#i KNOW it's NEVER a good idea to call anyone least a living breathing person a hero but damn she's close to that lol
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i'm not in love
in which angus always preferred being alone. at least, he used to.
pairing is angus tully x fem!reader
word count is 3.4k
author says don't look at me <3 not proofread bc it's me
you should watch out for college-aged angus, mostly just two besties who are so in love it makes them stupid
title song is i'm not in love // 10cc
angus tully answers his mother’s biweekly calls diligently. not because either of them truly want to speak to each other—it’s more perfunctory than anything. she calls and asks about school, and he tells her it’s good. then he asks about stanley, and she tells him about stanley’s job, and then she’ll ask angus about his job. he tells her it’s fine, and she offers him money that he’ll accept only if he’s in a particularly foul mood. after three years, they almost have it down to a perfect script.
at least, he thought they did.
“how’s y/n?”
the question catches him so off-guard that his sharp intake of breath makes him choke, but judy waits patiently for an answer. he mentioned you every once in a while. mostly, he likes that you’re an entirely separate part of his life from his mother and stanley. he’ll bring you up if she asks why he isn’t coming home on a holiday, or on the off-chance she asks about his weekend plans. yours is one of the only names he’s ever given her when he talks about school, and one of the only ones that seems to stick around longer than a few months at a time. “she’s…good,” he responds tentatively.
“what are you guys doing tonight?”
he stares at his phone in bemusement. “what is this?”
she sighs, and he can almost see that displeased look on her face. he had it memorized. “when are we going to meet her?”
“why do you want to meet her?” he asks. if he really thinks about it, it makes sense. you two had lived across from one another for three years, and you had fallen together in a way that almost felt predetermined. you are the longest standing person in his life post-high school, and his mother knows this.
he had always preferred being alone. even as a child, he had no interest in playing with the neighborhood kids in the middle of the street. he liked doing things by himself. he liked doing what he wanted without having to inform anyone else. when he had gone to college and found a semi-affordable apartment that he wouldn’t have to share, he had been elated. the cute girl across the hall had just been a plus.
you two had always just worked. he holds everyone at arm's length, but it had never even occurred to him to shut you out. you two end up together most nights, watching movies or doing homework. it happens so easily that he hardly recognizes how strange it is. perpetual wallflower angus tully is attached.
“well, you two have been together for a while. if things are serious, i think it’s best that we meet her.”
angus blinks, shocked, before a nervous laugh bubbles up in his chest. it starts low, but the longer she waits in her own confused silence, the louder and more unruly his laughter becomes. he’s laughing—not because the idea is ridiculous, but because it’s so plausible that it takes him by surprise. he had spent the last two years trying to bury his feelings for you, and he had been so unsuccessful that even his mother had picked up on it.
“angus,” she snaps, and he giggles, even though it isn’t funny, even though his stomach twists and rolls in a way that makes him feel sick.
“i’m sorry,” he gasps, covering his eyes. “just…we—y/n and i aren’t together.”
there’s a long moment of silence where he catches his breath before his mom says, “angus, that’s not funny.”
“well, it is, if you think about it really hard,” he offers. she sighs, exasperated, and angus rubs his eyes. he can’t possibly explain to his mother what about this situation is truly amusing, because really, it isn’t funny. it’s not funny that he’s desperately in love with his best friend, and it’s not funny that she oscillates between entirely oblivious and seemingly aware.
“you’re telling me you’ve been missing family holidays for a girl you aren’t dating?”
he can tell she doesn’t believe him, and he doesn’t bother reminding her that they haven’t had a real family holiday in years. long before he started university, and long before he met you. besides, answering that question honestly is dangerous, and should he not handle this delicately, he’ll find himself on the wrong side of his mother’s wrath.
“uh…”
he’s fumbling, panicking, and it only gets worse when he hears his front door open. “angus?” you call, and his whole body cringes, his head falling to rest on the wall.
“angus,” judy warns.
“yeah,” he blurts, watching you round the corner. you smile, offering only a small wave as you drop your bag onto his kitchen table. “no, mom, obviously not. that would be ridiculous.”
as he feels her anxiety cease, his own skyrockets. he’s focused entirely on you; your back is turned toward him as you open his fridge, searching through the shelves for something to eat. if it were anyone else, he’d be irritated, but he almost loves it when you do it. loves that you feel comfortable enough in his home to make yourself feel at home, that he can take care of you in the smallest way. most nights, when he lies in bed and thinks of you, he finds himself thinking of the ways he could take care of you. the ways he could give you what he never had, the things that had been ripped from him. security. unconditional affection. peace. he’s barely listening when his mother sighs again. “you know, i don’t understand your humor sometimes.”
“i know,” he says. you kick the fridge closed, enough food in your hands to feed both of you. “hey, she actually just got here. can i let you go?”
“not until you answer my question.” her voice is clipped now, and angus winces. some nights she’s a little more forgiving with his distraction, a little more responsive to the things he says that she doesn’t necessarily understand. tonight, he’s more distracted than usual and less decipherable than ever. “when can we meet her?”
angus groans, and you smile over your shoulder. you know better than anyone how much he struggles with his mother. you’ve listened in on many of their phone calls, and patiently listened to him complain about them later. “i don’t know, mom.”
“how about easter?” she asks. angus turns to lean against the wall and watch you, and you lean against the counter, waiting for him to be done. he rolls his eyes, a silent cue that things are taking longer than he’d like. “stanley and i can drive up that saturday and take you guys out for a nice dinner. on us.”
reluctantly, only because he knows that she’ll blow a gasket if they don’t nail down plans on this phone call, and because he wants this to be over, he huffs. he pulls the receiver away slightly and asks, “you want to have dinner with my mom and stanley easter weekend?”
you blink owlishly. “what? why?”
“they want to meet you.”
“why?” you insist. he glares at you impatiently; knowing angus—more, knowing what you know about his mother—an answer is needed now, and explanation must come later. the idea of meeting his mom makes your stomach turn uncomfortably, but there he stands. even with a hard glare, you feel safe with him. you feel the need to do what he asks of you, and you know him well enough to know that he wouldn’t ask if he thought it would be something you couldn’t handle. “uh…i guess, yeah.”
he offers a grateful smile. “easter weekend sounds great, mom.”
they quickly finalize plans before hanging up, and the second the receiver is back on hook, he groans loudly, rubbing his eyes. you wait for him to speak, but he stands with his hands over his eyes, hiding from you. “angus.”
“she thinks you’re my girlfriend,” he blurts.
you really don’t mean to start laughing. “what?”
his lips turn up in a sheepish smile. “i guess they’ve thought we were together this entire time,” he chuckles. “and i panicked! she accused me missing holidays to spend time with you and i didn’t want to get in trouble—”
you clutch your stomach, doubled over in laughter. he doesn’t want to laugh—frankly, he’s a little hurt that you find the idea so laughable, but he had laughed, too. “you caved,” you gasp. “you caved and told a lie because you didn’t want to get in trouble with your mommy.”
“okay.” he rolls his eyes. “whatever. you’re part of this now, too.”
your giggles die down and you turn to take the food out of the microwave. “hey, i could back out. i could break up with you at any time.”
he scoffs, but doesn’t respond. often enough, when you’re doing exactly what you’re doing now, angus’ feelings become overwhelming. watching you move around his kitchen with the kind of natural domesticity makes him feel choked, buried under his overflowing affection.
the harder he fights his feelings, the worse they get. you’re his best friend—it’s not on purpose, either; you aren’t at all the kind of person he ever thought he would fall for. you were bitingly funny, of course, but you fought him constantly. he wouldn’t even say you were particularly nice for the first few months you two knew one another. you’re entirely out of left field, and he can’t even get a read on you half the time—not that he even really wants to. part of him thinks that knowing exactly what you think about him would be truly crushing.
“i guess a free meal could be nice,” you tease, stirring your dinner with a knowing smile.
“yeah, you’re so unused to those,” he bites, pushing himself off the wall. you beam.
it’s surprising, in a way, that you hadn’t met angus’ mom and stepfather already. he’s met your family a thousand times over; they take you both out to dinner every single time they visit you. they had sent him a birthday gift this year, for christ’s sake. but you could probably count the amount of time angus had seen his mother in the last three years on both hands. you were surprised enough that she even remembered your name.
you had spent your entire friendship with angus thinking about his mother. being angry with her. your best friend is caring, in his own stilted, modest way. he’s witty and so smart that it intimidates you, and he’s loyal. it tells you all you need to know that his relationship with his mother isn’t strong.
he bumps you out of the way, and you let him. you watch him open the cupboard for plates to evenly split the leftover pasta, and your chest nearly heaves with confused affection. you see the way he looks at you when he’s not careful. with an unrestrained reverence, with a tenderness that can’t be forced. it had made you uncomfortable, at first. made you feel like you couldn’t be around him anymore. you had tried to pull away—for a day or two.
the reality of the entire situation is that angus tully belongs in your life. you adore him too much to cut him out, and even if you didn’t, it kills you to think of him alone. he’s a lone wolf; it’s amazing enough that you two have connected the way that you have. if angus didn’t have you, he had a few friends from class. maybe two or three guys from work. but nothing as deep, nothing as serendipitous as your friendship.
discomfort with his feelings had grown into a tentative acceptance once you realized he had no plans on acting on them, and after a few months, tentative acceptance had grown into…something else entirely. you aren’t sure exactly what it is. it isn’t like those juvenile, giddy crushes you had harbored in high school. angus doesn’t keep you up at night, nor does he make you lovesick. he puts you at ease. he makes you feel safe. he makes you feel like yourself.
you don’t want to confront the strange sense of peace that angus has offered you without even knowing. without even trying. you don’t want to change your friendship, or misattribute your feelings, so you ignore them. and you ignore the way he looks at you, and how he insists on making your favorite dinners, even though he complains about you eating his leftovers, and how he uses your spare key to lock your door every single time he leaves your apartment without fail.
your knees bump together under the tiny table in his kitchen as you two eat dinner. you listen to him talk about his coworkers, lulled into relaxation by his deep voice; you always loved your dinnertime conversations. mostly, one of you just talked. you would talk about school and work and your classmates and your days; they aren’t even really conversations. it’s just an excuse to talk and an opportunity to listen. he doesn’t mind when you don’t respond, and neither of you care if the other person talks the entire time. it’s time spent together more than anything else. you think about how effortless it feels. how you could do this every night with intention, not under the guise of getting out of your apartment. you think about the dinner with his mom, and how you’ll both put on nice outfits to go out, and how you’ll come home together, and how you’ll dissect every detail of the dinner and the conversations for the entire night, if not for days afterwards.
you notice only a moment too late that you’ve zoned out, and angus kicks your shin gently. “you good?”
with a reassuring smile, you nod. “yeah. i’m just thinking about dinner with your mom.”
he’s bashful when he laughs quietly. “yeah…sorry. i know i kind of screwed you over.” you can tell that he truly does feel bad, but the longer you think about it, the less you dread it. you think you might actually like an excuse to acknowledge the way angus looks at you, for him to not have to hide it.
“i don’t know…i’m kind of excited,” you admit, pushing food around your plate. angus looks at you from under his lashes, taking pause at your tone. you refuse to look at him, and it sends his heart into overdrive; he’s panicked, certainly, and so in love with you that it makes him nauseous. he isn’t entirely sure that he’ll survive a night of you pretending. of it all feeling so real.
he can feel a confession coming, bubbling up in his chest, and he swallows in panic. “she’s—she’ll like you, i think.”
with a slight smile, you push your plate away from you. “i’m not sure i’ll like her.”
which he loves about you, naturally.
he clears his throat to bury the confession and stands; angus grabs both plates and turns his back to you to hide his flushed cheeks. shamelessly, since he can’t see you, you watch him, soothed simply by the way he moves. by how familiar he is. by how you can almost predict every move he makes. the words fall out before you’re even cognizant of them
“just so you know, i don’t mind your mom thinking i’m your girlfriend.”
the way he freezes makes your shoulders tense. you hadn’t meant to say that. it was true, but he didn’t need to know that. angus’ mind screeches to a full stop before it starts running ten times faster than before. what did that mean?
slowly—so slowly that you almost don’t notice—he sets the plates in the sink. you won’t get out of this. you know you won’t, because you know angus. once the door is open, he’ll take the opportunity to push it every single time. “why?” he asks, his voice a carefully constructed tone of ease. he plays it well; his nonchalance is almost perfectly natural. it nearly tricks you.
still kicking yourself, you shrug even though he can’t see you. instead, you start emptying your bag to distract yourself. textbooks and notebooks and pencils clatter against the table. “just…we could sell it, don’t you think?” it’s not even close to what he wants to hear, and you buckle down even though you know you won’t win this one. “we know everything about each other.”
he snorts, and it puts you at ease. not because you’re going to get out of this. you know something dangerous is going to come out of this conversation, but because it’s angus. it’s your best friend. and you know him, and you know the way he treats you is symptomatic of something much larger. it used to scare you, but it doesn’t now. not now that he washes your dishes, the sleeves of his sweater pushed up to his elbows. you trust him. you know that any vulnerability you share will be returned to you tenfold.
“yeah, right. that just makes it convenient,” he says knowingly, head tilting. he watches you sort through your textbooks, hiding your anxiety while you busy yourself.
part of you hopes that he’ll just drop it. not because you don’t think things will work out, but because you love how things are between the two of you. the almosts, the what-ifs, the wondering is something you so love to savor. it’s still so easy between you two; all of those what-ifs still exist only in your minds, only in the silent space between you that neither of you are willing to acknowledge. there’s plausible deniability. there’s safety.
you smile shakily, glancing up at him. “i guess i mean…that we…work?”
he smiles back, comforting but still audacious. “and by that, you mean…”
with a groan, you fold your arms and bury your face in them. you know this leap can only be beneficial, but you’re struggling to let yourself admit anything. it’s more frustrating than the denial.
angus stares at you, suddenly the emotionally constipated one, and his heart is pounding in his ears. he can feel it beating against his chest; he’s not brave enough to hope. it’s too scary for him to wonder if this is finally it, if you had been as keenly aware as he had assumed you to be.
“just…i think there’s a reason my mom thinks we’re together. just so you know.” you groan louder, unmoved by his words, and he continues, “beyond the fact that we’re constantly together.”
you peek up at him, your chin still pressed against your forearms. he watches you, big brown eyes wide open with vulnerability. he’s waiting. you figure it’s as good of a segue as he’s going to give you. with a deep breath, ignoring the turning and rolling of your stomach, you say, “i feel like…things could be like that between us.”
he breaks into a smile so wide that you have to look away from him. “oh, is that what this is about?” he asks facetiously.
you grunt, irritated. “don’t tease me.”
he laughs, uncrossing his arms. you don’t even want to look at him, humiliated. he hasn’t rejected you—in fact, you know he’s just keeping you on the line to tease you. it irritates you, but he seems giddy, even if he tries to act like he’s unaffected. he can’t keep that goofy smile off his face. it entirely gives him away. “hey,” he says, voice bright. “c’mere.”
“no,” you spit, annoyed. you know that the second you give in, everything will change. for the better, you think, but it will change. you hold on to the wondering for just a moment longer, but you can’t help yourself. he waits patiently at the counter, holding on to the ledge. you like the wondering, but you think you’re ready to find out if it’s as good as it seems it would be.
self-conscious, you cross the room to him. you stand only centimeters apart, and he grins at you, fingers gently stroking the hem of your collar. “you know, right?”
you don’t have to ask what he means. you know. maybe not the depths, but you know. the way he looks at you is enough to let you know. the way he takes care of you tells you what his words haven’t yet. they will. “you can’t hide from me, angus tully.”
he loves that about you, too. he’ll tell you all the specifics later. for now, he kisses you, a long arm around your waist, and you think that this is much better than the what-ifs.
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hey lovey! i absolutely ADORE your writing and i just wanted to share the idea of a strong and intimidating reader getting positively TOPPED by abby and her pulling the kind of condescending tone and being like “aww not so big and scary when you’re all fucked dumb on my cock huh baby?”
GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET RN
my reader is usually a big cry baby wuss so i thought i’d spice things up and give this a go …..also i changed the prompt very slightly hope thts ok !!
and i shouldn’t cry, but i love it.
🎀 mentions of injury, blood, reader gets attacked by clicker (and briefly by a raider at the start), brat!reader? kind of? another ldr song title fic name… no one is shocked
you had to have your guard up. you didn’t know any other way. having your guard up meant no one could take advantage of you — so damn being friendly. there was no way in hell that would happen again.
you’d been on your own for a long time now, and you’d learnt to adapt. maybe you weren’t the best with fighting, but no one would ever get close enough to pull a swing on you — because you were ruthless with a pistol. until you weren’t of course, some random raider skimming your thigh with his bullet just enough to make you bleed like crazy before you put a hole in his skull.
fuck, you would have died. at the time you’d rather die than what really happened. abby and her league of idiots as you liked to call them came to your rescue. you were bleeding out when they found you, barely coherent from the dangerous cocktail of adrenaline and blood loss and you had somehow lost it enough to let abby carry you back to camp. big, strong, abby. you were humiliated.
so you had to prove yourself. they’d convinced you to stay with them, safety in numbers and all — and you must have received a concussion somehow from your injury because you agreed. this wasn’t like you, but they’d come to learn that. you were taking every patrol shift, gunning down the infected whenever you go the chance to show your impeccable aim— and most importantly, being pretty much a raging bitch to anyone who tried to get close. it wasn’t charming, to say the least— and everyone gave up trying to befriend you as you quickly outcasted yourself and gained a reputation of being intimidating. everyone, but abby.
when you’d first seen abby, under your blood loss, dazed, near-death-experience haze— you had seen her as a beacon of hope through your bleary eyes. not because she was saving you, no. because seeing someone so toned and buff was living proof that there was enough food out there, and working facilities that she built her body with. they were living somewhere that had food, a gym— it seemed like a safe haven where you could kick back for a while. as soon as you came to, you of course had come to your senses and remembered that she carried you all the way ‘home’ like you were some damsel in distress.
abby was the only person who wouldn’t even bat an eyelid at your quick and irritable remarks. you’d only ever get so much as a chuckle, or a playful eyeroll followed by a ridiculous comment such as “ooh, this one bites.” she was undermining you, laughing at you. the anger within you, from having an attractive yet incredibly infuriating girl laugh at you was constantly bubbling to the surface. you felt you were constantly proving yourself to the only person who wasn’t intimidated, and it was growing increasingly difficult.
so you agreed to a patrol with her, infact — you became patrol partners. abby still towered over you, so you had to try extra hard to big yourself up enough to feel like her equal. she was effortlessly good at killing the infected, and she never seemed to struggle to hoist herself up on top of walls and hit her targets with her gun. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t impressed, but you’d never admit that.
you had proven yourself a fool twice now, when you’d wound up with a clicker on top of you — snapping it’s jaws at you, it’s foul breath so close to your face that if you weren’t fighting for your life you’d be gagging. they were usually a sack of bones, why was this clicker so heavy? holding it off with one arm, you struggled for your knife— but your hands were clammy and it was really wedged into your holster. it’s warm breath closed around your arm, and just as it was about to bite down — a shot rang out, the clickers fungus attachment exploding across you as it slumped to the side.
abby stood over you, wielding her pistol with a concerned look on your face.
“are you bit?” she practically exclaimed, analysing the shocked expression on your face. your eyes were glazed, having just looked death in the eye as you sat up. you checked yourself over, patting down your legs for any bites you may have missed. and then your midriff, and then your arms, and did you check your legs already? you pat them down again, staring into space— the sound of the bullet tearing through the clickers skull still ringing in your ear. that was by far the closest encounter you’d ever had, and you couldn’t believe your relief was owed to abby.
“are you bit?” she repeat after you met her with silence and you were quick this time to snap back.
“no i’m not bit!” you were sucking in jagged breaths, recovering as you stood back up, looking around in paranoia for more infected. then, your eyes fell on her and a surge of energy vibrated through you. “you wasted a bullet. i had my knife in my hand, you probably just attracted more fucking infected.” you barked, throwing your arm out angrily. abby stared at you for a moment before, and you couldn’t believe it, a smile crept onto her face. a smile that turned into a chuckle. she was laughing at you.
“your welcome.” she shook her head. “now let’s get the fuck out of here.” she nodded towards the exit, taking a few steps in that direction. she didn’t hear you following, so she turned around — probably to poke fun at you again. but you were stood, arms hugging yourself slightly as you looked around, eyes watery and wide like your brain was catching up to what had just happened. if abby wasn’t there, you would have died. again. that’s when she saw, for the first time — you looked frightened. the harshness was gone from your eyes as you stared ahead, in your own mind. abby knew she was on thin ice, but she stepped forward anyway and braved the plummet of cold water. “hey. you’re okay. you’re alive.” she spoke softly, the tone so gentle in fact that it brought you out your trance— eyes snapping to her. you looked sweet and dependent in that moment, but she’d wouldn’t dare ever tell you that. you were small but mighty, and even she believes that you could possibly stand a chance against her given enough anger.
you came out of it, clearing your throat and brushing the debris off your jeans. “let’s just go.” your guard was back up, just like that. the two of you walked back, with a quick lecture from you of course. “you don’t tell people what happened back there. do i make myself clear? if you do, i will know. and i won’t not fuck you the fuck up. okay?” you stared up at her, leaning on your hip. you know when a bunny rabbit gets angry, and they start thumping their back feet on the ground, button nose wriggling and claws digging stubbornly into grass? that’s exactly what abby saw when she stared down at you. she really didn’t want to smirk, she wanted to let you have this to make you feel better — but the upwards curve of her lip couldn’t help itself, and thankfully you ignored it.
“yes ma’am.”
abby couldn’t get that expression of yours out of her mind when she hit the showers. the one where you looked vulnerable, eyes wide and searching for her. you looked so… submissive. as she cleaned the dirt, grime and blood off her body that evening it became clear to her what you needed. she needed to force that bad attitude out of you, pronto — and she had just the tool.
don’t ask how she convinced you to even step foot in her room, she couldn’t tell you, maybe you’d made it easier than she thought you would have. maybe that’s how you got into the position you were in, legs pinned open by her own— a giant vibrating wand clutched in her hand as she sat pressed up behind you, holding the bulb straight to your clit. you didn’t even know your name anymore, all you knew was abby.
somewhere in the back of your mind, you’d wondered how she’d even acquired it. you’d heard rumours of a sex shop a couple of miles east, and a few days prior abby had asked you for the batteries from your reading lamp. you said no, so she must’ve found them elsewhere to power this beast of a sex toy. those thoughts melted away, with abby’s voice in your ear. you had no thoughts anymore, you were totally at her mercy once more.
embarrassment was a far away concept now, pants and underwear completely discarded from your bottom half — mewling against abby’s strong shoulder as she ground the vibrator into you. you were two orgasms down, drool pooled beneath your pouty bottom lip as she grasped your jaw with her free hand, keeping her hand squeezed there — reminding you who was in charge.
“aww. not so big n’scary now, are you? where’d all that attitude go, baby?” she mocked you, her voice gentle and sympathetic in the most condescending manner. you whined, hips jumping against the toy as she removed it from your clit to swirl around your inner thighs, spreading your embarrassing amount of slick everywhere. “this is just what you needed huh? to get fucked dumb. poor girl had such a stressful day didn’t she? needed that pretty pussy taken care of.” she was enjoying this, and you hated to say it but so were you. everything she was saying, was inherently correct. you had no fight left in you, and abby had let you drop your guard enough to be taken care of and it felt good. it was undeniable that you needed her.
“can’t — g—g’nna cum ‘gain. please.” you begged, hot tears on your cheeks which she rubbed into your warm cheeks once they reached your jaw where her hand was. she was rubbing the vibrating head up and down, nudging up beneath your clit at the perfect pressure and pace. you squeezed and gushed around nothing, awaiting her to grant you an orgasm.
“say thank you first. i made you my good girl, so maybe you should express some gratitude for once.” she sarked, voice caressing the shell of your ear making your spine tingle and toes curl.
“thank you abby. thank you! for everything! please!” you were crying now, and she had shushed you, placing kisses to your temple soothingly.
“take what you need baby, i’m right here.”
#abby anderson smut#abby tlou2 smut#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson prompt#abby anderson drabble
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You always know what to say and do.
Andrea Medina x reader
-> got this idea while watching her tiktok, where they're playing the marshmallow game, so if you want some good context to it, pls look it up. Once again this is fictional, and don't necessarily reflect the reality, although Andrea has been open about her ADHD and hyperactivity.
TW: angst, anxiety attack (sort of), mentions of hyperactivity and feelings of anxiety.
You and your girlfriend were almost never apart. You thrive in each-others presence. Always a safe place to joke around, talk, sing, cry or sometimes just sit around in comfortable silence. And by silence it actually meant you were relaxing quietly while Andrea walked around talking nonstop.
It never bothered her because she knew you were paying attention to her every move and words, and it made her feel like someone was actually listening to her. And you, you loved those moments more than anything. It didn't bother you either, to you, her voice was the most relaxing sound, you could listen to her jokes all day. You loved that despite knowing you had a way lower energy level, she could always still be one hundred percent herself, even if it meant enduring her hyperactive self. It was indeed very comforting having someone so opposite to you that yet complemented you perfectly deep down inside.
So when she called you up at 3 AM crying, your heart broke. It was hard enough being away from each other, when she was away with the sub 20 national team. This time they were away for a game against Germany, and the call was unexpected to say the least. Even though you would spend hours on facetime, she usually slept like a baby through the night, especially after training for hours. That's one of the only things that would really drain some energy out of her.
Andrea was the type of person to never break down in front of others, so when she called you in the middle of the night, you knew it was bad.
"What happened amor? Why are you crying?" - you asked desperately.
You could barely make up the words she was saying through the phone.
"Breathe okay? I'm here, cry all you need and then talk to me amor" -
It took around ten minutes for her cries to die down.
"Everyone hates me!" - "They think I am annoying and they don't want me around!" -
"Did someone say that to you?"-
She shook her head while she spoke - "No, but I know it, I can tell"-
"Baby, tell me what happened okay? Is Ornella with you?" -
"No, we're not sharing rooms this week." - I nodded to her, reassuring her to continue - "We were at Martina's room and I had an idea for a tiktok, you know the one marshmallow two marshmallow game?"
"Yes I saw you posted it earlier. But what happened?" -
"While we were filming, it felt like everyone was so annoyed at me, like they were tired and that I was taking up space you know? I know not a lot of people can deal with the way I am, but I don't know, I just thought we were all good friends, and that it would be fun..."-
"Cariño, I wish I could hold you right now." - you say sadly - "But we've talked about this. You can't live worrying if others might be bothered by it. It's who you are! You don't have to feel bad for the ones around you! I hate that you felt that way today, I just wish I could be there with you."
"I love the girls and I just sometimes forget how overbearing I can be. It's kind of hard, when I'm back home with you, Lola, Cris, Wifi and the team I don't even think about it, I don't worry. I forget how much support I have and I'm so thankful. And I love you amor. So much." -
By now you were tearing up. For the last year and a half, you've seen her through it all, and you knew her pain. You knew how hard it was for her to say it out loud, even more to anyone that was not the reflection in her mirror. She keeps her smile up even when she feels the saddest. Your guess was that she kept that fake smile and jokes, kept it up until she was finally alone in the hotel room. And then just exploded from her feelings. And you guessed it right.
She only decided to call you when she realized she couldn't calm down by herself. That was, after hours of crying.
"Was Ornella there?" - you ask already knowing the answer as she shook her head no. You knew if she was, this most likely wouldn't have happened.
"How about you take hot a shower? I'll stay on the call, and when you're done we can go to sleep?" - She easily gave in to your idea, knowing that's exactly what she needed right now, besides the cuddle that she wouldn't be getting till next monday.
After taking a rather quick shower not wanting to be away from the call too long, she put on the hoodie she brought along that smelled like you. The piece of clothing was her own, but it acquired the smell from how much you wore it around the apartment.
Laying back down on the bed and going under the covers, she focused once again on the phone screen.
"Better?" she only nodded quickly - "I love you, Andrea, so much. And I know that if Ornella was there you would've felt seen and safer. But you can't depend on having one of us by your side, to feel like you deserve to be who you are. I know Lola and I talk about it a lot, but it's true. You can't be careful around others at the expense of your own feelings. It's not healthy. They can remove themselves if they'd like. By now we know that some people don't have much patience unfortunately. They have no idea the gem they're missing on, my love." -
"Gracias bebé, for knowing what to say and do. I know I need to work on fighting these feelings off. And promise tomorrow I'll follow the drill and try to stay close to Ornella. Even though that's the opposite of what you just said." - seemly as on queue she let's out an yawn.
"Okay baby. I'll leave you to get some sleep then."
She immediately protested -"Please stay until one of us falls a sleep?" -
You couldn't say no to her.
Took a little bit of my own personal experience to write this one and hope it also helps anyone in need of some comfort and reassuring words. 🩷
Also my first time writing, so I'd love to hear your thoughts and advice. This feels like it needs some improvement.
#espwnt#woso#womens football#atletico madrid femenino#andrea medina#woso x reader#andrea medina x reader
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Across the Sea and to the East | Prologue
Aemond Targaryen x Stark!Reader
Summary: Under your uncle’s usurpation of your brother you have been sent away to hide in Lys under House Rogare. You’ve found new purpose with the Lord of Light but you will be called home soon.
Tags: slight slow burn, actual burning, violence, smut, angst, tags will be added as we go.
Chapter 1
“Uncle please! You can’t do this!” You screamed with tears streaming down your face as your arms were held back. You were pulling so hard you felt as if your arms would dislocate, but the guards did not budge.
“The North is my birthright! Where is your honor?!” Cregan, your older brother shouted next to you, also held by guards. The men that were supposed to protect you are now holding you like criminals.
Your Uncle Bennard and his 3 sons stood over you are your brother mockingly, clearly gaining some kind of sick pleasure from watching you two writhe in pain. What he had planned for you, you did not know, but it couldn’t be anything good.
“Take my niece to the cell tower, I need to have a private word with my nephew.”
At your uncle's words Cregan jumped up from his knees and struggled against the guards grip yelling profanities at him as you were dragged away. You attempted to dig your feet into the ground to spend even a second longer with your brother. It was useless you were a little girl of ten and one, they easily dragged your small body away.
You felt unreal, weightless, weak. You lost all ability to move and let the guards drag you by your arms like a ragdoll. Your feet dragged against the rough stone floor, it chafed and burned your shoeless feet.
You hadn’t had the faintest idea what your uncle wanted to do with you, but you could imagine the worst case possibilities. You knew you would never see Cregan again, surely your uncle wouldn’t let him live.
Perhaps he would just kill you so you couldn’t tell anyone the truth.
The halls felt like they would go on forever. You’d personally never been to the cells of the castle, no reason for a little girl to come here.
You’d be violently tossed into an empty cold cell with only a wood board for a bed and barred window, left in the dark with your thoughts only left to weep to yourself.
——————————
Hours turned into days with no human contact besides the hand that slipped food to you so you wouldn’t starve to death. Is this it? Would you rot here? Your screams and cries went unanswered and your throat wasn’t raw days ago.
You slowly began to spiral over time, questions buzzing through your head. What’s happened to your brother? You prayed he didn’t suffer and had a swift death at the very least.
What would the people know? Would they think you two had died of fever? How would Aemond react?
Gods, Aemond.
You hadn’t yet stopped to consider your best friend and the light in your life. What would he know? He already struggles enough, if he believed you died what would become of him?
—————————
You don’t remember falling asleep, though you suppose you never do.
Wake my child, it is not yet your time
You snap up to find yourself in a different pitch black room only illuminated by one pit of fire, tall and bright. You were entranced by the fire and felt the carnal urge to get closer, it didn’t hurt, it didn’t burn, you felt warm… you felt safe?
Yes child, the fire speaks to you.
“I- I don’t understand”
Most do not, but you can. I will give you a choice child if you are willing to hear it.
You hold your breath with a big lump in your throat but with sweaty palms and shaky breath you mutter out “yes”
The fire seemed pleased with your response, at least from what you could tell.
You can rot here and die, which you will. Or. You can accept my blessing, my power. Everything has been predestined and decided, however, I have given you the choice to overcome fate and forge your own light.
You clenched your fits tightly, shaking and trembling at the unknown implications of your choice. “I don’t want to die!”
Very well, the light is yours child.
Quickly, you felt a burning sensation on your forehead that grew hotter by the moment. It burned so badly you fell to your knees and screamed and begged for it to stop.
—————————
“My Lady! My Lady you must wake up!”
An aggressive whisper shook you awake from your dreamscape. You could barely make out anything in the faint candlelight. A cloaked figure with no disconcernable features is all you could see.
“There’s no time to explain! We must leave before it’s too late, just know I’m here to keep you safe!”
The figure was frustrated with your lack of response and resorted to grabbing you harshly and forcing you to stand on wobbly feet. Your throat felt dry and couldn’t spit out a single coherent word. The man nonetheless opened and dragged you out of the cell door, rushing you down the halls.
The halls and stairs winded together even more confusing than when you had come up. Breaking through the last corridor and through a wet and unfamiliar underground passage. You were picked up off your feet and rushed down even faster.
Everything felt like it had happened in seconds, you were rushed out of the castle walls into an empty wagon. You peaked out of the back and saw flame licking at the inside of the cell tower you were trapped in.
“Rest my Lady, you have a long journey ahead of you.”
Was the last thing you heard before the doors of the wagon were shut and you began to move.
——————————
You had been shipped across the sea to Lys where you were taken in by House Rogare and Lysandro Rogare.
A handful of houses in the north had learned of your uncle's plans days before he enacted it. Your mothers home, House Glover and House Manderly staged your death and paid House Rogare handsomely to take you in until it was safe for you to return. They tried to find your brother Cregan but he was nowhere to be found and no one has heard from or about him since. Your uncle's story is that both of you died in the tower fire that night.
He assumed power of house Stark immediately and kept your funerals short and fast. You had been told through letters that Prince Aemond was devastated and heartbroken to learn about your passing. He had even flown North on Vhagar without the castle’s permission to witness your ‘funeral’
Your heart aches everyday with the thought that Aemond believes you’re dead. You wish to go home to Westeros and embrace him and tell him you’re alive. However, that’s not an option right now.
Your life in Lys has been far from boring to say the least.
Shortly into your stay at House Rogare, Red Priests from The Temple of the Lord of Light arrived asking questions about your whereabouts. How they found your identity from their visions you do not know, they showed up proclaiming you a so-called ‘Lady of Light’.
The fire that you spoke to seven years ago was R’hllor, the Lord of Light. The religion is very common in Essos and is dominant here.
Word of your existence traveled throughout the whole continent of Essos, while Westeros remained none the wiser.
Refusing to leave Lys, finding a fondness in your new family, the wine and food doesn’t hurt either, you took up secondary residence in the Red Temple in Lys.
They have built extension after extension to the Temple to suit your ‘needs’. The Temple is full of Priests, Prostitutes and Warriors, but only one of you.
Even having lived away from home for seven years, in your heart and in your soul… you belong to Westeros.
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Doubt
Dazai x Reader
Kinda sad i guess.
I haven't proofread any of this. I'll do it at a later date.
You figured your mom wouldn't like this guy. She was... an overly judgmental woman.
And Dazai? Well, he didn't hide much. Aside from some really dark stuff. He didn't tone down his personality for anyone. So when he asked to meet your family, you sort of panicked. You didn't want him to meet them. You wanted to keep him and your family as far apart as you could until it was absolutely necessary. But Dazai assured you it would be fine. You hadn't really told him what it was like, so you didn't blame him.
Unbeknownst to you, he already knew. Or at least, had a general idea. You didn't need to say anything to him for him to understand where a lot of your troubles stemmed from. Why you didn't want him to meet them.
But in his mind? Better to get it out of the way now instead of a few years down the line.
So the day came. Your mother was lovely. A darling woman, offering Tea and Buiscuits, showing a keen interest. She didn't breath a word to you, unless it was to extend a kind courtesy. To put on a kind show.
You sat the entire time with bated breath, an anxiety ever lingering until you looked to the man sat beside you.
Dazai.
He'd toned his usual attitude down to meet your family.
There was no mentions of suicide. No over the top expressions or flirting, he seemed like... the picture perfect boyfriend.
You felt it was okay to excuse yourself to the bathroom with how strangely well this was going.
"So, YN"
You sighed, of course, things were going a little too perfectly. She cornered you in the hallway just outside the front room, just out of earshot from everyone else.
"How much did he cost?"
"What?" If you didn't know her so well, what she insinuated would have been more of a surprise. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case.
"You can't be serious? It's ovbious he's not into you, you must have given him something?" she quizzed you again.
"Uh... no mom, he really is my boyfriend"
"Riiight. Right... a little out of your league isn't he?"
You rolled your eyes. And tried to walk past. She didn't stop you. Not really, just...
"I hope you treat him well, that you stopped being so lazy, Hope your not neglecting him as much as you neglect the rest of us"
You continued on your way after what she said. It was hardly bad, in your eyes. Out of everything else she could have said to you, this was the lesser evil.
But... it plagued you a little for the rest of your visit.
He was... out of your league. You knew she was right. He WAS out of your league. Was he in it for something else?
Home... or rather, your shared home with Dazai felt cold and unwelcoming as you stepped through your own front door. You felt sick to your stomach. You could have sworn you felt homesick.
You wanted to go back. This didn't feel right anymore. You didn't feel like you belonged at this other persons apartment. You shared a bed with Dazai, but got no sleep. Merely found yourself lying awake all night. Sometimes staring out the window, sometimes staring at the ceiling. And occasionally, your gaze would linger on your loves face.
You knew it was a bad idea to take Dazai to meet your mom. You knew she would plant an idea in your head that made you doubt yourself.
She did it with your last partner, told you that you weren't treating them right - as if she knew a thing, but... you broke up with them over it. She also did it when you applied for a new job, you had an interview coming up, and she told you they'd never hire someone as lazy, inexperienced and unmotivated as you, so you missed the interview.
She never likes your artwork, however good it was, she made fun of your fashion sense, never liked your hobbies, called you unoriginal and boring.
Yet she relied on you for everything when you lived there. You did everything she ever wanted, but it was never enough. She only saw the bad in you.
And you in turn only saw the bad in the world.
When you met dazai that changed. He was weird, and has his flaws, but he was persistent, kind, and as honest as he could be with you. He had his moments, where he'd dissappear, only to reappear a few hours later floating down some river you or someone else had to dive in to save him from. Which he always complained about, in such a gentle and playful way. It wasn't perfect, but you thought it was... did he not think the same?
The thought brought tears to your eyes. Silent sobs escaping your sealed lips as you sat up and made a plan.
When dazai awoke the next morning it was with a start. A bad dream had plagued him during the later part of his sleep, and he couldn't place why. Until of course, he noticed you weren't beside him. Call him dependant, weak, or whatever, but since he begun sharing a home and a bed with you, everything felt just that little bit better. His unconscious mind didn't plague him like it used too, because now he got to hold you.
Now, Dazai is not a stupid man, even in his sleep hazed mind, he noticed something was off.
Most ovbious being that he couldn't see you anywhere. So he stood, to have a look around, a small investigation.
Not that he had to look far, you left a note on the kitchen counter. A note that left a sense of gloom. The colour drained from his home as he read. Words he couldn't register. All he knew is that it meant you had left him. Took your things and ran in the night.
He couldn't understand why though? He thought you had a perfect relationship. Did you not think the same?
He wasn't in the right mind to think properly. He needed time to register. Time to understand, and time to work out why.
But he'd make sure it didn't take too long. He couldn't let you go like that. Not without understanding at the very least.
_________________________________________
PART 2
Masterlist :3
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Speak of the Dead.
You manage to escape from your attempted kidnapping, an unexpected person shows up when the doctors call your emergency contact.
Characters – Reader, Reacher, Neagley, Chris, Karla
Word Count - 1k.
‘Neagley -,’ you stopped when the larger person stepped into the room, ‘what’s he doing here?’
‘He was with me when I got the call.’ She told you, you moved in your bed.
‘Coulda dropped him off somewhere.’ You grumbled.
‘I would’ve but you know he’s like a stray, always finds you.’ Neagley replied, you arched an eyebrow.
‘What happened?’ Reacher quizzed.
‘Pretty sure you’ve already asked the nurse.’ You told him.
‘Y/N.’ He warned, you glared at him.
‘Three busted ribs, fractured eye socket, broken nose, serve blood loss and a brand-new scar. It’s like Christmas.’ You replied sarcastically, you lifted your arms and shook them.
‘Well at least they never took away your best quality.’ Neagley commented, you arched your brow the best you could with the swelling.
‘Oh wow, tryna piss off the injured, real nice.’ You joked, she smiled and glanced to Reacher.
‘You know who did it?’ Reacher quizzed, his brows were drawn together, you shook your head.
‘Wore masks, generic height and build.’ You listed off your attackers.
You watched Neagley and Reacher share a look, you moved in your bed, a hiss escaped your lips. Reacher moved quickly, the space he had kept between you vanished, you raised a hand for him to stop which he did and glared down at you.
‘I know how to draw them out.’ You breathed out as you got comfy.
‘We’re not using you as bait.’ Reacher said quickly, you dropped your hand onto his forearm, his warmth spread over your palm.
‘Good to know that’s where your brain goes but we are, or rather my body.’ You patted his arm.
‘They’re after the team, so let’s give them the team.’ You suggested, you looked at Neagley who hadn’t moved from the bottom of the bed.
‘Y/N.’ She said, head tilted as she had a rough idea as to where your thoughts were going.
‘Pretty sure I was pronounced dead, so someone can work their magic and I can stay dead.’ You suggested.
‘You’d want to be dead?’ Reacher asked, you sighed.
‘Being alive hasn’t really lived up to what people have told me is should.’ You leaned back into the pillows to look up at him.
‘You look like shit.’ Karla commented as she entered the motel room, you chuckled and moved from the bathroom to the chair. Reacher's arm moved at his side, Karla’s brows pinched slightly as she looked at him.
‘Yeah, nice to see you guys again.’ You grumbled, a hand wrapped around your chest to try and ease the ache.
‘Been up too much?’ Karla asked, you scoffed and shook your head.
‘Just dying.’ You commented, you lowered yourself into the chair, she chuckled.
‘Heard the pair of your got married?’ You said, Reacher looked to her and O’Donnell, his brows furrowed deeply as Neagley chuckled at his shook.
‘Yeah, he’s had two kids as well.’ Karla commented.
‘Oft, I'm surprised she’s put up with you for so long, two kids and an adult one?’ You said, an eyebrow arched as you looked at him.
‘One on the way as well.’ He added happily, you smiled widely.
‘Well congrats, boy or girl?’
‘Don’t know.’ O’Donnell commented, he shrugged.
‘Are they safe?’ You asked.
‘Yeah, she knows what to do.’ He said, you nodded.
‘Good, your husband?’ You asked Karla, she nodded which eased you slightly.
‘He’s safe as well.’
‘Looks like we’re set.’ You said, they all nodded, ‘Anyone fancy dinner?’ You asked and moved to get out the chair, Reacher held a hand out to stop you.
‘Reacher and I will get it, you need to rest.’ Karla said, you looked at her annoyed, ‘Still the same toppings?’ She quizzed, you nodded.
‘Keep -,’
‘The door locked, we know.’ You, Neagley and O’Donnell said, Reacher looked defeated before he followed Karla out and shut the door behind him. Both their silhouettes walked past the window, Neagley slid the lock over.
‘They’re the reason we never worked out, right?’ Karla turned to Reacher, who arched an eyebrow, ‘Y/N, you’ve always been focused on them.’ She continued, he didn’t reply.
‘I don’t blame you, I guess I was naive for thinking anything would show between us.’ She added, Reacher focused ahead of him.
‘What you doing back?’ You quizzed as he marched into the room, he set the carrier bag onto the small chair that sat at the window, he continued to walk towards you.
‘I think I might stay awhile.’ He stated, you watched as he lowered himself into the bed next to you, his hand landed next to your knee, his finger twitched slightly.
‘Reacher settle down? We must be at the end of the world.’ You joked, he looked at you over his shoulder.
‘Not the end, just until you’re healed up.’ He said, your eyebrows jumped up.
‘You’re staying for me?’ You asked, your hands moved from your crossed legs to your chest, he nodded.
‘Shoulda stayed a long time ago.’ He admitted, you shook your head.
‘I’m capable of looking after myself.’ You replied, his hand landed on your knee before he squeezed it.
‘You shouldn’t have to be, I’m gonna be here.’ He told you, he didn’t break eye contact with you.
‘Reacher.’ You breathed, you placed your hand on top of his, your thumb stroked across the back.
‘Don’t try and convince me, I’m staying.’ He said, his gaze dropped to your joined hands.
‘I was going to say thank you.’ You informed him, he looked up to you before you both smiled at each other.
Tags (you all commented on my post) - @mariahill2001 @redpool @wolflover384 @jayblackpanther @incognito2252 @charmed-asylum @erajoie07 @midnightstar-90 @yourlocalnegroko @honestlysublimecherryblossom ~@annacavillsblog @cynic-spirit
#reacher x reader#reader x reacher#reacher imagines#reacher fanfiction#jack reacher#reacher#frances neagley#malcolm goodwin#karla dixon#david o'donnell
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@jakewife i hope you enjoy my love. let’s hope i get this one right the first time lmao ehshsjs you didn’t specify a trope so i just winged it—it turned out much longer than i anticipated
hufflepuff bf jake x slytherin reader.
right off the bat: slytherin x hufflepuff quidditch rivalry trope
elite enemies to lovers ( sorta ) trope. sorry not sorry i love it so much
jake gives sporty, friendly jock type. the one that is so popular and loved by everyone just because of how nice and cool he is without even trying
and you’re kinda giving nice but stern, oliver wood level quidditch obsession who lives, breathes and eats victory
iconic if you ask me
it’s never just a ‘friendly’ match when hufflepuff is against slytherin
it’s personal beef between you and jake
well. you
jake thinks it’s just the type of friendship you guys have
but you absolutely despise him and live to crush every single one of his dreams on that broomstick of yours
well, at least you think you do
your friends are convinced there’s something else that makes you so invested in jake
but you’re more than sure that it’s just because you dislike how cocky he is and want to dominate hufflepuff at quidditch
‘our match against hufflepuffs. we have to beat them or else life is worthless’
‘don’t we play ravenclaw first?”
‘NO ONE CARES ABOUT RAVENCLAW THIS IS ABOUT HUFFLEPUFF AND THE GOOD FOR NOTHING GOBLIN THEY CALL A CAPTAIN! HE’S A TERRIBLE PERSON’
you almost snap your broom, the mere mention of him gets you riled up
meanwhile, jake is just skipping around campus complimenting people like there’s no tomorrow
‘yo! is that a new tie? it brings out your eyes”
such a terrible person. honestly deserves a cell in azkaban
you don’t completely know why jake gets you so mad
more often than not you tell yourself that it’s just because jake burns your pride
he’s very good at quidditch, and sometimes, you feel like maybes he’s better than you
which you hate because you excel at the sport and it’s the one thing you love most in the world
and knowing he might be better burns. so you take it and turn it into sheer hatred for him
but you don’t really hate him at all
and you realise that when you watch him hit the ground during hufflepuff’s match against gryffindor
the game stops but you’re already on the field before the players realize what happened
‘jake? jake? can you hear me? Oh heavens—’
‘i’m in heaven? can you send one of your other angels down there to tell my angel, their name is y/n, that i really liked them?’
then he passes out?
and you’re just like???
did he just call you his angel?
WAIT DID HE JUST SAY HE LIKES YOU??
you don’t know when it happened but at some point, you’re pulled back by one of the teachers to let the other teachers have a look at him
and you’re just out of it so you don’t have any idea what’s going on
finally after jake’s been removed from the pitch one of your friends pull you away since it’s started to rain
‘you were on the pitch before anyone even realized jake was hurt…’
your friend is smirking, half expecting you to hit them over the head
but you don’t
‘i think i might like jake’
now that’s not what they were expecting
‘and i think he likes me too’
your entire friend group makes a massive scene of applauding and hooting, ‘it’s about time’
but you’re too focused on what happened back on the field
then you find yourself standing up and heading out of the great hall, your friends fading into the background as you rush to the hospital wing
jake is awake when you arrive and he beams at the sight of you
‘y/n! it’s good to see you, i like your hai—“
‘do you like me. yes or no.’
primary school crush core ^
jake’s taken back by your sudden question
but after a few minutes, he slowly nods his head
you weren’t actually expecting him to nod, so you stand there unsure of what to do
‘right then… i think i like you back’
nice
totally romantic
rom com confessions could never
jake grins — though he’s in a lot of pain so you can’t actually tell whether he’s grinning or grimacing
either way, a win is a win. you’re both now in like
DATING HUFFLEPUFF JAKE
after the awkward but kinda sweet confession in the hospital wing, the two of you decide that normal people start dating from then on
so that’s what happens
he leaves the hospital wing with a broken arm but he’s got you on his good one so he takes that as a win
everyone is flabbergasted when you rock up to the great hall holding his hand
all of your friends are exchanging money with jakes friends. turns out they had secret bets on how long it would take before the two of you finally got together
you’re not a pda person so hand holding or a quick cheek kiss is as far as you’re willing to go in public
‘can i at least peck your lip-’
‘put those lips near me whilst we’re in a public space and i will hex you’
hex him out of like, you like the boy too damn much to ever hurt him
you’d dive in front of a killing curse before you’d ever point one at him
but the threat still stands
in private though, you’re all over him
makeout sessions in the restricted section after jake charmed his way into getting a free pass for it
though peeves the ghost has horrible timing and tends to pop up to piss you both off
so you settle for myrtles bathroom
her crying is easy to drown out when you have jake sim’s lips all over you
him admiring you from across the room
you not so subtly biting your lip when he gets all smart in lesson and starts answering questions correctly
‘seriously? him being a smart arse is what gets you going?’
‘shut up jay, at least he has more brain cells than you’
that sure did hush jay up but not without him jabbing you with his elbow
jake sneaking into the slytherin dorms for cuddles
the next morning the two of you are late to lesson and end up showing up in each others uniform
‘mr sim. i don’t recall you being placed in slytherin.’
Mcgonagall peers down at jake’s green and silver tie and then shifts her gaze to you where you’re now looking down at your own which is yellow and black
she almost smirks when she sees you hide your face behind your book
the class whistles and hoots teasingly which only makes matters worse
the funny thing is… it’s not the first time that’s happened and it most certainly won’t be the last
the quidditch rivalry never fades
‘good luck kiss?’
‘eat grass, sim. i’m about to obliterate your entire team they won’t even see it coming!’
you aggressively push past him leaving him standing there dumbfounded
and then you run back with a sheepish smile
‘with love, it’s all with love. i love you! good luck!’
then you kiss him and run back to the slytherin locker rooms, totally unaware of what you just said
it doesn’t click until the game has already started and suddenly you’re mid air freaking out on your damn broom
‘yo slytherin angel! get your head in the game!’
it’s jake and that causes you to freak out more
which he realizes AND THEN HE GRINS
‘by the way, i love you too but if you don’t get your head in the game and play like the champion i know you are, i’ll break up with you’
damn. you’re a flustered mess on your broom because that really gets you
so you play like your life depends on it
it was a close match but slytherin wins
‘so… you love me, huh?’ jake rocks back and forth on his heels with a cheeky grin
you nod ‘and i recall, you called me a champion?’
‘seriously? we’re talking about a huge step in our relationship and you’re hung up on the fact that i called you a champion?’
of course you are
it fuelled your ego
you’re so high on adrenaline that you don’t care that you’re in the middle of the quidditch pitch
dropping your precious broom, you grab jake by his collar and pull him in for a much deserved kiss
the stadium explodes with cheers but you can’t find it in you to feel embarrassed
‘i love you, my favourite champion’
oh, jake sim. he really knows how to make you putty in his hands
#enhypen#enhypen imagines#enhypen scenarios#kpop scenarios#enhypen fluff#enhypen x reader#enhypen drabbles#kpop fluff#enhypen angst#enhypen headcanons#enhypen jake#jake sim x reader#jake sim scenarios#jake sim fluff#jake sim headcannons#jake#jake sim imagines#jake sim hufflepuff#enhypen harry potter#kpop headcanons#kpop harry potter
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The Night Shift.
chapter 2.
Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.
Repetitive.
It was all so fucking Repetitive.
So fucking repetitive. 5 hours of taking orders and making them. Tonight made me want to curl up in someone's arms and cry. But I didn't have anyone waiting for me at my tiny apartment. I had never even had a boyfriend before. My parents were so insistent that I find a beautiful, tall, blonde boy who plays football. I had never found that.
Repetitive. The ringing of the bell on the door snapped me out of my thoughts. i didn't bother brightening my expression, assuming it was just another drunk.
"What can I get for you?" I asked in a monotone voice, not looking up from the register.
"Y/n?" a familiar voice called. "You okay?" I looked up, my eyes meeting Johnnie's.
"Oh, hey. Sorry, it's been a long night. Seeing you is the first good thing that has happened to me tonight."
"Do you wanna sit down and talk about it?" He offered.
A small smile grew on my face. "why not? let me take your order first."
"Can I try a large vanilla coffee? Iced, please." His tone was calm and sweet, and he seemed less tired than he did last night.
He began to take out his wallet. "This one's on me." I commented. "Any updates about your ex?"
"I haven't heard much from her, and that makes me paranoid." he replied. "let me pay, Y/n. it's your paycheck."
I rolled my eyes. "You got me a donut last night, it's the least I can do." I smiled as he threw up his hands in defeat. "maybe she got bored."
"I hope so." he sighed, leaning over the counter has he did last night. "Do you have any crazy exes?"
My face flushed. "I've never dated anyone."
His eyes widened. "That's shocking, you're really pretty. Sorry if that offended you or something."
I shook my head, my face as red as a beet. He was very attractive himself, so the compliment caught me off guard. I had no idea what to say. "Thank you, uh, you're attractive yourself." i stuttered, muttering out the first thing that came to mind.
a small blush spread across his face as he smiled with his teeth. "what's stopped you from having a boyfriend?" he asked as I brought his coffee, as well as one I made for myself, to the nearest table. he sat across from me.
"My parents want me to have the perfect guy. Blonde, football, blue eyes, you know." i stopped and looked at him, seeing a dissapointed look on his face. "But that's not what I want. So I guess I've just been waiting for someone to come to me."
His facial muscles rested. "cool." he replied, taking a sip of his coffee. "this is really fucking good."
I laughed. "did it catch you off guard? I can't believe you, johnnie. I don't make shitty coffee." I teased.
he immediately shook his head. "no, I just usually don't like coffee."
I made an 'ah' sound and took a sip of my own.
"There's a new year's party this weekend, me and my best friend are going. You should go." he smiled. "Me and Jake can give you a ride and everything."
"hmm. I can try, but I don't see why I wouldn't be able to go. I've never been to a party."
"Oh Jesus. Have you ever drank?"
"Thats like asking if I breathe air." I rolled my eyes. "why 'oh jesus?'" I questioned in a mocking tone.
"New years parties are always fucking insane, in my opinion. I'm always reeking of some sort of alcohol even if I don't drink." he scrunched his nose slightly, as if he could smell it already.
"sounds like my type of event." I smirked, taking another drink.
He smiled with his teeth. "So you'll go?" he said excitedly.
"of course." I smiled. "it'd be nice to get out of the house."
"Tell me more about your family." He replied, intertwining his fingers.
"Well, my grandparents spent their whole lives saving up to buy this cafe." I began, mimicking my parents voices. "and, in their will, they passed it down to my mom and dad. I've been spending majority of my time in this building for as long as I can remember."
"are you a peoples person?" Johnnie asked me.
"like, am I good with people and like to be around them?" he nodded. "I guess so, but I like being alone, too. like, if I'm alone too long I get tired or if I'm with people for too long I get tired. I don't know, it's weird."
"understandable." Johnnie acknowledged.
"what about you?"
"I'm just like you. But I lean more towards being with, like, two people than being alone or in a big group." he explained, waving his hand around.
I nodded in agreement. Maybe it was a bad idea to go to this party, but I had little to lose.
"Can I get your number?" He asked me. I quickly wrote it down on a napkin.
my heart fluttered. I gave a guy my number. I wasn't expecting anything to come from me and johnnie, though.
#johnnie guilbert x you#johnnie guilbert x reader#johnnie guilbert#jake and johnnie#fanfiction#fanfic#smut#cafe aesthetic#cafe#the night shift
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I really loved the akutagawa x reader post. Could you maybe do one for dazai?
♡ Melancholy
Dazai Osamu x Reader
Desc: You comfort Dazai after a bad day. (fem reader)
TW/CW: angst, spoilers, harmful thoughts, dazai's past, abuse, might be ooc? not too familiar w bsd yet i'm new to the fandom :')
Dazai Osamu was a man who had lived through at least seven lifetimes in the span of one.
He'd seen things; things that nobody should've seen, but it didn't stop him from seeing them.
He saw Mori kill the old boss and rebuild Port Mafia anew; he was abused by him, and continued the cycle of abuse with Akutagawa, who eventually did it to Kyouka.
Oh, he was a bad man; a wicked, bad, person who had done unspeakable things under the orders of Mori (although some of those actions were not orders; rather, they were committed of his own will).
And although he has betrayed the mafia and joined the Armed Detective Agency, although he has saved countless lives (and the city of Yokohama, several times) he still sometimes finds himself thinking it wasn't enough.
Wasn't enough to wash his hands of the blood he's spilt; wasn't enough to cleanse his sins as they clung to him, digging their claws into his back and oozing inside, whispering in his ear that he'll never be good enough, never be able to do enough, never be able to save enough lives.
And sometimes, when you aren't around, he curls up into a little ball under his sheets and cries, sobbing into the comforter and choking as he tries to breathe (but miserably fails).
He wails into his blanket, shaking all over, hands trembling and eyes wide as he scratches at his throat and his chest, leaving red irritated marks as he tries to rid himself of his sins.
In the detective agency, he was Dazai; a charming, annoying, womanizer who never worked but always somehow managed to turn his share of the paperwork in.
At home, in the privacy of his bedroom, he was Osamu; a man who grew from the broken mold of his childhood, desperately picking up the pieces of his heart and gluing them back together only to fall apart at another one of Kunikida's scathing remarks or the looks from the Agency members varying from pitiful to condescending.
Osamu is sure that he's useless. A burden to the agency; kept around only as a pretty face for sore eyes.
He's been hurt much too much to let anyone know of his meltdowns; there was one close call when Atsushi questioned the splotchy patches of red on his face when he came out of the bathroom, but he managed to convince him it was the aftereffects of another poisonous mushroom and that he was fine, having already been treated by Yosano.
He's hurt too much to even want to fathom the idea of letting someone into his heart. No, what if they see the ugly creature of anxiety and fear and shun him, kicking the soft organ in disgust and making it crumble further into pieces?
You had been let in unwillingly; after worming your way into his heart, one day, things had changed.
You found him crying in your shared bedroom; chest heaving as he sobs into his palms, occasionally pawing at his bandages and tearing the soft fabric. He was so scared, that day, that moment; everything seemed to have been frozen as you two lock eyes, and for a moment, he's absolutely sure that his worst fears have come true, that you will shun him and kick him and sneer at him in disgust, before leaving and never coming back.
Oh, he was so surprised to learn that wasn't the case; when you had shushed him and pulled him into a soft, gentle, hug, and told him it would be alright, despite not knowing what he was crying about, he almost giggled; you didn't hate him? even after knowing his past? you didn't hate the monster that was in your arms?
Of course not, you told him. You're not a monster, Osamu, you murmur, hand carding through his hair as he shudders in your arms.
He blinks, once, twice; before fresh tears come into his eyes (these are ones of happiness) and a soft smiles curls his lips upwards as he lets his façade melt away and allows himself just this once to be rocked to a comfortable nap, knowing that if you've seen this side of him and still chose to embrace him that nothing would hurt him now because you were here, and you cared, and you forgave him for his sins.
And his heart twists in melancholy; there's something just on the tip of his tongue, something about his past that he can't quite piece together, but you press a soft kiss to the crown of his head and the thoughts and sadness melt away until he is not Dazai Osamu, the demon prodigy of the Port Mafia, the ability user who harnesses No Longer Human, and he is simply just a man who has found someone who cares about him.
And he feels a little branch grow out of his cold, dead heart, and he tells himself that maybe it wouldn't be so bad to be loved by you.
--
shii bro this one was long asf... uhmmmm i kinda got carried away :') wHOoPsiE
still very new to the bsd fandom so i apologize if my little scrunkly is ooc
#dazai x reader#osamu x reader#dazai osamu#bungo stray dogs spoilers#bungo stray dogs#bungou stray dogs x reader#bsd#bsd x reader#bsd dazai#bsd angst#bsd comfort
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That Was Hot But Maybe Don't Make A Habit Of Doing That Babe
warnings: well. assault. transphobia. some of my more. uh. salacious work. never proof read.
word count like barely over 1k.
---
“Aren’t you afraid? Out here insinuating that God made a mistake.”
You clutched your red solo cup a little closer to you, trying your best to ignore this acquaintance who thought she had a right to corner you in this living room and tell you what she thought about your sinful lifestyle. Because that’s what you come to house parties for, to give other guests unsolicited advice on their mortal soul. You took a deep breath, schooling your expression as Jessica prattled on.
“Your body is a temple, you know. You can’t just do whatever you want with it. It’s sacred.”
You stared at her thick eyeliner, wondering if she used a stencil or something to get the wing that smooth. Her long brown hair was pulled up into a “messy bun” and a quick glance at her feet proved she was wearing white converse. So, a woman who’s bitter about having never been sold to one direction for gambling money, it looks like. You’d never seen her outside of a professional setting, so this was a curious insight on her personality, if the glaring red flag of this entire conversation wasn’t that already.
“Is that so,” you said in the bored-est tone you could muster.
“It’s a shame, really. You could’ve been a good wife and had a family like God intended, but no man will ever want you until you quit it with this. Such a waste.”
Ah, and there’s the reminder that she doesn’t see you as anything more than your uterus. Jessica swept her eyes over your form, so tight to the wall you were up against that you might have to unstick yourself from the wallpaper after this. You watched her as the look of disgust graced her features. The other people at the party may as well have been shadows, just you and the she-wolf here in this moment.
“And you’re not fooling anyone, hon,” she snorted, “Honestly, anyone can see you’re just a woman who really let herself go.”
“Excuse me?” you said through gritted teeth.
She grinned like a shark, “I said I didn’t think it was possible, but you’ve only gotten fatter and uglier since this whole thing started. You poor girl, letting your mental illness ruin you like this. Maybe if we had gotten you into a good makeup artist--”
She didn’t get to finish her sentence before the fist collided with her cheekbone. Your eyebrows hit your hairline as you instinctually tried to back further into the wall.
Ah. Looks like your boyfriend finally got here.
“Holy shit man! Did you just punch out that chick?”
Doux stared at his still-raised fist, in disbelief himself that he just did that. “Uh…” he trailed, “I’m a feminist?”
You glanced over to her. Jessica was too caught up in gripping her newfound nosebleed to pay any attention to you.
“OKAY,” you grabbed his shirt collar, “We need to go have a serious conversation, right now,”
You headed off up the stairs of the house, pulling Douxie along as you heard Jessica whine,
“Perfect, I got blood on me. This blouse is ruined.”
Well, at least she was madder about her dry cleaning than the getting punched part.
“Did anyone see who the hell did that?”
..Okay maybe not.
“I don’t know, Jess, it happened so fast, sorry. Let’s get you another drink, yeah?” You heard the host tell her. Fortunately, no one at this party was keen on the idea of having the cops called, so you could count on them to diffuse this situation for you.
You quickly found the upstairs bathroom, right where you remembered it. Luckily wide open and vacant. You shoved Doux inside, locking the door behind you. He awkwardly perched on the edge of the bathtub, rubbing his now sore knuckles, as you turned around to glare at him. His gangly legs kind of reminded you of a spider as he stamped his feet in annoyance.
“What. The fuck. Was that.” you stalked towards him.
“I’m not about to defend my need to defend you.” His tone was fast and angry, telling you was still riding out the adrenaline high from instigating a fight. He stood to meet your level. Or slightly tower over it, as it were.
You grabbed his collar again. Douxie stared you down as you leaned into his space, and he pushed himself into yours until your noses were brushing, pupils blown wild.
“I’d say it’s my responsibility, even.”
You aggressively kissed him, clacking your teeth together, but neither of you seemed to care. Your hands pinned his face into yours, and he grabbed your hips, pulling your body closer into his.
Your lips dragged together in a dance. It was amazing how easily he could make your head spin. Douxie moaned into you, and you, not for the first time, wished you could get a recording of that sound to play over and over again. You smiled into the kiss.
His hands roamed up to your ribs, fingers digging into the flesh of your chest beneath him. You gently bit down on his lower lip in retaliation, suckling an apology as he made a noise that could only be described as a hot little whimper.
You started walking him backwards, until he hit the wall behind him. You pushed a leg in between his, and an arm up on the wall beside his head, trapping him against you. Well, not trapping. He was bigger than you and could overpower you anytime he wanted to. That just made it sexier in your opinion.
He pulled back slightly, just to run his tongue over your lips, making you gasp and provide an opportunity for him to push in past your teeth. Doux moaned as he ran his tongue over yours, driving you crazy. God, you loved how vocal he was. And you loved tasting his breath like this.
Douxie continued exploring your mouth like he hadn’t memorized the pattern of your teeth by now and you let him have this bit of dominance over you, considering you were currently boxing him into the wall. He dragged his tongue along the roof of your mouth, and your brain shut off. Nothing was happening except this feeling. He was the only person in the world and--
A loud bang bang bang from someone knocking on the door reminded you where you were. And there were in fact more people here.
You pulled apart, gasping for breath. His face was adorably flushed.
“Just for the record, I wasn’t reprimanding you," you told him breathlessly.
“I can see that now.”
You snickered as he started fixing his hair in the mirror in an attempt to look less disheveled. It wasn’t going to matter when you both walked out together, but sure.
“I know the party just started but we might need to leave already.”
“Oh yeah, definitely. we ‘might’.” You smiled up at him, as you took his hand, “C’mon let’s get out of here before Jessica sees me again.”
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Trying New Things (Lawrence/Fem MC Fanfic)
MC convinces Lawrence to go out for Poke Bowls with her! A more humorous fluffy fic, as much as you can get with Lawrence at least!
Contains: Female Mc, Mention of dead animals, mentions of sickness/human death, MC has seen the river.
Lawrence didn’t like exiting his comfort zone. His comfort zone did not include much. His apartment, the forest. That was it for physical places he dwelled. When it comes to food, well. He just got whatever was nearby, fast, available. This usually meant convenience store food, fast food. Anything that meant minimal contact with a living, breathing person.
His trash can was a graveyard to the wrappers of greasy sandwiches, cups that once contained noodles, and an embarrassing amount of energy bars.
So, how did he end up here? A small, brightly lit store, playing music just a smidge too loudly for his comfort, surrounded by people.
The answer was always the same when it came to these things. Her. She was standing next to him now, his hand gripped within his tightly, reassuringly, grounding him. And preventing him from just walking out.
She was the only one he trusted, she was the only one among the others who was like him. She had seen the river, she had remembered the river. She was his single thread tying him to this world, encouraging him to explore it and have fun in it.
And this had been her idea, she had mentioned craving it lately. And she had finally convinced him to come with her, to try it for himself.
“I think, I’ll get my usual salmon bowl!” her voice interrupted his thoughts. “What do you want Lawrence?”
Shit. He was supposed to have been looking at the menu, deciding what he wanted. They were almost to the front of the line. He looked up at the menu. There was too much for him too take in in such a short amount of time.
“You can order for me.” he mumbled, squeezing her hand. “You know what I like.” She gave him a smile, a smile that made him forget he was surrounded by people for a moment.
“Sure thing, Law.” The well used nickname swirled in his head, and he barely registered her ordering, only really listening to what she was getting him.
“My boyfriend-” boyfriend. Boyfriend. Boyfriend. Boyfriend. He felt like he had just ingested butterflies. “He’ll take spicy salmon, with jalapenos, Red onion, Cilantro, topped with Wasabi Mayo, Kimchi, and Chili flakes….. Oh, does he want a tea? Uhm… How about a Jasmine Milk Tea, Zero sugar, with bubbles?”
Bubbles? Were they gonna shake it extra? Lawrence didn’t know, or really care much. He was just happy she seemed to be adding everything spicy she could see on the menu. He was flushing red just a bit, the cashier was looking at him with wide eyes.
“Can you make it to go?” Lawrence asked, the only words he’d spoken to anyone else besides her. The cashier blinked and then nodded.
“Of course! It will be up in fifteen minutes! Your number will be called!” The cashier handed them a slip with their order number on it.
Fifteen minutes. He could last another fifteen minutes here.
“What is this place, again?” he asked quietly, pressing himself against the wall, hoping no one would look at him.
“Song Tea and Poke!” She said, “I used to come here all the time, they’re really good!”
“And what’s poke, again?” he remembered her first explanation, he just wanted her to keep talking. Give him something to focus on besides all the people in here.
“It’s a Hawaiian dish, but this place serves it as a fusion between Japanese and Hawaiian foods. So it’s raw fish on top of rice, with various toppings.”
Raw fish… he’d never eaten raw meat before. On purpose. There was that one suspect burger he had gotten from a new chain that had opened near his workplace. Several days of living in his tiny cramped bathroom until eventually…
A mass of gray, ever moving water, standing in it, remembering his last moments of his aching body, trying to give out more liquid, being unable too. Allowing himself to fall backwards, back to the world.
Waking up with the most horrible case of cotton mouth he had ever experienced, and he had unfortunately also pissed his pants. Not much to piss at that point but, he still just threw them out rather than deal with them, and practically waterboarded himself in his bathroom sink trying to rehydrate.
She hadn’t been around at that point. If she had, she probably would have prevented it from ever happening. Kept him drinking water, washed his pants for him. She cared like that, he supposed he did too. Even though both of them knew they would both come back. He’d turned her into a river walker as well.
She was still so much better at this whole human thing than he was though. Able to effortlessly talk with strangers, order food, and go shopping. She was convincing him to do a lot of things too.
He had enjoyed the museums, he had to admit. They were quiet, and he could stare for as long as he wanted. The zoo had also been fun, though none of the animals in the petting section had approached him, no matter how much corn he held in his hand. He hadn’t known what to expect, animals never liked him much. He had ended up leaving in a huff, childishly letting the feed fall from his hands like a child dropping something their parents would not buy for them.
She had apologized to him for hours afterwards, even though he assured her he wasn’t mad at her. He was mad at the rest of the world for not understanding him. Mad at that damned sheep too.
“Fifty three! You’re order is ready!” he was jolted from his thoughts. He glanced down at the receipt in her crumpled hands. Yep, they were fifty three.
“I’ll go wait in the car.” he mumbled, watching her nod. He quickly made his escape, glad for the silence that was awaiting him in the vehicle. A few minutes later she came out, clutching the bag of food close. She was practically buzzing with excitement, smiling at him with a huge silly grin on her face.
He found himself smiling as well, she was the only one who could do that for him. Make him happy that someone else was happy.
It didn’t take long for them to get back home…. Their home. A small apartment that they had picked out together, since realistically, she couldn’t fit all of her stuff into his previous one. Despite the new home, her presence, and everything she tried though, food still went bad just a bit too fast around him.
He did like it when she did cook, when she found time and resources too though. Which wasn’t often, since she needed to find recipes that fed two without leftovers. Leftovers would go bad within a day around him.
She had also brought something he hadn’t considered having before. A kitchen table to eat at. And she insisted they eat it whenever they ate at home. He didn’t really see the reason why the floor worked just as well. But he didn’t see a reason to fight it either, so he just went along with it.
Pulling the plastic cover off the food, the first thing that struck him was how colorful it was. The vegetables were all fresh, the fish was vibrant and shiny. It reminded him of a garden, overgrown and blooming in early summer.
“Here, straw.” He looked up as she handed him a straw. It was wide, and had a pointed end. She pointed to his tea, which was sealed with plastic.
“Stab.” She said simply, holding her own in a fast before puncturing the cup.
“Why can’t they just have a normal lid?” Lawrence asked, lining up his own straw.
“So it can travel before being drunk, and won’t spill. I think.” she answered, doing a half shrug. Lawrence stabbed, as per her directions. The popping of the lid reminded him of how a deer corpse would finally pop, after the gasses inside had reached their peak.
He set the drink aside, focusing back on the food. Raw fish, fresh vegetables. He was sort of afraid it would rot before his very eyes just because of how he was.
He was struck again with the fact that he had never eaten raw fish before. But, if she ate it before, and was still fine, then he should be fine too. It crossed his mind suddenly, perhaps she first saw the river because she ate raw fish.
It caused him to snort, in a small burst of laughter.
“What’s so funny?” she asked. Her voice was muffled, she had already begun eating. She looked really cute with her cheeks stuffed to the absolute brim.
“Nothing.” He answered, bringing a spoon full of food to his mouth. He had been expecting the fish to be unpleasant, slimy, way too chewy. Instead, it gave way easily, it was extremely tender too. He had never had anything like it, and the toppings she’d picked out for him meant it was super spicy too.
“It has a nice kick to it.” he commented, taking another bite before reaching for the tea. It wasn’t like any tea he had ever made before. It looked like coffee his sister used to make. All Milk.
He took a small sip first, letting the flavor wash over his tongue. Not sweet at all, just mostly herbal tea flavor, though the milk did dull the flavor a lot. Not bad though. He took another, deeper sip from it, closing his eyes, trying to draw out a deeper flavor profile-
Something hit the back of his throat. His gag reflex made him swallow too quickly, and he began to cough, liquid spewing from his mouth and down his front.
He couldn’t breath, and the knowledge of that sent his brain into instant panic, as he slammed a fist against the table, holding a hand to his mouth as he gagged up more tea.
“Oh my god!” he heard her exclaim, she was out of her chair, grabbing a rag. “Are you okay?” she asked, wiping up his face in a hurry as he took in a few deep, heaving breathes.
“I-I nearly saw the river.” He mumbled, staring at his tea sodden sweater. Too his surprise, he heard a small giggle. Then it grew into a full blown laugh.
“Oh Law…” she said it with such affection it made his face heat up. He pointed at the tea, now noticing the brown spheres sitting at the bottom. He had figured it was a design on the cup.
“Are those… bubbles?” he asked, remembering her order. Add Bubbles.
He wasn’t sure he really liked those bubbles.
#lawrence oleander#btd 2#Boyfriend to death#Boyfriend to death 2#Lawrence BTD#BTD Lawrence#BTD2 Lawrence#Lawrence BTD2#Lawrence Oleander Fanfic#Lawrence BTD Fanfic#BTD Fanfic#BTD2 Fanfic
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i wonder
shuri udaku x reader
requested by: anon
summary: an experimental kiss with shuri helps you realize that you like her
warnings: dumb idiots in love
word count: 2.5k
a/n: this took a little longer than expected, but i love the way it came out and i hope anon likes it too because it was such a good idea and i'm glad you came to me for it :) i'm not sure it has everything you asked for but i hope you like it either way
it wasn't often that someone could say that the black panther was their best friend. in fact, you were pretty sure there actually wasn't anyone else who could say that.
how lucky you were that your mother had grown up with queen ramonda as her friend. ever since you were a child, you would get to visit the palace- every kid's dream, really- and while your mothers chatted, you made friends with shuri.
it almost felt like fate was what brought the two of you together.
you grew up alongside the princess, now turned panther, and you wouldn't change that for anything. none of the friends you'd made in your life could compare to her in any way. you never felt the way you felt with her with anyone else.
you weren't sure what it was.
every time you saw her, every time she greeted you, it felt like your heart missed a beat. when you heard her laugh, your breath would be swept away as you grinned, happy you were the one who could make her crack up with the stupidest jokes.
sometimes you would watch her work in her lab, legs swinging from the chair you were sitting on, and you couldn't help but admire the way she looked when she was so focused on her new technology. her eyebrows furrowed, causing a crease that you wished you could wipe away.
just being in her presence made you unbelievably happy, and you’re beyond grateful that after everything that’s happened throughout your lives- she’s stuck around. people usually come and go, but ever since you were young you would promise that you were stuck together. so far, it seemed true.
-
your fuzzy blanket is wrapped around you as you spread out on your couch, attention fully on the tv in front of you.
it was midnight- most people would be fast asleep in their beds, but you had lost track of time binging all of your favorite movies.
the only thing that broke you out of your trance was the trill of the kimoyo beads on your wrist.
in slight confusion, you accept the call. "panther," you greet, grabbing the remote to turn down the tv, "it's late, why are you up?"
"i could say the same to you." you can almost hear the tired smile that she wears on her face.
turning on your side, you yawn. "i'm just binging."
"mind if i join?" the question surprises you. yes, the two of you had spent nights together on many occasions. often at least once a week. the only fact that confused you is why she would call so late. "i can't sleep." it's almost as if she could hear your thoughts when she expanded upon her request.
"you know i'd never say no." you tell her.
"and that's why you're my favorite person," she states and you grin, "i'll be right over."
"can't wait." the call ends seconds later, and you pause the tv to sit up. you hated moving from such a comfortable position, but popcorn was a must when having a movie night with shuri.
after you finished, you reassume your position on the couch, tossing a few pieces into your mouth as you unpause.
a little while later, you hear the door open and close, followed by footsteps entering the living room. "i see you're comfortable," the laugh that follows her comment is almost angelic.
"well, what can you expect so late at night?" you look up at her.
she shrugs, "got me there." she stands in front of you, blocking your view of the tv. "scooch."
you do as she asks, simply sitting up just long enough for her to get comfortable before laying your head down in her lap.
it's a familiar feeling, but every time you do it you feel your heart skip a beat.
"what are we watching?" she questions, propping her feet up on your coffee table and resting her hand on your stomach. there's a flutter there that always follows her affectionate touches, but you brush it off.
"some romance movie." you tell her, not fully remembering exactly what it was about. truthfully, you had been drifting in and out during the film, closing your eyes or switching your attention to your phone. but it didn’t really matter, it was the same as every other romance movie.
you look at the screen just as the soon to be couple wraps around each other in a loving embrace. reunited after a break up and time spent apart with no contact.
they stare into each others eyes, and you see the man’s gaze flicker to the love interest’s lips. seconds later, he pulls her into a deep kiss.
"do you ever wonder what that feels like?" you ask softly.
her soft gaze switches from the tv to you, "what what feels like?"
your eyes meet hers and you think for a moment. "kissing someone." you mumble, "well, not just kissing someone- like, being with someone-"
"i do." she cuts off your ramble, finger tracing shapes on your skin and sending goosebumps across it. "i mean, who doesn't?"
a small smile graces your face. after a beat of silence, she speaks again. "what if we kissed? just to, you know… see what it feels like."
you feel heat rising to your face, and you wonder why your heart was beginning to race.
"unless you don't want to-"
"no, i do." you cut her off, sitting up suddenly, "i mean, who's a better first kiss than your best friend?"
her beautiful smile reveals itself and you feel like you're turning to jelly. why? you don’t know.
her hand raises to rest on your cheek, and you wonder if she can feel it burning under her touch.
there's a slight hesitation when she leans in.
your lips hover over each other, breaths mingling. it takes an excruciatingly long time, barely brushing against each other before the gap is fully sealed.
your eyes fluttered shut, and your hands find their place on her hips moments later to hold onto her.
your stomach felt like it was doing somersaults as you pull her closer, part of you feeling like it wasn’t enough.
you're not sure how long it lasted- seconds, minutes- but it doesn't feel like enough. you have to stop yourself from chasing after her lips again when she pulls away, opening your eyes.
"damn," you whisper, face still dangerously close to hers, catching your breath.
she gives a small nod, "that was good." she chuckles softly, "are you sure you've never done that before?"
you laugh, looking into her eyes. it takes everything in you to not lean in again and steal another kiss as she licks her lips. "i was gonna ask the same thing."
she glances towards the tv, seeing the credits beginning to roll down the screen, before looking at the digital clock below the tv. “it’s really late.” she mumbles.
your hands slowly retreat from her waist. “yeah.” you run your hand down your face, questioning the pang that you felt in your heart. "we should go to bed."
after cleaning up the living room, the both of you crawled into your bed next to each other.
you had always cuddled on the nights you spent together, but tonight it felt different. having her arms around your waist while her head rested on your chest and your own arm around her back felt like so much more than it usually was. it made your heart beat a little bit faster than before.
“good night.” you whispered in the dark room, not sure if she was even still awake.
but a few seconds later, you barely hear her mumble a good night.
-
when you woke up the next morning, she was no longer next to you. it took a few minutes to realize, patting your hand all over the mattress and finally opening your eyes to see that she was gone.
with a frown, you sit up and go to grab your phone. right next to it, you see a little note.
sorry for leaving without saying bye, you looked too peaceful to wake up. i was needed in the lab.
you sigh, placing it back where it was left before getting out of bed. part of you was upset that she was gone and you didn't get to see her. but why? you saw her every week.
but as time passed, you quickly started to realize why you missed her so much.
but you needed confirmation.
your fingers tap against the counter as the facetime call rings, waiting for the pan on the stove to heat up.
just in time, your friend picks up. "what's up!"
"riri, i need help." your lack of greeting worries her, you can see it in the way her eyebrows scrunch together.
you crack an egg into the pan, "yeah, what is it?"
"how would i know if i… had feelings for someone?" the pitch of your voice raises slightly at the end of your sentence as you avoid looking at your phone.
when you look back after a moment, she has a knowing grin spread across her face, as if she knew what you were thinking.
"what's that smile for?" you ask worriedly.
she shakes her head, "nothing. can i ask who it is that you like?"
your lips purse as you watch the egg white bubble, "well i don't know if i actually like them. that's why i called you."
"is it shuri?"
your eyes widen as your head whips towards your phone, "what? what- no-" you let out a nervous laugh, "she's- yeah… it's shuri."
her grin widens, "i've been waiting for this for so long, you have no idea."
your eyebrows furrow, "what do you mean you've been waiting for this?"
"oh come on, man." she rolls her eyes, "every time i visit y'all are staring at each other like you're the only ones in the world."
your face heats up at that. "are you serious?"
"duh," she shifts on her bed, "what made you finally realize it?"
you stay quite for a moment, wondering if you should tell her or not. "come on, y/n/n. just tell me."
sighing, you look at your egg, flipping it over. "we kind of kissed."
"kind of kissed?!" her sudden screech makes you wince, "sorry, sorry- how and when exactly did this happen?"
your finger taps against the counter. "last night. we were having one of our sleepovers and we just… wondered what it would be like to kiss someone."
"oh my god y'all kill me." she groans, "you need to pick your ass up and go tell her you like her before i do it for you."
"you wouldn't." you glare at the phone.
"you know i would."
-
yeah, you knew she would.
but it still took you days to even think of telling shuri how you felt. parts of you were conflicted, wondering if you were really into her or if it was some sort of effect from kissing her.
but riri said you guys seemed to like each other way before now.
and she was irritating with how much she was pushing you to tell her. you'd get a text every day.
riri- did you tell her?
y/n- not yet
riri- you need to tell her
y/n- yeah, you've only told me a million times
over and over again.
about a week later, you finally decided it was time. going longer than a few days with no talking to shuri was rare, you can't remember the last time that happened. so today you were going to pay her a visit.
face to face, so you can't back out, just as riri told you.
"so you go visit her, right?" your friend speaks through the phone, continuing after your hum of acknowledgement, "and then you tell her that hey, i like you. that simple."
"but it's easier said than done." you groan, shifting your position on the couch.
"of course it is!" she sounds way too perky for you, "but literally everything is."
sighing heavily, you nod. "so you're gonna do it?" she questions.
"maybe." she glares at you, "fine, yes. i'll do it."
you rehearse the speech you've prepared in your head as you walk through the long halls of the palace, fidgeting with your fingers. small smiles were flashed to any guards that you walked by.
when you entered shuri's lab, you could see all of the scientists and engineers working away. it wasn't hard to spot shuri in the midst of them all. seeing her sent your heart beating faster than it should be when you're simply standing there, and you have to take a deep breath to calm yourself.
finally, you gather enough courage to walk up to her, hands laced together in front of you while your thumb rubbed circles on the back of your hand.
"hey, shuri." you greet once you get close enough, and she immediately turns around.
her smile almost makes you choke, "y/n!" she wraps her arms around you, "it's been a bit."
nodding, you return her hug. "yeah… i actually wanted to talk to you about something."
worry washes over her face, "of course, what is it?"
you glance around the lab. "let's go somewhere private." you mumble, grabbing her hand and pulling her out of the room. she doesn't resist, following you wherever you turn.
when you finally find a space you deem private enough, you stop and spin on your heel to look at her. she barely stops in time to not bump into you.
the speech you had purposefully crafted in your mind suddenly vanished, and you were internally panicking. she could probably see it in your eyes.
you decide to just wing it.
"i like you."
when she's quiet for a moment, you worry that you've just ruined everything. her eyes just wander your face. “you like me?”
you gulp, avoiding her gaze. oh bast, this was a mistake. why did you do this?
“uh- yeah.” your voice comes out weaker than you expect it to, and you hate it. “after we kissed i just- you know-” you finally look at her, “i’m sorry.”
the soft smile on her face confuses you.
“i like you too, y/n/n.” her voice is low, as if it’s a secret that she’s whispering.
your breath turns shaky. “really?”
her hand goes to rest on your cheek, just like it had a few nights ago. you’re sure you might go into cardiac arrest soon. “of course.”
“oh, thank god.” you let out a deep breath, “i really thought that i just ruined-”
your sentence is cut off when she pulls you into her, lips crashing against your own.
it's perfect.
the way you can feel her nose nudging into your cheek, how her hands migrate from your neck and down your arms to hold your waist.
your own hands had gone from your sides to her hips, feeling the skin that was barely exposed beneath her shirt.
how you didn't realize your feelings way, way long ago, you don't know. but you don't think it matters now that you have her in your arms.
-
taglists
main: @horrorklaus @megasimpleplan4ever
marvel: none yet
shuri: none yet
#marvel x reader#avengers x reader#mcu x reader#shuri x reader#shuri udaku x reader#black panther x reader
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Music to my Ears V2
Read on AO3 🖤 Requests are Open 🖤 Fic/Request Master List
Original Summary: Heimdall finds you in Vanaheim, as the Scion of the Aseir it’s his job to punish traitors, but he has some other ideas besides fighting you
🖤 Pairing: Heimdall/Fem!Reader
🖤 Warnings: Smut, Female Reader, NSFW
The original was inspired by this audio I made with Heimdall's voice and AI.
This is a secondary version of the original story as I was asked to do an alternate version where Heimdall change’s sides since he’s in love with the reader.
“Ah I should have expected to run into you here too. Sizzles wasn’t looking too hot the last time I saw him, don’t worry though Sunshine, because I’ll set you ablaze myself.”
Heimdall laughed as you backed away from him. You felt like an animal that had been caged in, the only way out of your current predicament was to either disappear into the ground, or somehow get past Heimdall yourself. Neither option was a good one.
You continued to back up until you were stopped by the vine covered rock wall. You gulped as you watched him hop off of Gulltoppr and begin towards you on foot. ‘Fuck where’s Kratos, Atreus…Freya?’ You desperately thought to yourself.
“Oh Sunshine, they aren’t coming to your rescue, you know that right? Even if they tried, you can’t really think anyone would be able to stop me from getting to you, do you?”
You hated that he could see your thoughts right now. The fear. The panic. The despair. You almost couldn’t believe this is the same man who you gifted your trust, who you allowed to bed you in Asgard. All of that was thrown away now, whatever you were before…it meant nothing now that you were standing on opposite ends of the battlefield. This isn’t what you wanted though, and you knew that. He knew that. It changed nothing. The moment he sensed even the slightest betrayal on you, the two of you were done.
“Why so quiet? Your last few moments of life and really you have nothing to say? I am profoundly unimpressed. I truly expected more out of you.” He shrugged as he continued his stroll towards you.
You looked up and down, side to side, trying to find anything that would save you. You were so focused on your escape attempt you hadn’t realized how close he had gotten until you felt his hand on your chin, turning you to look up at him. You were met with purple glowing eyes and a sneer.
“Are you being shy now? You weren’t shy the other day when you were. . . mewling for me. This is really no fun Sunshine. If you’re going to be a traitor, at least have the guts to back it up.”
‘Heimdall please.’ You said in your head as you trembled under his touch. He searched your face for a moment, scanning you up and down. “Now that I think about it, perhaps I should bend you over right here and see what other noises I can get you to make for me.”
Your face went absolutely red at the comment, you weren’t completely sure if it was from fear, shame, or arousal…you settled on all three.
“Actually, I am sure that’s what I am going to do.” Heimdall leaned forward and licked your earlobe before whispering to you. “Be a good girl for me.”
“H-Heimdall..” You trembled when you said his name. “C’mon it doesn’t need to be like this…you know I never wanted to betray you, I still don’t.” You desperately brought a memory to the forefront of your mind.
The All Father had for the first time in a long time been upset with Heimdall. Odin had compared him to Thor and Baldur, calling him useless in a fit of anger. You had never seen the golden God so defeated looking before.
“Heimdall…I just don’t think you give yourself enough credit.” The man scoffed at you. “I think I give myself plenty of credit. I am the Scion of the Aseir, the Watchmen of the Gods, I hold Gjallhorn and will Herald in -”
You had cut him off with a small fit of laughter. “That’s exactly what I mean, Heimdall. You’re more than just those titles. You’re an actual living breathing person ya know? Think about it, what happens after Ragnarok, when there’s nothing left to Herald in and there are no more enemies?” You’d never forget the look on his face when you said that. You had spent the rest of the night talking to him, doing your best to comfort him in a way that wouldn’t offend him or make him think you pity him. Somehow your talk had led to kissing, and from kissing to more.
You could see Heimdall’s face change slightly for a moment as he saw the memory in your mind. You couldn’t discern the emotion he had on display.
“It matters not.” He said. “I saw the betrayal in your mind when you spoke to the Jotunn brat. Bringing up memories to try and manipulate me won’t work.”
“Heimdall… for once look past your initial perception, please. You’re right I DON’T bow to Odin, I never will. But you…I would never betray you.”
“A betrayal of Odin is a betrayal to me.”
“Does it have to be? You protect Asgard, the realm you love so much right? If we can defeat Odin, maybe Asgard doesn’t need to be destroyed during Ragnarok.” You thought of something else, the future you envisioned with him. A shared bed in Himinbjorg, lazily riding Gulltoppr together in the sunset over the fields of Asgard, making love in an open field under the stars.
You watched his brows knit in a look of muddled emotions. “Manipulative little….” he stopped. He had you caged against the wall, putting both of his hands on either side of your face, his eyes closing. Every time he looked into yours, he saw more things that brought about pain for him. It would’ve been easier if you just assumed the role of the traitor.
When he opened his eyes again, he met yours directly, he was frozen in place. He saw himself in your mind. The way you saw him, the way you felt about him. The hues of your love were warm reds and oranges, like waves in a sunset that crashed over him. For his whole life he had only felt he was any value to Odin. He would compete against his brothers knowing it was never love he would receive in return. Praise? Sure. Adoration? Maybe a little. Love? Never.
“Heimdall..” You said his name almost in a whisper, putting your hand on his cheeks and rubbing them soothingly. He seemed to snap back to reality as he looked down at you. “Sunshine…”
He leaned forward and captured your lips with his own, softly. “You really think you can defeat the All Father? Don’t answer that, you really do.”
“Well… to be fair Heimdall, if you’re with us who does Odin really have left? We both know Thor’s heart was stained against him the moment his sons died.”
Heimdall considered your words for a moment. He thought back to the beautiful visions you crafted in your sweet head for him to see. Maybe those were a future worth fighting for.
“Fine.” He said crashing his lips into yours again, pulling you into a tight hug. “Fine, Sunshine. But only for the chance to see those cute tits in an Asgardian field.” His words made you blush, and you didn’t expect anything less from Heimdall, romantic flattery was never truly his style.
“First though….. I still wanna see what pretty little sounds I can get out of you.” You gawked at him. ‘He can’t be serious, right here? What if someone walks by.’ You thought to yourself.
“Let them watch then.” He said with a shrug. “Then they will know that you’re mine.” He pressed you back against the wall kissing your mouth before he placed a trail of kisses down to your jaw and neck, nipping every few spots. The kisses were sweet and had your heart fluttering, until he sucked hard on your collar bone, getting you to yelp. You knew a purple mark was forming there already.
Heimdall seemed pleased with that noise as he slid his fingers up over your dress, undoing the string keeping it to you and allowing it to slide off. The cool air of Vanaheim caused you to shudder a little. “Don’t worry, if you’re a good girl for me I’ll make sure you’re nice and warm by the time we’re done.” He continued with his mouth, crouching a little so he could suck one of your hardening nipples. Another delicious mixture of a yelp and a moan. He worked your other nipple with his hand as his mouth continue down your stomach, placing hickies, kisses, and love bites as he went.
“You’re gorgeous, you know that Sunshine?” He didn’t give you much chance to respond as he began kissing the inside of your thighs. He loved the way your legs trembled under him. “Sensitive, sensitive.” He teased, kissing everywhere but the one spot that you wanted. He could already see how wet you were and he chuckled. “All for me? I’m honored.”
You were almost panting by the time he lifted you up by your waist, he held you high enough against the wall that he could stand and be face to face with your little wet pussy. You loved how strong he was, the way he seemed to be able to hold you like a feather. He leaned forward and lapped at your pussy slowly, dragging his tongue from your sopping hole to your clit with a couple of lazy licks. The feeling had you reeling already.
“Heimdall…” You moaned out his name. He smiled against your wetness, he knew what he did to you, and he loved it. He then dove in, devouring your pussy like it was his last meal, lapping from hole to clit before sucking on the little pleasure bead. If he didn’t have a good grip on your legs you would have clamped them around his head, a mortal man’s may have popped like a watermelon.
“That’s my girl, making all those pretty noises for me. That’s what I wanna hear.” He kisses your clit before teasing and sucking on it more and more. You feel wound up, the nice tense ball of heat in your lower region felt like it was about to burst.
You covered your mouth with your hands, worried that if you screamed too loud it would draw the attention of others. When he saw that you did this he stopped completely, you let out a disappointed whine as he set you down.
“What did I say? I wanted to hear all the pretty noises my Sunshine has to make, so there will be none of that.” He says motioning to your hands. He slipped off his belt and tightened around your wrists, not enough to hurt, just tight enough that he was able to hook your hands on a branch that was sticking through the stone wall, immobilizing you.
“Much better!” He said lifting your heat up to his face again. Your cheeks were burning red, you wanted to protest but hadn’t the time when he resumed his attack on you, lapping at your clit. He used his left hand to hold your hip, legs tossed over his shoulders for support. He used his right hand to slide two of his fingers into your core, matching the speed with what his tongue was doing to you.
You screamed. The ball of heat in your stomach finally burst and you came screaming, your juices dripping down his mouth and chin.
He set you down gently and you were grateful for the branch now, as you wouldn’t be able to stand on your own with how your legs shook with aftershocks of your orgasm. You watched as he removed his bracers, tunic, and the undershoot.
You admired his lean muscle in the moonlight, lit only by the few fire torches set around the area. You could see his erection was straining against his dark pants, and you unconsciously licked your lips thinking about it, which did not go unnoticed by him.
He undid his pants just enough to let his throbbing cock spring free, precum already leaking out of the tip. “That look on your face sweetheart, is this what you’re wanting?” He asked gesturing down to his cock.
You nodded dumbly, your eyes already hazed over with the lust from your first orgasm. By this point you didn’t care who heard, all you could think about was Heimdall. His taste, his smell, the idea of having him stuff you completely.
He could read what you wanted easily. “Say it. Say it outloud Sunshine, what do you want.”
“Please Heimdall…I want to feel you inside of me.”
Heimdall smiled, lifting your legs up again to align himself at your hole. He pushed in slowly as and groaned at the nice friction against himself until he bottomed out inside of you. He stood there unmoving, besides the thumb he decided to rub against your cheek. “You’re so gorgeous like this you know.” His hand on your hip prevented you from moving and squirming for any kind of friction. He was just enjoying being so close to you…and of course the feelings of frustration floating through your pretty head.
“What’s wrong? Is this not enough for you?” He chuckled. “All you said was that you wanted to feel me inside of you, and inside of you I am.” He teased but leaned forward to suck on your bottom lip when he saw the pout that formed. “If you want something, you have to ask for it.”
“Please Heimdall….just…please fuck me…wanna feel you move…” You whined trying to squirm in his grasp. He leaned forward giving you one last kiss.
“As you wish Sunshine.” He said pulling out to the tip before slamming back in. The noise you made was euphoric for him, only second to the way your walls clamped around him. He pulled out again and began to thrust into your heat at a steady pace, pleasurable for you both. He drank in the little mewls and whimpers he was able to pull from your mouth. “Such a good girl, taking all of me, making beautiful music for me too.”
When he felt he was close, he used his thumb to rub circles on your clit in time with his thrusting. “That’s in, cum for me one more time.” He cooed picking up the pace, again you felt yourself spasm and cry out for your second more intense orgasm. Heimdall’s thrusts were more erratic as he was close, finishing inside you with hot ropes of his cum.
He took a moment to catch his breath before pulling out of you and undoing the belt keeping your hands up. He made sure your were steady on your feet and helped you back into your clothing as he redressed himself as well.
There was a brief silence between you, but not uncomfortable. He heard the thought in your head and turned to face you. “Y/N….I love you too,” he replied before leaning down to kiss you again. This kiss was different, not lustfull, but deep and passionate, your heart nearly cried when you heard him say the words back to you.
He helped lift you onto Gulltoppr’s saddle so you could sit behind him. “If you really think you can convince that group of idiots to let me help…then I suppose we should be off.”
“They’re not idiots, Heimdall.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.” He said pulling the reins so the large beast began to move. You wrapped your arms around him, burying your face into his back. This was never the outcome you had expected, but you were fluttering inside with joy at just knowing there was a chance for you two. “I love you.” You whispered out loud into his back.
He gave a dramatic sigh. “I love you too.” He said again.
#heimdall#gow heimdall#heimdall x reader#heimdall x you#heimdall x y/n#reader insert#god of war heimdall#fanfiction#god of war fanfiction
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i'm counting the days to the rapture
Summary: Benny wakes up in his diner, completely alone. He's in Hawkins, but something is different about it. Not quite Hawkins. He's somewhere else. (Link to Ao3)
Word Count: 516 (this one is mostly just a teaser!)
Warnings: Talks of death, Benny's POV of events from episode 1, nothing serious yet
A/N: Okay! I am biting the bullet and diving into this idea I've had brewing for a few months! Unlike my other stories, this one is not centered on any particular pairing and instead is more about trauma, healing, and grief. The idea is that each (named) character who canonically dies in the show shows up in order, and they all process their lives together. But! This story isn't all somber and melancholy - they start piecing things together as time goes on, and come to find this isn't quite the afterlife. As usual, I will put the first few chapters on Tumblr and the rest will be on my Ao3, so hop on over there if you like what you read!
Benny woke up on the floor of his restaurant with a headache from hell. He clutched the back of his skull, wincing as if there was an injury there, but the skin was smooth.
He sat up and looked around to find the room completely empty. He didn’t know what time it was, or how long he’d been out.
Wait, why am I on the floor? What happened?
He tried to recall the last thing he was conscious of. There was a little girl. He called social services. They showed up. Then, bang.
Wait.
Bang?
That didn’t make sense. Then again, a girl with a shaved head randomly breaking into the kitchen and stealing food was abnormal too. Oh, she had been so scared. He hoped she was okay.
And then he came to the only plausible conclusion - social services knocked him out and took her away.
He was filled with anger and concern. If they’d knocked him out, then those folks weren’t the good guys. He had no idea where the girl was or if she was safe. Maybe he’d led her right back to the people she was running from.
Shit.
Benny stood up and walked to his phone. He dialed the Sheriff’s personal number. Even if it were late, they’d been friends for a while - he would understand. The line seemed to be disconnected, so Benny figured he’d changed his number again or something.
But then he dialed the number to the police station, and that was disconnected too.
So was 911.
He rushed outside to get fresh air, only to find the world much quieter than it had ever been. No hum from Hawkins Lab, no birds singing or crickets chirping. It was nighttime, that much was clear. Otherwise, this hardly resembled the town he knew so well.
He was somewhere else.
It was like a mirrored version of his home, or perhaps a copy. Something that was nearly the same, but just missed the mark. Worst of all, it was terribly empty. He’d never been one to believe in spirits or auras or mystical energies or anything like that, but he immediately understood that there was no one around him. All his years thus far he’d spent feeling life around him, and now there was none. It was an instinctual understanding. An absence that chilled him to the bone.
There wasn’t much that could be done, at least not this night. He walked back inside, checking the freezers and fryers. Fresh food was still there, at least. He decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Benny cooked himself a meal in that empty diner, waiting for something to happen. Time didn’t feel the same here, wherever he was. It wasn’t necessarily unpleasant, just lonely - then again, he’d always liked being alone.
And then, at some point, a teenage girl wandered in - wide-eyed under wire-rimmed glasses.
“Hey,” Benny said, stunned at the company. “Where’d you come from?”
“I just climbed out of an empty pool,” she responded. She took a deep, shaky breath. “I - I’m pretty sure I’m dead.”
(part 2)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Taglist! (kind of guessing on this because it's a gen story so if anyone wants to be removed or added please let me know!)
@skjachukson @manda-panda-monium @twcatelgatitodetwitter @renaissan-vvitch @disastardly @goodolefashionedloverboi @depressed-gays-of-marvel @smolbasilboy @bunnyweasley23 @alliemunsonsstuff
#stranger things#stranger things fanfic#writing#i'm counting the days to the rapture#barb holland#benny stranger things#stranger things au
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Affinity
Niko Ikki x Reader
Quote: “Fall in love with the simplicity of a moment.”
The idea of Gods has always been such a strange concept. It’s the formation of something greater than what you are. It’s a concept that transcends the capabilities of your own thinking yet it holds place in our minds only through our own creations.
Gods are meant to be strong and powerful.
An overwhelming force that transcends all we are and all we believe.
Some believe that there is only a single God who has ruled over us. Others think there is a God for each and every individual task. Some believe Gods watch over us from a great distance while others believe that Gods walk among men.
Niko Ikki (or at least that was what he was called right now) had never considered himself a God, but the description seemed to be the closest thing. It would never be a title he dubbed himself but it was what he was once called in another life.
Gods, by definitions of men, are individuals with the ability to influence the course of society's reality. The creator and ruler of the universe with supreme moral authority over the Universe.
Niko was by no means the ruler and creator of the universe with supreme moral authority, but he did have the ability to influence the course of society greatly. He could one day decide to stop and halt the creation of human life and no one would ever be born. He could one day say enough was enough and no one else would ever be born. A powerful ability that should never be controlled by a single person much less someone like him.
But thus is not the way of the world.
Niko thinks that if anyone should have been given the power then it should have at least been someone like you.
You’re bright and kind. Nice and naive. You have a natural affinity towards humans. You seem to find amusement in the smallest of things and are drawn towards the mundanities of regular human life. You don’t get swept up in the brilliance of adventure and irregularities. You are pure and kind and… well Niko supposes he is happy that you are his counterpart.
Anyone with even a smidget less of kindness would not have made death as painless as you do.
When the light ultimately fades from Niko’s eyes he will feel the soft embrace of death. Even the most painful deaths allow one to rest their weary head at the end.
It is life that brings someone pain.
The birth where someone is ripped from the warmth of their mother and left out in the open to cry and gasp for air they have not yet learned to breathe. They are cast out from the warmth of everything they have known and left in a world of unknowing.
“What are you reading?” You ask, taking a seat beside Niko.
Niko isn’t sure if he’s surprised by your sudden appearance or not. Your appearance is young and youthful. Today, like you always do, you’ve chosen a form around his own current age. Unlike him, you are free to move as you please. You are free to change who you appear as.
You’ve always told Niko that you only appear as what others see you as but he’s never believed it. There’s just always been a flicker of amusement that glimmers in your eyes when you mention it that casts doubt over your statement.
Niko notes that among the hundreds of millions of times he has seen you, your eyes have always remained the same. That familiar and nostalgic soft and warm look. It’s how he always knows when it’s you regardless of how you appear. You, the girl with eyes filled with so much life. It’s actually rather ironic for you to have such lively eyes when you are so very closely associated with death. Some would even say you are death itself incarnated.
Niko finds amusement in the idea of death lurking in a hospital and lounging beside the embodiment of life.
The amusement puts him in a good enough mood to respond to you today as he replies, “a book.”
You smile, “it looks pleasant.”
“It isn’t.”
“Then I suppose the author will just have to try harder next time.” you say.
It’s your book Niko’s holding. Well, at one point it was something you had written. This book in particular has old pages and is written in a way no one this day and age speaks. You’ve written about the story of a young girl who’s constantly forced to relive her life of horror. There are precisely 1101 different versions that you’ve written, each encapsulating a different version of her life. The book in Niko’s hands is his favourite; not that he’d ever admit that to you.
“Take 42” you say, “it was the hardest one for me to write.”
“Really?” Niko asks, “I seem to remember you labouring over Take 452 more. Something about how it's so difficult for you to write characters that are smarter than yourself.”
“Well,” you smile, “it’s the only one I’ve ever written with Marcel as the narrator.”
“I didn’t notice.” He did. “You’ve just written so many of them. I haven’t had time to read them all.” He had.
You lean your head on Niko’s shoulder and close your eyes, “Marcel is the most similar to you.”
Niko ponders on that for a moment. Marcel is naive and optimistic. Marcel dies early on in many of the stories because of another character’s foolishness. Niko is nothing like that. He’s lived many lives and all of which had been ones where he kept others at an arm's length. Pursuit of things outside of relationships has always seemed more appealing.
Niko thinks aloud, “no one would bat an eye at your death if you never did a thing. Your death would mean nothing if you never did anything in life.”
“Is that the conclusion you have come up with as the Giver of Life?” You ask.
“Do you have a different answer, Bringer of Death?”
You nod, “when a baby that has done nothing dies in its mother’s womb the parents will mourn for it.”
“But other individuals will not mourn for the child. They will mourn for the mother because the mother is sad. It is hard to feel anything for someone you have never known. For something you have never understood.”
“But it made a difference in the mother’s life.”
“Can something really have meaning when it only affects a single person?”
“To many, this conversation will be nothing but words upon a page within a story they read. Some will read over it, some will ponder on it for a moment and others for years. But no matter what, even if we are in reality just characters on a page this moment between you and I is real and it matters. It’s real right here and now and it matters to you and I.” You explained, “it’s the moments that mean something to you that matter in death.”
Life is a constant of moving forward and looking ahead.
Regardless of if you want to stop and stay put, life will move.
It waits for none and pushes onwards regardless of everything and anything.
Niko supposes he hadn’t always been this way. There was a time in one of his lives where he was kind and bright. A moment when he loved each and every soul brought into the world and wished for bright things. Life changes people though. It makes you cynical and hard. It becomes repetitive and pointless.
When Niko looks up at you, really looks at you, he’s suddenly at a loss for words.
You’d always been so fickle and flappent to him.
You had always just been there. A constant in his lives. Something he could always count on just being there.
Niko realises that at some point, he stopped seeing you as an actual person. Of course, you have always been a person in his mind but you have been separate from everyone else.
He can’t remember the last time he’s looked at you as he has done before. He knows for certain it's happened before but his memory is hazy. The process of rebirth has never been pleasant on the memory. It often disrupts the flow of things and changes the order in which it actually happens. At first, the memory disruption had bothered Niko but now he finds it almost pleasant. Not everything is meant to be remembered exactly as it happened.
You look quite pretty today.
Niko suppose you’ve always been pretty (in any form you choose to take on) but he thinks you are especially pretty today. Perhaps it has something to do with how tired you are. It’s a pleasant contrast to your usual excited and chipper mood.
It makes you feel real.
It makes you feel human. More human than the people scurrying around the two of you. Niko isn’t really sure how exactly you can be more human than a human but he knows you have made it possible.
The two of you aren’t Gods, but perhaps you could be considered gods amongst men. A little ‘g’ of course because neither of you possess supreme moral authority over the universe. The world would be a much different place if that were the case. Niko thinks that there are many gods amongst men. There are many people who hold power to shape the society and reality as others know it. Perhaps not in the same way as the two of you but through their own methods.
“(Y/n).”
“Hm?” You perk your head up at Niko’s use of your name.
Well, it’s not exactly your name. You don’t actually have a name because there had never been someone there to name you. (Y/n) is the name you have chosen for yourself. Niko thought it was rather… boring and had refused to use it. He had promised both you and himself that its use would be strictly reserved for when you had done something brilliant.
You had looked so determined back then. So different from the curious gaze you give him now.
Niko clears his throat, “why haven’t you ever died?”
“Because I’m immortal.”
“You’re the bringer of death. You can bring death to anyone, so why have you not brought death to yourself? There’s nothing to be afraid of. You know I’d always bring you back.”
“I never feared you wouldn’t. The cycle of balance would be far too thrown off without me there.”
“But don’t you ever find life repetitive? Boring?”
“Is that how you see life?”
Niko can’t bring himself to answer that question. Whether he is afraid of what you will think or his own answer he isn’t sure. Sometimes it’s the parts of ourselves that scare us more than anything else.
“I believe there is no meaning to death if you haven’t lived. Each and every breath you have taken, whether you have lived a boring life or one where you have done nothing, should be treasured. I won’t ever let myself die because I haven’t truly lived. My death would mean nothing and be an insult to everyone that’s died.” You explained, “death is supposed to mean something, afterall. How could I be the bringer of death if I mocked the very thing I represented.”
“Your life has meant something to me.” says Niko.
You smile, “and your death has always meant something to me.”
This is a conversation Niko’s had with you before and it’s likely one he will have with you again. He knows what is quickly approaching and what will happen. Niko’s lived many lives like this before. It’s unfortunate that he never knows exactly when.
Sometimes he’s angry with you. Sometime’s he’s happy.
Sometimes you choose to let him live a long life. Sometimes you choose to end it early.
Niko has lived a relatively long life this time around. Well if you can consider late thirties to be long. He’s enjoyed this life he’s gotten to live and he hopes people will remember what he’s done in this life. Even if it doesn't shake the foundations of reality.
You aren’t the kind of person to just bring death onto someone. You always do it to end some kind of suffering.
Niko hopes his next life will be better than this one. He hopes he will not fall into the same disparity he always does.
“Is it a subconscious thing for you too?” Niko asks, “Is bringing death the same for you as giving life to me?”
“After all this time, you haven’t thought to ask until now?” You tease.
‘Well I had just always assumed it to be that way. But there might be thousands of different versions of you taking away life, as you are now.”
“While I don’t know exactly how it works for you I can tell you that it’s probably the same way for me.”
“Then why are you always here?”
“Because it’s you.”
The first thing to do is always confidence. Fear fills his body with adrenaline as it fights with everything it has to keep him alive. His body scours though each of his countless memories searching for a way to survive despite his mind already knowing that this is the end. Your voice is soft as you sing something familiar.
“You can rest now.” are the last words he hears before everything fades to black.
Niko smiles to himself.
It’s happened like this hundreds of thousands of times before and it will happen just like this hundreds of thousands of times after.
You once asked him why he had never married and chosen to have kids. He only smiled in response.
If only you knew the reason why.
Niko doesn't think he’d ever want to start a family if it isn’t with you. He is certain your relationship would be chaotic. There had been many points in life when he had considered starting a relationship with other people but there had always been a heavy feeling in his heart.
Niko hates simplistic things. He finds them boring and mundane but it’s this simple moment with you that he loves.
Fall in love with the simplicity of a moment.
Bright white light begins anew.
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hello!! congrats on 400 omg u deserve every one of them 🥺 i love your mike concepts so so much, could i request a little dump of sfw and nsfw hcs of mike, literally whatever ur heart desires your ideas slay everytime hehe <3
thank you!!!!!! and of course love💋💋
sfw
- he’s known since the first month that you guys started dating, that he would never want to be with anyone else ever
- like it would completely crush him if you were to break up
- can be a bit possessive out of fear though. constantly keeping tabs on where you’re going, or just going along with you
- that’s also partially because no one ever did that for will and look what happened
- he just doesn’t want you to get hurt, especially if he has the power to prevent it
- can’t do his own laundry
- modern!mike would have for sure tried to eat a tide pod during THAT era
- is a really good person to have around if you experience panic attacks
- he knows all the breathing techniques and will cradle you to his chest once you’ve exhausted yourself
nsfw
- loves to tease you, especially over the sounds you make
- don’t get me wrong, he loves that you’re vocal but that doesn’t stop him from mocking you the entire time
“awww baby can’t handle it”
- very much into degrading, the only time he really praises is when he knows you’ve had a rough couple of days
- likes to call you his little bunny….
- LOVES receiving blowjobs, he likes watching as you stare wide eyed up at him, with spit coating your chin
- when you’re about to cum, he likes to lightly squeeze your throat. that way, you end up clenching around him sooner
- has always wanted to incorporate an ice cube into foreplay, but is too shy to tell you
- he likes the idea of sliding it down your chest, circling your nipples with it, and watching as you arch your back trying to beckon it closer to you
- lives for quickies in the janitors closet
- having to cover your mouth with his large hand as he pounds into you, trying to make the least noise possible
- and when he can hear someone getting a little too close, he stills inside you, while playing with your clit to keep you stimulated
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