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justsomerandomfanfic · 3 days ago

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Beauty And The Beast - Chapter 5 - Loki Odinson X Female Reader

Title: If She Doesn't Eat With Me...

Loki Odinson X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Clint, Natasha, Mrs. Potts, Morgan, and Bucky (Mentioned)

Beauty And The Beast Retelling Fanfic

WC: 1,297

Warnings: Imprisonment, rude Loki, italics, banter, teasing, nicknames, yelling, mentions of going without dinner/food, mentions of death/killing/murder (very brief), slight angst, and fluff?

Meanwhile, Clint and Natasha sat in the dining room with Mrs. Potts and her daughter, Morgan. The atmosphere in the castle was heavy, but Clint attempted to lighten it with some optimism.

“Your Highness, the table is set for you and our guest,” Clint spoke up, trying to maintain a calm tone.

The Beast’s head snapped up, his eyes flashing with confusion. “You’re making her dinner!?” He growled, completely bewildered. His voice echoed throughout the room.

Clint, caught off guard by the Beast’s reaction, scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “Well... We thought you might appreciate the company,” He reasoned, though his words stumbled out under the weight of the Beast’s intense gaze.

The Beast huffed, pacing back and forth. His large frame cast long shadows across the room as his agitation grew. Meanwhile, Natasha, standing by the fireplace with her arms crossed, sighed in frustration. She raised her hands, shaking her head as if trying to distance herself from the entire ordeal. “Your Highness, I just want to assure you...” Natasha began, shooting Clint a glare. “That I had no part in this hopeless plan. Preparing dinner, designing a gown for her, or giving her... A- A suite in the east wing! None of it.” She practically spat out the last part, clearly trying to prove her innocence.

The Beast whipped his head toward her, narrowing his eyes in disbelief. “You gave her a bedroom?” His voice was low, but filled with fire, the anger beneath the surface clear as he loomed over the two of them.

Natasha quickly pointed the finger toward Clint. “No, no, no. He gave her a bedroom.”

Clint raised his hands in surrender. “This is true,” He admitted. Then, attempting to redirect the Beast’s anger, he added, “But if this woman is the one who can break the spell... Then maybe you could start by using dinner to charm her.”

Natasha took a step closer to Clint and rolled her eyes, “Good thinking, Clint.” She couldn’t help but throw in a sarcastic punch to her friend’s shoulder, though her expression softened.

“What?” The Beast growled, baring his teeth slightly as his brow furrowed. “That’s the most ridiculous idea I’ve ever heard,” He scoffed, his sharp claws flexing with irritation.

Clint took a deep breath, his voice becoming more urgent. “But you must try, your Highness. With every passing day... We become less human.” He gestured to Natasha, Mrs. Potts, and even the young Morgan, trying to drive home the importance.

The Beast glared down at the floor, his fists clenching, the weight of the curse heavy on his heart. He shook his head, his voice growing harsh again. “She’s the friend of a common thief. What kind of person do you think that makes her? That thief friend of hers probably killed someone’s parents or something. I don’t know,” He grumbled, his voice thick with disdain.

Mrs. Potts rolled forward on her trolley, gently nudging Morgan behind her. “Oh, you can’t judge people by who their friends are, now can you?” She asserted, giving the Beast a knowing look.

The Beast let out a frustrated sigh, knowing there was truth behind her words, but he was still too agitated to admit it. He muttered something under his breath before turning on his heel and storming out of the room.

~~~

The Beast hesitated at the door to your room, his large paw hovering in the air. He took a deep breath, trying to muster up some semblance of composure. His furry knuckles rapped against the wood, startling you.

“You’ll join me for dinner. This is not a request,” The Beast ordered, his deep voice barely hiding his frustration.

From inside, you glared at the door, anger flaring in your chest. “You’ve taken me as your prisoner and now you want to have dinner with me? Are you insane?” Your voice was sharp.

Clint, listening in from a distance, leaned closer to Natasha and Mrs. Potts, whispering, “Uh-oh. She’s losing it.”

“Oh, dear!” Mrs. Potts whispered, worry lining her face.

The Beast clenched his jaw, his patience fraying. “I told you to join me for dinner,” He repeated, his tone darker, more demanding.

“And I told you ‘no’,” You shot back, turning away from the door and sitting down on the bed, your arms crossing. “I’d starve before I ever eat with you.”

The Beast let out a furious snarl, his body tensing. “Well, be my guest! Go ahead and starve!” He yelled back, spinning on his heel. He stormed past Clint, Natasha, and Mrs. Potts without sparing them a glance. “If she doesn’t eat with me... Then she doesn’t eat at all!” He spat, his voice echoing down the hall as he retreated.

~~~

A few moments later, a gentle tapping came at your door. You sighed, your heart heavy as you grumbled, “I told you to go away.”

The door creaked open, but instead of the Beast, it was a small trolley that entered, carrying Mrs. Potts, Morgan, Clint, and Natasha. “Don’t worry, dear, it’s only Mrs. Potts,” The older woman said with a kind smile. Her porcelain face seemed to gleam in the dim light as the trolley rolled to your bedside. Quickly, you hid the makeshift rope you’d been crafting from the sashes of the gown Madame Wanda made for you, but Mrs. Potts’ sharp eyes caught a glimpse. “Oh!” Mrs. Potts exclaimed softly, her tone compassionate. “Aren’t you a vision! How lovely to make your acquaintance,” She continued, pouring you a cup of tea as if she hadn’t noticed your escape plan. “It’s a very long journey. Let me fix you up before you go,” She added kindly, her warmth radiating through the room.

You hesitated before taking a sip, grateful for the small comfort. “I have found... That most troubles seem less troubling... After a cup of tea,” Mrs. Potts finished, her smile never fading.

Morgan, full of tea herself, waddled over to you. You couldn’t help but smile down at the small cup.

“Slowly now, Morgan,” Mrs. Potts said with a chuckle, trying to keep her daughter in line.

“Pleased to meet you,” Morgan greeted you, nearly spilling the tea in her excitement. “Wanna see me do a trick?”

You nodded, a small smile breaking through your hardened exterior. Morgan puffed up her cheeks and blew some bubbles, giggling with delight.

“Morgan!” Mrs. Potts gently scolded, though her eyes twinkled with affection. The room grew quieter, and Mrs. Potts sighed, her expression softening. “That was a very brave thing you did for your friend, dearie,” she said, pouring you another cup.

“Yeah,” Clint chimed in, folding his arms with a proud look on his face. “We all think so.”

“I’m worried about him,” You confessed, looking down at Morgan in your hands. “He’s never been on his own. Well... He has, but we’re a team. He has Steve, but I’m the brains. When those two get together, madness erupts.” You let out a small laugh, albeit sadly. “I miss him. And I miss Steve.”

Mrs. Potts nodded sympathetically. “Cheer up, my girl. Things will turn out in the end. You’ll feel a lot better... After dinner.”

You grimaced, mimicking the Beast’s harsh tone. “‘If she doesn’t eat with me, then she doesn’t eat at all,’” You mocked, doing air quotes with your fingers.

“Mmm, people say a lot of things in anger,” Mrs. Potts replied with a knowing smile. “It is our choice whether or not to listen.” She and Morgan hopped back onto the small trolley as Mrs. Potts gave you one last encouraging smile. “You coming, my dear?”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, clearly worried. “If the your Highness finds out you violated his orders and fed her, he will blame me!” She said, exasperated.

~~~

@meganlpie @lokixryss @violethaze @johnmurphys-sass @greep215 @giona45-5 @wolfsmom1

Let me know if you would like to be tagged!

~~~

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justsomerandomfanfic · 3 days ago

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The Dirt Road - Joel Miller X Female Reader

Title: The Dirt Road

Joel Miller X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Ellie, Reader's mother (Mentioned), Reader's father (Mentioned), Reader's friends (Mentioned)

WC: 5,703

Warnings: Events set after TLOU, cursing, banter, teasing, could be seen as game Joel or show Joel, mentions of death, mentions of zombies, kind of sad, references, italics, nicknames, crying (very slight), mini angst, and fluff

The road stretched endlessly before you, cracked asphalt swallowed by the creeping embrace of nature, while the rhythmic hum of the truck's tires filled the quiet between you, Joel, and Ellie. She was in the backseat, flipping through a tattered comic book, occasionally muttering the dialogue under her breath. Joel drove in silence, one hand gripping the wheel, the other tapping idly against your thigh. You had your fist pressed into your cheek, your elbow resting on the truck’s door armrest, staring out the window as the trees passed by in a soft green blur. But, your mind was elsewhere. You didn’t know how long you had been driving, but it had been a long time. Just trying to find a safe place to stay for the night.

You met Joel a year before he met Ellie. You had been scavenging in a run-down mall when you bumped into him, and, to make the story short, you had been stuck to his side ever since. What started as a partnership, turned into friendship, and later a romance of sorts. You would call Joel your boyfriend, and he possibly would call you his girlfriend, but in this world - in a world where the dead walked and everyone’s lives were uprooted and messed up - labels didn’t really seem to fit. All you knew was that you loved him, and he loved you, and really, that was all that truly mattered.

And, Ellie? Well, after a year or so of spending time with the kid, you saw her as your kid. Speaking of her…

“Where we going?” Ellie called out from the backseat.

“We’re just looking for a safe place to stay for the night,” You muttered, shaking off your thoughts as your eyes flickered to the rearview mirror. Ellie was slouched in the backseat, her head resting against the worn burgundy leather, the comic book forgotten in her lap.

“Road’s so damn long,” She mumbled, voice heavy with exhaustion. “Haven’t even seen a building since that busted-up Shell station.”

Joel exhaled through his nose, eyes fixed on the road ahead. “Yeah, well, fewer buildin’s means fewer people. Fewer people means less trouble.”

Ellie huffed, shifting in her seat. “Or fewer beds. Fewer hot meals. Fewer showers.”

Joel shook his head. “Didn’t realize we were takin’ a road trip for luxury accommodations.”

Ellie groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “I’d settle for a place that doesn’t smell like old socks and wet dog.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips as you glanced at Joel. “Guess that rules out the truck, huh?”

Joel just grunted, his hand on your thigh tightening slightly in response to you. “You’re welcome to walk.”

“Yeah, lemme just hop out real quick.” She snorted, sarcasm dripping from her tongue, “Maybe I’ll find a five-star hotel right off the next exit.”

“We’ll find somethin’. Just sit tight.” Joel muttered with a small sigh as you placed your hand on his on your thigh, your thumb brushing along his knuckles.

Ellie leaned back with an exaggerated groan, pulling her comic book up to her face. “Yeah, yeah. I’m going to finish this comic. Wake me up when we hit civilization.”

You bit your bottom lip to keep the grin from spreading, moving your fist to cover your mouth. Joel’s dry humor always had a way of sneaking up on you. Shaking your head, you turned back to the window, watching the endless stretch of road roll by. The next thirty minutes passed in near silence, the only sounds were the low rumble of the truck’s engine and the occasional sigh from Ellie as she flipped through her comic. You really wished the radio wasn’t busted. God, what you wouldn’t give to hear a song - any song. You’d even listen to “The Hamster Dance Song.” It had been so long since music filled the air, since something other than the noise of the world ending played in your ears.

Your eyelids grew heavier with each mile, the gentle sway of the truck lulling you into a slow descent into sleep. You fought it at first, but exhaustion won in the end. When you stirred awake, the afternoon sun had shifted, casting warm golden light through the cracked windshield. You blinked groggily, rubbing at the crease on your cheek from where the seatbelt dug into it.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” Joel’s voice pulled you fully back to reality. You turned to him, still drowsy but smiling, and he smirked slightly before nodding toward the backseat. You twisted around to find Ellie slumped against the door, her comic book resting open on her stomach, completely knocked out. “She went out like a light,” Joel murmured, keeping his voice low.

You exhaled softly, turning back toward the window. The scenery had changed slightly - fewer cracked highways, more overgrown patches of grass and trees reclaiming the land.

Then you saw it.

Your gaze flicked past a line of trees before snapping back. A run-down playground sat just beyond the road, rusted swings swaying gently in the breeze, vines twisting around the skeleton of an old slide. Nature had begun to swallow it whole, but the remnants of something familiar still lingered.

A piece of the past, frozen in time.

Your drowsiness vanished in an instant. Your eyes widened as you sat up straighter, staring out the window, suddenly more alert than you had been in hours. Joel noticed. You felt his gaze flick toward you, then back to the road, then back to you again. His eyebrows furrowed, a mix of confusion and concern creasing his face.

“The hell’s got you all worked up?” He started, voice cautious.

“Turn right. Up there,” You cut in, pointing ahead.

Joel’s frown deepened. “What?”

“Just- turn right at the next road,” You insisted, your tone leaving no room for argument.

Joel hesitated, his grip tightening on the wheel. “You mind tellin’ me why?”

“Just do it,” You said, eyes still fixed on the overgrown playground disappearing behind you in the small side mirror.

Joel muttered something under his breath but didn’t argue further. With a reluctant sigh, he flicked on the turn signal - an old habit, even out here in a world where no one was around to care - and steered the truck down the road. You kept your eyes fixed on the windshield, scanning the path ahead, your heart thudding a little harder than before.

“Left,” You instructed suddenly, spotting the upcoming fork in the road.

He turned onto the narrow path, the cracked asphalt giving way to a rougher, less maintained stretch.

Not long after, you spotted it - an old dirt road, barely noticeable through the overgrown grass creeping at its edges. You hesitated for only a second before pointing. “Take that.”

Joel let out a low grumble. “You do realize this thin’ ain't exactly used to off-roadin’, right?”

You ignored his complaint, too focused on the road itself. “It’s still drivable,” You murmured, almost more to yourself than to him. It was surprising, really. After all these years, nature should’ve swallowed it whole, vines twisting through the cracks, tree roots splitting it apart. But somehow, it remained intact, like it had been waiting for you. For this moment.

Joel shot you a glance but didn’t press further. With a slow, measured turn, he guided the truck onto the dirt path, the tires crunching over loose gravel as you pressed yourself against the window, anticipation filling you.

Joel carefully maneuvered the truck down the dirt and pebble path, his eyes sweeping the dense forest lining either side of the road. His grip on the wheel was steady, but you could tell he was on high alert, scanning for any movement between the trees. Walkers could be anywhere, lurking in the underbrush, but - so far - there were none. At least, none that he could see. The further you went, the thicker the air seemed to get, a strange mix of unease and familiarity settling over you. Then, the trees thinned, and the path opened into a large clearing.

It wasn’t well-kept. Grass had grown wild, reaching up past your knees in some places. Nature had begun reclaiming the space, but beneath the overgrowth, remnants of order remained, somehow. The road gradually shifted to cracked concrete, worn by time and weather, leading straight to a large farmhouse. Despite everything - the years, the outbreak, the world falling apart - the house was still standing. Weathered, but intact. Its white paint was almost entirely gone, stripped away by the elements, leaving behind a patchwork of flaked, chipped, and stained wood. A dark oak wrap-around porch stretched along the front, an old bench swing hanging motionless in the still afternoon air.

Beside the house sat a small barn, its faded red siding barely clinging to its original color. This was where the animals had been kept, back when this place was still alive. And next to it, the remains of a small garden, overgrown but still somewhat distinguishable - rows where vegetables and fruit had once been carefully planted and tended. But it was the lake out back that caught your attention most. Even from here, you knew it was there, just beyond the farmhouse, where the trees thinned out again. It had always been peaceful. A place where ducks would gather before migrating for the winter. A place filled with memories.

You swallowed hard, your fingers unconsciously gripping your jeans as the truck rolled to a stop.

Joel shifted in his seat, glancing between you and the house. “Alright,” He said slowly, his voice edged with suspicion. “Mind tellin’ me what exactly we’re doin’ here?”

You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you just stared at the house, your expression unreadable. The past came rushing back all at once, heavy and suffocating, but you forced yourself to breathe through it. Finally, in a quiet voice, you said, “This was my home.”

Joel’s brows lifted slightly, surprise flickering across his face, but before he could respond, you reached for your gun and pushed open the door. Without another word, you hopped out of the truck.

Ellie stirred in the back, groggy from sleep. She blinked a few times, then leaned forward between the seats, watching you with curiosity. “What’s she up to?”

Joel exhaled sharply, already unbuckling his seatbelt. “I don’t know,” He muttered, grabbing his own gun before stepping out. “C’mon.”

Ellie wasted no time scrambling out after him, her boots hitting the ground as she hurried to catch up. By the time they reached you, you were standing at the base of the porch steps, staring up at the house with an expression neither of them had seen on you before - soft, distant, but touched with something bittersweet.

Your fingers traced the edge of the wooden railing, worn smooth by time and weather. “We built this when I was a kid,” You murmured, more to yourself than to them. “Took the whole summer, but my dad wanted a sturdy porch. Said we’d be sittin’ out here every evening, watching the sunset, drinking my mom’s famous iced tea lemonade.” Joel and Ellie exchanged a glance. Neither of them said anything, letting you have the moment as you stood there, caught somewhere between past and present. With a quiet sigh, you pushed your gun into the waistband of your jeans and finally stepped forward, climbing the worn wooden steps. At the door, you hesitated, your fingers hovering over the rusted silver handle. “I knew we were in the state,” You murmured, voice tinged with disbelief. “But I never thought I’d end up anywhere near here again.”

Joel stayed a step behind you, watching carefully, while Ellie fidgeted beside him, glancing between you and the house. Taking a breath, you pushed the door open. It groaned in protest, the sound loud in the heavy silence. Inside, it was still. Dark, save for the slivers of natural light breaking through cracks in the curtains. Dust coated every surface, the air thick with the scent of wood and time. The house had been abandoned for years, but somehow, stepping inside made it feel like no time had passed at all.

And yet, the emptiness was suffocating.

The weight of old sorrow settled on your chest, memories flashing behind your eyes. You had left this place years before the outbreak. You said goodbye to your parents and moved out, going off to college. You visited from time to time, but when the outbreak happened… Well… You tried calling, but no one answered. You knew that it was possible that they escaped, that they were surviving somewhere, but still… That was a fifty-fifty chance. However, your parents were not as young as they used to be… You had feared the worst, and you had done your time of grieving.

The words slipped out before you could stop them, numb and hollow. “Seems no one’s home.”

Joel took point as the two of you carefully moved through the house, clearing each room with methodical precision. You took downstairs and the basement, and Joel took the upstairs and the attic. Ellie stuck close to you, her footsteps light as she scanned the dusty corners and empty hallways. But the deeper you went, the clearer it became - no one had been here. Not walkers. Not survivors. It was odd. Places like this - secluded, intact, untouched - didn’t exist anymore. The world had a way of finding every last hiding spot, whether by the dead or the desperate. And yet, here it stood. Your childhood home, frozen in time. And for once, you were thankful.

When the last room was checked, you made your way to the kitchen, your fingers trailing absentmindedly over the wooden countertops. Without thinking, you reached for the third drawer to the left of the sink - ‘The Button Drawer,’ as your mother used to call it. It was where she kept all the little things that didn’t quite have a place; random buttons, knick-knacks, an old key, and so on.

And below that, was the drawer that you were looking for. Pushing it open, you weren’t surprised to find them still there. Your mother’s special candles. The ones she only brought out when company was coming. Their faded labels still bore the familiar names -’Vanilla Bean,’ ‘Summer Breeze,’ ‘Lavender Mist.’ There were at least a dozen twelve ounces of them. You could almost hear her voice playfully scolding your father for lighting them on an ordinary evening, saying they were meant for guests, not just ‘Thursday Night Spaghetti.’ You swallowed down the lump in your throat, grabbing as many as you could. The lighter was in the same spot it had always been, tucked in the back. One by one, you lit the candles, their soft glow adding to the dim light of the setting sun. The scent of vanilla, fresh linen, and lavender slowly filled the air. It was warm. Comforting. Familiar.

Lighting the last wick, you took in a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut as the memories washed over you. For a moment, if you tried hard enough, you could almost pretend. Pretend you were eighteen again. Pretend you were still standing in this very room, telling your parents goodbye before heading off to college. Pretend that when you opened your eyes, nothing had changed.

You were pulled from the depths of your thoughts, ripped away from old hopes and forgotten dreams, by the sound of the front door creaking open. Your gaze shifted, watching as Joel stepped inside, his arms full with freshly chopped logs. He must’ve found the woodpile beside the barn - right where your father always kept it. Kicking the door closed with his heel, he didn’t say anything, didn’t ask if you were alright, but he didn’t need to. The quiet understanding in his gaze said enough. Instead, he just walked past, setting the logs down beside the fireplace, stacking them.

From the kitchen, Ellie emerged, practically bouncing on her heels. She jabbed her thumb back toward the pantry, her face lighting up with something close to excitement. “Pantry’s completely stocked,” She announced, her voice full of wonder. “Like, full full.”

Joel huffed out a small, barely-there smile at her enthusiasm over the food. It was rare to see something so simple bring joy these days. Then, turning his attention back to you, he stepped closer, resting a warm, steady hand on your shoulder. He leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips - gentle, reassuring. “Go on,” He murmured as he pulled away. “I’ll call ya when dinner’s done.”

You tried to smile at him, silently thanking him for the space to breathe, to take it all in without an audience. Before you turned away, you hesitated just a second, nodding toward the kitchen. “Gas stove,” You reminded him softly. “Matches are in the top shelf, right cupboard.”

Joel gave a small nod of acknowledgment, already making his way toward the kitchen. “C’mon, kid, let’s make dinner.” He called out to Ellie, who followed close behind.

And with that, you turned toward the staircase, letting your fingers trail along the wooden banister as you took the first step up. You took your time climbing the stairs, fingers gliding along the wooden banister - the same one your hand had trailed down the night you left for prom, your dress swishing around your ankles, nerves and excitement buzzing in your chest.

Your gaze flickered to the wall beside you, lined with framed memories, a timeline of a life that once was. There was a picture from your first day of kindergarten, your tiny hand clutching the straps of a too-big backpack, your smile wide and missing a front tooth. Another of you and Persephone, your beloved horse, standing in the old pasture behind the barn. You highly doubted that any of your barnyard animals had survived the many years that you and your parents have been gone. A few baby photos - chubby cheeks, bright eyes.

Then there were the ‘J.C. Penny’ portraits.

You paused in front of one, staring at the happy, carefree grins of you, your mother, and your father. You must’ve been around eleven - front and center, sitting in front of them, your father’s arm draped around your mother’s waist, her hand resting lightly on your shoulder. A perfect, frozen moment of a time when everything was simple.

You sighed, your fingertips grazing the dusty glass, smudging it, before you pulled away, pushing yourself up the rest of the stairs. The hallway greeted you with even more photos. You used to groan every time your mother insisted on snapping pictures of every little thing, especially when you got older - every birthday, every school event, every lazy Sunday morning. “Do we really need another one, Mom?” You used to complain. Now, standing here, surrounded by the proof of all those moments, you wished she had taken more.

You stepped into your parents' room, the door creaking softly on its hinges. Your mind immediately conjured up memories of rushing in here as a child - whether from a nightmare, seeking comfort between them in the middle of the night, or early in the morning when you were too excited to let them sleep in. Their bed had been a fortress, a safe haven, a place where laughter had rung out as you bounced on the mattress, eager to start the day. Now, the bed was still, untouched, the blankets covered in a thin layer of dust.

You didn’t want to rummage through their things, didn’t want to pry into what remained of them. Despite everything, despite the years that had passed, despite the world being what it was now, it still felt wrong - disrespectful. So, you only opened the closet door, eyes scanning the clothes hanging inside. And then you saw it. Your breath hitched as you reached out, fingers brushing the fabric before pulling it carefully from the hanger. Your mother’s sweater. A cable-knitted, faded yellow sweater, worn and soft from years of love. She had worn it often - so often that it had become a part of her, a part of the memories you cherished. You lifted it to your nose, inhaling deeply, and for a moment - just a moment - it still smelled like her. Soft, warm, familiar. Your bottom lip trembled as you bit down on it, just enough to hurt. You lingered for just a moment longer before turning away, swallowing the lump in your throat as you made your way toward your old room.

Stepping into your old bedroom, everything was exactly as you had left it when you packed up for college. Your eyes roamed the walls, taking in the faded posters that still clung to them - ‘U2,’ ‘Britney Spears,’ ‘Green Day,’ and a handful of others, all more worn now, their edges curling and colors slightly dulled. But they were still there. Still yours. Your closet doors stood slightly ajar, revealing clothes you had left behind, ones you hadn’t thought twice about when you were rushing off to your new life. Your dresser, too, was filled with forgotten pieces of your past. The bed still had blankets tossed over it, though dust had settled into the fabrics. Your desk was just as you had left it - random trinkets scattered about - even an old Rubix Cube.

You moved toward your bookshelf, fingers grazing over the spines of books long abandoned. Without thinking, you pulled one free, surprised when recognition hit you. It was one of your favorite copies - worn from being read over and over again, pages dog-eared and creased. You ran a thumb over the cover, swallowing against the emotion creeping up your throat.

Then, you looked up. And there they were. The little glow-in-the-dark stars your father had carefully placed on your ceiling when you were in the first grade, just because you had told him you were still scared of the dark. You had begged him to leave the light on at night, but instead, he had bought a pack of stickers and spent thirty minutes sticking them up one by one, promising that they would keep you safe.

Even now, even after all these years, they still clung to the ceiling - faint, dusty reminders of a childhood that felt like a dream. You let out a shaky breath, pressing the book against your chest, letting yourself take it all in.

Joel called your name, his voice pulling you from the haze of memories. You glanced around your old room one last time before gently placing the book back on the shelf. With a quiet exhale, you turned and made your way downstairs. As you reached the bottom, the scent of Spaghettios filled the air, and your stomach let out a low rumble in response. The warm, familiar smell was oddly comforting. Stepping into the dining room, you found Ellie already sitting at the table, her eyes lighting up as she took in the meal. Joel, standing by the counter, had clearly taken the time to wash the dusty bowls before serving. You slid into your usual seat, fingers running along the aged wood of the table as you looked at Joel. Finding a bit of courage, you managed a small smile.

“I see you found the wood burner.”

Joel gave a nod, scooping some of the canned pasta into a bowl for himself. “Figured it’d come in handy. Got us some hot water to clean up with.”

At the mention of “hot water,” Ellie’s head shot up, her eyes wide with excitement. “Wait… So I can shower?”

With a small nod, you confirmed, “Yeah, honey. You can shower.”

Ellie let out an exaggerated gasp before dramatically clutching her chest. “Oh my god, I might actually cry.”

Joel huffed out an amused chuckle as he sat down across from you, shaking his head at Ellie’s antics. “Guess I was wrong, kid,” He said, scooping another bite of Spaghettios. “We did find a five-star hotel.”

Ellie grinned, dramatically stretching her arms over her head. “Yep. Hot water, a real bed, and a gourmet meal? This place is luxury.”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head as you took another bite. “Think this is gourmet? Wait until I find the ravioli from the one and only Chef Boyardee.” It felt good, even just for a moment, to have something that resembled normal.

~~~

After dinner, you led Ellie upstairs, her excitement barely contained as she followed close behind. Stopping near the bathroom, you opened the pantry and pulled out a clean towel and washcloth, handing them to her.

“Here,” You said, before turning toward your old room. Pushing open the closet fully, you rummaged through the clothes still hanging inside, searching for something that might fit her. After a moment, you pulled out a few pieces of old pajama-like clothes and turned back to her. “These should work,” You said, meeting her back in the hall, handing them over. “I think they’ll fit.”

Ellie took them eagerly, hugging them to her chest. “Man, I might actually die of happiness.”

You smirked, then stepped into the bathroom with her, pointing to the knobs. “Okay, so the handle closest to the wall is the hot one. Just turn it slowly so you don’t burn yourself. I remember it being kind of finicky.” Ellie nodded, listening intently. “And you can toss your dirty clothes in the hamper. I’ll do laundry for us in the morning.”

Ellie’s eyes widened again. “Laundry too? Alright, that’s it - I’m never leaving.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Just enjoy your shower, honey.”

Ellie gave you a thumbs-up before shutting the door, and you headed back downstairs.

The next couple of hours were a blur of quiet movements and the sound of water running, each of you finally feeling clean. You had used the time while Joel showered to fix up your parents' room. You replaced the sheets, blankets, and pillowcases in both your room and your parents' room, making everything as fresh as you could. When you had finished with the beds, you ventured into your father’s closet, pulling out a pair of his pajamas. You hoped they would fit Joel, wanting him to feel as at home as possible - if that was even possible anymore. Finally, you descended the stairs to find Ellie in front of the fire, sitting cross-legged in front of the crackling warmth, wearing a mix of your old pajamas; a worn band shirt and your panda pajama pants. The light from the flames danced across her face as she absentmindedly looked outside the window, the moon was full, however it looked as if it might rain.

Standing at the doorway, you called out softly, “Hey, I got your room all done up.”

Ellie turned her head toward you, a small smile spreading across her face. She stood up slowly, stretching her arms above her head before walking toward you. When you reached your room, Ellie stopped, letting her gaze wander over every inch of the space. She moved toward the bed, sitting down with a soft exhale as she grabbed one of your old plush toys - Mr. Bunny.

“Your room is really cool,” She said as she hugged the plush to her chest. “I wish I had something like this. You know, if the world hadn’t turned to shit.”

You sat down beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder in a comforting gesture. “Well, thank you,” You began, your voice warm and gentle, “I have no doubt that we’ll stay here for some time. I mean, I would like to at least. We’ve got enough food - canned and whatnot - and hot water, to stay here for a good while.” Ellie nodded slowly, brushing her thumb along Mr. Bunny’s ears. “And while we’re here, you can have my room,” You continued, offering her a smile. “I’m more than happy to pass down my things to you.”

“Really? Thank you,” Ellie looked around your room, taking in every detail before her curious gaze landed back on you. “What was it like? You know, before everything went to shit?”

You smiled, but it was bittersweet, the weight of memories pressing against your chest. You shifted slightly, making yourself more comfortable, knowing this wasn’t an easy question to answer - especially since Ellie had no real frame of reference.

“Well… Everything was simpler,” You started, speaking plainly. But even as you said it, you knew that didn’t quite capture it. You pursed your lips, waving your hands in the air as you searched for the right words. “There was structure. Routine. You woke up, went to school or work, came home, watched TV, ate, went to bed, and did it all over again the next day. But it wasn’t bad - it was just… Life. You could go to the store whenever you wanted, get food that wasn’t in a can, and take hot showers every day if you so wanted.” You chuckled softly. “Aside from the government, you’d probably think that was a dream.”

Ellie smirked. “Oh yeah. Hot showers and fresh food? Sounds fake.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “It was real, I swear.” You sighed, your fingers absentmindedly picking at the fabric of your blanket. “And people had things to look forward to. Concerts, birthdays, road trips… Little things that don’t mean much when you have them but feel huge when they’re gone.”

Ellie was quiet for a moment, processing. Then she asked, “Did you ever go on a road trip?”

You smiled softly. “Yeah. A few, actually. My parents and I would pack up the car, and we’d drive for hours, sometimes to visit family, sometimes just to see new places. I used to complain about being stuck in the car, but now I’d give anything to have one more road trip with them.”

Ellie nodded, thoughtful. “Sounds nice.”

“It was,” You agreed. “It really was.”

Ellie was quiet for a moment before she spoke again. “What else did you like to do? Y’know… Before?”

You smiled, thinking back to all the little joys you once had. “Riding my horse. You’ve seen it, we have this big open field near our house, and I used to go there every afternoon after school. It was peaceful - just me, Persephone, and the wind.” You sighed, lost in the memory. “And going to the mall with my friends. We’d spend hours there, just wandering, trying on clothes we couldn’t afford, eating pretzels at a place called ‘Auntie Anne’s’, and talking about the dumbest things, like boys, school drama, or the newest movies.”

Ellie hummed softly, resting her head on your shoulder as you spoke, her cheek meeting the soft fabric of the muted yellow of your mother’s sweater. It was a small gesture, but it made your heart ache. You knew she had never had those kinds of experiences - carefree days filled with nothing but laughter and possibility.

You exhaled, nudging her gently. “Alright, enough questions for one night. You should get some sleep.” You smiled, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face before standing up as she got comfortable, pulling the covers up to her chin. A small, contented sigh escaped her as she settled in. With a soft smile, you turned toward the door. “Goodnight, honey.”

“’Night,” She murmured sleepily.

You lingered for just a second before quietly shutting the door, the warmth of the moment settling deep in your chest. You moved down the hall, your steps heavy with the weight of the day. As you approached your parents' room, you spotted Joel standing by the bed, already in your father’s pajama pants and a random white t-shirt. He was waiting for you. Exhaustion hit you hard, your body feeling like it had been holding everything together just long enough to let you breathe. You rubbed your cheeks, feeling the roughness of the day settling in.

Joel met your tired gaze as you stepped into the room, exhaustion weighing heavy in your bones. Without a word, he crossed the space between you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. You sank into him, pressing your face against his chest, breathing in the faint scent of soap and something unmistakably him. He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. Instead, he pressed a lingering kiss to the top of your head, his grip tightening just slightly - just enough to tell you everything he wasn’t saying. “I’m here. I got you. You’ll be alright.” You closed your eyes, letting yourself believe it.

Joel helped you into bed, tucking the blankets around you gently, his movements soft as he made sure you were comfortable. You curled up into his chest, feeling the familiar warmth of him surround you, his arms wrapping around you with a sense of protection and care. With your legs tangled with his, it had been so long since you all had the luxury of sleeping in a real bed. A contented sigh escaped your lips as you let your muscles relax, sinking deeper into the softness of both Joel and the mattress. His fingers brushed through your still-damp hair, slow and gentle, grounding you in the moment.

"Thank you," You murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel's hand stilled for just a second before resuming its soothing motion. "No," He said quietly, his lips ghosting against your temple. "Thank you. If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t have an actual safe place to stay."

You smiled faintly, your fingers absentmindedly fiddling with the collar of his shirt. “I still can’t believe it,” You admitted, voice hushed. “I never thought I’d see this place again.”

“Yeah,” He finally muttered, his voice rough but soft in the dim light. “‘S funny how things work out sometimes.”

You hummed sleepily, your fingers loosening their grip on his shirt as exhaustion crept in. “I’m really glad you’re here, Joel,” You murmured, your words heavy with drowsiness but filled with warmth.

You felt Joel’s lips press against your hair again, “Me too,” He muttered, his fingers trailing from your hair down to your back, rubbing slow, absentminded circles over the thick comforter. He stayed like that for a while, even as your breathing evened out against him, long after you’d slipped into sleep.

~~~

Main Masterlist | The Last Of Us Masterlist

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justsomerandomfanfic · 3 days ago

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Just Drowning In Chocolate - Willy Wonka X Female Reader

Title: Just Drowning In Chocolate

Willy Wonka X Female Reader

Additional Characters: The Chocolate Cartel (Mentioned), Ms. Scrubbit (Mentioned), Lofty (Mentioned), and the gang (Mentioned)

WC: 2,061

Warnings: Chocolate vat death mentioned, death mentioned, italics, nicknames, slight insecurities, yelling, crying (very slight), slight spoilers to the movie?, Reader can't swim, confessions, mini angst, and fluff

You never thought you'd ever be dragged into this situation. Literally. The chocolate cartel had caught you and Willy, and now you were standing in a giant vat filled with their watered-down chocolate. You held onto Willy’s arm, fingers digging into his shirt as you were slowly pushed further into the room before the large metal door was slammed shut behind you with a resounding clang. The sound echoed ominously, sealing your fate in more ways than one.

This was it. This was how you were going to die.

Your breath hitched, and your fingers trembled against the fabric of Willy’s shirt, the warmth of his body the only thing grounding you.

Going back to the topic of death, you were going to die. And you hadn’t even had the chance to tell him how you felt.

Really, there had been plenty of opportunities, moments where you could have blurted it out or let it come out naturally. But you were a rather nervous person. You didn’t know if he would like you back. You didn’t want to ruin anything. And, of course, you were, well, you. You, the seamstress with the dream of becoming a fashion designer, only for your dreams to shatter when you got caught up in Ms. Scrubbit’s contract. All you had wanted was a room for the night... And instead, you were locked into twenty-eight years of debt and servitude. You thought your future was doomed to be nothing but aching, dull, monotonous hell. But then you met Willy, and your whole life changed in an instant.

The moment he tumbled down that chute, you had been gone for. Those bright eyes, that boundless energy, those untamed curls? You would follow him anywhere - to the ends of the earth, and apparently, to the bottom of a chocolate vat. You had trusted him with every fiber of your being since the moment he thought up the plan to sneak out.

But he was Mr. Willy Wonka, soon-to-be world-famous renowned chocolatier. Why would he ever be interested in you? The doubt gnawed at you, more persistent than ever now. Maybe it was just the stress and thought of dying that made your heart feel heavy, or maybe it was the creeping chocolate lapping at your ankles. Either way, the panic was rising fast.

“Willy!” You yelped, gripping onto him tighter, voice bordering on hysterical. “It’s rising- why is it rising?”

His head snapped toward you, curls bouncing as his hands found your face, cradling it between his palms and forcing you to meet his gaze. “Hey, hey- look at me. Don’t worry. We’re going to be okay.”

Your chest rose and fell in sharp, panicked breaths, but his touch - his warmth - kept you from spiraling completely. Without him, you were sure that you would be running around like a chicken with its head cut off. “Don’t worry?” You repeated, incredulous, your fingers tightening around the sleeves of his shirt. “Willy, there’s no- I can’t-” You tried to move your head, tried to look down at the ever-rising chocolate, but he wouldn’t let you.

“Listen to me, darling.”

Your breath caught at the sudden nickname, Willy’s grip was firm yet gentle, his hazel eyes, usually brimming with excitement and wonder, held something different now - something fierce, determined.

“We’re going to be alright. I’ll find us a way out! Can’t be that hard.”

Your heart fluttered for half a second before the chocolate sloshed higher, now pooling at your shins. Willy turned away from you and rushed to the door, pressing his hands against the cold metal. He pushed, pulled, even kicked at it, but it didn’t budge.

“Willy!” You tried again, voice more urgent as the chocolate lapped at your knees. But he was muttering to himself, hands flitting over the door’s hinges, searching for a weakness, an escape. His curls bounced with every frantic movement. He spun around, taking in every inch of the room, all while you could feel your chest tightening. It was at your thighs now. “Willy!” You practically screamed, and this time, he finally turned back to you.

In an instant, he was at your side, his hands grasping your arms as if anchoring you. “We’re gonna get out of here, don’t you worry.”

Your hands clutched at his sleeves again, knuckles going white. “How? Because I have zero ideas.”

His head whipped up toward the ceiling, eyes scanning, gears turning at a rapid pace. Then- “I got it!”

Your breath hitched in hope. “What? What is it? What’s your idea?”

Willy’s hands flew into his pockets, rummaging for something. “If we’re gonna drown in chocolate, Y/N,” He started, pausing to look at you briefly, “And let’s face it, we’re gonna drown in chocolate-”

Your stomach twisted, frowning, “Willy-”

“-then it’s gonna be Wonka chocolate!” He triumphantly pulled out a small vial of something, sprinkling something in but you quickly grabbed his arm, yanking him toward you.

“Willy, please.” You begged, and he blinked at you, the chocolate now at your waists.

“Right,” He said, shaking his head before glancing upward again. His eyes locked onto something, and he pointed. “There’s light above us! That window! If we let the chocolate lift us, we can bang on the glass - I bet someone’s bound to notice us!”

Your stomach churned violently. It was probably not the best time to tell him, but- “Willy,” Your voice was barely above a whisper, “I can’t swim.”

Willy froze. His wide eyes snapped back to yours, hands gripping your upper arms again. “You can’t swim?” You shook your head frantically, and he inhaled sharply, before nodding, determination settling over his features once more. “Alright. Well. That puts a slight damper on things.”

“No kidding,” You muttered.

“But! Not to worry!” He continued, flashing a grin, even as the chocolate rose to your chests. “You’re gonna hang onto me. Don’t let go.”

Your arms wrapped around him without hesitation, pressing yourself against him as your heart pounded violently. “Willy, I’m scared,” You admitted, voice trembling. You felt the burn of tears pricking at your eyes. “I don’t want to die.” The thought of chocolate filling your lungs was not the not the best thought to have crossed your mind at the very moment.

His arms wound tightly around you, his hold strong, secure. “You’re not going to die.” The chocolate surged higher, and suddenly, you were weightless. Your grip on Willy tightened instinctively as you both began to float. You let out a small, panicked whimper, burying your face in his shoulder. “Do you trust me?” His voice was right by your ear, warm and reassuring.

“With my life,” You said without hesitation.

Willy glanced up. You were so close to the glass now. “Then believe me when I say that I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Your breath hitched as you looked at him. Even now, in the face of death, his eyes gleamed with the same look that had won you over from the start. And despite everything - the rising chocolate, the locked door, the imminent drowning - somehow, you believed him.

With Willy, anything was possible.

Instead of saying anything back, you kissed him.

It was instinctive, fueled by adrenaline, fear, and something far deeper - something you had buried for far too long. Your lips pressed against his in a desperate, fleeting moment, warm and soft despite the chaos surrounding you. The second your mind caught up with your body, realization struck like a bolt of lightning.

Oh my god. You just kissed Willy Wonka.

Mortified, you pulled away as fast as you could, your face burning hotter than molten caramel. Your eyes were wide - his were even wider, cheeks terribly flushed pink. He was staring at you, shocked, surprised, and all other words above. Neither of you spoke. The moment stretched on, thick and heavy. Maybe it was the looming thought of death. Maybe it was the adrenaline, the sheer insanity of everything that had happened in the past few hours. Or maybe - just maybe - it was the overwhelming love you had for him, bubbling over at the worst possible moment.

Whatever it was, you were not expecting that.

And you were definitely not expecting what happened next.

Before you knew it, the little orange man - Lofty, as you would later come to know - appeared as if out of thin air, freeing you and Willy from your soon-to-be chocolate prison. And just like that, it was over.

The chocolate cartel was no more.

And you were so happy to be on solid - not chocolate - ground.

Outside, the townspeople erupted into cheers as Willy sent the cartel soaring into the sky, their screams fading into the clouds. The fountain in the center of the square burst forth with rich, velvety chocolate, bubbling and spilling over. People rushed forward, laughing, dipping their hands or cups in. You stood off to the side on the steps of the cathedral, watching the scene unfold. A small, exhausted smile played on your lips, your hands clasped loosely before you. Willy had done it. Against all odds, against every ridiculous, impossible thing that had come your way today - he had won.

Then, as if feeling your gaze, Willy turned.

His eyes met yours, bright but full of something else you couldn’t quite name. You bit your lip, tasting the remnants of chocolate that clung to your skin. It was going to take forever to clean off of you, but right now, that was the last thing on your mind. Willy moved. He slipped past the celebrating townspeople as they clamored toward the fountain, but his eyes never left yours.

Your heart stuttered, butterflies erupting. You held your breath as he climbed the cathedral steps two at a time, closing the distance between you with quiet determination.

You opened your mouth - to speak, to apologize, to say something - but before a single word could escape, Willy’s hands were on your face, warm even through the sticky layer of chocolate. His fingers pressed gently against your skin, tilting your head up as his mouth captured yours.

It wasn’t just a kiss - it was him, all of him. The impossible, brilliant, maddening man who had turned your life upside down, who had swept you into something far beyond your wildest, purest imagination. His lips moved against yours with an urgency that sent a shiver down your spine, tasting of chocolate and something sweeter, something uniquely Willy.

He made a small, breathless sound against your mouth, chocolate smeared between you both, sticky and sweet, mixing into the heat of the kiss. Willy’s lips moved fluidly, unhurried but precise, as though savoring every second, every touch. His breath came uneven when he finally pulled back just a fraction, both of you breathless; his gaze flickered down to your lips, then back to your eyes. A soft, chocolate-stained smile tugged at the corner of Willy's mouth as he pulled back, his breath uneven.

"I've been wanting to do that for a while," He murmured, "But you beat me to it."

Your heart fluttered, realizing he felt the same. A giggle escaped, and your smile widened. You pulled him in for another kiss, your fingers threading through his hair, tugging him closer. Willy responded eagerly, his hands wrapping around you as you deepened the kiss. When you pulled back, he chased your lips, eyes sparkling with a mix of desire and affection, unwilling to let you go.

When you pulled back, Willy chased your lips, his eyes sparkling with a mix of desire and affection, unwilling to let you go.

"You did it," You whispered, a soft smile spreading across your face.

He shook his head lightly, a warm, loving look in his eyes. "No, darling, we did it."

"We did it," You echoed, your thumbs brushing along his cheeks, trying to wipe away the dried chocolate, but only smearing it further. You chuckled softly. "Getting all this chocolate off is going to take forever, isn't it?"

Willy grinned, his gaze flickering to the mess on both of you. "Well, at least we made some sweet memories along the way."

You groaned playfully, rolling your eyes at his pun. "Willy..." You couldn't help but laugh, shaking your head at him. However, you couldn’t help but agree, lots of sweet memories indeed, and you couldn’t wait to make more.

~~~

Main Masterlist | Miscellaneous Masterlist

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justsomerandomfanfic · 4 days ago

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Author's Update P2 - 3/21/25

I am back from my short break!

I will be back to my usual posting schedule, and later today, I will be posting fanfics for Fanfic Friday! So stay tuned!

For those who are interested, yes, my surgery went well. I will need to take another break in the future, but I will make sure to let you all know before logging off.

Thank you all for your kind words and support!

-Chloe

#fluff #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfic friday #authors note #author's note

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justsomerandomfanfic · 4 days ago

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Big Author's Update - 3/21/25

Hello again, everyone,

I wanted to take a moment to address something that’s been on my mind. Despite my post on 5/25/24, I’ve realized how much I miss writing for the Harry Potter fandom. The stories, the characters, and the world we’ve built together through fanfiction still mean so much to me.

That being said, I want to be very clear: my feelings about J.K. Rowling have not changed. I will forever stand against her harmful words and actions, and nothing about my return to writing in this fandom should be mistaken as support for her. My love for this universe comes from the fans who have reimagined and reclaimed it - not from the person who created it.

So, with that in mind, I will be resuming my Harry Potter fanfiction.

Thank you all for your support.

—Chloe

#cute #fluff #x reader #x you #x y/n #fanfiction #fanfic #harry potter #harry potter fandom #hp #hp fandom #authors update #author's note

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justsomerandomfanfic · 17 days ago

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Author's Note - 3/7/25

I would like to apologize, but I will not be able to post Fanfic Friday today. But I will be getting back to everything, posting, etc., in April! Thank you for understanding!

See you soon!

-Chloe <3

#authors note #author #author's note #author note #fanfic friday #fanfic #x reader #fanfiction

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justsomerandomfanfic · 18 days ago

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Hi Chloe! I hope you're doing well and taking care of yourself after your surgery, you had it didn't you? How are things going for you?

Also: May I please have a romantic male marvel and X men matchups?

Appearance: I'm 26, she/her pronouns, Australian, shoulder length brown hair, brown eyes, 5'8, pale, skinny. Outfits: Casual comfortable, Black clothing/dresses or summer dresses.

Random Info: I can be blunt, honest sometimes too much especially with people I know, I'm very sarcastic with slight sardonic/silly humour. I don't take myself or things too seriously unless needed. Introvert, awkwardly polite when in public, smile at strangers and/or compliment them when I can. When at home I really enjoy my alone time, but I dislike being in a home/place alone for too long since I'm not used to it. I like my personal space, but I love knowing I have someone close by even if we're doing our own things or just quiet together. I still have plushies on my bed n around, also have a big tight-knit family and lots of pets which I love dearly.

Interests: I like video games playing often with friends, listening to music whatever I feel at the time, dancing/exercising daily, I mostly drift to funk/rock music, I enjoy writing/typing things for my friends, reading fiction, fantasy novels, supernatural/horror things intrigue me, crime shows/stories. I like simple things, very sentimental person. If someone gave me a nice rock because it's neat. I'd keep it. and I overthink the little things then don't have enough energy for bigger things.

Sorry, this is a bit all over the place, I hope it's alright! Thank you for reading it, hell if you even just sent gifs of characters in response, I'd be grateful. I wrote matchups years ago on one of my blogs and at first, it's really fun but gosh, it takes a lot out of you especially when putting so many details, it grew to feel like a chore for me in the end. I truly hope that doesn't become the same for you, you're incredibly talented and sweet. Please take breaks, take care of yourself first and foremost! Wishing you the best Chloe! ♡ - Amy

Hello, Amy!

I know I have already said this before, but thank you again!

<33333333

I would love to write you a matchup for Marvel and X-Men!

I'm excited about this, I had a lot of fun :)

<3333333

I really hope you like them!

Enjoy!

<33333333

Romantic Matchups; Marvel and X-Men

~~~

Romantic;

~~~

Marvel;

M'Baku -

You had been working as Everett Ross' assistant for a while - handling his scheduling, keeping him in check, and occasionally dealing with his sarcasm with your own.

When he took that bullet and was brought to Wakanda, you insisted on going with them.

You weren't going to let him go to a hidden, technologically advanced country without backup, (even if that backup was just you making sure he didn't push his luck too far).

You stayed by his side, watching as he was healed.

But then, this Erik had taken over Wakanda.

T'Challa was dead.

The royal family was forced to flee, and the only hope left was in Jabari Land.

You ended up accompanying them to the Jabari mountains, obviously, wrapped in borrowed furs and shivering because - holy hell, it was cold.

When you met M'Baku, with his silent but commanded power and an overall deep presence, you immediately knew he was someone not to be trifled with.

You stood your ground, though, even when he joked and revealed that he and his people were all vegetarian.

Only you could put your boss in his place.

He noticed you then - your sharp tongue, the way you quipped under your breath about Ross and not dying of hypothermia before you could even see the rest of Wakanda.

He liked that you weren't meek, but you also weren't overly bold.

He offered you some actual warm clothing, calling you and Ross bit small and fragile in comparison to his warriors.

(This led to you muttering mostly to yourself that his warriors were used to the cold.)

If he had heard you, he didn't say anything, only smirked.

This whole interaction with you caught his interest.

After Wakanda was saved, you found yourself visiting more often.

You were honored to be allowed back to visit Wakanda.

Sometimes it was as part of Ross' assignments, sometimes just because you wanted to learn more about the Jabari culture.

You and M'Baku developed a banter-filled friendship.

He was loud - sometimes - and had a habit of lightly teasing you.

You, in turn, hit him with sarcasm, blunt honesty, and the occasional deadpan responses.

He liked to call you "tiny assistant" just to hear you groan in frustration.

I mean, the guy is seven feet tall...

You found his presence oddly comforting - yes, he was intimidating, but he was also warm, (despite where he lived), protective, and made you feel at ease in a way you hadn't expected.

You'd sit in the Jabari stronghold, sipping something warm, just existing in each other's presence.

You didn't always need to talk - sometimes, you'd read while he sharpened his weapons or watched the sunset.

He liked that you didn't feel the need to fill silence with unnecessary noise.

He gifted you a hand-carved wooden pendant in the shape of a gorilla.

"To remind you of your strength." He had said.

You kept it on you at all times after that.

Sparring, kind of...

He found your attempts at fighting both impressive and amusing.

He taught you some Jabari techniques, though he always held back.

One time, when visiting, you introduced him to funk and rock music, and in return, he showed you traditional Jabari music.

He loved telling you grand tales, whether about past Jabari warriors or about his life.

He took you to hidden places in the mountains, places few outsiders had ever seen.

It seemed that M'Baku really trusted you...

When you needed quiet, he understood.

When he needed someone who saw him as more than a warrior or a leader, you were there.

The first time he realized he was falling for you was when he caught himself looking for you whenever you weren't around.

You realized you had feelings when the idea of leaving Wakanda - whenever you visited - made your chest ache.

His protectiveness became more obvious.

He would place his hand on your back while guiding you through the mountains, stand slightly in front of you if anyone unfamiliar approached, and offer his personal furs only for you.

You caught him staring more than once.

And when you confronted him, he simply grinned and said, "Can I not admire my favorite tiny warrior."

You, meanwhile, started finding excuses to stay longer.

"Oh, I need to document more about the Wakanda culture."

"You said that there was an important Jabari event happening tomorrow, right? I should stay for that, you know, for documenting purposes."

Sure, that's why you were hanging around M'Baku's throne room for hours.

It wasn't dramatic - you both weren't like that - just a quiet moment between the two of you.

You were sitting on the balcony of the Jabari stronghold, watching the snowfall and sunset.

He said, "You bring warmth to this cold place. I wish for you to stay."

You had turned to him, your heart pounding, "Stay?"

He smirked but then softened, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face, "Yes, stay here, as mine."

You shared a kiss then, in the fading light of the beautiful golden-pink sunset.

He loves to pick you up, it's his thing.

He buries his face into your hair when he hugs you, murmuring things in his language that he promises to someday translate.

He carves little trinkets for you - your favorite animal, a heart, and even having a small dagger made for you.

"So you may stab anyone who bothers you."

If you let him, he'd braid your hair.

His nicknames for you are, 'my heart,' 'little warrior,' and 'my love.'

You would be reading while he rests his head on your lap.

Lots of cuddles, which are amazing since it's so cold in Jabari.

Cooking together, lots of fun salads, vegetables, and fruits!

Sitting by the fire, your feet tanlged together under a thick bed of soft furs.

You stealing his furs, even when you have your own.

Him pulling you against his chest when you begin to overthink things.

He can just tell, by the look on your face.

"Rest, my heart. You do not need to carry the weight of the world alone."

He will protect you, always.

No one would dare cross you with M'Baku at your side.

He would make sure his chambers were just as much yours as they were his, allowing you to move your things in.

He does not truly mind all of your plushies that now share his and your bed.

He loves to make you laugh when you need it the most.

He learns your favorite songs, humming them or mumbling the lyrics as he holds you.

You remind him that he is more than just a warrior or leader - that he is kind, thoughtful, and deeply loved.

You surprise him with small sentimental gifts.

You are the main source of peace when the responsibilities of leadership weigh on him.

You stay by his side, always.

Because you know, without a doubt, that M'Baku was your home.

And you were his.

~~~

X-Men;

Logan Howlett -

You were a relatively new addition to the X-Men team, but you had already proven yourself capable in the field.

Your abilities complemented the team's missions, and Logan had taken notice - mostly because he respected competency more than introductions.

Your first interaction wasn't exactly warm and fuzzy.

But, deep down, he appreciated honesty.

Despite his usual reluctance toward new teammates, Logan found himself intrigued by you.

You didn't try too hard to impress him or force conversation.

You simply existed in his orbit, sarcastic and self-assured, and something about that stuck with him.

Logan wasn't easy to befriend, but you weren't the type to push too hard.

You both fell into a quiet, comfortable understanding - exchanging quips, rolling your eyes at the chaos of the mansion, and finding yourselves on the same wavelength when it came to keeping personal space respected.

He quickly learned that you liked having someone near, even if you were doing your own thing.

It became a pattern - Logan just being there as you read a fantasy book, or you gaming while he watched.

Silence never felt awkward with him.

You both shared a love for sarcasm and dark humor, often snarking back and forth.

Logan would grumble under his breath with a smirk every time you got one over him.

He liked your habit of complimenting strangers - it was so opposite of him, and yet, he admired it.

Even if he teased you lightly about it.

"You tryin' to adopt the whole damn city?"

He noticed how people smiled after your kind words, and it made him feel like maybe there was a little more good in the world.

You both enjoyed late-night talks - sometimes sprawled on the couch, exchanging quiet thoughts about your pasts, interests, regrets, and hobbies.

Logan was old and had seen so much, but he liked hearing your thoughts, your way of looking at things.

You were an X-Men, which meant you had to train, and Logan was both your biggest challenge and your most grudgingly supportive mentor.

He was tough on you, but only because he knew you could handle it.

And, flirting? Lots of flirting when you tried to pin each other onto the mat.

You got Logan to listen to some of your favorite songs.

He didn't admit he liked them outright, but you caught him tapping his fingers to the beat when he thought you were looking.

He really does like your music.

Logan liked the open road, and sometimes, when things at the mansion got a bit too loud, he'd just nod towards Scott's bike.

No words - just an invitation.

You'd hop on, and the two of you would ride out for miles, stopping at some no-name diner to split a meal and milkshake.

Logan was ferociously protective of you, but it wasn't just one-sided.

If he got hurt, yeah, he would heal up pretty fast, but still, it scared and worried you.

"Just because you can heal really fast doesn't mean it doesn't hurt."

You didn't even realize when it started happening.

One day, it just felt different - how he stood a little closer, how he noticed when you were feeling dow and actually asked about it, how your sarcastic banter became more... Affectionate.

Logan caught himself watching you more - your little habits, the way your eyes lit up when you found a particularly cool thing.

He noticed how he felt calmer when you were around, which was something he wasn't used to.

Your presence became something he craved, even when he wouldn't admit it.

One night, after a close call on a mission, Logan found himself gripping your wrist, gently but desperately, his voice rough as he said, "Don't dace me like that again, alrigh'?"

The way he looked at you - really looked at you - made your heart flip.

It wasn’t planned, not in the slightest.

Logan wasn’t the kind of man to sit and think about confessing - he just felt it, and before he could stop himself, the words tumbled out.

It happened during one of your late-night talks.

You were both sitting on the mansion roof, staring at the stars, when he finally muttered, “I don’t like bein’ alone either, y’know.”

You turned to him, confused, and that’s when he finally sighed, raking a hand through his hair before looking at you with those stormy, intense eyes.

He exhaled sharply, then - gruffly, almost annoyed - said, “I think I’m in love with ya.”

Simple, quiet love.

Logan wasn’t a grand gestures kind of guy, but his love was solid, unwavering.

It was in the way he always made sure you had a cup of coffee before you even asked, or how he’d wordlessly drape his jacket over your shoulders when you looked cold.

He adored your sarcasm.

It kept him on his toes, and he loved throwing it right back at you.

He was affectionate, but in subtle ways - hand resting on your knee absentmindedly, fingers brushing against yours as you walked, an arm slung around your shoulder in casual possessiveness.

The first time he saw you in one of your summer dresses, he stared.

Just stared.

And when you noticed and raised an eyebrow, he just huffed, “Ya’look real nice, alrigh'? Shut up.”

He got used to your plushies, even going so far as to move them carefully when he climbed into bed.

Yep, your plushies began to migrate to his bed.

One time, you caught him talking to one absentmindedly.

Slow dancing in the kitchen.

Even though he claimed he wasn’t the dancing type, one night, when your favorite song played, he surprised you by pulling you into a slow, swaying dance.

“Don’t get used to this,” He muttered.

But you absolutely did.

Bringing each other little things.

You found an old coin that reminded you of him?

You gave it to him.

He saw a true crime keychain that reminded him of you?

He tossed it onto your bed for you to find.

Reading together.

You, curled up with a book, Logan beside you, sometimes reading over your shoulder.

He’d grumble about the plot holes sometimes.

Always be your protector.

He’d put himself in danger without a second thought if it meant keeping you safe.

Help you manage your overthinking.

If he caught you spiraling, he’d ground you - gruff but gentle.

“C’mon, darlin’, it ain’t worth all that stress.”

Never let you feel alone.

If you ever started feeling too isolated, he’d just be there, no words needed.

Remind him that he’s more than his past.

You saw the man, not the weapon, and you made sure he knew that.

Give him peace.

He’d spent so long fighting - just existing beside you, quietly, peacefully, was everything he never knew he needed.

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justsomerandomfanfic · 22 days ago

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Quick Author's Note - Important - 3/2/25

Hey everyone!

I just wanted to let you all know that I’ll be taking the rest of the month off from posting starting tomorrow as I have surgery coming up that I need to prepare for. I’m really looking forward to getting back to everything as soon as I’m feeling better!

I will do my best to post this Friday’s Fanfics, but I can’t guarantee it, so please bear with me. Your support means so much, and I truly appreciate your understanding during this time. Can’t wait to be back and share more with you all soon!

Take care and stay safe!

P.S. All fanfic and matchup requests will stay open, so feel free to send them in! That way, I’ll have a fun plethora of stuff to jump into when I’m back!

-Chloe <3

#cute #fluff #x reader #x you #x y/n #fanfiction #fanfic #x female reader #headcanons #matchups #matchup #matchups are open #fanfics are open #author's note #authors note

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justsomerandomfanfic · 22 days ago

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Hallo! How are you?? I have a request for M'baku if you accept.. We know that this man is in an important position. It must be important for his lineage to continue. He and the reader have been together for a while and one day the subject of having children comes up, but she is a former black widow. She cannot have children because of sterilization and decides to tell M'baku about it. It may end with fluff or angst, doesn't matter to me 🤍

Hello! I'm doing well, thank you for reaching out!

I really appreciate your request and the thought you put into it. However, with the sensitive nature of the topic and the trauma that can come with it, I want to be mindful and respectful. Since I don’t have personal experience with this subject, I worry that I wouldn’t be able to give the story the depth and care it deserves.

That being said, I would love to write something for M’Baku if you have another idea in mind! Feel free to send in any other requests, and I’d be happy to work on them.

#x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #request #requested #anon request #black widow #m'baku #m'baku x reader #marvel

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justsomerandomfanfic · 23 days ago

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Matchups Are Open!

My matchups are open once more! Send them in if you are interested, just make sure you read my rules!

Rules are at the bottom of my Masterlist, which is pinned to my blog.

But, the link to my Request Rules is right HERE!

Have fun!

#cute #fluff #x reader #x y/n #x you #request #headcanons #headcanon #matchup #matchups #matchups are open

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justsomerandomfanfic · 24 days ago

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hi !! (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ could i request romantic and platonic (if that's too much, just romantic) matchups for dc, my hero academia and either obey me/marvel/stranger things (i don't mind which one out of those 3 😿 you can choose 😿 im indecisive 😿)

she/they, 19, bisexual (no pref), intp-t 4w5, ambivert ......................... idk what do u even put for personality ?? ヽ(ˇヘˇ)ノthey gave me high neuroticism and openness on the ocean test 🧑‍🦲👍

5'4, my hair's long, i can't tell if its wavy or curly, i think wavy 🧍‍♀️ dark brown with purple highlights + bangs and my eyes are dark brown, i have a couple piercings and tattoos, idk my style - maybe its grunge, maybe its emo, maybe its y2k, maybe its twee, it depends on the day xoxox

i love PURPLE and SCIENCE!!! especially space and plants and animals and archaeology and psychology and i love to CONSUME MEDIA lots and lots of it ..... especially horror and fantasy, cinema, games, music, reading (and writing) and a bit of art, scrapbooking, crafts, making random stuff like pottery, candles, soap, tea, jewellery, whatever, i garden and bake and cook a little (also.. mixology... not just cocktails though literally anything like hot chocolate or coffee idk if there's a name for it 🧚‍♀️) + i like decorating, travelling, fashion, architecture, history, mythology🧍‍♀️💌 i collect everything - i have trinkets and crystals and random rocks and merch and plushies etc for miLES

idk this is word vomit ty in advance if u read 💜 i love that you write for so many fandoms on one blog especially loads that im in 💗💝💘💖💓💞💕😞

Hi!

I just have to say, your information was perfect!

I love that you gave a bunch of your favorite hobbies, I take hobbies into account the most out of all information, personality being second.

Also I love all the little emojis ヽ(✿ﾟ▽ﾟ)ノ

So fun!

Anyway, I would love to write you both platonic and romantic matchups for DC, MHA, and any of those three you listed.

I didn't say what I chose, it's a surprise!

<3333333

Anyway, I hope you like your matches!

Enjoy!

<3333333

Romantic and Platonic Matchups; DC, My Hero Academia, and...

~~~

Romantic;

~~~

DC;

Jessica Cruz -

You were brought onto the Watchtower as part of a research and analysis team, specifically focused on alien flora and fauna.

Your knowledge of science, archaeology, and mythology made you invaluable when dealing with ancient alien artifacts and unknown life forms.

The first time you met Jessica, it was during a Justice League briefing.

You were standing in the back, taking notes and observing, when she caught sight of your purple highlights and immediately thought 'cool hair.'

Later, you were examining a strange alien plant specimen in one of the labs when Jessica walked in, curious about what you were doing.

She was fascinated by how passionate you were about your work.

You explained how the plant responded to different energy wavelengths, and she was so genuinely intrigued that she stayed to help you study it.

You made a joke about how "at least this plant isn’t trying to eat me today," and she chuckled, admitting she also had a rough history with plants trying to kill her.

That was the first of many moments where your humor eased her anxiety.

You and Jessica hit it off fast, bonding over your shared love of science fiction, horror movies, and books.

The two of you would swap recommendations and spend time in the Watchtower lounge debating which space horror movie is the most scientifically inaccurate.

Jessica appreciates how understanding and non-judgmental you are.

She sometimes struggles with social anxiety, and you always make her feel comfortable.

When she starts overthinking or doubting herself, you remind her of how much she’s accomplished and how strong she really is.

She helps you with your craft projects, even if she isn’t always good at them.

When you teach her how to make candles or pottery, she absolutely loves it.

Her first candle was a disaster, but she kept it anyway because it reminded her of you.

Sometimes, when she has trouble sleeping, she’ll text you, and you’ll talk for hours - about everything and nothing - until she feels relaxed enough to rest.

You both love exploring, so when missions take you to alien planets, she always volunteers to go with you.

You geek out over the flora, fauna, and ruins, and she loves seeing you in your element.

You drag Jessica to the observation deck, pointing out constellations and telling her about mythology and space facts.

She listens, mesmerized, and sometimes she uses her ring to project glowing constellations just to make you smile.

You introduce her to your favorite horror movies, and she introduces you to the best superhero cartoons from her childhood.

You tease each other when one of you gets scared, but she definitely hides behind you during psychological horror.

Whenever you visit alien planets, she helps you find cool rocks, artifacts, and little souvenirs.

She once risked a battle just to grab you a weirdly shaped glowing crystal because she knew you’d love it.

You create custom drinks for her (non-alcoholic too, if she wants).

She loves that you always match the drink to her mood.

You’re not a fighter, but Jessica insists on helping you learn basic self-defense.

It starts as sparring but always ends in laughter when she accidentally trips over you or gets distracted mid-fight.

Jessica starts noticing little things about you - how your eyes light up when you talk about your passions, the way you absentmindedly play with your bracelets and rings when you're thinking, how your purple highlights glow under the right lighting.

She realizes she’s in deep when she catches herself staring while you’re laughing at something.

Her heart does this weird, fluttery thing, and she has to look away before she gets caught.

Meanwhile, you start feeling a pull toward her - the way she always checks in on you, the little smiles she reserves just for you, how her presence makes you feel safe and warm.

When you both start making excuses to spend more time together, it’s obvious to everyone except you two.

Even Batman notices and makes an offhand comment that sends Jessica into panic mode.

You almost confess once during a particularly breathtaking space mission - the stars reflecting in her eyes, the weightlessness making it feel like time didn’t exist.

But you chicken out at the last second.

The confession happens unexpectedly during a high-stakes mission gone wrong.

You get separated, and when Jessica finally finds you - injured but alive - she doesn’t even think before crushing you into a hug, whispering, "I can’t lose you."

When you’re safe, she awkwardly stammers through a confession, talking too fast and blushing like crazy, admitting that she adores you, your mind, your passion, the way you make her feel brave.

You cut her off with a kiss, soft and slow, and she melts into it, the weight of her fears disappearing in your warmth.

She laughs after, relieved, and mutters, "Took us long enough, huh?"

You leave little notes for her - encouraging words when she’s feeling anxious, love notes when you just want to be cute.

She flies you to the most beautiful places in the universe because "Earth just doesn’t have enough purple for you."

Forehead kisses, hand-holding, cuddling after long missions - she’s touch-starved and loves the warmth of your presence.

You wake up before her, and she clings to you like a koala until you bribe her with coffee.

She steals your hoodies.

You steal hers.

When she’s too anxious to go outside, you bring the world to her - setting up a movie night, cooking together, or just being there.

Remember all the little things - your favorite tea, how you like your blankets, the exact way you laugh when you’re really happy.

Help her through her fears and doubts, reminding her that she is enough.

Plan the cutest dates, from stargazing on rooftops to exploring abandoned bookstores.

Stay up late talking with her when she’s having a bad night, letting her fall asleep to your voice.

Jessica never thought she’d feel this safe and loved, but with you, it’s effortless.

And for you, she’s the kind of love that makes life feel like an adventure.

You are her anchor.

She is your star.

Together, you’re infinite.

~~~

My Hero Academia;

Kaoruko Awata (Bubble Girl) -

You first met Kaoruko during a rather unexpected moment - both of you were at the same event as kids.

You had spent summers together, playing in a local park, but life had separated you when she enrolled at U.A. and you moved to pursue your own passions.

Years passed, and you lost touch, only to reconnect years later as pro-heroes.

Her passion for helping others aligned with your own, and it was like picking up where you left off.

After all, the bond you shared as kids hadn’t faded.

She had always been the more energetic, social one while you were more on the quiet side, but the chemistry between you two had always been undeniable.

You saw Kaoruko’s bright eyes spark with recognition, and the second your paths crossed on a mission, everything clicked.

Your friendship with Kaoruko is rooted in both history and admiration.

She’s the kind of person who draws people in, and her boundless optimism and sense of adventure keep you on your toes.

You and Kaoruko make a great team, especially on missions - while her power is more suited to up-close fighting, you tend to strategize, guiding her from a distance.

She always insists on doing the most ridiculous (and often dangerous) things on missions, but you’re always there to support her in whatever crazy endeavor she decides to dive into.

There's an undeniable connection, one where you can just be yourselves.

She adores how unique you are, how you embrace your hobbies, and she finds your quirks endearing, even when you doubt yourself.

You and Kaoruko spend a lot of time together outside of missions.

You love watching horror films and discussing their finer details - the suspense, the plots, the thrill of it all.

She’ll often drag you to the theater, where you both critique the latest flicks.

Even when you’re too tired, she’ll insist on playing video games with you, even if she’s the one who ends up raging over the controller while you offer advice.

You two also bond over your shared interest in crafts - whether it’s pottery, making candles, or even decorating your respective homes with little trinkets, you always find new ways to unleash creativity together.

She’s there to support you in your work too, whether it's reading your writing or sharing her thoughts on your latest pottery project.

The friendship has always been about growth, and that’s something Kaoruko wholeheartedly encourages.

Over time, those childhood feelings that were once fleeting started to blossom into something more intense.

It’s subtle at first - her playful teasing laced with a touch more softness, her compliments more genuine, a lingering look that lasts longer than before.

She starts to notice how when she’s around, you’re more confident.

You make her feel at ease with your quiet presence, the way you let her talk endlessly without judgment.

Your easy silence becomes a safe space for her.

When she notices you smiling at her in a new way, she realizes something’s changed between you two, and it makes her heart flutter more than she cares to admit.

You, on the other hand, start to notice the little things.

The way she brushes her fingers against yours when you’re both walking together, or the way she’ll just stare at you sometimes, like she’s trying to read you in a way that feels deeply personal.

Her voice, when she calls your name, seems to hold more weight now, and you catch yourself blushing when she shows you more affection.

It's subtle - just the extra touches, the deeper looks - but it’s impossible to ignore.

The confession comes after a particularly intense mission.

You’re both shaken and tired, walking home in the quiet night.

Kaoruko is still bubbling with excitement, babbling about everything, but then she looks at you - really looks at you - and the energy changes.

She’s been holding her feelings in, not sure if you feel the same.

But tonight, she can’t keep it in any longer.

“I... I know we’ve been friends for a long time,” She starts, her usual confidence slightly wavering, “But... I think I might feel something more for you. It’s been hard to ignore, honestly. I—I like you. More than just a friend. I hope that doesn’t make things weird between us…”

You stop in your tracks, and everything feels slow.

Your heart races in your chest, and before you can even respond, she’s rambling again, apologizing, saying she shouldn’t have said anything, but you grab her wrist gently and pull her back to you.

“Kaoruko,” You say softly, “I like you too. I’ve liked you for a while now.”

You both laugh, the tension easing, and she pulls you into a hug, her face burying into your shoulder.

“I knew it!” She grins, holding you a little tighter, and you can feel her pulse quicken with excitement.

You both stand there for a while, just holding each other in the quiet of the night, knowing that things have changed for the better.

Once you start dating, everything feels even more natural.

You still spend time together doing all the things you love, but now there's this extra layer - those playful touches, the stolen kisses, the shared glances.

Kaoruko makes sure to show her affection in small, cute ways, like brushing her fingers through your hair or calling you the most adorable nicknames, especially “cutie.”

She’ll randomly text you cute, silly messages just to see you smile.

On lazy weekends, you two stay in bed together, binge-watching movies and making your favorite comfort foods.

You love making things for each other, whether it’s a new piece of jewelry or a pot of tea that you can sip while chatting about life.

Kaoruko loves surprising you with little tokens of affection - sometimes she’ll leave you small notes, tucked in your jacket or your bag, that remind you of how much she cares.

She loves it when you teach her how to make new things, and she’ll make sure to remember every little detail, even if she doesn’t get it perfect.

On her end, she’ll bring you flowers she picked, making sure they match your favorite color, purple, and she loves giving you random but sweet gifts.

You, in return, love making her things - handcrafted jewelry or little trinkets, as well as making her favorite drinks.

You also make sure to listen to her when she talks about her day, and you always find time to do something thoughtful, like organizing her growing collection of trinkets.

For Kaoruko, you would go to the ends of the earth to make her feel loved.

You’d stand by her during the toughest of times, help her prepare for missions, and even just sit with her when she’s stressed out.

You’d be the one to remind her of the small victories, especially when she feels like she’s failing.

Her happiness means the world to you, and you’ll do whatever it takes to keep her smiling.

Kaoruko would always make sure you feel loved and appreciated, even when you’re at your most doubtful.

She’ll remind you of your worth in the most unexpected, sweet ways, like with a random hug or a simple compliment that makes your heart race.

She would be your rock when you feel overwhelmed, always ready to pull you out of your shell and encourage your creativity, whether it’s with your writing, your pottery, or even your love of all things space-related.

Together, you two make the perfect team - stronger because of each other.

~~~

Obey Me;

Belphegor (Sloth) -

You first met Belphegor on one of those quiet, rainy afternoons that seem to make the library feel extra cozy and filled with mystery.

You had wandered into the vast library of Devildom Academy, looking for a peaceful place to study and distract yourself from the chaos of being an exchange student.

Of course, the moment you stepped in, you couldn’t help but be in awe of how much knowledge and beauty surrounded you.

That’s when you noticed him - Belphegor, with his usual relaxed, almost lazy aura, curled up on one of the plush chairs near the back.

He was already aware of you, having noticed the way you moved around the library with a mix of fascination and confusion - a new student, but one who clearly enjoyed learning.

He’d always found a strange sense of curiosity when it came to people like you: those who loved space, history, and anything that challenged their mind.

And that’s how your first conversation started - not with words, but with a shared glance over a worn book cover.

“New here?” He had asked, his voice barely above a whisper but with that lazy smirk he was known for.

Your friendship began with a casual bond over books.

Belphegor would often be found sprawled across the library’s couches while you hunted down something obscure for your own research or personal interests.

Initially, you thought he was just another lazy demon with too much time on his hands, but you soon realized he was far sharper than he let on.

He’d drop little sarcastic comments about the other demons in school, always with a subtle laugh that made you want to roll your eyes at him.

The two of you formed an odd sort of intellectual connection, constantly bouncing ideas off each other, challenging each other's opinions about history, space, and psychology.

On lazy afternoons, you'd bring over your latest projects - whether it be your latest pottery or a jar full of crystals you'd found on one of your many trips around Devildom.

Belphegor would pretend to not care, but you’d catch him eyeing your creations every now and then.

Sometimes, he’d even comment about how your “obsession with rocks” was oddly charming.

It started as a small thing - the way Belphegor’s lazy smiles became more meaningful whenever he noticed something you’d done just for him.

You’d leave him a handmade gift, like a bracelet made from a string of purple crystals, and he’d turn his nose up at it with his typical nonchalance.

But then he’d wear it, even though he never admitted he liked it.

He’d also start to drop little hints about his feelings for you, his lazy smirks turning into genuine, more affectionate grins.

You noticed the way his arms would brush against yours when you two passed each other in the library or during class, or how he'd always find some excuse to sit near you, even if he didn’t need to.

As for you, you started to look forward to those moments - the gentle, subtle interactions that weren’t quite friendship anymore.

You found yourself remembering the way his eyes sparkled when he caught you staring at the stars outside, and how he seemed to understand your deep love for space without needing to be told.

You felt at ease with him, as if he was the one person in the world who understood the complexity of your thoughts without being judgmental.

It came during one of your late-night study sessions at the library.

You were working on a craft project, your hands covered in clay, when Belphegor, of all people, walked in with a half-full cup of your favorite tea in hand.

He set it beside you without saying anything, just as the rain outside began to fall harder.

"I brought this for you. You looked like you needed it," He muttered, a small, almost unnoticeable blush creeping onto his cheeks.

You glanced up at him, the space between you suddenly feeling charged.

There was a long silence before he spoke again, his voice quieter than usual.

“I… I’ve been thinking. About you. And I don’t just mean the books you bring in or the rocks you keep showing me,” He continued, his usual smirk faltering slightly, "I mean... About you, you."

Your heart skipped a beat.

He looked serious for once, his usual lazy demeanor completely absent.

“I like you,” He said simply, his eyes softer than you’d ever seen. “I don’t know what it is, but it’s more than just... Being around you.”

You felt your cheeks flush, not knowing how to respond at first, but then you smiled softly. “I like you too, Belphie."

From that moment on, everything changed - but it wasn’t a huge, dramatic change.

Instead, it was something small, subtle, and comfortable.

Your relationship blossomed in the quietest, most intimate way.

Belphegor would sneak glances at you when you weren’t looking, or he'd send you cute texts in the middle of the day, just saying things like “thinking about you” or “stop looking so cute.”

When he was in a particularly lazy mood, he’d pull you into his arms, insisting that "no one else" could understand how comfy his blankets were.

And when you’d grumble, trying to get up, he’d simply pull you closer with a sleepy grin.

For dates, Belphegor was content with something quiet.

You two would often visit Devildom’s little cafes and sit by the window, talking about the stars, mythology, or the latest horror films.

He’d always insist on paying for your tea or your snacks, even though you’d try to protest.

He wasn’t one to be flashy, but every once in a while, he’d surprise you with a thoughtful gift – a small pendant or a crystal from a hidden cave he discovered, just because he knew you’d appreciate it.

On weekends, you two would binge-watch movies or shows you both loved, alternating between genres.

You’d laugh over the absurdity of some horror tropes, or spend hours analyzing fantasy plots.

Sometimes, you'd fall asleep on the couch with his arm around your shoulder.

Belphegor wasn’t much of a cook, but he’d often try to make you simple meals like pasta or grilled cheese, with a smile when he’d finally get it right.

In return, you’d make your signature desserts – cakes, cookies, or whatever you'd been baking recently – and he’d act like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted, even if it was just a bit burnt.

When he saw you working late into the night on a project, he’d silently sneak up beside you and make sure you had everything you needed – like extra snacks or tea.

He wasn’t one for big gestures, but he’d always find small ways to show he cared.

Belphegor’s favorite thing to do was to curl up with you on a lazy morning, wrapped in blankets, listening to your rambling about some new scientific theory or the latest archaeological discovery.

He’d let you talk for hours, even if he didn’t understand half of it - because seeing you so passionate made him feel strangely proud.

Belphegor would do whatever it took to make you smile, even if it meant stepping out of his comfort zone.

He’d fetch you your favorite books, try to make your drinks just right, or sneak in a thoughtful little note when you weren’t looking.

If someone hurt you, he wouldn’t hesitate to step in and protect you, though he’d likely do it with a sarcastic comment to lighten the mood.

However, his fierce loyalty would be clear.

You’d be there for him when he was feeling down, offering support without judgment.

You’d do your best to understand him, even when he pushed you away with his usual tired demeanor.

You’d also find ways to surprise him with little things - like making his favorite tea or putting a new book on his desk just because you knew he’d like it.

You’d show him that he didn’t have to be the aloof, lazy demon all the time - that he could let his guard down with you.

And through it all, your relationship with Belphegor would be built on deep respect, subtle gestures of affection, and quiet, comfortable moments that you’d both cherish forever.

It wasn’t flashy or over-the-top, but it was perfect in its simplicity.

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justsomerandomfanfic · 24 days ago

Note

Hi, I’d like to request a match up with Gotham. I’m nonbinary and bisexual, so I don’t really care about which gender. I’m short, with curly brown hair and slightly pudgy. I also have glasses that I’m basically blind without.

I really like fanfiction and listening to music. I hate when things are completely quiet but I also hate loud crowded environments. My hobbies are reading fanfiction, writing, coloring and playing word games.

Hello!

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(Don't worry, I saw your additional information.)

I haven't done a Gotham match in a while, so thank you for requesting it!

I'm pretty excited!

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I really hope you like it!

And I hope I didn't ramble too much!

I'm excited ♪(´▽｀)

Enjoy!

<333333

Romantic Matchup; Gotham

~~~

Romantic;

~~~

Gotham;

Harvey Dent (Two-Face) -

I know that Harvey doesn't turn into Two-Face because Bruce is still a child in the series, but I really love Two-Face, so all the Two-Face scenes here are what I believe he would be like in the show.

You met Harvey when you were hired as his assistant during his time as Gotham's District Attorney.

You weren't just any assistant - you were sharp, observant, and able to keep up with his fast-paced work ethic and high expectations.

He noticed you right away - not just because you were good at your job, but because you had a quiet intensity about you.

You were efficient, didn't take nonsense from anyone, and had a subtle rebellious streak that intrigued him.

Despite his charm and confidence, Harvey always appreciated competence over flattery, and you provided that in spades.

If anything, you were the one person in the office who never seemed intimidated by his authority.

Your dynamic was built on witty banter and a surprising level of trust.

Harvey had a tendency to push people away when things got stressful, but you?

You never let him.

You were one of the few who could get him to take a break when he got too deep into a case, usually bribing him with coffee and a well-placed sarcastic comment.

He appreciated that you weren't afraid to challenge him when necessary.

If he got too focused on the law and politics, you were there to remind him of the gray areas.

The two of you often spent late nights in his office, you reviewing documents while he worked on cases, soft music playing in the background because you hated complete silence.

Before his accident, you were his anchor - the one who reminded him why he fought so hard for justice in Gotham.

He respected you more than most because you weren't blinded by idealism, but you still stayed.

He found it amusing how competitive you got over crossword puzzles and word scrambles.

At some point, it became a routine - whoever lost had to buy coffee.

(He lost more than he cared to admit.)

Since you hated silence but also didn't like overwhelming noise, you two had an unofficial game of choosing the best playlist for different moods.

Harvey leaned toward classic rock and jazz; you had a mix of moody, dark, and intense tracks.

He got in the habit of asking for your opinion on cases, even when he didn't need to.

He liked the way your mind worked, and how you could see the different angles he missed/

As his assistant, you often accompanied him to events.

You both made a striking pair - him in his sharp suits, you in your dark sparkly outfits.

Many suspected that you both were a couple, but neither of you listened to the rumors.

When work got too intense, you'd pull out a coloring book and wordlessly hand him some markers.

The first time, he scoffed.

The second time, he sighed and grabbed a color.

Eventually, it became a stress-relief tradition.

Harvey was always flirtatious, but with you, it started shifting into something deeper.

He found himself looking for excuses to be around you even outside of work.

The moment he realized he had feelings?

It was after a particularly long day, and instead of leaving, you stayed behind to make sure he ate something.

Your quiet concern struck a chord, and he couldn't shake the thought; 'They're the only one who sees me, really sees me.'

After his accident, he was convinced you'd leave.

Everyone else had.

But you didn't.

And that scared him more than anything.

The shift between friendship and romance was slow - full of stolen glances, lingering touches, and conversations that meant the world to him.

It wasn’t dramatic.

It wasn’t planned.

It was raw.

One night, after he had fully embraced his Two-Face persona, you found him in his hideout, staring at the coin in his hand.

“Why are you still here?” His voice was rough, guarded.

“Because I choose to be.”

He scoffed, but there was something vulnerable in his expression. “I’m not the man you knew.”

“You think I only cared about half of you?”

That was it.

That was the moment.

He closed the distance between you, his hands hesitating before resting against your waist.

He was scarred, broken, and dangerous.

But you weren’t afraid.

You never were.

Intense, passionate, and complicated.

Harvey is not an easy man to love, but you never wanted easy.

He’s fiercely protective of you.

Gotham is a dangerous place, and he will make sure no one lays a hand on you.

You are one of the few people who can get through to both sides of him.

When his darker impulses take over, you don’t try to change him - you just remind him of who he is.

He adores the way you challenge him, your ability to exist in the moral gray without losing yourself.

It makes him trust you more than anyone.

It started as a joke, but now it's a thing.

"Heads, I kiss you. Tails... You kiss me."

"This feels like a win-win for the both of us."

You read aloud to him, especially on nights when he can't sleep.

Your voice keeps him grounded.

He'll drape his coat over your shoulders absentmindedly, but the way he watches you afterward?

That's intensional.

Neither of you like loud places, so when the world gets too much, he puts on a record, and you sway together in the dim light of his hideout.

He loves seeing you in the morning, half-asleep, glasses slightly crooked as you grumble about needing coffee.

He’ll get you black and red accessories just because he knows you love the combo.

He lets you put sparkly things in his hideout - not a lot, but enough that it makes him smirk when he notices.

If you leave notes in his paperwork or on his desk, he keeps them. Always.

He does this without thinking. It’s his way of grounding himself in you.

It took him a long while to even get used to his new look, the scars...

But you were there to reassure him, that you loved him, all of him.

Tracing his scars...

At first, he flinched when you did it.

Now, it’s a comfort.

His nickname for you is 'Lucky.'

Because you stayed.

Because you see both sides of him.

Because, in his mind, he’s the lucky one.

Help you with your writing - he’s surprisingly good at giving feedback, though his suggestions are often dramatic.

Stay.

No matter how dark things get, no matter how much he pushes you away, you stay.

Call him out when needed.

You don’t blindly agree with everything he does, and he needs that.

Remind him he’s still Harvey, not just Two-Face.

Your love story is one of loyalty, intensity, and an understanding that goes beyond black and white.

Harvey isn’t a perfect man, but for you, he doesn’t have to be.

You love him for all that he is - and in return, he is yours.

8 notes · View notes

justsomerandomfanfic · 24 days ago

Note

Hi! I’d love a romantic or platonic matchup for MHA or DC. I’m 19, use he/they pronouns, and I’m bi, so any character works for me! I’m someone who loves collecting sentimental objects, like trinkets or pressed flowers, and I enjoy writing letters or journals to document my thoughts. I’m big on making gifts or surprises for others, and I often find myself people-watching or overthinking scenarios. I’m a dreamer at heart, so I spend a lot of time fantasizing about future relationships or creative ideas. I also love reading, writing, and making music—I play the viola, piano, and guitar, so music, making things, and writing is a huge part of my life.

Personality-wise, I’m introspective and creative, with a soft spot for meaningful connections. I thrive on deep conversations and small, thoughtful gestures. My aesthetic is cozy and nostalgic, with a touch of artsy vibes—think warm tones, vintage inspiration, and a space filled with books and instruments but I also dress in vkei or dark lolita. I’d love to see which MHA or DC character/s you think would match my vibe!

Hi!

I would love to write you some matchups!

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I really hope you like them!

(Also, you play all those instruments? That's super impressive!)

:)))))))))

I'm also sorry for the bit of rambling! I kept getting more and more ideas as I wrote, so hopefully it all make sense and I didn't end up repeating myself X)

Anyway!

Enjoy!

<3333333333

Romantic Matchups; My Hero Academia and DC

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Romantic;

~~~

My Hero Academia;

Keigo Takami -

As an upcoming pro-hero, you were assigned Keigo Takami as a mentor.

At first, you were skeptical - sure, he was talented, but his laid-back, nonchalant attitude didn’t quite match your structured, thoughtful approach to things.

He, on the other hand, was immediately intrigued.

You were different from the usual hot-headed heroes-in-training.

There was something about your introspective nature, your quiet confidence, and the way you thought before acting that fascinated him.

Your first real bonding moment happened when he caught you people-watching during a break.

You admitted that you loved observing people and imagining their stories, and to your surprise, Keigo joined in, coming up with ridiculous, funny backstories for strangers passing by.

Despite his teasing and easygoing nature, Keigo started taking your training more seriously.

He admired your creativity in combat, how you thought outside the box, and the way you used your surroundings to your advantage - like a strategist rather than just a powerhouse.

You both shared a love for small, meaningful gestures - Keigo noticed this quickly.

Whenever he brought you coffee or something he saw that reminded him of you, you always reciprocated with a small, handmade gift or a handwritten note.

He kept every single one.

You introduced him to music, often playing the viola or piano when you needed a moment to unwind.

At first, Keigo just listened, utterly entranced by the way your fingers danced over the keys or strings, but eventually, he started humming along.

You became each other's safe space - deep talks late at night, whether on the rooftops of the city or in quiet cafes.

You shared your fears about hero work, your dreams, and your pasts, and Keigo - despite his usual carefree attitude - always listened intently.

Keigo realized his feelings first.

He'd always been a flirt, but with you, it felt different.

It wasn't just teasing; it was an aching need to be close to you.

The way you always thought of him, how you saw beyond his public persona and into the person behind the wings, made his heart flutter in ways he wasn’t used to.

For you, it was slower.

Keigo had always been charming, but one day, after an exhausting mission, he found you in the agency’s lounge, asleep with a blanket tucked around you - the same one Keigo had draped over your shoulders earlier.

That was the moment something clicked.

The stolen glances became longer, the casual touches lingered, and the teasing turned softer - more intimate.

Keigo started memorizing your favorite things, and you started missing him when he wasn’t around.

It happened on a quiet evening on the rooftop, after a particularly tough mission.

You were both exhausted but alive, the city lights twinkling below.

Keigo, for once, looked uncertain.

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a pressed flower encased in resin.

“You gave this to me months ago,” He said, rubbing the smooth surface between his fingers. “Said it was ‘a piece of something beautiful that deserved to be kept.’”

He met your gaze, his golden eyes unusually soft. “That’s how I feel about you.”

Your breath hitched. “Keigo-”

“I want you in my life,” He admitted. “Not just as my apprentice. Not just as my friend.” His voice lowered, tender. “As someone I get to love.”

Then, unable to help yourself, you kissed him.

Whenever you’re feeling overwhelmed, Keigo takes you high above the city, where the air is crisp and the world feels small.

You play music for him, and sometimes, he hums a tune just for you - often with terribly cheesy lyrics, but his sincerity makes you melt.

Even though you see each other every day, Keigo writes you little love notes and tucks them into your things - sometimes poetic, sometimes silly, but always personal.

Keigo is obsessed with your aesthetic and always finds trinkets he thinks match your vibe.

He once commissioned a custom music box that plays one of your favorite melodies.

Keigo steals your sweaters, claiming they’re cozy (but really, they just smell like you).

You make tea or coffee for each other every morning, though Keigo tends to sneak extra sugar into yours because he insists “sweet people should have sweet things.”

Lazy Sundays are spent curled up with books - Keigo pretends to read, but he’s usually just watching you with a soft smile.

Keigo is ridiculously touchy - back hugs, cheek kisses, forehead touches.

He always has a wing draped around you, shielding you from the world.

You trace patterns on his hands and shoulders, marveling at the warmth of his skin and the way his heartbeat quickens under your touch.

He would remember every small detail about you, from the way you like your tea to the specific way you tilt your head when you’re lost in thought.

Keigo is fiercely protective, but he also trusts your strength.

He won’t suffocate you, but he’ll always be a step behind, watching your back.

If you're ever feeling down or doubting yourself, Keigo pulls you close and reminds you just how incredible you are - whether through words, a gentle kiss to your forehead, or simply being there.

He would collect things that remind him of you, keeping little mementos in a small box - your letters, a strand of ribbon, and the very first thing you ever gave him.

You would write him songs - even if you don’t share them, he knows they exist, and that alone makes his heart race.

You’d make him gifts, whether it’s a woven bracelet for luck on missions or a journal where you document your best moments together.

You would ground him.

As much as Keigo acts like he’s fine, you know when he’s struggling.

You’d hold him, remind him he doesn’t have to be strong all the time.

You’d press flowers in his books, knowing he’d find them later and think of you.

Keigo Takami is the kind of lover who makes ordinary moments feel magical.

He thrives on excitement and freedom, but with you, he finds comfort, stillness, and a love that feels like home.

You balance each other - you bring him depth and quiet beauty, and he gives you lightness and unwavering devotion.

Together, you are a love story written in the sky, with every feather and melody carrying echoes of your hearts beating in tandem.

~~~

DC;

Donna Troy (Wonder Girl) -

Fancast Conor Leslie as Donna Troy

You were recruited to the Watchtower after your rare ability - hypnotizing people with your viola - caught the attention of the Justice League.

Batman, ever the strategist, saw potential in your power for interrogation, deception, and even battlefield control.

Donna was the first to greet you when you arrived.

She found your ability fascinating but was more intrigued by you - a quiet yet thoughtful presence amidst the chaos of heroes.

While the others saw your ability as tactical, Donna saw the artistry in it, watching with genuine awe when you played.

Your first real conversation happened when she found you in one of the Watchtower’s observation rooms, playing your viola while looking out at the stars.

She sat down beside you, listening, letting the music speak before words were needed.

That was the beginning of something undeniably special.

From the start, Donna felt comfortable with you.

Your introspective, artistic nature intrigued her, and she found herself seeking you out more often, drawn to your ability to turn even quiet moments into something meaningful.

You started leaving little pressed flowers or handwritten notes in places she’d find them - on her training gear, inside books she read, even on her pillow.

She never mentioned them aloud, but you’d always catch her with a soft smile when she found one.

She, in turn, made it her mission to find trinkets for you on missions - small stones from ancient ruins, tiny carved figurines from different dimensions, or even a feather from an otherworldly bird.

Donna loved that you cherished them.

You two would spar together - even though your strengths were different, she insisted you learn self-defense beyond just your powers.

She loved how determined you were, and she found it endearing when you got frustrated trying to keep up with her Amazonian reflexes.

She quickly became your protector without even realizing it.

If someone doubted your usefulness on the team?

She shut it down immediately.

If anyone underestimated you, she made sure they saw just how powerful you were.

Music nights-

Sometimes, she’d sit beside you while you played the piano or guitar, eyes closed, just feeling the sound.

On rare occasions, she’d hum along, and those moments felt like pure magic.

Late-night stargazing-

Donna has seen worlds beyond worlds, but she loves hearing your poetic thoughts about the cosmos, how you wonder about different lives and futures.

She listens with quiet reverence.

Training sessions that turn into philosophical talks.

You'd start with combat drills but always end up having deep conversations about life, destiny, and the meaning behind heroism.

Shopping for aesthetic things.

She wasn’t much of a shopper before, but after knowing you, she started enjoying browsing through bookstores, vintage shops, and places that fit your cozy, nostalgic aesthetic.

She loved watching you get excited over small details.

Donna didn’t realize she was falling for you at first.

She just knew that she hated seeing you hurt, that she always wanted to be near you, that your laughter felt like home.

The realization hit her during one of your viola performances.

Watching you play, completely lost in the moment, something inside her just clicked - she wanted to be the reason you smiled like that.

You started noticing how her touches lingered a little longer, how her eyes softened when she looked at you, how she always found an excuse to be wherever you were.

The moment that confirmed it?

When you were in battle and got injured, Donna went feral.

She didn’t just protect you - she unleashed a fury no one had seen before, and it became clear to everyone (including her) that this was more than just friendship.

It happened in the Watchtower’s observatory, where you often played music.

You had been avoiding her, confused by your growing feelings, but Donna wasn’t one to let things go unspoken.

“I know you feel it too,” She finally said, stepping closer, her voice gentle but sure. “Tell me I’m wrong, and I’ll leave it alone.”

But you couldn’t say that - because you weren’t wrong. Instead, you finally let yourself lean into her warmth, her steadiness.

“You’re not wrong,” You whispered.

She didn’t waste another second - she pulled you into her arms, pressing her forehead against yours before finally closing the distance with a kiss.

Donna is fiercely devoted - once she loves, she loves with her whole being.

You become her person, and she makes sure you know it every single day.

She adores your artistic side, always encouraging you to create, to dream, to express yourself.

Sometimes, she’ll just sit beside you while you write or compose, offering quiet support.

She absolutely melts when you write her letters.

The first time you gave her one, she didn’t just read it once - she reread it over and over, treasuring your words.

She’s the type to casually rest her head on your lap while you play music, closing her eyes and enjoying the way your fingers dance across the strings.

Training together turns into flirting - she loves seeing you determined, and it always ends with teasing, stolen kisses, and laughter.

When she’s away on missions, she always brings you back something - a book from another world, a pressed flower from Themyscira, anything that reminds her of you.

Protective but respects your strength - she knows you can handle yourself, but that doesn’t mean she won’t step in if she thinks you’re in danger.

Dancing together in your room, just swaying to the sound of your favorite records, her arms wrapped tightly around you.

Mornings wrapped up in blankets, sharing soft kisses and whispered words before the world calls you to duty.

Writing poetry about each other - even if Donna won’t admit it, she’s written about you, her feelings spilling onto paper.

She absolutely loves hearing you play your instruments - sometimes she’ll just sit on the floor, watching, completely mesmerized.

Casual forehead kisses - whether you’re in the middle of a mission, training, or just existing, Donna finds ways to show affection in simple, soft gestures.

Defend you with everything she has - physically, emotionally, spiritually.

No one disrespects you in her presence.

Help you find inspiration when you're feeling creatively stuck.

She’ll take you to places that spark your imagination, or just listen when you need to talk through ideas.

Learn how to play a little music, just for you.

She’s not the best at it, but she tries because it makes you smile.

Leave little notes or sentimental gifts in her locker, her quarters, or even tucked into her armor.

Help her process her emotions.

She’s strong, but sometimes she needs someone to remind her it’s okay to be vulnerable.

Write songs or melodies inspired by her.

The first time she realizes a piece you played was for her, she just about melts.

Donna Troy would love you with intensity, warmth, and quiet devotion.

She’d adore everything that makes you you - your art, your passion, your way of seeing the world.

With her, love wouldn’t just be words - it would be in the small, everyday moments that turn into a lifetime of affection.

3 notes · View notes

justsomerandomfanfic · 24 days ago

Note

heyy, I would like to request a platonic and romantic DC mashup if that ok with you!

I'm 19 and I go by they/them, I haven't really figured out my sexuality but I like every gender. I have light brown hair, dark green eyes, really pale skin, a small nose and freckles, pretty tall (1,90m) and curvy.

my hobbies are reading, drawing and just learning random facts. My favourite book is howls moving castle, my favourite show is haikyuu and my favourite movie would be your name. I love punk rock but I do listen to every genre but my favourite band is stray kids. My favourite colour is purple. I'm russian and am fluent in russian, English and German since I live in Germany. I'm an introvert and red bull addict. I have social anxiety and ADHD.

Already thanks if you are gonna write my mashup. If not that's fine too. Also feel free to correct any mistakes!

Hello!

I would love to write you romantic and platonic matchup for DC for you!

I love DC so much!

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It usually takes me a moment to really find a romantic match for someone, but after reading your information, I instantly thought of someone!

So I hope you like them!

(Also, living in Germany? That's super cool!)

<333333

I hope you like your matches!

Enjoy!

<33333

Romantic and Platonic Matchups; DC

~~~

Romantic;

~~~

DC;

Conner Kent -

You met Conner through Tim Drake, your close friend from college.

Tim had mentioned his 'broody, sometimes grumpy but loyal' best friend before, and one day, Conner randomly appeared when you were studying together in Tim's dorm.

Conner had flown in through the window, much to your surprise, (and mild panic).

Tim, completely unfazed, just greeted him with "You're early."

Meanwhile, you were sitting there, wide-eyed, clutching your Red Bull like it was a lifeline.

"Who's the deer in headlights?" Conner teased, smirking at your startled expression.

After introductions, you quickly realized Conner was more than just a superhero - he was awkward, sarcastic, and a bit of a dork.

You made a joke about his dramatic entrance and to Tim's horror, Conner actually laughed.

That's when Conner decided he liked you.

At first, your friendship was slow but steady.

You were introverted, and Conner wasn't exactly the most social either.

But somehow, your dynamic just worked - you bonded over mutual sarcasm, deadpan humor, and chaotic ADHD energy.

You started to text a lot, mostly sharing random facts you learned, like "Did you know octopi have three hearts?" or "Cows have best friends."

Conner thought it was adorable and even started replying with his own facts.

And memes, lots of memes.

He found your love for punk rock fascinating and, despite being more of a country-rock and rock-and-roll kind of guy, actually asked for song recommendations.

He now has a few Stray Kids songs on his playlist because "You like them, so they can't be that bad."

Since you were friends with Tim, you naturally got roped into Wayne Family chaos, and Conner always made sure to stick around, just in case things got too overwhelming for you.

He noticed how social anxiety made large gatherings exhausting, so he'd sometimes pull you aside for "recharge breaks" - flying you to a rooftop where you could just sit and breathe.

Inside jokes galore!

Tim constantly sighs in exasperation whenever you and Conner get sidetracked talking about conspiracy theories.

"For the love of Gotham, focus!"

Conner found your drawings amazing, and he treasured every single one you gave him.

If you caught him staring too long at a sketch of him, he'd just awkwardly look away and pretend he wasn't totally swooning.

The shift from friendship to something more was subtle.

It started with little things - Conner offering you his jacket even when you said you weren't cold.

Him memorizing your coffee or tea order.

And the way he always seemed to position himself protectively near you in public.

One day, you were having a bad ADHD day, struggling to focus on an assignment, and Conner helped keep you grounded.

He read out your notes while gently running his fingers through your hair absentmindedly.

You had to fight the urge to melt into him.

The moment Conner realized he was in love with you?

You were talking about your favorite book, Howl's Moving Castle, and when you mentioned how much you loved Howl's 'extra, dramatic, but soft-hearted' personality, Tim snorted and said, "Oh, great, you basically just described Conner."

That made Conner go completely quiet, watching as you scolded Tim, lightly hitting his arm.

You started subconsciously mirroring each other - the way you sat, the words you used, even your habits.

Tim was sick of it.

The confession happened accidentally.

You were ranting about something (probably about an annoying professor), and Conner just... Blurted it out.

"You're really cute when you're mad."

You froze, "What?"

Conner immediately looked like he wanted to yeet himself into space.

"Uh, I mean. I think you're cute all the time. But, uh, I especially like you when you're mad. Or happy. Or just... In general."

Cue awkward silence and staring.

Then, after what felt like an eternity, you said, "That was an adorable, but terrible, confession."

"Yeah. I know."

But then, you smirked and nudged his shoulder. "Good thing I like you too."

Conner's relieved grin was so soft, and instead of saying anything, he just pulled you into a hug.

Being with Conner meant lots of simple, domestic moments.

He wasn't big on grand gestures, but he was big on consistency - always showing up, always taking care of you.

He was already fluent in Russian, but quickly grapples with German for you.

Late-night Red Bull runs, where Conner flies you to random gas stations or stores just because he knows you need your fix.

He loves cuddling.

It took a while for him to admit it, but he melts when you run your fingers through his hair.

Kisses on your forehead when you're stressed.

"I'm not letting you go to bed without something to eat."

He's so stubborn about making sure you eat.

Movie nights where he lets you pick everything.

He doesn't always get what's happening in 'Your Name,' but he loves the way your eyes light up when you talk about it and watch it.

When you're drawing, he watches in fascination and sometimes leans in really close, just to see every detail.

He would do anything for you.

If you ever had a bad day, he would drop everything just to make sure you were okay.

You ground him - on his bad days when he feels like he isn't enough, you remind him that he's not just a clone, not just a weapon - he's Conner.

And that's enough.

You bring him a sense of him he never had before.

He always has a hand on you - whether it's holding your pinky when you're walking side by side, resting his hand on your knee, or just gently tugging on your sleeve.

He remembers all of your little quirks.

The way you get lost in thought when reading, the way you bite your lip when focused - he loves it all.

"You're my favorite person."

He says it so casually, but every time, it makes your heart race.

He tries so hard to draw something for you once.

It's kind of awful.

You treasure it anyway.

Whenever he sees something purple, he thinks of you.

"Dude, you're obsessed."

"There just flowers, Tim."

"Conner, this is the third purple bouquet that you gave them this week."

"They like purple."

Protect your fiercely - not just physically, but emotionally.

If anyone ever makes you uncomfortable?

They are gone.

Fly you to see the stars on bad days.

Be your biggest supporter in everything you do.

Learn your favorite songs just to hum or lightly sing them when you can't sleep.

"'Cause when our eyes lock, it's like my heart stops~"

You help him find his place in the world.

You make him feel so loved.

You are always in his corner, no matter what.

You give him a home - one that isn't just a place, but a feeling.

~~~

Platonic;

~~~

DC;

Tim Drake -

You and Tim met in college, both showing up to the same advanced literature class.

You had arrived early, sitting in the back corner with a Red Bull in hand, already engrossed in your book.

Tim, equally early but looking exhausted, took the seat next to you without a second thought.

It wasn't until you muttered a sarcastic comment under your breath about the professor's overuse of the word "paradigm" that Tim smirked and responded in kind.

That was the moment he decided you were worth getting to know.

You didn't bond immediately - both of you being introverts, there was a lot of comfortable silence before you started causally exchanging book recommendations.

One day, he caught a glimpse of you sketching in the margins of your notebook - doodles of fictional characters, little concept art pieces, and even a tiny, detailed Batman sketch.

He was intrigued.

Your friendship started with shared study sessions in the library, where you two would sit in silence for hours, only occasionally muttering sarcastic remarks about your coursework or the absurdity of college life.

Tim found your ability to hyperfixate on learning random facts fascinating - sometimes you'd randomly blurt out things like, "Did you know cows have one stomach, but it is broken into four different segments?" in the middle of studying, and he'd just blink at you before filing it away in his own brain for later use.

He was the first person who truly understood your ADHD brain in an academic setting - if you got distracted or overwhelmed, he'd gently guide you back to focus without making you feel bad about it.

Since both of you are introverts, you developed an unspoken rule: no unnecessary small talk.

It was completely normal for you to just sit together in the same room, doing your own thing without feeling the need to fill the silence.

Caffeine-fueled study marathons.

You'd bring Red Bull, he'd bring coffee, and together you'd survive sleepless nights before exams.

He'd be the one reminding you to at least try to sleep though.

Music-sharing sessions.

You introduced him to Stray Kids, and while it wasn't his usual genre, he begrudgingly admitted that some of their tracks were pretty good,

In return, he'd send you deep-cut punk rock playlists that matched your vibe.

You forced him to read 'Howl's Moving Castle,' and he actually really liked it - Howl reminded him too much of some people in his life, but he wouldn't elaborate.

He, in turn, introduced you to detective novels, and you'd spend hours theorizing about plot twists together.

Since you loved learning random facts, Tim made it a game - who could find the most bizarre, obscure fact first?

It became an ongoing competition, and you'd both randomly text each other things like, "Did you know wombat poop is cube-shaped?" at odd hours of the night.

Tim was the first to notice that you and Conner had a thing before either of you even acknowledged it.

He saw the way Conner's gaze softened when you spoke, how he always seemed to find an excuse to be near you.

When you finally admitted to liking Conner, Tim's response was very flat.

"Wow. What a shock. No one saw this coming."

He acted completely indifferent but was secretly pleased because he trusted Conner to treat you right.

If anyone else had tried to date you, Tim probably would've done a full background check, but since it was Conner?

He just sent him a text saying, "If you screw this up, I'll know."

Tim was 100% behind the scenes helping Conner plan the perfect way to confess.

But, well, you know how that went.

Conner never got to use Tim's advice.

He quickly became the person you ranted to whenever Conner did something dumb but endearing.

“Tim, do you know what he did today? He tried to cook me breakfast and set off the smoke alarm.”

He got used to seeing Conner drape himself over you like an oversized golden retriever, and while he pretended to be unimpressed, deep down, he thought it was cute.

Whenever you and Conner had a minor disagreement, Tim would be the neutral party - he’d listen to both sides, then calmly say something brutally logical that made you both realize you were both being ridiculous.

If Conner was away for a mission, Tim made sure you weren’t lonely, even if it just meant sitting with you in silence while you both read or drew.

He always remembers your favorite drinks and snacks.

If you’re having a bad day, he’ll show up with a Red Bull and a pastry, no questions asked.

If your ADHD made it hard to remember important deadlines, he’d subtly remind you without making you feel bad about it.

“Hey, didn’t you have an assignment due next week? Want help planning it out?”

He’s your low-key bodyguard in social settings if Conner's not there.

If he sees you getting overwhelmed at a party or event, he’ll casually swoop in with an excuse to leave.

He never forces you into uncomfortable social interactions - if you don’t feel like talking, he gets it.

You don’t need to explain.

Since he’s a workaholic and forgets to take care of himself, you make sure he eats and sleeps properly.

Sometimes you’ll just shove a granola bar into his hand and give him a pointed look.

You doodle little sketches of him as a detective, which he pretends to roll his eyes at but secretly keeps in his notebook.

When he’s deep in a case and hasn’t slept, you’ll text him reminders like, “I will physically fight you if you don’t take a break.”

If he ever gets overwhelmed with work, you’ll just quietly sit with him.

No pressure to talk - just silent companionship to help him focus.

You and Tim have a quiet, understanding friendship.

You both respect each other’s introversion, and there’s no need for constant chatter to fill the space.

He’s not overly affectionate, but in his own way, he cares deeply - he just shows it through quiet acts of support rather than big gestures.

Your friendship is the kind that lasts a lifetime, built on mutual respect, sarcasm, and a deep, unspoken bond.

He's the best friend-brother you could ever ask for.

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