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ereardon · 8 months

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Before I Knew [Jake Seresin x Reader] Chapter One

A Jake Seresin unexpected pregnancy fic

Overview: On your first night after moving to San Diego to spend more time with your brother Bob, you unknowingly have a one night stand with his teammate Jake Seresin. For the first time in his whole life, Bob has a closely knit friend group and you’re desperate not to rock the boat. But an unexpected and unplanned pregnancy upends your world, forcing you and Jake closer together, against Bob’s wishes. What will happen when you find yourself actually falling for the father of your unborn child?

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader; Bob Floyd x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Pregnancy, cursing, eventual smut, alcohol

Chapter summary: Y/N meets Bob's squadron, and encounters someone she thought she'd never see again; the Daggers celebrate Jake's birthday where he and Y/N have their first conversation after the one night stand

Masterlist here

You were late. Bob was going to kill you. Your brother was a stickler when it came to being on time. It came as no surprise to anyone in your family that he had gone into the military.

You rushed through the door, purse strap getting caught on the handle and you tugged it free, chest rising as you spun around, searching for Bob. He stood in the corner of the coffee shop, pristine in a khaki uniform, eyes wide behind his wire glasses.

“Hi Ducky,” he said as you tossed yourself into his arms, breathing in his familiar scent. He felt like home, even though it had been years since you and Bob had lived under the same roof. You had been barely a teen when Bob left for the Naval Academy, and his stints on land were far and few between after. His assignment to Top Gun was the first time he had settled somewhere on a more permanent basis. It’s why you decided to move to San Diego after college. All of your friends had scattered around the country – grad school in New York, policy analysts in Washington, even one friend had taken an internship with an art dealer in Miami. But you had packed up and left Tennessee with one goal. Be closer to your brother.

“Bobby,” you grinned, stepping back to admire him. Every time you saw him it was months apart and so much had changed, but also so little. He was the same Bob who had thrown you over his shoulder to win the family flag football game on Thanksgiving. The same Bob who had carried your book bag for you when you were in elementary school and he was a middle schooler and went a mile out of his way every morning to make sure you got to your homeroom class safe and sound. The Bob who always picked up, day or night, when you called. The Bob who listened to you weep about your college boyfriend who broke your heart. The Bob who took care of you when you were seven and had the flu and your mom was working a double shift at the hospital and couldn’t stay home with you.

“Ducky,” he said, dropping your hands. The familiar nickname on his tongue brought forward a flood of memories: spring weekends flying kites in the nearby park, sitting on the back of a tandem bike with Bob on a trip to Florida to visit your grandparents, the fort the two of you made the one time it snowed two feet in Tennessee in under a day in March. “This is my squad. Guys, meet my sister, Y/N.”

You tore your gaze from Bob, looking over at the table he was gesturing to, a smile plastered on your face. A beautiful brunette with pearly white teeth and a tight bun was on the far left. That was Phoenix. You had received a handful of letters from Bob talking about her. Next to Phoenix was a handsome, bulky man with a mustache in a plain blue t-shirt. Wow, he was gorgeous.

Your eyes shifted over one more, breath halting in your throat as your gaze slowly crept up. First you spotted the dog tags. Eerily familiar, but then again, a lot of military guys wore dog tags, right?

Then the chin. Ridiculously cut jaw, slight bifurcated butt chin that you had found weirdly adorable two nights before. Plump, pink lips, puckered up in a grin. You felt your heart sink. There was only one thing left. You raised your eyes to his. Clear, seafoam green. An ocean in two small orbs. He smiled as you screamed internally.

Bob’s voice drew you out of your coma. “That’s Bradley.” The mustache man waved a hand. “And Jake Seresin. Hangman.”

Jake. Your stomach did a somersault.

Last time you had seen him, you had been teetering on the edge of drunk, standing outside of the bar with one hand on the railing, the salty ocean wind licking at the sweat on your collarbone, flicking the ends of your hair up against your chin.

The next moment, his tongue was on your throat, in your mouth, fingers in your hair, pressing your body against the railing of the deck as you whimpered into his lips.

You had crept out of bed before he woke up. Just a gorgeous, tan, muscular back sticking out beneath crisp white sheets as you tugged on your short dress and called an Uber. You had expected to never see him again.

And here he was, smirking at you as your brother’s gaze narrowed.

You had fucked up. Correction. You had fucked Jake Seresin. And that was a major fuck up.

***

Bob had never been the type to have a huge friend group, or any close friends really. So the first time he called from Top Gun, giddy with excitement, you had been elated for him. Your brother deserved a tightly knit friend group.

Before you had moved to San Diego, Bob had filled you in on the group’s antics. Their flights, their wild nights out, the dynamics. But he had centered mostly on Phoenix and Rooster.

Jake had conveniently been left out of the majority of the conversation.

“Well?” Bob asked as the two of you headed back to his house in your rental car. “What do you think of the group?”

“They’re nice,” you said.

“That’s it? Nice?”

You sighed. “I’m really happy for you, Bobby. You have a good group of friends. I know that’s what you always wanted.”

Bob leaned back against the seat. You were the one person that Bob confided in. He was an open book and you could read him with one glance. Looking over, you spotted his furrowed brow, the tense way he was squeezing his knuckles together.

“Are you OK?” you asked, turning your eyes back toward the road, slowing down to take a right turn.

“Tell me you didn’t move here for me.”

“Then I’d be lying.”

“Y/N,” Bob said. His voice had taken on Big Brother™ mode. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Don’t you want me around?” you whispered.

“Of course I do,” Bob replied. “I just don’t want you to waste your life following me.”

“Living in California a waste?” you asked. “No way.”

“What’s the plan, Duck?”

“Not everyone was born potty trained and with a plan, Bobby.”

“You’re twenty-three,” he countered. “It’s time to be an adult and figure out what you’re doing with your life.”

“You sound like mom.”

“And we both know she’s never wrong.”

You sighed. “Just because you got your life together at seven doesn’t mean I have to.”

“Duck—”

You cut him off. “Bobby, please. It’s been a week. Give me a little time and I promise, I'll figure out what I’m doing. Just be my brother, OK, instead of acting like my dad.”

That silenced him. Bob had taken your father’s disappearance harder than you had. He put on a brave face. He stepped up. He became the man of the house. But that meant that he had taken it upon himself to be your brother and your dad. So even at twenty three he still saw you as a child.

The two of you drove the rest of the way back to Bob’s house in silence. Inside, you were just about to close the door to your guest bedroom when Bob’s voice floated down the hall.

“By the way,” he said, “I told the squad we’d go out for drinks with them tonight. It’s Jake’s birthday.”

You grimaced. “Sounds good.”

“Leave at nine?”

“Sure.” You closed the door, plopping down on the bed face first. You had moved to San Diego to figure your life out. And of course the first thing you had done was have a one night stand with one of Bob’s teammates. If he had been anyone else in the world you would have been able to avoid him.

What do you get someone for their birthday when you hoped you’d never see them again?

***

“Floyd!”

You turned at the same time as Bob. Bradley grinned. “Oh this is going to get confusing.”

“Here.” Natasha pointed to the bar stool next to her. “Have a seat. Boys will get you a drink. Bradshaw?”

Bradley tipped his head. “On it, ma’am.”

She rolled her eyes as you settled into the seat, crossing your legs beneath the short skirt. “So, Y/N. Bob’s told me all about his little sister. But he left out that you were coming to live here.”

“I’m not much of a planner.”

Phoenix laughed. “The anti-Bob. I like you already.”

“He’s told me a lot about you,” you replied. “And Bradley.”

“And nothing about Jake I’m guessing?” You nodded and Phoenix took a sip of her beer. “Trust me when I say, you don’t want to even go there.”

“Are you speaking from experience?”

Phoenix craned her neck around, making sure the two of you were out of earshot before nodding. “Just steer clear of him. That’s my suggestion. Hangman is fun for a night. But things get messy quick. And he and Bob have a little bit of a history.”

You frowned. “What kind of history?”

Just as Phoenix opened her mouth to respond, Bradley pressed a beer into your open hand. “Ducky.”

You grimaced. “Bobby, you didn’t!”

He shrugged. “Sorry.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m so going to eat your last Pop-Tart tomorrow just to get you back for that.”

“Fill us in, will you?” Phoenix asked.

“When she was four, Y/N became obsessed with those little yellow rubber ducks that you put in your bath.” You groaned as your brother recounted the full story. How you had thrown a fit when your mother had tried to take you out of the bath and the only thing to calm you had been to fill your bed with the rubber ducks. And how the next morning that continued, one rubber duck gripped firmly in your chubby hand as you ate breakfast, went to the park, tagged along to the grocery store, went to daycare. This continued for weeks.

You didn’t want to admit to the team that you still had a rubber duck stuffed inside your suitcase back at Bob’s house. It was a safety net of sorts.

“Sorry, Duck,” Bob said, squeezing your shoulders and placing a small peck on the top of your head.

You looked up at him. His cheeks were flushed, he had a massive grin on his face. He was happy. All you had wanted in as long as you could remember was for Bob to be happy. He took your happiness more seriously than his own. It was time you returned the favor.

“Am I interrupting?” All eyes turned to Jake. He had on a tight black t-shirt and a pair of jeans with cowboy boots peeking out the bottom. He shot a grin your way and you did your best to avoid his eye contact.

“Happy birthday, Hangman.” There was a chill in Bob’s voice, or perhaps you were reading into it because of what Phoenix had said earlier.

Jake nodded. “Thanks, man. Anyone up for a game of darts?”

Bob dropped his hand from your shoulder, following Phoenix and Jake back toward the darts board on one end of the bar. You sat back in your seat, tipping the beer down your throat, watching as they played. There was an easy banter with all of them.

You finished your beer, the darts game still ongoing. Quietly, you slipped around the edge of the room, out the door that led to the back deck.

It was quiet outside, just the sound of the waves crashing against the hard sand and the soft hum of the music as it seeped through under the door and from behind the old windows. You laid your fingertips on the wooden railing, tipping your head back toward the moon that was slung low in the sky, feeling the cool breeze dry the sweat that had started to form on the base of your neck.

“Mind if I join?”

You turned. Jake stepped out onto the deck, a beer in one hand. He approached the railing, putting the green bottle down and smirking over at you. This time you were far less drunk. You shrugged. “It’s your birthday. Who am I to say what you can or can’t do?”

He frowned. “Don’t be like that.”

“Just because you’ve seen me naked doesn’t mean you know me.”

He looked bristled. “Y/N. I had no idea you were Bob’s sister when we met the other night. If I had known, I—”

“Wouldn’t have fucked me?”

He grimaced. “You’re the one that left without saying anything.”

You folded your arms over your chest. “It’s not like you were falling over yourself to drive me home. It was better that way and we both know it.” You allowed yourself to look up. God, he was stunning. Green, wide eyes. Tanned skin, the way his forearm flexed as he gripped the railing. You could remember the way his touch felt as he dragged his fingertips over your skin. You tried to shake the memory from your mind. “Just do me one favor.”

“Sure.”

“Don’t tell Bob,” you whispered. “Let’s just forget the other night ever happened.”

Jake’s gaze lingered. “If that’s what you want.”

You pushed up off of the railing. “It’ll be better, trust me.” You headed for the door, turning around at the last moment. Jake was still leaning against the railing, watching the waves in the dark. “Jake?”

He turned, green eyes wide. There was something almost sad about him, you thought. It was a fleeting glimpse, but you saw it.

“Happy birthday.”

He smiled. You turned, peering through the glass on the wood door. Bob had his head thrown back in a laugh as Bradley pounded against the piano keys and Phoenix danced. You smiled. Your brother was happy.

You weren’t going to ruin his perfectly crafted life by saying you had slept with one of his friends. It would be easier for everyone if you and Jake Seresin pretended you had never met before.

How would they ever catch you in your lie?

Please follow my library page @ereardonlibrary as that will largely serve as my tag list. Anyone I previous promised to tag is here:

@bobfloydsbabe @blue-aconite @wkndwlff @mamachasesmayhem @mandylove1000 @djs8891 @clancycucumber230 @rosiahills22 @buckysteveloki-me @kmc1989 @gigisimsonmars @eloquentdreamer @mjisbby @shanimallina87 @seresinslady @seresinhangmanjake @blackwidownat2814 @yanna-banana @bbyvanessaa @mrsjobarnes @midnightmagpiemama @ingoaliesitrust @rockbottomphilosophies-blog @iangiemae @joaquinwhorres @boiolay @sometimesanalice @spinning-away

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realisticfanfictions · 8 months

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Being Sanji's Girlfriend & Baratie's Head Waitress - Part 4.

Sanji x Waitress!Reader: Part One, Part Two, Part Three.

Working at Baratie wasn't without its challenges, and the fights that sprung up because of them weren't rare either. You and your boyfriend never sweated the small stuff, after all working in a high stress environment made you, well, stressed. But maybe some things can't be resolved that easily.

Tags: Sanji x Reader, Waitress!Reader, constant bickering, mostly fluff with some angst, (heavy) swearing.

A/N: Initially going into this, I was planning to have the fishmen come in and have the Mihawk fight, but it was a bit more important to set up some more character dynamics before I moved onto 5k words of action scenes. So here's a nice bit of LORE(tm) and a bit more about how Y/N thinks. Next part I promise is 100% action, and I can't wait to show ya'll what I've come up with for Y/N's weapon! It's so cool.

Word Count is 3,421. Hope you enjoy!

Tag list (comment to join!): @siriuslyblackonback @jvhoons

"So, you're really going to fight him?"

Zoro, not looking up from cleaning his swords, nodded. "It's my dream." He explained, observing the blades for any damage. After he challenged the swordsman, the next few things happened rather quickly. The scramble to get Luffy as if that'll somehow convince him to stand down, the captain instead supporting his first mate's goal, and Nami storming off upset. It all passed by in a blur, and now you were alone with Zoro in their ship.

You nodded and turned to look out of the porthole, observing the calm seas that rocked the boat. "I guess dreams are worth dying for." You sighed and leaned back in your chair. "Sucks you met Mihawk too early."

His jaw tightened, and set down his sword. "If I run now, I'll never become the world's greatest swordsman."

You hummed and watched him through the reflection on the glass. "Honour, huh?" You mused and nibbled on the tip of your thumb. "How ridiculous. You're just like Sanji, uncompromising."

"Don't compare me to that shitbag." He snapped and sheathed his sword, clicking it shut in its scabbard. "Speaking of, why are you with him?"

Confused by his words, you looked over at him. "What do you mean?"

"He cheats on you, doesn't he?" He questioned and turned to face you, leaning against the cabinet. "He seemed pretty friendly with Nami a couple hours ago."

You chuckled. "That's just Sanji. He's obsessed with women. It's more," You thought of the words. "It's like having a dog that you love and care for, and though you go up and pet other dogs, you don't abandon your own dog for some random one on the street."

Zoro's eyebrows raised. "You do realise you just called yourself a bitch, right?"

You rolled your eyes and flipped him off. "Shut up. He's just chivalrous, that's all."

"Well, I'd be watching him if I were you." He walked over, his long strides making it seem effortless to reach you. "Guys like that don't tend to keep only one dog."

You opened your mouth to retort, but shut it and stood chest to chest with him. "Just focus on not dying, alright?" His eyes squinted ever so slightly, and he leaned down close to you, gazing directly into your eyes. "What are you doing?"

He stares for a moment, and then straightens himself back up. "Nothing."

You quirked an eyebrow. "Alright, I'm going home to my boyfriend."

"Wasn't trying to make a move." He retorted and stepped aside, letting you walk past him. "(Y/N)?" You placed a hand on the door frame and turned. "Be careful."

You looked him up and down. "Try not to die."

Mihawk's eyes haunted you like a ghostly presence that you couldn't shake off. It was like you could feel those piercing eyes all over your body, every inch of skin was tainted and you hated it. You always have.

The door to you and Sanji's shared room creaked open, and you popped your head inside. You didn't know what to expect, but Sanji jolting himself upright on the chair that sat in the corner of your room wasn't exactly one of them. The door softly clicked closed behind you, and you slowly walked up to him, his eyes on you the entire time as you sat on his lap. You positioned yourself sideways and leaned your head against his chest, reveling in his warmth when he wrapped his arms around you and placed a kiss against your scalp. Sanji's thumb rubbed circles in your thigh, more of an anxious gesture than anything, as he pressed many more kisses against your skin. You sighed and relaxed into him. "I may have overreacted." You started, ripping the band-aid off. "And I apologise."

He nodded. "Thank you for that. Sorry for not finding you sooner."

You shook your head against his chest. "I was drinking, you would've killed my buzz." You paused. "But I guess it was ruined anyway."

"Oh, I'm sorry-"

He stopped when you held up a hand. "I didn't mean you, Sanji." You opened your mouth, but couldn't find the words. Or rather, you found them, you just didn't want to share them. "A man came asking after our new chore boy."

You felt Sanji tense under you. "Are you okay?"

Mihawk's eyes restraining came to mind. "I'll be fine," You picked at a loose thread. "But Zoro won't."

Your boyfriend's hand stopped and pulled back to look you in the eye. "Zoro?"

"Luffy's friend, the guy with the swords. The idiot challenged him to a duel."

Sanji's head tilted. "Why?"

You let out a small sigh and untangled yourself from him, walking a couple feet to your dresser and pulling out a change of clothes. "Because they're idiots with a death wish." You said as you peeled off your top with a groan. "Fuck. Thank God I don't have work tomorrow."

He watched you for a moment as you shimmied out of your clothes and slipped into some pajamas. "Sweetheart, I'm not really comfortable with you drinking with pirates. I mean, it's a bit dangerous-"

You scoffed, pulling an oversized shirt over your head. "They're not pirates," You said as you tugged the shirt down, barely bothering to notice it was a gag shirt with an octopus on a bowl of rice. "Hell, they barely qualify as sailors." But when Sanji didn't respond, you paused. "Oh, you mean was I drinking with Zoro." You turned around to face him. He was leaning forwards in his chair, leg bouncing. You sighed and walked over to him. "He was just my drinking partner, and he's most likely going to die tomorrow." You run your hand through his blond locks. "It'll be fine. You don't have to worry."

"I'll have to trust you then." He said with a smile, then laughed when your gentle pat turned into a frantic scratch. "Hey! Not the hair!"

A smirk split across your face. "I don't know, Sanji. You might just have to trust me!"

He chuckled and grabbed your hands, pulling you forward onto him and wrapping you in his arms. "You know what I mean."

"I guess I'll just trust you-"

"Yep!"

"And trust that you're doing a good job! And- Sanji!" You squeaked when your boyfriend ambushed you with a barrage of soft kisses pressed across any bit of skin he could reach. "You tasteless toad! You're two tablespoons of terrible!"

"Two tablespoons of terrible." He repeated in a strange voice and you giggled when he tried to tickle you. "Oh no! The tickling toad has come to torment you!"

You push his hands away and trap his face in your hands. "You twat." You smiled and gave him a lingering kiss.

When you parted, he gave a soft smile. "And you even ended it with a 't', brilliant."

You quirked an eyebrow. "You weirdo."

He mirrored you. "And I somehow love you."

"But weirdly, you love me very weirdly."

He nodded. "Birds of a feather."

"If we're birds, you're a flamingo."

"Why?"

"Because if I wasn't dating you, I'd think you were a bit of a flamingo."

He gasped. "Then you'd be a penguin, because you bring me rocks."

You leaned back and gave him a look. "Because I bring you rocks?"

He nodded. "Yeah, you even put them on me. And you help me get my rocks off."

He laughed as you hit him. "Sanji! That's so bad!"

Your hands were caught and you were pulled into his chest, both of you giggling and stealing kisses from each other while occasionally snuggling impossibly closer. Sure, you might be a bad person - but you liked who you were with Sanji. And that's all you really cared about.

You lied. That night you couldn't sleep with hundreds of thousands of millions of thoughts racing through your mind. You felt like you were a greyhound chasing down a slightly too-fast rabbit, every time you got close, sleep just slipped through your fingers. Your gaze drifted from the ceiling where you were counting the nails in the boards, and over to your boyfriend. His sleeping face made a million butterflies emerge from their cocoons in your stomach, your heart beating against your rib cage like an angry gorilla. But something about this wasn't right, and you couldn't go to sleep without doing something about it.

Careful to not wake your peaceful boyfriend, you slowly lifted his arm from around your waist and placed it on his pillow, heart aching at the sight of him trying to seek your warmth. Even in sleep he wanted to be close to you. Grabbing your pillow, you gently tucked it under his searching hand and he brought it to his chest with a soft groan, the smell of you satiating him.

You rolled out of bed and tip-toed over the squeaky floorboards, wincing every time the floor made a sound. After looking back each time and taking moments between each footstep, you made it through the door and quickly shut it behind you. The early morning's chilly air struck you, but you ignored the goosebumps rising under your skin and continued on. It felt strange walking without your heels clicking against the floorboards, but you weren't looking to make noise, or look fashionable in this instance.

The Overnights were rooms for guests who've either had too much to drink, or who pay extra to stay overnight to hookup, or just to stay, again, overnight. You passed by the many in-use rooms filled with snoring and other unseemly sounds, rolling your eyes at the disgusting slobs behind the doors. A room stood out amongst the others, however, and you knew it held what you were seeking. The aura that emanated from it was unmistakable.

You reached into your hair and pulled out a bobby pin, sticking it in between your teeth to open it and then jammed it into the lock. All the locks were the same on the Baratie, and you only had to jimmy the locks, moving the pins frantically within, to open it without much effort. The door clicked open and you gently pushed it open.

When you stepped inside, you felt it. The blade at your neck. Without a second thought, you pushed it from your jugular and grabbed the silver candlestick on the hallway table, holding it firmly as the blade was struck against it. It sliced through with ease and a sharp burning went through your cheek, knowing that if you hadn't moved your head, it would've went through your eye. "You're slow." Came the hauntingly beautiful, yet unsettling voice from your nightmares.

You hissed and shoved his sword away from your face. "You haven't seen me in seven years, and the first thing that comes from your mouth is criticism? How shocking."

"Six." He corrected, and the room was suddenly bathed in a low yellow hue. Dracule Mihawk was a terrifying man. His golden, ringed eyes glowed in the dim light and when they looked you over, it felt like he was observing your soul and picking it apart with the grace one would picking the petals off of a flower. Those eyes locked onto yours. "It's been six years."

You rolled your eyes and pushed past him. The room was a similar layout to your own, with the only difference being the minimalist design and abhorrent amount of red wine. You knew the latter didn't come from the room. Rather, they came from his personal stash that would deem any other man an alcoholic. But Mihawk was simply old-fashioned, born in the wrong non-vampiric century if you will.

He sheathed his famed black blade Yoru in one smooth motion and danced past you, sitting gracefully in his armchair and crossing one leg over the other. Your eyes drifted over to his hat hung on a hook and reached out to run your fingers against the silky feather. "Don't touch it." The old swordsman warned behind you, picking up his book and flipping over the next page. "I despise disorganisation. It needs to be acceptable for my duel tomorrow. Or rather, in the upcoming moments since you have woken me up at such an ungodly hour."

Despite your reluctance, your arm retracted almost on its own. "You were already awake, asshat." You turned around and crossed your arms. "And it'll be creased anyway, so it doesn't matter if-"

"Not necessarily." His words were as sharp as his gaze. "If we go by that barbaric logic, it doesn't matter if a man is murdered since we all die in one way or another."

You scoffed and returned his look with your own glare. "I'm not too sure, you're more experienced when it comes to murdering men."

Mihawk picked up his expensive crystal wine glass, and took a long, silent sip of his Tarapaca. It was placed back down onto the table with a clink. He leaned back in his chair which squeaked as he did so, and interlocked his fingers. "Why are you here, (Y/N)?"

"I was going to ask you the same question."

His head tilted for a moment, before righting itself. "I'm here for Monkey D. Luffy."

You hadn't realised your shoulders were tensed until they drooped down. "That's it?"

He nodded. "I am only here as an obligation to Garp to collect his grandson."

To your annoyance, your throat tightened. "I thought that was an excuse."

"It wasn't." The man you hated sat in his chair completely unbothered. His eyes lingered on you for a moment, before drifting back to his book. He flipped the page. "'But tell me, at the time of those sweet sighs, by what and in what manner Love conceded that you should know your dubious desires?'"

Pathetically, you felt stinging at the corners of your eyes. "'And she said to me: “There is no greater sorrow then to recall our times of joy in wretchedness.”'" You breathed in through your nose. "Inferno, by Dante Alighieri."

"From?"

You cleared your throat. "Divine Comedy."

"What year?"

You took in a breath and shook your head. "1321?"

He said nothing and turned the page. You stood silently, wanting to run but having no strength to do so. His gaze finally lifted to meet yours. "Is that all?"

A chill ran over your skin, and you were once again reminded of the kind of man he was. There was a lot you wanted to say to Dracule Mihawk. So much hatred and anguish that you had to endure, all the suffering handed to you by the well-manicured hands of the greatest swordsman in the world. You hated him. "Unless you want to say anything?"

His eyes held yours for a moment. "Goodnight."

"Go fuck yourself." You practically grew fangs and spat venom at him. Spinning on your heel, you kicked the wall where his hat hung and stormed out of the room.

A scream bubbled in your throat. Your nails dug into your palms, and your lips were bloodied from ripping them open. He had no- you couldn't- he was such a-

As you turned a corner, you felt something pinch the base of your skull and you whipped around. Pulling your gun and aiming it, you locked eyes with the other swordsman in your life. Zoro, bathed in moonlight, turned his attention from his swords to you. The rag he was cleaning his blade with stopped and he was focused solely on you. "I think I know who you are."

You scoffed and shoved your gun back in its holster. "Well, apparently most people don't, so I'll take anything at this point." He was quiet, and your lips tightened into a smile. "Want a drink?"

The door opened with a click and Zoro whistled. "Nice trick."

You put the bobby pin back in your hair with a smile. "Thanks." The Baratie after-hours was a sight to behold, but the bar was even better. You smiled at Zoro and guided him around the front of the bar where the shutters were closed.

"Thought you said it's open all night."

You looked behind you as you bent down to the latch holding the fish's mouth closed. "I said you couldn't get anything on tap around three in the morning," You unhooked the chain and pulled it free from the floor. "Didn't say that the bar was open. Come help me." You shuffled to the side to make room for him, and grabbed onto the shudders. He appeared by your side and hooked his fingers under the shudders next to yours, you both nodded to each other and grunted as you lifted the shudders. You expected it to be heavier, but with Zoro it lifted with surprising ease. The moonlight poured in and illuminated the bar, shining through the empty bottles of booze and creating a kaleidoscope of colours.

The green-haired swordsman chuckled and looked around. "I've never been in a bar after hours." He sat down on a nearby couch normally reserved for V.I.Ps. "It feels naughty."

You shrugged, walking over to the bar and reaching over. "Yeah well, if we're caught I'll probably get fired, so don't fuck around." Your fingers wrapped around the neck of a bottle and you hoisted it to eye-level. "You a rum guy?"

He smiled and gave a half-shrug. "I'm a booze guy."

"Good answer." You said and carried over two shot glasses for the both of you. Sitting down, you tugged off the cork with your teeth and poured yourselves shots. You raised your glasses. "To you dying tomorrow."

His eyebrows raised. "To me surviving tomorrow." He corrected and clinked his glass against yours, keeping his eyes on you as you took a shot together. He sighed, flicking his head and nodding. "That's good."

You nodded and sniffed. "It's very good." You filled your glasses again. "Only the best shit for the only guy that knows me." You gulped it down, and didn't wait for him to finish before filling yours back up.

He chuckled. "I'm the one dying tomorrow, and here you are drinking like it's the end of the world."

"Yeah, well," You sniffed and swirled around the liquid in your glass. "My life kind of fucking sucks at the moment. So, I think I deserve to get shit-faced."

Zoro tilted his head and licked his teeth. "I bet you had a miserable childhood."

You laughed and leaned back, tears pricking at yours eyes as you nodded. "Understatement of the century." You said under your breath and looked up at him, forcing a smile. "I grew up on some private land owned by nobles."

He nodded. "You said that."

"Yeah, but what I didn't tell you was I wasn't born there. My Dad, being father of the fucking year, didn't want to care for a baby so he dumped me with some workers. Then, when I truly got attached to my family and finally was accepted as a member of the community, he just came back and picked me up. Like I was some type of broken watch he left to be repaired." You shook your head and reveled in the burn of the rum as it slid down your throat and warmed your stomach. "And ever since then, he's just tormented me. Even when I got away from him, it's like he's always there just watching me - waiting for me to mess up. And you know, all the shit that I did to make him proud of me? Every late night reading libraries' worth of books just in case he quizzed me on it in the morning. Every lesson in combat styles, or how to sense others, whatever the hell that means. Most of the scars I have are from trying myself to him. But never once was I told 'Good job (Y/N)', or that he was proud of me. He never even smiled at me." You finished the shot and placed it down onto the table. "And you know what fucking sucks? After all this time, all the anguish he's put me through? All I want him to look at me and tell me that he loves me."

Zoro looked at his glass and his mouth tightened into a fine line. "I know the feeling." His eyes drifted back to yours. "To shitty parents?" He offered, raising his glass.

You chuckled and shook your head, but poured yourself a glass and raised it. "The shittiest."

A/N: Um, okay this was pretty heavy and it took me a while to write because I wanted to make it actually matter. I think there'll be a few more parts and then we'll be finished with the Baratie saga! Then, I might take a break and do maybe another series/one-shot while I properly plan the next part. We'll also be naming this series! The poll has concluded and within the next couple of days, we'll be figuring out the name! Comment down if you have any suggestions, or want to join the tag list! <3

P.S: When the Baratie saga is done, I'll release it all as one part so that it'll be easier to re-read. It'll be a bit of its own thing, so stay tuned haha.

#sanji x reader #opla sanji x reader #opla sanji x y/n #opla x reader #one piece live action #opla sanji #opla zoro #opla

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crappymixtape · 2 years

Text

eyes half shut

hawkins high alumni always run the end of year carnival to help raise funds for the school and steve is always in charge of the alumni basketball game, but this year they’re trying out a kissing booth and who better to headline than steve harrington? | ( 3.9k – a little angst, a little fluff, kinda enemies to kinda lovers, steve x you, steve x reader )

E Y E S H A L F S H U T 🎶 dream boy, savannah conley

“Now, please don’t be late, Steven. Jason’s done with his shift right at seven and we don’t want to keep people waiting.” Miss Click tapped on the clipboard in her hand before hanging it back up on the nail hammered into the wall of the booth, “Robin Buckley volunteered to cover the cash register for your shift too! You remember Robin.”

Steve felt his jaw tick with irritation as he tried to hide the grimace on his face, his old History teacher practically beaming at the very mention of his friend. Of course Robin volunteered to run the register. She just wanted a front row seat for what was sure to be the most humiliating night of his life.

“Great. Robin Buckley. A real grade A student,” he said with a forced smile, jamming his hands into the pockets of his Levi’s.

“I thought so too! Such an attentive pupil,” Miss Click agreed before checking her watch. “Oh dear, I need to go check on the cake walk. I’ll see you back here in a few hours, I’m sure we’ll have record donations!” and with that she was off across the football field leaving Steve alone in the small booth to freak out about what he’d just agreed to.

A kissing booth. Great. Perfect. Totally fine.

He definitely wasn’t sore about Tommy getting to run the alumni basketball game instead of him. Wasn’t stressing the fuck out about the idea of having to kiss people for an hour straight. Or worse, kiss no one at all and have to live under a rock for the rest of his life and he totally wasn't going to kill Robin for ‘graciously volunteering’ to take money at his expense.

Loosing a sigh from his chest Steve ran his hands through his hair and kicked at the frame of the wall, KISSING BOOTH written above him. All curly letters and lipstick marks and bright red paint, taunting and teasing him about what would be happening in a few short hours.

It was going to be fine. Totally fine. Steve Harrington could handle a few smooches for charity. Right?

Right?

Midnight, gettin' uptight, where are you? You said you'd meet me, now it's quarter to two. I know I'm hangin' but I'm still wantin' you.

Joan Jett was yelling through the speakers of your stereo as you leaned over your dresser, swiping mascara through your lashes in the mirror, trying your best to hurry up and get ready for the Hawkins High Jamboree.

Did you want to go? Absolutely not.

Was your room mate and best friend making you go with her? 100%.

“So, like, are you gonna be ready this century or should I plan on arriving in a coffin? Actually. Steve’s gonna probably put me in one anyway, might be doing him a favor,” Robin mused around her toothbrush from across the hall in the bathroom.

“Hah, are you kidding? That guy came out of the womb as a fully formed show boat. He loves shit like this,” you shot back, shaking your head at the thought of Steve posted up at the kissing booth. A stupid, shit-eating grin pasted on his face. Signature hair all perfectly coiffed. A ridiculously long line of girls just waiting to fawn over him.

��Can’t argue you on the show boat bit, but he’s still totally gonna kill me,” Robin said snorting as she spat her toothpaste into the sink.

You weren’t sure what had happened between senior year and now, but somehow your best friend had also become Steve Harrington’s best friend and it made absolutely no sense.

At first you’d been extremely skeptical, even overprotective of her, and made it a point to tag along with them where ever they were going to make sure he wasn’t going to do something shitty, but much to your chagrin he proved you wrong every single time. He was even nice and somehow made Robin ugly laugh more than you did. How dare he?

“C’mon, I don’t wanna keep Nance waiting, she’s gonna be downstairs soon,” Robin popped her head in through your door and you shot her a grin.

“Ooo, eyeliner. Are you two going out after?” you teased, wiggling your eyebrows at her and she frowned, cheeks flushed.

“Yeah. Maybe. What’s it to you?”

“Nothing!” you held your hands up in surrender and gave her a little smile, “Just–it’s about damn time. You two have been dancing around each other for months.”

Robin was pretty private about her love life, especially after things hadn’t worked out with Vickie, and you were one of the only ones who really got to be in the know. Well. You and Steve, but you had to hand it to him. He at least seemed pretty damn empathetic and supportive in that regard toward Robin and you were thankful to him for it.

“What, are you keeping track?” Robin grumbled, smoothing her shirt down a bit and picking at the chipped black polish on her nails.

“You’re the one with the scoreboard,” you gently teased back, shoving your feet into the Chucks next to your dresser, but then your expression softened as you looked up at her, “You know I’m not. I’d be one to talk anyway, my love life is non-existent.”

“Yeah, well. Maybe you should try. It’s not all bad. Look at me, put myself out there and already have a date,” she said pointedly, scrunching up her nose at you.

“No, thanks,” it was your turn to grumble and you shouldered past her into the hallway.

“Wait. Wait a second. Yes. Yes, thanks!” she said, tone suddenly shifting into the one where you knew she was up to no good.

“Robs, whatever you’re about to say? Don’t,” you grabbed your wallet and chapstick off the kitchen table and turned to fix her with a look. The way she was grinning at you was horrifying. “Oh my god. What?”

“Kiss him,” she said simply and you looked at her blankly.

“What?”

“Put yourself out there! Kiss him!” she said again more enthusiastically and your stomach flipped over.

“Steve? Oh, wow. Let me go ahead and put a ‘hell’ in front of my no. No, Robs. No way,” you crammed your things into your pockets and shook your head, opening the fridge to try and find a beer. Booze suddenly felt very, extremely, necessary.

“Seriously! C’mon! What, are you chicken?” she make a little squawking noise as you cracked open the last beer hiding at the back of the fridge.

“Seriously?” you parroted back, “What, are you twelve? No, I’m not doing it.” You took a long drink from the can in your hand and grimaced as the carbonation fizzed in your nose. Too much.

“If you do, I’ll leave you alone for a whole week,” Robin’s tone was sing-songy, dragging out the vowels as she leaned on the open fridge door and smiled at you all sweetly. Full of mischief.

You waited, took another drink of beer and narrowed your eyes at her. She’d been begging you to go on a double date with her and Nancy and the thought of it made you want to throw up. Not only were double dates super cringy, but one: you didn’t have a boyfriend and two: Robin always suggested Steve and you’d immediately have to shut it down. He was absolutely not your type and there was no way you’d make it more than thirty minutes.

“Two weeks,” you countered, “And if you’re gonna hang out with him it can’t be here.”

“Deal!” she said much too quickly, sticking her hand out to you and you frowned, taking it and shaking it aggressively.

“Great. Deal.” It was just a kiss, right? Not stupid Seven Minutes in Heaven or Spin the Bottle, just cramming a dollar into a jar and a quick peck on the lips and you’d be free from Robin’s meddling for two whole weeks. Worth it.

Buzzzzz.

Someone was at the door, a Nancy Wheeler shaped someone, and the color drained from Robin’s face.

“Oh, c’mon. You’re fine, you look great,” you took another drink of your beer and then offered the last half of it to Robin who finished it off in one go.

“It’s not—“ Robin burped, beer was a bad choice, “—too much?”

“No, it’s not too much. The eyeliner is nice, really brings out the black in your heart. Now let’s get go,” you grabbed the empty can from her hand and tossed it in the recycling before shoving her toward the door.

“I can’t believe you’re gonna kiss Steve,” she said, grin tugging at the corners of her lips and your expression soured.

“Oh my god, just go,” and despite your grumbling, despite insisting on your irritation, all you could think about the entire ride over was a sliver of a memory from last summer.

It was smack in the middle of July. Sun beating down with the intent to fry you alive.

Robin had practically begged you to go get ice cream and it wasn’t like you were gonna say no. It was hotter than hell out, of course you were gonna get ice cream, but then Steve tagged along. Sat across from you in the booth and ordered a strawberry milkshake. Wrapped his perfectly pouted lips around the straw and sipped it slowly. Licked whipped cream from his fingers. Ate the cherry last and looked up at you when he’d pulled it from the stem with his teeth and for a split second all you could think about was him.

What it would taste like. What it would feel like.

What it would be like to kiss Steve Harrington.

“Bye now,” Jason was smiling all saccharine sweet. Pure sugar. Too much and too fake as the girl he’d just kissed slowly backed away from him. Unable to pull her eyes away as he leaned against the frame of the booth effortless and on display for the girls waiting in line, all of them disappointed they hadn’t beat the clock to seven.

And as Steve walked across the field to take Jason’s spot, he audibly groaned watching the other boy soak it all up.

Fuck this. He was not excited, he was not looking forward to this, and he did not want to stand anywhere near a damn kissing booth. Roughing his hands over his face he sucked in a deep breath. It was only an hour. Sixty minutes. It would fly by.

“Well, well. If it isn’t the King!”

Yeah, no. This was going to suck.

“Haven’t used that since Junior year, Carver,” Steve’s voice was flat, unamused, and when he walked up on the line a few of the girls huddled up and started to whisper.

“Ah, c’mon, Harrington. Return of the king! Back on top!” the grin that pulled at the corners of Jason’s mouth grew as he fed off Steve’s negative energy. “C’mon, the ladies love it,” and as he turned back to the line a couple girls toward the end started to walk away, “Oof, guess I’m a hard act to follow.”

Steve jammed his tongue into his cheek, hands balling up at his sides as he eyed the other boy, wanting nothing more than to put a fist into Jason’s face. “It’s for charity, dumbass. Not a damn competition,” Steve grumbled as the other boy pushed himself off the wall of the booth.

“Whatever you say, King Steve. Dropping like flies. Least you’ll get out of here early,” Jason sneered and gave Steve a too-hard clap on the back. Biting down on his lip, Steve struggled to keep himself in check, struggled to keep his hands at his sides until someone else chimed in.

“Carver you better get goin’, gonna be late for Bible study,” Robin walked up on the boys with you and Nancy in tow and gave Jason a too-sweet smile of her own, “Don’t wanna let Jesus down. Well. More than you already have I guess.”

Jason’s face turned beet red and Steve stifled a laugh with a very unconvincing cough, a few scattered giggles coming from the line.

“Shut up, Buckley.”

“Tsk, tsk. How’s it go? Love your neighbor or whatever? Anyway, so nice to see you!” Robin punched him a little harder than she should’ve in the shoulder and walked up behind the counter to take over for Chrissy Cunningham. “Alright, ladies! Now that we’ve taken out the trash – come give the King of Hawkins high a big ol’ smooch and help buy new basketball uniforms! Real win/win here, friends,” her voice was so loud it made people’s heads turn over at the cake walk and Steve wanted to die.

“Jesus, Robin,” he hissed, scrambling over to take up his post under the giant red sign.

Nancy turned to you shaking her head, but smiling all fond over Robin, “I kinda feel bad for him.”

“I don’t,” you said with a laugh, watching the line perk up a bit with Robin’s encouragement as Steve looked like he wanted to pass out, giving the first girl in a line a kiss.

“You know, he’s not that bad,” Nancy said, giving you a nudge with her elbow.

Glancing back over at the booth you saw the second girl walk up and give her dollar to Robin, Steve’s face still flushed and pink, but lips just as pouted and perfect as they’d been that day at the diner. Sipping down strawberry milkshake and pulling the cherry off the stem and you felt your stomach flip over.

“Yeah, I guess,” you muttered, but Nancy chuckled when she saw how rosy your cheeks had grown.

“Okay, well you better get in line or you’ll have Robin on your ass worse than before,” she reminded you of your deal and you groaned. “It’ll be easy,” she said giving you a grin, “And he really is a good kisser.”

Your blush only deepened with her words and you tried to hide it, throwing your eyes down to your feet and starting to walk away, “Okay, great! Can’t wait. So awesome. Just the best.”

“Relax! It’s just a kiss!” she called over her shoulder as you fell into the last place in line behind someone from your old AP English class, trying very hard to not turn and run away.

At first it was an extremely awkward and uncomfortable exchange of events for Steve.

People would give Robin their money, she’d say thank you in her silly sing-songy Robin voice, and then they’d walk up to Steve and smile. Sometimes it was shy, sometimes it was overly aggressive, and sometimes there’d be a weird pause where they’d just stare at each other. He’d clear his throat nervously or stress about whether or not he should’ve brushed his teeth two more times before he’d left the house, but eventually she’d lean in and they’d kiss and then it’d be over.

It was ridiculous because he used to kiss random girls all the time at parties and shit in high school. Used to love it. Maybe because it stroked his ego. Because he liked showing off. Maybe he didn’t get enough affection at home. Maybe Nancy Wheeler broke his heart and he just wanted to forget, but now? Things were different now. He was different now.

He didn’t sleep around, he didn’t kiss and tell, his dating life was abysmal and this kissing booth just seemed to add insult to injury.

“Steve,” Robin whisper-yelled between customers as if she could tell he was spiraling, “You’re doing great. Only two more to go and you’re done!”

“God, Robin. Please stop talking,” Steve hissed back and gave the next girl a weak, half-hearted smile.

“Just saying–”

“Hi,” Steve cut Robin off and greeted the shorter, blonde girl he recognized from Senior year science. She was second-to-last in line ahead of you and you fought back a laugh, watching the awkwardness unfold.

“Hi, Stevie,” she purred and Steve’s stomach lurched.

Stevie? Oh god. Why?

She’d clearly just applied a fresh layer of shiny, pink gloss right before her turn came up and when she leaned in toward him, Steve waited til her eyes were closed to grimace. What? He wasn’t a monster.

It was slippery and wet and not good, but Steve gave her what he hoped was a friendly enough smile as she pulled away all starry-eyed.

“Maybe see you around? When you’re done?” she asked and he swallowed thickly.

“Yeah! Ye–maybe,” he stuttered and she slipped him a piece of paper with her number on it.

“Call me,” she winked and Steve died.

“Okay, sure. Thanks,” he stumbled over his words and when she finally turned away you watched as he screwed his eyes shut, muttering under his breath.

You caught the words stupid and want to die and you almost laughed, but it fell apart in your throat as the girl walked away and left you there. Last in line and panicking as you suddenly remembered what was supposed to happen next. Why were you just as nervous as he was?

Shaking off the last kiss, Steve was ready to just be done. Only one left Robin said, but when he looked up the pained expression on his face softened.

You.

Robin’s room mate. Her best friend. Her cute best friend. The one who fought him over best friend duties. Who teased him relentlessly and gave him shit all the time. Wasn’t afraid to eat an entire pizza on her own and always ordered a chocolate shake with sprinkles at the diner. Who wasn’t afraid to call him out on things and had a mouth like a sailor. A mouth he’d wanted to kiss more and more every time he saw you, but he could never find the right time to ask or try or make a move and–

“Oh,” fell from him, quiet and surprised and your lips twisted into a little frown.

“Oh,” you said back trying to tease, but it came out sounding a lot more hurt than anything.

Steve’s brows pinched together with worry and he took a step toward you, the most he’d moved all night. “N-no, sorry. I didn’t mean it like…” he rubbed at the back of his neck, trying hard to put words to what he was trying to say, but they weren’t coming out.

“That’s okay. S’for a good cause, right?” you shrugged and forced a smile.

“Yeah. Right,” he agreed lamely as you crammed a dollar into Robin’s hand with a glare. Two weeks better be worth it.

Then turning back to Steve you took another tiny step toward him and he did the same putting you two dangerously close. Almost toe-to-toe. The scent of fresh laundry and spearmint and boy making you feel dizzy, making you feel dumb, and when you pulled your eyes off the ground to look up at him your breath caught in your throat.

Fuck he was pretty.

That pout. The twin moles on his cheek. The soft slope of his jaw. The way his hair fell messy across his forehead and into his eyes all warm honey, liquid amber, melted caramel. He was making it hard to hold your grudge and you could feel the wall you’d put up around yourself start to crumble.

“So. We just–” you didn’t finish your sentence as he looked down at you, his lips parted, waiting, anticipating.

“Yeah. Yeah, uh–” Steve’s voice was low and made your tummy twist as he shook his head a little and leaned down. Tried to do the same thing he’d been doing all night, but suddenly so damn unsure. He paused, close enough you could feel his breath as it warmed over your cheek, “Is this–is this okay?”

“Mmhm,” you murmured and you didn’t have to wonder anymore. You were nervous, just like he was was, and it scared the shit out of you.

“Okay, guess I’ll just–” he said, voice barely above a whisper as he closed the gap between you and finally, finally pressed his lips soft and sweet to yours.

And it was everything.

It was slow and curious and a little shy, but the feeling of him against you pushed you to be brave and you tilted your head. Deepened the kiss. Opened for him and he slipped a hand wide and warm and soft at the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair and holding you even closer.

His tongue chased along your bottom lip and you sighed into him, letting him swallow all your soft pretty sounds until you were both breathless and needing air and when he started to pull away you swore you’d give Robin every single bill in your wallet to do it again.

Steve huffed a laugh, hand still holding you gentle at your neck and you bit your lips between your teeth to fight off a grin, too caught up in each other to care about anything else until–

“Yeah, think I’m gonna need another dollar for that one,” Robin was beaming at you two like an idiot and you both fixed her with a look, all sass and attitude.

“Robin,” your voice blended with Steve’s and Robin laughed so hard she snorted.

“Oh my god, please, please make this work. Look at you two. This is ridiculous. Here, go get a drink,” and she fisted a wad of dollars from the register, counting it out and replacing it with money from her own wallet before practically shoving it at Steve.

“What–”

“No, seriously, Harrington. Leave. Get outta here. It’s eight anyway,” Robin cut Steve off and pointed at her watch. Eight on the dot. Kissing Booth closed.

“Uh,” Steve started, looking back over at you with a lopsided smile, “Wanna get a drink?”

Your heart fluttered in your chest, hummingbird wings and nerves and a feeling you hadn’t had in a long time. A tiny flicker breathed into flames when Steve pressed his lips to yours and you felt your cheeks warm again at the thought of it.

“For charity?” you teased, trying hard to will your blush away as you pulled your eyes up to meet his.

“No way,” he said, too quick and suddenly his cheeks matched yours. Pink and rosy and warm and you laughed. “No,” he tried again, smile tugging into a smug grin. Just a tiny bit King Steve, but the show of confidence made you weak in the knees, made you want to kiss him again and you grinned right back.

“Okay, but you’re driving. Robs has a hot date,” turning you winked at Robin and her jaw dropped, fighting the urge to dive over the counter and kill you.

“A hot date?” Steve’s eyes grew wide and he reached up to slap at Robin’s hands, “With Nance??”

“I’m late, gotta get this to Click, told her I’d close this up by eight so she could go home,” Robin rambled, trying to pretend like there was so much to do, but failing miserably.

“Have fun!” you teased, throwing her sing-songy tone back in her face, but she ignored you, walking off across the football field still mumbling under her breath.

You looked back to make a joke to Steve, to laugh at Robin, but the sight of him had your words dying in your throat.

"Ready?" he asked, twirling his keys on his ring finger, looking the most relaxed he’d been all night and your heart leapt, hammering against your ribcage. Deep green henley snug across his chest. Dark wash Levi’s hugging all the right places. Hair still messy in his eyes. Those eyes. One hand jammed in his pocket and dirty blue Adidas shifting on the terf, ready to get outta there. Ready to get a drink with you and dammit, Nancy was right.

He was a good kisser.

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington stranger things #steve stranger things #steve x you #steve fanfic #steve x reader #steve x fem #steve harrington series #steve harrington fic

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countrymusiclover · 6 months

Text

1 - The Arrangement

Part 2

The Last Velaryon

Tag list @rise-my-angel @cdragons

When I was a child I wouldn't have believed you if you told me that one day I would find myself tangled in the claws of both a Lion and Wolf......

Monterys Velaryon, a name that every young child knew of our house before my grandparents died. He was declared the heir to Driftmark at only the age of six and got control of an entire fleet of ships and sea. The name doesn't truly live alive to this day...except for the fact that I exist as the only true born child. My father only was with one noble girl but she died giving birth to me.

But in this world women don't get any claim to a household

Walking through the castle hallways I was lost in my own thoughts about our current situation. It was declared that House Velaryon was to no longer have any high power when House Baratheon took the Iron Throne from the Targaryen. So we had a small castle that was near the same sea that brushed up against Dragonstone that was also claimed by the Stag house too.

Footsteps came running down towards me when I stopped to peek out one of the windows. "! There you are. I went into your chambers but couldn't find you."

"You know I don't care about being stuck up in the same rooms all the time." I responded leaning my back against the wall responding to my lady in waiting who was also my best friend, Chezney Ally.

She became close to me since she had lost her mother at a later age then I did. Unfortunately I never got to know who she was. Chezney had dark brown hair pinned up into two braids while she wore a light blue dress to match our house colors. "You're not trapped here, ."

"Really. Let's think about this shall we." I tapped my chin with my index finger in thought. "I live in a castle that is only surrounded by sea and the only way I will ever be forced to never see this place again is if I wed off to some snob lord far far away."

Chezney sends me a raised brow. "Don't say that you could be wed to a young lord who is actually nice to you."

"Pfft I doubt that. But anyway, what were you wanting me for exactly?" I questioned my friend.

She clasped her hands together. "Since you're not busy with ridiculous lessons can we go swimming off the castle."

"Absolutely you know I love the thrill." I nodded in agreement where we both ran through the hallways. I wasn't wearing flat dress shoes like she was. I was wearing riding boots with a knee length sea blue tunic shirt that was big enough on me it looks like a dress.

Chezney swings opened the door that led to one of the boat docks that was just a little high above the water. She ran to the edge not caring about her clothes get wet when she hit down into the sea. "Come on, !" She cheered, pooping her head above water.

Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear I ran forward and hugged my knees to my chest. I hit the water and felt my hair that was in a braid slightly fall apart. "If I ever have a husband they better be fun or I'm running away." I swam up taking a breath once my head is out of water.

"And I'll come with you if they allow that." She replied, grinning at me.

Splashing some water playfully in her direction I laughed. "Of course I'll allow it and if they don't then I'll find a way to make them."

"Yeah I know you will. Uh oh they found us." Chezney splashed some water back at me looking over my shoulder and her smile dropped.

Turning around in the water I glared at the young guard my father had assigned to me for my protection since he was always busy with being Lord of the Tides. "What are you doing here, Antler!"

"You're wanted by the small council, My lady." He bowed with the wind catching his dark brown curly locks.

Shaking my head I grumbled. "What could they want with me? And tell whoever is asking that I am spending time with my friend."

"I don't think that will fair over with your father, Lady Haelesa ." Antler gulped in a slight nervous tone. "For he is the one asking for your presence at the time."

"I better go. Can't keep daddy waiting I suppose." I swam away and Chezney followed after me. We didn't bother changing into dry clothes since he clearly wanted to see me right this second. Tying my boot laces back properly I sighed following Antler through the dark hallways. The castle was usually cold during nighttime but during the day the ocean wind wasn't unbearable. I honestly enjoyed the taste of sea more than most did and that's saying something since we're all raised to be able to handle sea life. The three of us finally halted outside a set of large double doors where Antler knocked three times signaling we were there.

The doors opened and I stepped inside seeing my father's lord advisors and him sitting around a circle table. The doors were shut behind me where I felt slightly nervous since Antler and Chezney were left outside in the hall. "Leave me alone to speak with my daughter now." My father Monterys declared getting to his feet.

"What did you want to talk to me about, father?" I questioned softly under my breath.

His eyes locked on mine. "It has come to my attention that our house is almost gone. Our heirs are either dying out or are Bastards by my only living son. That needs to change before we're gone forever."

"Change how?" I nervously asked him.

My father rounded the table and came to stand in front of me. He placed his hands on my shoulders before he spoke out. "It is past time you were wed, ."

"What...no." Immediately came from my mouth.

He lowers his gaze. "This isn't up for discussion, dear. It must happen to save our house and name."

"That's not right, father. Something shouldn't just be done because it's been done for a thousand years and no one else has had the balls to change the tradition!" I snapped at my father in disbelief.

He drops his hands from my shoulders. "Watch your tone. You are my daughter and you will serve your house like your mother did before she died."

"If the only way I will ever see the rest of the world is through a ridiculous marriage then I have one condition. Chezney comes with me to whatever house you're sending me to for the rest of my life." I suggested to him with my hands on my hips.

The lord of the tides paused in thought watching me closely then finally replying. "Fine. I'll inform Lord Tywin of the response.....just remember where you come from my dear girl."

"The Old, the True, the Brave." I mumbled back to him when he started to walk away from me until I realized what he had said to me. "Wait a second you said Tywin Lannister?"

My father looked over his shoulder. "Yes I did. Tywin of House Lannister. You are to wed his eldest son Jaime. You will be sailed to Kings Landing and from there the wedding should take place within a fortnight."

"But isn't Jaime a member of the Kingsguard? He took the oath. He can't marry or bear children with anyone. He would be exactly like my brother." Listing off my fingers, this wasn't making sense anymore.

Lord Monterys moved back and sat down in his lord chair. He ran a hand over his chin in silence. I knew that he had a lot of weight on his shoulders and I was probably making it worse. Yet I had all the time in the world to read up on all the houses and history that we had gotten from Dragonstone. "Tywin has assured me that he was removed of his white cloak by King Robert Baratheon. The man who now seats the Iron Throne. So you shouldn't be worried about such matters. Now go back and start packing your leaving in a few days."

"Okay...I still love you father." Pausing in my step just beside the double doors I eyed my father in his chair figuring this would be the last time I saw him.

He sends me a grin. "I love you too, ."

The day for me to leave my family home had finally come to pass. The whole castle staff had been gathering supplies and getting the ship prepared that would go to King's Landing. Gazing out the window I just sat on the windowsill listening to the sea hit against the castle as best as I could. There was no guarantee that we would immediately go to Casterly Rock so this comforting sound needs to be my last memory of home. ", can I come in?" Chezney's voice broke me from the silence.

"It's open, Chez." I answered her, seeing her peak her head inside.

She shut the door with her foot behind her. "Antler sent me to inform you that everything is ready. We just need to get you dressed to go."

"I'm not wearing a tight dress on that boat. It doesn't matter if I'm marrying the wealthiest family in the seven kingdoms, I will be comfortable for as long as I can." I responded to my friend watching her go over to my chest of clothes and shoes searching around for what we could pick.

Sliding down from the seel my bare feet hit the wooden floor until I snagged my boots on. Tying the laces I stood upright. "Okay so let's do one of your brother's old tunics that he grew out of." Chezney draws out some dark blue trousers with a sea blue tunic.

"Can you do the braid your mother taught you?" I asked her to sit down at the window once I had changed my clothes for the trip.

She nodded beginning on the braid. "I heard some of the kitchen staff gossiping about the man you're to marry. They said that Jaime is supposed to be so handsome and the best swordsman in the kingdoms."

"Looks and sword skill aren't all that should define a person. From what I read about the Lannister's they throw gold at all their problems. It's the decisions that someone makes that matters." I rolled my eyes when she finished the braid, letting my silver-blonde hair over my right shoulder.

Chezney shakes her head. "Maybe you'll get lucky and you'll find your right person before your wedding." We clasped hands and left the castle with my father accompanying us on the journey. I don't really remember much of the trip. It was just a lot of sea and not many nights of proper sleep before we were woke to see a much warmer climate and a large populated city unlike what I was used to.

One of the Baratheon guards helped me out of the boat when we ported it to land. My gaze shifted around recognizing the certain king and his queen that was Jaime's twin sister Cersei. "Lady Velaryon, here I thought that your house was gone for good. And all the material with your name had been forged into weapons." Someone remarked in my direction where my gaze shifted across the crowd of people.

I finally stopped searching when I met a second pair of green eyes and blonde hair that fell almost down to his shoulders. And a sword attached to his hip. "Jaime Lannister, I presume."

"The one and only, my lady." He smirked at me smugly.

Putting one hand on my hip I flipped my hair out of my face, getting the sense that I was right about what I read about this family. "Well, be careful, Lannister. My house may not be as known as yours. But I may surprise you and everyone here." Jaime smirked still down at me before I took a bow in front of him and Chezney just quietly smiled at our interaction knowing this was not going to be an easy arrangement.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

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missmaywemeetagain · 2 years

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Pink Scarf - PART 14 (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: kinda

(Read more here--Pink Scarf Series Masterlist!)

Prompt: You are part of Elvis Presley's coveted inner circle, and the currently-disgruntled wife of one of the members of Elvis' famous entourage, the Memphis Mafia. After Elvis' dynamite first performance in Vegas, you find yourself in deep water when his magnetism finally gets to you after all these years. [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: Blood. Assault in various forms. Miscarriage. Death/Mourning. Pregnancy. Cussing. Infidelity. Historical inaccuracies in the Vegas timeline. Priscilla doesn't exist in this timeline.

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact) || Word Count: 7.6k

A/N: I'm so sorry in advance, y'all, cuz this one might knock you on your ass with its dramatic angst and give you whiplash after the last few chapters. Honestly, I hurt myself a bit with this one! *sob* Needless to say, the tone is a bit different here. Please make sure you read the trigger warnings for this part because there are some sensitive topics!

While I hesitated to make a part all in flashback, I couldn't seem to avoid it without creating a ridiculously giant chapter, and I also didn't want to make you wait that long, so here it is, complete with a cliffhanger!

Speaking of that, thank you for being so patient while I got this out. Life is kicking my butt a bit, and I SO appreciate you hanging in there with me!

Also, look out for some fun 1960 Elvis posts/reblogs later so you can get the full visual of his March 1960 glory, in case I haven't described it well enough LOL. I included a Rollerdome pic at the end as well.

As always, to all my babies, honeys, and lil' mamas supporting me out there, your reactions, reblogs, messages, asks, and comments you've given me have been a blessing beyond expression. You all are the best community a writer could ask for! Thank you so much for your support. I am loving getting to know y'all better! I love every reaction and comment and ask, and I'm sorry if I don't get back to them all as soon as I'd like but know that I love you all and am so excited to be making new friends! And a big "Hey, Y'all!" to Elvis Twitter, who stumbled into the Pink Scarf vortex and are now with us in the chokehold of '69 Pink Scarf Era Elvis and are supporting and sharing this lil' fic over there--I see you and appreciate you! 👀💋

If you feel so moved, please let me know what you think or how you're feeling (or send me asks)! I think I put everyone on the taglist who requested it, but please let me know if there are any issues or if I missed anyone. There seem to be some issues with tagging that I can't seem to fix, so please know I'm not leaving you out intentionally! Also, if you comment on a previous part that you want to be tagged, I might not always see it, so feel free to message me if I miss you!

I imagined this with Elvis in mind, but Austin!Elvis works here, too, whatever floats your boat!

Apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors or TW that I didn't catch.

(I did start cross-posting Pink Scarf to my long-neglected AO3 account (which some of you already discovered!), so if you are so inclined, you can check it out over there, though it's not all updated yet!)

March 1960

You shouldn’t feel nervous. It’s just Elvis. But having not seen him in person in over 18 months, or even really being able to talk on the phone, you wonder if too much time has passed, if too much has changed, if the man who went into the Army two years ago is still the friend you cherished.

You wait in front of Graceland in the icy March air with Jack and a multitude of other close friends and relations for Elvis to arrive, shivering in your heavy coat. It’s a strange limbo you all are in, this energy of the end of one thing and the start of something new and unknown. You can’t help feeling that everything is different somehow, that a new era has begun.

This feeling is compounded by the secret you are keeping. You had been wary to accept that your greatest hope is finally coming true, but after your appointment yesterday afternoon, you are finally starting to settle into the fact that new life is growing inside you. You haven’t told anyone yet, not even Jack, since Elvis’ imminent arrival has taken over everyone’s minds. While you have no need to be the center of attention, you also know that the news would get lost in Elvis’ return. No one could compete with Elvis for any sort of attention. It would be a losing battle.

Honestly, you are glad to sit with the knowledge on your own for a moment, to give yourself a minute to adjust to your new reality. And part of you is still quite scared that this could all be over in a flash. It’s still early, the doctor said, even though you were further along than you’d originally thought. But after two years of nothing, there is a piece of you that doesn’t want to get your hopes up.

Perhaps that is truly why you’re feeling nervous and it’s nothing to do with Elvis at all.

Everyone around you starts to buzz, snapping you out of your thoughts, and you look up to see the police cruiser, lights and sirens and all, coming up the long drive. When it finally pulls up in front of the house and Elvis gets out, everyone explodes with liveliness.

It takes a moment for the small crowd to clear enough for you to see him fully. When his tall frame comes completely into view, you feel like all the air has been knocked out of your body. You have to stop yourself from gasping out loud.

He looks beyond incredible. So incredible, in fact, that your heart is suddenly fluttering in your chest like a schoolgirl’s. You have seen him in his uniform before, of course, but the last time, he was so miserable after the death of his mother that the uniform seemed like a prison, an unforgiving punishment almost. Of course, you’d also seen pictures for publicity and ones he sent home which would occasionally show him in his uniform. He always was handsome, to be sure, but now…now, something was different.

You try to put your finger on it because it really has thrown you for a loop. You aren’t some fawning, adoring fan, for god’s sake. But you cannot help but openly stare at the man in front of you. He positively glows. His blue eyes sparkle with the happiness of being home, but it’s not only that. Taking off his cap and tucking it under his arm, he surveys the small crowd and his home with joy. The blue of his dress uniform brings out the reddish-blonde of his natural hair color and the blush on his cheeks. His hair is long again on top, grown out and curled up and mussed from his hat. Compared to the Army buzz cut, it is more reminiscent of his signature coiffed 50’s style, but somehow more mature yet rebellious at the same time. It suits him very well, you think, highlighting high cheekbones, long face, and his now quite chiseled jaw.

Elvis’ whole face is lit up with happiness, that signature grin white and wide, as friends and family gather around him. You can’t help but feel warm and fuzzy to see that smile again in person. When you finally catch his eye, you feel like the whole world stops. It’s ridiculous really, the way your heart throbs in your ears, but you swear his face changes almost imperceptibly when he sees you. You’re not exactly sure how, but it softens somehow, imbued with just a little more warmth than he’s already exuding. His eyes travel over you only briefly before Jack reaches out to embrace him, but in that short moment, you suddenly feel self-conscious.

Once his eyes leave you, you let out a deep breath that you didn’t know you’d been holding. You look down, clasping your hands in front of you, but when you look up again, Elvis is looking at you from over Jack’s shoulder. You are absolutely caught in his blue-eyed gaze.

Stop being stupid, it’s just Elvis.

Perhaps your sudden intimidation by your dear friend is that he left Graceland a boy but has returned a man. Even though he’s thin, it’s in a leaner, more carved, more refined way than before. He still retains a bit of his baby face, but his countenance is different, settled, more worldly.

After exchanging words with Jack that you are too overcome to hear, Elvis steps around him and comes towards you, his attentions focused completely on you.

“Hey there, y/n darlin’,” he says gently, his voice still heavily accented, high and bright.

“Welcome home, Elvis,” you say. It barely sounds like you, you think, too quiet and soft and breathless. You ring your hands nervously.

He begins to open his arms and you know he means to embrace you, and all of a sudden, you are certain you are going to faint. It’s as if you know that if he touches you, right here and now, looking as he does and with the way his essence is radiating around you, something will be irrevocably changed. Your heart flutters and your breath rate increases, and you almost panic as he closes the gap, those eyes of his looking at you in such a way that you feel completely, utterly exposed. You want to run away, but you are frozen to the spot.

Just as he steps up to you, he’s attacked from the side by his young cousin. The moment between you is thankfully interrupted, and you instantly step back and behind Jack as the boy wrestles Elvis.

“Jesus, kid, a little warning next time!” he shouts playfully, putting the kid in a headlock and rubbing his knuckle into his head. He catches your eye for a fraction of a second, his face somewhere between regret and chagrin at not being able to hug you. You manage a small smile, but practically hide behind Jack, grabbing his hand as you warily look on.

The horde gratefully moves inside, out of the cold late winter chill. The look that flashes over Elvis’ face as he crosses the threshold is one of trepidation, grief. You realize being home must come with mixed emotions; after all, the last time he was here was when his dear mama passed, and this was the home he’d gotten for her.

You’re not sure that anyone else catches how his breath hitches and how those pretty eyes become anxious. In that moment, you forget all about the strange reaction you had to him not a minute ago and you ache to go to him, to pull him into your arms and tell him it’ll all be okay.

It seems like both forever and just yesterday that he wept in your arms on the stairs, bereft and inconsolable, as his mother lay in the other room in her casket. He had refused to leave her, petting her, and talking their baby talk to her for so long that they had finally placed glass over her to dissuade him. Even then, he had sat vigil by her side and as you all looked on in collective grief, as the concern for him and his deteriorating state was palpable. Almost no one was able to get him away for longer than a few minutes—first it was the Colonel near shoving him and Vernon out the door and into the arms of the vultures with the cameras outside. Then, Sam Phillips was able to console him for a bit. Jack and the boys and Anita all tried to pull him away, but they were only swept up by him to go see Gladys, and his tearful ramblings continued about how beautiful she looked and her tiny little “sooties,” and then his wailing and sobbing would commence once again.

His mama had always been more than kind to you, and you cried for her loss, but it was truly Elvis’ grief that had the tears rolling down your cheeks. But you hadn’t wanted to overstep your bounds. However, he’d stopped eating and drinking, and looked positively exhausted, eyes rimmed with dark circles. Eventually, you could stand it no more.

“Elvis, honey, I need you…” you’d said, putting your hand on his shoulder gently. He’d looked up at you sharply, eyes so bloodshot and filled with tears that the blue of his irises seemed unnaturally bright, his innocence and grief leeching out of them. You faltered then at the state of him, stumbling over your words, wanting to be as kind as possible. You cleared your throat, continuing, “I need you to come with me, sweetie.”

And somehow, against all odds, he listened to you, of all people. Wordlessly, he’d stood, drawing you tightly to him, his arm gripping your waist and his tall frame leaning on you for support, nearly knocking you over. You’d stumbled with him to the stairs, and he’d just collapsed into you, his head buried into your neck, clinging to you as if drowning in his grief and you were his life preserver. His heart wrenching sobs had silent tears flowing down your own cheeks, and you’d held him, petting him, cooing at him, your protective gaze shooing the onlookers away.

Eventually, after some time, he quieted. You could feel the heat of his head through the now-soaked top of your dress. “Oh, E, you’re burning up,” you’d said, feeling his face with your hands. He’d worked himself into such a state that his body was rebelling against him, and you’d whispered to someone nearby to call the doctor.

At that point, he’d had little fight left in him, and Jack and Sam had helped get him up to bed once the doctor had come. But he’d still clung to you, not letting you leave him once in his ornate, darkened cave of a bedroom. Elvis wouldn’t settle or let the doctor administer the much-needed sedative until you were in the huge bed with him and he was curled in your lap. You had looked to Jack wide-eyed for some sort of support, part of you feeling a little scandalized by being invited into Elvis’ bed, but none of the men knew what to do, and you were the only one so far that had been able to get him away from Gladys. You just got harried looks of bewilderment from everyone, and the doctor had just nodded to you, as if giving you permission to climb up in with him, doctor’s orders. Anything to calm Elvis down.

So you had, your heart breaking for him, confused as to why it was you who he needed, not Anita or Vernon or Jack. Regardless of how strange it was, you were his friend, and you’d do anything to help, no matter your own comfort. You’d stayed with him through the night, back leaning up against the headboard awkwardly, staying even after the sedative took hold because when you’d tried to leave, he’d still clung to you, heavy and feverish.

For hours you’d held vigil over him, hand rubbing soothing circles on his back, eventually drifting in and out of sleep, though any movement from him had you startling awake. And when you woke in the morning, stiff as hell, and Elvis blinked up at you with those huge, grieving puppy dog eyes, the pang in your heart was evident and confusing.

After those few horrid days, you never spoke of it again. You never asked him why it was you who’d been able to reach him through his grief, and beyond a whispered “thank you” in your ear before he left for Germany, he never mentioned it again. Not that you’d seen him for him to do so. Maybe that is why you are nervous, you think, because the last time you saw him, he was so utterly lost, and for whatever reason, you had been a lifeline in one of his worst moments. And that feels significant somehow, though you aren’t sure exactly how.

That look you see in his eyes now reminds you too much of that look from 18 months ago. But there are a bunch of family and friends between the two of you, crowded in the entryway, bustling with excitement, all seemingly oblivious to Elvis’ distress.

It angers you a bit, the way they all clamor over him without truly seeing him. You stand as rooted as he is, as if your being able to move is tied to him somehow. He looks at you then, sensing your gaze or your thoughts in that almost preternatural way of his, and you see the overwhelm in his eyes. The way the endless blue of them seems clouded over with pain and grief. The way they almost beg you to save him.

This, out of everything, gets you in motion, stepping towards him in the crowded space, but there are so many damn people that you can’t get to him. By the time you sidestep cousins and friends, you’ve watched as his face changes, a mask slipping over those handsome features so seamlessly that it takes you aback. You stop short, amazed at the way he now smiles and laughs at the antics around him, as if nothing happened.

You realize he must’ve had to do this to survive over there. There was no way he could show that kind of vulnerability during tank maneuvers or whatever they had him doing. He’s protecting himself, you think.

But it still rubs you the wrong way. The ease with which he switched emotions was disconcerting to you. Somewhat bitterly, you think that he certainly didn’t need your help through his pain this time.

Oh, stop, you chide yourself. He’s been home all of five minutes and first you wanted to run away from him and now you’re mad his grief isn’t crippling him? What’s wrong with you?

“Okay, okay, y’all, I need to go get changed! The press is gonna be here any minute,” Elvis chuckles and waves you all off, climbing the stairs. His eyes catch yours in the briefest of moments and you swear there is something unsaid in them. And then he’s gone, up into his room.

A shiver passes over you, your stomach flipping, and then a wave of nausea comes.

Jack sees you and comes over with concern in his eyes, cupping your cheek. “You alright, treasure? You look a little green in the gills,” he says.

“I…uh…my stomach is upset, sweetie. Excuse me,” you say quickly, the bile rising, and you make quickly for the bathroom down the hall. Once safely locked away, you rush to the toilet, sick. Luckily, once out, the queasiness passes quickly.

The doctor said this could happen, you think, looking at the reflection of your red face in the mirror. You rinse your mouth out and splash your face with cold water. It certainly has nothing to do with Elvis. That would be absurd.

It’s just the look in his eyes is haunting you and you don’t understand why. Maybe it’s just your hormones being in overdrive. Yes, that makes sense. You are on edge and not seeing things clearly. Or maybe too clearly.

After a multitude of deep breaths, you straighten your dress and hair, then head back out into the fray. You find yourself in an empty house. You wander about to find that most everyone has gone back outside to witness Elvis’ triumphant return to Graceland as procured by the press.

They have arrived, littering the snow-dusted lawn and taking photographs and recordings of Elvis as he sits in front of a huge guitar shaped cake. You peek over someone’s shoulder and your jaw nearly drops at the sight. Clad now in all black, his wool coat is appropriate for the chill, but his black shirt is open halfway down his torso, a large gold medallion resting on his bare chest. If he’d looked like the All-American boy getting out of that car not 30 minutes ago, now he looks like the perfect combination of sweet and sinful.

Oh, dear lord.

His chestnut hair is perfectly imperfect, a rogue lock falling over his forehead. You think perhaps he’s added a little shadow and mascara to his eyes, or maybe he’s just exhausted from the long journey home, but whichever it is, the slight darkness on his lids gives him a stunningly beautiful look, his blue eyes popping and dancing with a combination of mischievousness, aloofness, and candor. Somehow, he has retained the youthful swell of his cheeks while also now having a jawline that could cut glass.

As you watch Elvis pick at the cake, deftly putting pieces of it in his mouth with his fingers, the innocent gesture seems almost obscene and that lightheaded feeling comes over you again, this time with a swell of warmth.

You want to look away, you really do, but you’ve forgotten your friend’s natural charm, how his essence pulls even the most unwilling into his orbit. His beauty is one thing, but the feeling that surrounds him is another thing all together. It’s not just you caught in the pull, however. Friends and family gather around, too, though they are likely not experiencing the same type of reaction as you.

Oh, this is utterly ridiculous, you think. Elvis has always been pretty and alluring. Get ahold of yourself.

You think it must be the pregnancy hormones, the way your body flushes from head to toe just watching him eat his cake and play to the camera. You force yourself not to follow as they direct Elvis towards Vernon’s office for the press conference, his tall frame gliding across the lawn in the most confident and nonchalant of ways. He commands his audience as though he’d never left, born to be at the forefront of everything. Focused on the cameras, he does not see you, or so you think, until he catches you staring and quirks his brow.

This finally prompts you to move, turning away quickly and heading back into the warmth of the house. You are glad for the cold, as it gives a reason for your cheeks to be as red as they are, and it douses your heated body with a much-needed chill.

You are embarrassed by your behavior. Elvis is not some idol to be gawked at, not by you. Perhaps it is because you feel so removed from him in his absence, or it is the unasked questions that linger in your mind from before he’d left, but your nerves buzz annoyingly.

You manage to avoid him after the press conference, as he’s utterly exhausted from his trip back home and all it had entailed and sends everyone on their way with the promise of a party the next evening.

Later, lying in bed, you wonder what in the hell came over you. It’s got to be the nerves and excitement about the life growing inside you colliding with the trepidation of your friend’s return all at once. You also know that pregnant women have a multitude of strange physical symptoms, especially in the early days, which would explain nearly everything.

That must be it. It’s not about Elvis at all. It’s your body telling you that you are pregnant.

Finally.

The thought sends a flutter of a different kind through your chest. It’s one of excitement and hope and a little fear. You place your hands on your belly, imbued with a sense of motherly responsibility. You drift to sleep thinking of holding your child in your arms.

The party the next night has Graceland lit up in a way it hasn’t been in years. An air of celebration surrounds the place, chasing away any of the leftover morbidity from Gladys’ passing. You hold Jack’s hand tightly as you enter the mansion, that strange anxiousness from yesterday threatening to ruin your night.

Maybe you should have told Jack about the baby before you came, but no moment seemed quite right. Telling him before work would have distracted him and telling him before the party still seemed to be stepping on the toes of Elvis’ return. Tomorrow, I’ll tell him for sure tomorrow, you think pointedly.

The warm air of the house nearly overwhelms you, and the two of you strip your heavy coats and head towards the sound of Elvis’ boisterous laughter. Your dress is fitted only at the waist and not over the belly, which you are glad for, even though you are hardly showing yet.

You manage to find a seat in the corner with Jack far enough from Elvis that you can breathe, as the fact that he still looks incredible has not changed in the last 24 hours. Why you are so completely stuck on his shocking handsomeness and consumed by whatever prowess he is exuding, you still do not quite know, but it continues to affect you and keep you wary. Shaking off your unhelpful thoughts, you busy yourself talking with Anita, Pat, and the other girls as the men joke and play. After a while, this finally settles your nerves, but you are very conscious of not letting yourself get too close to Elvis as the night goes on, as if being too near will disrupt the tenuous equilibrium you are trying to maintain.

Later in the evening, you excuse yourself and head to the restroom. You can’t help but look in the mirror, rubbing your belly even though it’s impossible to tell yet. This puts a smile on your face, your sweet little secret. And this is how you exit, smiling, stepping into the dimly lit hallway.

“Hey, darlin’.”

“Shit!” you gasp, jumping out of your skin at Elvis leaning casually against the wall across from you. Your heart gallops against your ribcage, one hand flying to your heart and the other to your belly in a protective gesture. “Elvis, you scared the hell out of me!”

“Sorry, y/n,” he says, pushing off the wall, eyes remorseful but watching you carefully.

You find yourself barely able to look at him with him being this close. You will your heart to slow, will yourself to act normal, but it’s like you can’t. You can’t quite meet his eyes, you can’t quite breathe and escape is all you can think of. You awkwardly gesture to the bathroom, thinking that it’s why he’s lurking in the hallway, and then you step away from him without another word.

“Hey, now,” he says from behind you, perturbed, “You wait just a damn minute.”

Elvis’ long fingers circle around your wrist, grabbing you, and it feels like fire. Startled, you turn back and look down at how he holds you firm. You hardly have a moment to process that he’s touching you before he’s pulling you into a room across the hallway. Yelping, you have no choice but to follow—he’s much stronger than you—and he holds fast as flips on the lamp and then shuts the door behind the two of you. He releases you, then folds his arms over his chest with a scowl.

“Elvis…” you start, confused and shocked and trying to process whatever is going on.

“Did I make you mad or do something to offend you?” he interrupts, his voice laced with hurt. Those intense blue eyes of his lock you in place, betraying his churning emotions.

“What? No, what are you—?” you sputter out, faltering under his gaze and needing to look away.

“That! That right there. You can’t even hardly look at me!” he points, voice raising angrily. “You barely said three words to me since I been home!” He steps towards you and instinctually you step back, a hand flying to your belly, as the intensity of being this close to him has you completely overwhelmed.

His eyes widen. “Look at you, you can’t even be in the same room as me without skittering away like a little bird. I thought I was imaginin’ it for a minute.” Elvis pauses, looking you over. “Are you afraid of me?” he asks quietly, the hurt palpable in both his body and voice.

Your heart aches at the sight of him like, forcing you to relax and be more mindful of your actions. “No, of course I’m not afraid of you, Elvis,” you breathe. You aren’t, truly.

“Then what did I do?” he asks with such childlike innocence, such hurt, that your heart breaks for causing it.

“Nothing, E, you didn’t do anything, I swear,” you insist, going to him, unable to bear the look on his cherubic face. You force yourself to get close, pushing through your silly fears.

“Why ya bein’ so strange then, baby?” Elvis asks, eyes scanning your face. This close, you realize you could fall and drown in their oceanic blue intensity.

How can you answer that? You certainly cannot say, “Yes, Elvis, I’m being strange because you came back too handsome and your charming presence overwhelms me, and I don’t know where I stand with you, and oh, by the way, I’m pregnant.”

Your brain scrambles for an answer as the tension between the two of you increases to a level that has you sweating, and you blink up at him, flustered. “I…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be like that…I guess I am afraid that you’re different, or that things have changed too much while you were gone, or that it’s been too long and that you might not, I don’t know, you might not see me as your friend anymore?” you prattle on, the honesty in your words surprising you. The idea and the truth of it brings tears to your eyes.

His beautiful face softens, his mouth popping open as emotions flash over his features so quickly that you cannot grasp them completely. You feel utterly caught up in him, the loss of control and your feelings frightening you.

“Never,” Elvis whispers finally, “Never in a million years could that happen, baby.” The way he looks down at you is charged, confusing, intense.

Your heart flips. A rogue tear slips down your cheek. Stupid hormones.

You are close enough now that you can feel the energy of him pulsate around you. It makes your breath catch when he brushes the tear off your cheeks with the backs of his fingers. You’re not sure if you can bear him touching you more than that because it sends a shockwave through your body.

“So, you missed me?” he asks, a sideways grin beginning to widen on his face.

“’Course I missed you, you idiot,” you sniffle.

“Some way of showin’ it,” he jokes now, breaking some of the tension.

“Well, I’ve had some things on my mind,” you say pointedly. “Life didn’t stop just cuz you were in Germany, ya know.”

You don’t realize that your arm has been wrapped over your belly all this time. Elvis narrows his eyes at you, steps back, and then looks you over very deliberately. Self-conscious and confused under the scrutiny, you blush.

“What?” you ask nervously. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

A huge smile spreads over his features and his eyes light up. “Congratulations, doll,” he grins at you.

He knows. Elvis, of all people, knows your secret after spending less than five minutes with you.

You are shocked enough that you don’t try to deny it. “I…How…?” you stutter out.

“You bein’ so skittish and protective, and the way you been holdin’ yourself this whole time is different. Explains that real pretty glow about ya, too,” he says, booping your nose playfully.

You blush harder. “Elvis, I just found out. No one knows yet, not even Jack, so don’t you dare go saying anything yet. It’s still real early,” you say in a warning tone.

Elvis nods, practically bouncing with excitement.

“Seriously, E, not a freakin’ word, promise me!” you say. He is a terrible secret keeper.

“Okay, okay, I promise!” he grins.

“Lord, with the way you’re buzzing, you’d think I was having your baby!” you laugh.

Something changes in his eyes, but it’s gone so quick that you can’t put your finger on it. He does still a bit, though, and you look at him quizzically. He doesn’t say anything and just looks at you openly. The air has shifted once again.

“Well, we should probably get back out there. Everybody must be missing the man of the hour,” you say, clearing your throat and turning to leave.

Before you can go far, Elvis’ fingers dance over yours, reaching, as if wanting to hold your hand and pull you back but hesitating as if he shouldn’t. Your breath catches, an odd feeling blooming in your chest, like you are falling. You look back and down, seeing and feeling his fingers graze yours in such a strangely much-too-intimate way. He doesn’t stop, fingers brushing and winding through yours. You can’t help the way yours start to move around his in the now heavy silence. Your eyes raise to meet his, heart racing.

“Y/n, I—” he starts to say, voice low and gaze intense.

“EP!! Where the hell you at, man?” Red shouts from the hallway, startling you both, causing you to drop your hands as though they were suddenly on fire. As if you were caught doing something you shouldn’t.

Elvis visibly shakes himself off and crosses in front of you to open the door. It opens a crack and then he stops, turning back to you quickly, mouth open as if he wants to finish what he was trying to say. He must think better of it, though, because he just shakes his head again and sucks in his cheeks before heading out the door without another word.

You pause, frozen to the spot, as your heart thunders in your ears. Befuddled, you try and process the last few minutes, try to piece out what the hell just happened. Your hand splays on your belly, your face hot and your body warm.

You were right, you think, a lot has changed. Everything and nothing, all at once.

After that, things move quickly. With Elvis’ new knowledge, you tell Jack immediately about the baby, pulling him aside at the party. He is thrilled.

A few blissful weeks pass. You’ve been feeling okay physically, just some nausea and lightheadedness, but your nerves are still a bit on edge. The strange moment between you and Elvis the night of the party lingers in your mind, just under the surface, and every time you see him, that odd falling feeling comes over you for a moment. It doesn’t help that when he sees you, something in him changes. It’s so subtle that you doubt anyone notices; in fact, you think you could be imagining it if not for the charged, unreadable look in his eyes. But to you he seems overly attentive to your every move, protective even.

You try and chalk this weird intuition and the way your body feels up to the pregnancy. Your body is changing a little each day, and maybe this is just a part of it.

Elvis has been enjoying his few weeks at home before everything starts up for him again, and consequently, so have all of you, finding yourselves pulled back into his orbit easily. He’s travelling down to Miami soon to be on Frank Sinatra’s show and then he starts filming his next movie in April. You have mixed feelings about this, dreading him leaving so soon again, but you also think perhaps it is a good thing to be away from him considering the tricks your mind seems to be playing on you.

Tonight, he rents out the Rainbow Rollerdome for an evening of what he dubs the “Roller Skating Wars.” You, of course, will not be skating in your condition, but that certainly doesn’t stop you from putting on a cute polka dotted dress and going to observe the chaos you know will ensue.

Jack, unfortunately, stays home, struck suddenly in the afternoon with a sore throat and fever. You tell him you will stay home and take care of him, but he brushes you off and tells you he’s just going to be sleeping anyway, that you should go and have fun. He practically pushes you out the door.

When you arrive at the Rollerdome, you quickly find the girls and plant yourself in one of the big booths with a coke, some popcorn, and some candy. Your cravings for sweets have been intense this last week, and you pick delightfully at the confections as you watch everyone skate around.

Elvis has a silly grin plastered on his face as he wheels up to your table, his hair so long and fluffy on top that it bounces with him, product keeping it standing nearly straight up. On anyone else, it would look absolutely ridiculous, but with Elvis being Elvis, it just seems to highlight how incredibly handsome he’s become. Honestly, he nearly takes your breath away in his dark polo with the popped collar, his eyes electric and dancing, his face long and jaw chiseled.

At least you know that you aren’t the only one noticing the change in his looks, because the other girls seem to blush and smile more as he looms over you all, the skates putting him nearly six and a half feet tall.

“Ladies, everybody got their skates?” he drawls charmingly.

Everyone giggles and there’s a chorus of “Yes, Elvis!” as they show off their skates. For a moment, you are a bit upset that you can’t skate, but that is quickly banished by the excitement of the life growing inside you.

“Well, go on then!” he motions, and the ladies scurry, happy to be summoned.

After they clamor out of the booth, Elvis looks at you more seriously.

“No skating for you tonight, right?” he asks protectively, cobalt eyes narrowing.

Your heart does that falling thing for a moment before you respond. “Nope, feet planted firmly on the ground, thank you very much!” you smile.

He nods, pleased by this. “Where’s Jack? I haven’t seen him,” he asks, looking around.

“Oh, he’s at home, sick. Booted me out of there. I think he was annoyed at me hovering, to be honest,” you chuckle.

“You gonna be okay over here? I don’t want you to be by yourself,” Elvis says, concerned.

“Oh, I’ll come and watch you all here in a minute. My back’s bothering me a bit, so I’m fine to sit for a spell.”

“You sure you’re okay?” he asks again, brow furrowing, as if sensing something about you that you couldn’t sense yourself.

“Yes, E, I’m fine. Don’t you worry about me. Now, shoo, and go have some fun, but for god’s sake don’t go killin’ yourself or anyone else out there!” you laugh.

Elvis looks at you in that unreadable way of his for a moment, then a wide grin spreads across his face. “No promises!” he shouts as he skates away.

You let out a breath after he leaves. His presence is still overwhelming to you, no matter how much you try to logic it away, so for now you are just accepting it. Such is living a life with Elvis in it.

Your back really is starting to bother you, which you attribute to the obvious, and after a few minutes alone, you realize you would rather be around people than not. You get up from the booth, then a wave of dizziness overtakes you and you grab the edge of the table for support as you blink away the spots in your eyes.

You wonder for a moment if you might be coming down with whatever Jack has, but your throat is fine. After a moment, the wave mostly passes, so you make your way to the skating rink to watch the group from the sidelines. There are a few people on the sidelines, and you have fun making small talk and watching the antics in the rink. After a bit, most of the girls come back out as Elvis and the boys are getting pretty rough, and part of you is a little glad Jack isn’t here to get injured.

You ignore the ache in your back (it’s just something you’ll have to get used to, after all) and another wave of lightheadedness hits you as you all head back to the table. You are starting to feel distracted, your stomach churning now a bit, too, and you remind yourself that being pregnant isn’t necessarily a picnic. You feel a bit claustrophobic now, shoved in the booth with the other ladies, and excuse yourself to the restroom, thinking it might be time to go home.

Something’s wrong, you think, a feeling of dread coming over you. Forcing yourself to breathe, you remind yourself again and again that you are just pregnant and these are symptoms of that. You pause at the water fountain to drink, hoping the water might settle your stomach.

As you are bent over, someone zips behind you on skates, then suddenly you feel a hand groping your backside.

Yelping, you choke on the water and jump, turning around.

“Hey there, pretty girl,” a man you don’t recognize leers at you, way too close for comfort.

“Excuse me,” you say haughtily, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest, making your lightheadedness even worse. “I think you have me confused with someone else.”

“Naw, you’re the prettiest girl in here. Why ya all by your lonesome?” he purrs at you, the sound setting off every warning bell in your body, adrenaline clashing with your dizziness and churning stomach. He leans down, as if to try and kiss you and you push him back.

“Leave me alone!” you say, your voice raising in both volume and pitch. You try to sidestep him, but he grabs you hard and presses you into the wall. You think you might vomit all over him.

“Don’t be like that! All I want is a little kiss,” he says, one wandering hand groping your chest as his lips come at you.

“Don’t touch me! Stop it!” you shriek, trying to squirm out of his grasp as his disgusting mouth roams over your face and neck. Your body betrays you, though, your back throbbing, weakness overcoming your limbs, and you can’t fight him off. You curse the fact that the bathrooms are so far back from the rest of the group, and you pray that someone hears you.

“Get off of me!” you try to scream, but he’s trying to silence you with his hand. Panic overtakes you now as you realize this man is going to hurt you, but in your current state, you are unable to fight.

“What the fuck are you doin’?!” You hear the low growl before the horrible man boxing you in is yanked backwards and sideways, his eyes bulging in surprise. You gasp as you watch Elvis collide with the man, his momentum from how fast he must have been skating sending the man flying.

The man stumbles and rolls, flailing and falling, and Elvis looks like you’ve never seen him before as he spins around. His eyes are dark and lethal, his jaw clenching and unclenching as his chest heaves with his breath. He looks terrifying, his focus singular, and you are almost afraid for the man. Almost.

“I asked you a fucking question,” Elvis growls again, pulling the dazed man upright by his shirt. “What the fuck were you doin’ to her?!” he yells, pulling back his arm and then socking the man in the jaw so hard you can hear the crack. The man is stunned for a moment, blood beginning to seep from the corner of his mouth, but he recovers, taking a swing at Elvis.

It barely grazes him and doesn’t even phase Elvis, who seems possessed. “Don’t you ever fuckin’ touch her!” Elvis shouts, then punches the man in the face again, hard, sending him flying.

Things are happening so fast, you can barely process it. You can hardly breathe, the waves of dizziness pouring over you, making it hard to focus.

Elvis goes for the man again, and suddenly you are fearful he might kill him because he seems so blacked out with rage. Elvis hits him again and the man falls to the floor in a heap, bloody and bruised.

“Elvis, Elvis, stop!” you try to call out, but your voice is too quiet, wavering, and he is too far gone. You need to stop him before he does something he cannot take back, and you know something is wrong with you because you can’t get your body to move the way you need it to.

It’s then that a sharp, searing pain burns in your abdomen, and a primal scream bursts from your lungs. A shockwave of agony rolls through you, knocking the breath from your body. It’s so sudden and all-encompassing that you see red, and you clutch at your belly, your head spinning, fearing the worst.

The baby.

Your cry finally snaps Elvis back to reality because he’s with you in a flash, fear and concern flashing over his features, replacing the fury that was there mere seconds ago.

“Y/n! Y/n, what is it? Did he hurt you?” he gasps, looking you over as tears stream down your cheeks.

You can’t catch your breath, and your heart is beating too fast. Then, you feel hot liquid spread from your belly downwards, life spilling out of you, running down your legs. You feel sick as you look down, Elvis’ gaze following your own. That’s when you see the dark red begin to stain your dress and your stockings.

It’s over, it’s over, the baby, oh god, runs through your head, a dismal chant in your mind. You look at Elvis with resigned horror, but you are feeling so lightheaded, you can barely focus on anything. Even the pain starts to wane and feel distant. You know this isn’t normal, even for a miscarriage. Something is terribly wrong.

“No, no, no, no, no,” you hear him beg, his hands on your face, your shoulders, his eyes wild with terror now. “We need help over here!” he bellows, never taking his eyes off you.

They are so beautiful, those crystalline eyes, those dark lashes, you think absently as you begin to slump over.

You are somewhat aware of his strong arms catching you as he slides down with you to the floor. They feel so warm and comforting, you think. You blink up at him, your vision starting to dim.

“Y/n, no, don’t you dare, you stay w-w-with me, b-baby,” Elvis says in a panic, shaking you, pulling you into his lap. A sharp metallic smell permeates the air. “Somebody c-call a damn ambulance!” you hear him shout. You can hear the terror in his voice, in his stutter, and you wonder why he’s so scared. You’ve never heard him this scared.

“Elvis?” you whisper. You try to keep your eyes open, but it’s so hard.

“Yeah, b-b-baby?” his voice shudders. You can feel his chest heaving as he presses you into him, rocking you, tucking your head under his. He always has to be moving, his energy always vibrating around him.

“I feel so strange…” you say, and you do. You’re aware of the pain but it feels so far away. Everything feels far away except for the heat of Elvis, which feels like a blanket around you. With the warmth pouring out of you, you start to feel cold.

“I-I-I know, baby. Come on, you stay awake, now,” he says in your ear as your eyes start to close. He shakes you again. You force them to flutter open. You think whatever is happening must be really bad if he’s so scared.

“Tell Jack I…I love him,” you breathe quietly, just in case.

“You tell him yourself, damnit,” Elvis chokes out, pulling you in closer.

“Thanks for…being…my friend…so good to me,” you say, but it’s not enough. You can’t seem to get the right words out, your mouth filling with cotton. You bring your shaking fingers up to his cheek, your face is buried in his neck, his smell surrounding you. He smells so nice. He feels so good wrapped around you. You’re not nervous to be near him anymore, all of that seems so silly now. Your hand drifts and you feel his full lips under your fingertips. They really are as soft as they look.

You can’t keep your eyes open anymore and blackness starts to swallow you, your hand falling onto his chest, but you feel unusually calm.

“No, no, no! Oh, God, don’t—please don’t go. I-I love you, y/n, please, I love y…” Elvis whispers pleadingly in your ear.

His quiet, startling confession fades away and is the last thing you hear before the world goes completely dark and silent.

Elvis at the Rainbow Rollerdome, March 19th, 1960

Taglist:

@atombombbibunny @yesimwriting @uselessbutinteresting @mirandastuckinthe80s @dark-as-love

@domaniquessidehoe @im-lame-irl @allybrooke05 @hangmanswhore

@jazmin2211 @kvcssghbjbcd @coldonexx @dudinhahoff @whatstruthgottodowithit @tiredbuthappy @amiets2 @saintmagx

@kvcssghbjbcd @butlersluvbot @babydollie43 @vainbimbo @meladollsims @wstelandbaby @dre6ming @normatural @ash-omalley @xcallmetaniax @galvz-42 @thejezebel @fullmetal-falcon @robinismywife @dre6ming @seaweedbrain00 @amiets2 @mslizziesblog @heisatroubleinapinksuit @calusussss @dont-feel-so-good-peter @rainydayz101 @pizzaisrelationshipgoals

@liaaacantwrite @kittenlittle24 @kaitaesupremacy @butler-trouble @eliseinmemphis @russian-soft-bitch @tattywood

@sassanoe @re3kin @thella @suspiciousmidge @hiddlepiddlediddlewiddle @carolinesbookworld

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beelmons · 2 years

Text

Christmas like no other - Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: after a blizzard messes up the plane schedules, you're stuck on Christmas Eve at the airport. Fortunately, you run into Spencer, however his reason to be stranded is a lot more serious than yours.

Tags: Light angst, comfort, fluff

A/N: Wrote this one as part of the comfort challenge (it was so much fun) by @imagining-in-the-margins,

People who enjoy travelling seem to have their lives together. Apparently never out of money, visiting only the most beautiful places, and meeting the most interesting of people. What they never tell you about, though, is the time wasted at customs, the horrible nights of sleep at the airports and, of course, the never-ending pain of having your flight moved, or worse, cancelled.

You stared at the painful blue screen for what seemed like an eternity, checking over and over to confirm that your eyes were not deceiving you. They weren’t, that was your flight number, your airline, and your destination with the word “CANCELLED” spelled in bright red typography. December 24th, the worst yet only day you were available to travel due to your round-the-clock work at the BAU. You were going home, as tradition marked, to spend with your family, but even if it wasn’t the year event you enjoyed the most, it was certainly better than spending it alone at the airport, with every store closed, and caged in due to the thick winter blizzard that decided to, rather literally, rain on your parade.

You figured you would look for shelter somewhere around the terminal. To your demise, the only living creatures that were up and about were the equally miserable airport desk workers, a couple of foreigners in the same situation as you, and Spencer Reid in the corner. Hold on, was that right? As you scanned the area you spotted a familiar figure in the background, crouched over a book while sitting on the cold tile floor with nothing but his trusty leather bag laying by his side.

“No way!” you yelled from across the area as you walked in his direction “What are you doing here, Reid?”

The mention of his name took him aback, and his eyes and ears were battling to see what he would process first: your voice or your smiling face. You could see the utterly confused expression that had taken over him, and it wasn’t until you were just a few steps from where he was seated that he realized who he was looking at.

“Hey!” he yelled back with excitement. After a second, he rushed to stand up and wrap his arms around you in a tight embrace. The warmth of his body was soothing, and so you happily returned the gesture. You did notice, however, that it was a little tighter and longer than usual, the same way you would grip a plank of wood if you were stranded in the sea. “What are you doing here?” he asked once he pulled back.

“I asked first. Was your flight cancelled, too?” you mentioned.

You observed how his lips pursed at your words, yet his head nodded in agreement to the question you shot at him. “Haven’t been able to get a cab because of the storm. I figured I would wait around until the streets were clear.” He answered.

“Stuck on the same boat, huh?” you said with a disappointed expression, the sentence was mostly to yourself, but a smile crept through his tired face, and for a second you thought maybe the situation wasn’t so bad. You looked at the time, 9:00 p.m., no news from the weather forecast which meant the blizzard would probably continue for a while “might as well find a way to get the best out of the situation, don’t you think?”

His eyes narrowed questioningly “what do you mean?” he inquired.

“Let’s make ourselves a Christmas Eve dinner!” you blurted out the proposal, ridiculous as it might have sounded, without much thought, but the mere idea of turning such a disastrous night into something at least tolerable began to make you bubble with excitement.

“I already took a lap around the terminal. Because of the holidays, and the raging blizzard, everything is closed.” he argued “There are only vending machines.”

“Then vending machine dinner it is.” you told him resolutely “Come on, let’s do this, I’ll take the west, you take east, find whatever looks appetizing, dinner, entrées, dessert, drinks, and meet me back here in fifteen minutes, deal?”

You didn’t give him enough time to agree with your proposal before you were darting towards the nearest food section. Unfortunately for you, you didn’t catch the stunned, what-the-hell-just-happened, adorable expression that he made as you disappeared from his sight, at last, he complied to your suggestion and went out on a retrieval adventure of his own.

You gathered what you thought would sound good: couple of ham and cheese baguettes, some salt and vinegar chips, grape juice to simulate wine, and chocolate bars for dessert. It made you feel silly for a second, pretending to have a Christmas dinner with a coworker in the middle of a desolate airport, but the overwhelming joy of that person being Spencer Reid shortly overtook those feelings.

Spencer and you always had that will-they-won’t-they dynamic. Everyone around the office knew, hell, even the two of you knew, but life was never that easy, or kind, to allow the two of you to meet in such a way. The romantic feelings were unspoken, sure, but the fraternal love was there. He had your back, you had his, physically and emotionally, and the intimacy that had emerged from sharing difficult field tasks with him created an unwavering bond, one that you would put before any romantic interest, even if that meant never knowing what could have been.

Reid was struggling on his own way, just his luck that out of anyone in the office youwould have been the one to meet him here. Ironically, if he were to have that fairytale ‘you find me when I’m at my lowest, and you make it better without knowing’ moment, he always figured, and wished, it would have been with you; and now here you were, showing up out of the blue when his heart felt the most lonely. He did not believe in fate, but probabilities sure were being kind to him.

Salted potato chips, bunch of packaged chocolate muffins, some milk, and a salad bowl that did not look fresh even though the machine had stated specifically the contrary. He hugged everything together to his chest and headed back to the spot you had both agreed on. He could see you at the end of the wall, you had pulled out, of your suitcase, a fluffy coat to lay it on the floor, simulating a picnic blanket. There was a fulfilling sensation in his chest as he did so, followed by a wave of sorrow that he couldn’t quite describe. Without desire to uncover what that emotion might be, he decided to head over to where you were seating.

The two of you laid your gatherings on the fabric beneath you and began to inspect the elegant selection of meals.

“Oh, good, you found actual food” he said as he grabbed one of the sandwiches.

“This has got to be the darkest lettuce I have ever seen, there are so many brown spots.” you had taken the transparent plastic bowl to try and figure out what was inside it.

“Right?” he let out a chuckle “those black spots are caused by the release of ethylene, which is technically not harmful for the body and merely a cosmetic issue, but I still think we should take as many leaves as we can out of the salad, however it’s still fit for human consumption”

You looked at him with doubtful eyes, but immediately decided to believe him “hey, you’re the chemistry PhD, if you say it won’t kill us, then I put my faith in you” as you let the bowl back down, another odd-looking item on his side caught your attention “what’s the milk for?”

“Oh!” he let out with excitement “I was watching a molecular food documentary the other day and I saw one of the chefs make mashed potatoes out of some milk, crushed salted potato chips, and butter, so I thought I might try it. Did you know your average potato chip has basically all the same ingredients as a basic mashed potato side dish? Minus the milk, of course.”

He noticed your dumbfounded expression and laughed quietly, immediately he made a signal with his hand for you to wait and see what he was about to do. You watched, with obvious distrust, as he began to crush the chips inside the still sealed package, he took his time to have the pieces as small as possible, and after a couple minutes you saw, with horror, how he poured some of the milk inside the bag.

“Have a taste” he offered the open bag in your direction.

“Why don’t you go first, and once I know it’s safe, I’ll take a bite” you playfully answered him.

He faked an offended expression and took the fork included with the salad bowl to gather some of his creation and slip it into his mouth. “It’s good” he said with an unwavering expression.

You raised an eyebrow, your attention fully focused on trying to read his micro expressions, the second he showed disgust you were going to be out of his little experiment, but to your surprise he kept the same stern face the entire time. Curious enough about the results, you decided to mimic his actions, the fork soon landing some of the yellowish product in your mouth.

You made a grimace the second it touched your tongue. “No, it’s not!” you scoffed in his direction.

“It’s not.” he let out another laugh while watching you struggle to get rid of the taste with just a grape-flavored juice box.

You quarreled light-heartedly about the invention for a bit and then your conversation went into all types of directions while you dined. The show you were both watching at the same time, the weird fetish of last case’s unsub, the inappropriate thing Garcia said at Rossi’s a week ago during the department’s Christmas Party. You could talk about anything, and everything, and you loved that so.

“By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask, did you drop your luggage off somewhere? Haven’t seen you with a suitcase.” in between chatter you decided to ask.

Guilt washed over you when you witnessed all sense of brightness disappear from his face, a sorrowful and trouble expression replacing it. You knew your comment had hit a nerve, without you being aware said nerve even existed, and had brought up a memory he was trying to avoid your entire night.

“The one I brought with me probably just landed in Las Vegas.” he admitted, his sight dropped to fix on his fumbling fingers instead.

“What are you talking about?” you spurt out with a surprised tone.

“I didn’t really miss my flight; it was actually at 4.” It took him a second, and some clearing of his throat, to continue talking, his eyes never looking back up to yours “I checked-in my bag, and I was ready to go through security, that’s when my mom’s nurse called. She was having a really bad day with the, uh, with the Alzheimer’s, and she suggested it was better if I didn’t see her today, if I waited until tomorrow to visit.” His tone was unstable, he was struggling to keep his emotions at bay.

“Spencer, I’m so sorry.” you offered him a heartfelt sentiment.

His head finally raised to be able to lock sights with you. “She put her on the phone, she couldn’t remember the day it was, or that we even made plans to spend it together, because she didn’t recognize my voice. She didn’t know who I was.” his voice had traces of shame in them. “I couldn’t get on the plane, I didn’t know where else to go, I knew you were travelling, Hotch is with his family, and so is everyone else; I just sat down, frozen, and by the time I tried to go back home the streets had already been closed down.”

You took a second to move the wrappers and containers out of the way, you would take care of them later, to be able to sit right next to him, your shoulders pressing together. Your back rested against the cold wall of the building, and your hand darted out to take his in a firm, supportive grip.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked in a soft tone, your head tilted to look up at him.

He returned the gaze “It’s an incurable, degenerating disease, what is there to talk about?” he snarked.

“How it makes you feel, and how isolating that can be.” you knew to be patient when he was hurting, he could get cold and piercing, but it was momentary, his kind-hearted nature always thrived at the end.

You didn’t receive an answer right away, instead his eyes seemed to scan your face, you felt a light squeeze on your hand, and watched as his nose began to redden. “I just thought I had a bit more time.”

Your free limb reached to grab the nape of his neck and gently guide him towards your shoulder. He nested his sobbing face in the crook of your neck, and you could hear the quiet gasps he was letting out against your blouse. You left him there, your head resting against his, your hand unmoving as your thumb rubbed the back of his soothingly, just allowing him to let out what he had probably been holding for a very long time, there on that Christmas Eve, in that nearly empty airport terminal.

“Attention to all passengers, the meteorology services have restored air traffic, please refer to your airlines for inquires about cancelled flights”.

You didn’t notice when you dozed off, and the loud announcement on the intercom woke the two of you up. You looked around in a daze and blushed when you noticed your fingers intertwined together; you must have done that in your sleep. You looked at the time once again, it was midnight. Gently, you tugged on your friend’s hand, unwilling to let go unless he did so.

“Hey, Reid,” you started, trying to get his still very much sleepy brain going “Merry Christmas.”

A wide, tired smile appeared on his face and he returned the tug without letting go either “Merry Christmas.” neither of you moved an inch from your places, your gazes locked together, just enjoying the fact that, even if you didn’t spend it with the people you expected, you still got to enjoy Christmas with someone you loved by your side. “Thank you for dinner, and for everything you have done for me, and I just don’t mean tonight. I hope to, one day, be able to repay you.”

“Nonsense. You would do the same for me.” you tried to diminish the praising.

“I would do anything for you.” his serious expression sent a tingling sensation toward your stomach, and you could feel your face redden. “Come on,” he continued as he stood up, using his still tangled hand to help you “you might still catch a flight home.”

“What will you do, though? the only way out here is flying. The streets are probably going to be closed until morning.” you argued as you stood up.

“I don’t see any point in going to Nevada now.” his tone had gotten back to normal “I’ll just spend the rest of the night here.”

“Or…” your tone was slightly suggesting “do you want to spend Christmas morning with my family?”

The widening of his eyes let you know that the proposal took him by surprise, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious about the people that you grew around “I-I don’t even have a suitcase.” hestuttered a bit when he answered.

“Pretty sure you would fit in my dad’s old clothes” you joked.

He took a second to consider, even if you were just kidding, spending the rest of his free time with you did seem like a nice way to celebrate the holidays. “Okay.” he finally let out.

“Okay?!” you asked in awe “Hell yes!” you subsequently yelled out.

“I didn’t know I made such great company” he said with a chuckle “You sure it’s a good idea?”

“Oh, Spencer, you don’t know, you are saving my life right now.” you pretended to tear up “This year, it will be my cousin getting the ‘when are you bringing home a man?’ questions.” you began to skip towards the check-in desk, mind you with your suitcase and coat left behind.

Reid shook his head amusedly as he gathered your stuff to follow after you, his smile not once leaving his expression. Maybe, just maybe, he would take this opportunity to finally make his move.

#mentioningmargins #i just said this morning that i wouldn't do this challenge and now look at me #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #mine

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caterpillarinacave · 1 year

Note

Hi! I'm the same Henry anon from yesterday, thank you for your answer!

If you actually want to elaborate more on your headcanons and you have time to do so, I'd love to read more! I was especially curious to know if there is a specific explanation for the headcanon about the way his sleeping habits changed? (And in the tags you mentioned angst?) And in general if you ever want to write an hour long rant I'll happily read it!

Anyway, if you've read until here, bye, and thanks for taking the time to read all of this!

Anon, I am SO sorry, this took so long to answer!!! I do try to be timely, apperances aside.

You know how you have to invite vampires inside for them to come into your house? Yeah, when it comes to talking I'm like one of those vampires. I, of course, would like to talk for hours and am ready to talk for hours,, however I will not start talking until someone invites me to. I like to wait until I have a specific request from someone, then I begin my speech.

Anyway, all that aside, someone has now asked me, so buckle up buttercups, because i am about to TALK

Just a warning, these headcannons get a little more angsty, and therefore a little more dark

Regarding your first question, dear anon, basically, disabilities are exhausting. Physically and emotionally, even if you've got it under control, most every disabled people are constantly tired.

Everything is automatically more physically strenuous.

I, for example, slept really lightly for a really long time. In a lot of ways I still do, but once my more physical disabilities (even though I have them very well under control) showed up the actual want to sleep shoots way up.

You can totally stay up all night working on something and be just fine, but once you lay down and your brain gets the little “yep, we get to sleep now” message, it JUMPS on it. You might've had iffy sleep schedules, but once the physical aspect is added to the mix, it’s really hard to convince your brain to get up when everything is so tired if you stir in the middle of the night. After a while your brain doesn't work anywhere near as hard to try and wake you up, and suddenly you're totally down to fall asleep on the carpet and sleep there for six and a half hours.

Same applies for Henry.

It's exhausting to get around as a disabled person and he's just… tired.

The weeks following the battle of idris were NOT a fun time lol. Didn't seem awful from an outside POV, but physically speaking Henry was having an awful, awful time, and emotionally Charlotte was having the go of it.

He’s in charge of all his mobility aids. Made a lot of them, with less input from the silent brothers then youd think he would need.I mean, shadowhunters are ridiculously unhelpful (seriously, how was he the first one to come up with a wheelchair. how.) Logistically speaking, he has multiple chairs, but a favorite.

He has just got to eat more. He’s so awful at keeping track of time, forgets to eat constantly. and is pretty much 0% body fat. He usually gets away with it, but he’s got nothing to fall back on if he’s sick or injured, which was kind of a problem after the battle of idris.

He used to be a decent piano player, but most of what he enjoyed playing relayed on a peddle, and while he probably could, it wasn't ever worth finding a way to make the pedal work for him, so he just kinda moved on.

This one's more canon but he had absolutely no friends. Like, at all growing up. He was lucky if they ignored him instead of actively harassing him but like??? He doesn't really care??? He’s just like, “kay yeah, whatever”, then grows up and continues to not have any shadowhunter friends but it seems like warlocks think he’s really fucking cool, so is that a win?

You know how there's the persistent theme of Charlotte feeling guilty for the events of TID? Henry’s kind of in the same boat. Any one as pedantic as me remembers the line at the end of CA;

Going off the book, he was the one who told Mortmain about the Pyxis, he was the one technically protecting Jessamine when she died, left the woman he loved to suffer in silence because he can't figure the most obvious things, his list of failures miles long, his presence causing so much annoyance to everyone around him.

How could he be so stupid, so blind? How many problems had he caused just by being who he was?

Who would be alive, who would have suffered so much less if he had just been a little smarter, a little quicker, a little less like himself?

He’s spent his whole life being told that he’s stupid, makes everything worse, everything is his fault, and he’s a burden on everyone around him, and there’s these things that might be his fault (no, nothing was his fault, Henry forgive yourself please-) you can not tell me they arent weighing on him a little bit.

To pull from a discarded WIP of mine, “...in her head, Charlotte’s hands were stained red, and in his, Henry could bathe in the blood of the shadowhunters he’d killed.”

Genuinely hates staying in bed. It just drives him insane to sit in one room doing nothing. It’s bearable to go sit in your pajamas in the living room, but doing the same thing in a bedroom?

Insufferable. Unmanageable. Impossible. Horrific. How could you possibly stay in such a boring place that long. What do you mean I could die. I’ll die in a different room thank you very much.

He’s really good at chess, but doesnt really get the big deal about winning the game. As in, he doesn't even remotely get why someone would get upset about losing, or why it’s if you want someone to like you you shouldn't beat them in five minutes. Charlotte eventually told him that some people just hate losing. “Great, got it” he said, then proceeded to just ask people if they wanted to win or not. This is not good for political relations.

Cue the Clave conversations;

“Do you play? I’d be honored to play a round with you, Mr. Fairchild.”

“I’d be delighted to. How would you like to play?”

“Beg pardon?”

“Would you like me to try and beat you, pretend to try and beat you but purposefully lose, or blatantly lose?”

“...”

“:)”

====

“Henry, darling, let’s go over this in a different way.”

“Literally what did I do???”

It’s canon that he had a lot of self esteem issues when he was younger, but it's one of the things I wish CC had looked more into. (I’ve got a fic about this exact thing, but don't know if i'll ever post it lol)

There have been a few times when he’d had a particularly bad day and finds himself a little closer to the edge of a bridge than he should be, and shaking off how easy it would be to die right then. In a couple seconds, he could never bother anyone again.

It's really an intrusive thought, but he just can't help but think how much better it might be for everyone if he wasn't here. The shadowhunters really genuinely don't like him, and canonically treat him horribly, and for him it seems like all he does for Charlotte, who he loved more than anything else in the world, is make her life harder.

When he’s coming back from an assignment it would be so easy to drop everyone else off at the institute, take a horse out (Balios can find his way back), and just not come back. At least not breathing, that is.

He doesn’t act, of course. After all, the Institute is a busy place, and he often is needed for errands or assignments. It would be cruel to leave them to navigate with one less pair of hands. Will and Jessamine really are a handful, and Jem is… well, it wouldn't be fair to make a scene when the focus should be on them. Besides, if Charlotte is at all fond of him, his death would be more upsetting than his blunders.

Right?

#i love my headcannons #if all yall have thoughts and questions i love then #tw suicide mention #i guess?#seriously though anon sorry that took like a wee #k #tid #tlh #tsc #henry fairchild #henry branwell #the infernal devices #headcannons #charlotte fairchild #charlotte branwell

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dreamswap-crackhead-council · 2 years

Note

Maybe y’all should learn how to block people instead of airing your drama in fandom tags. Being called a pedophile is a very serious accusation, and you have every right to be upset, but going “fuck you” to an entire fandom because of some drama from mods of a past blog is ridiculous.

Can't wait until you've realized I've already blocked all of those people and they're still harassing me on my personal blog and this blog, alongside the ds defunct council when it ran. Hope you have eyes to know that that message I got was anonymous too.

In fact, here's the blocklist I had set up before this little weasley cunt decided to show up in MY blog, barge into MY space, and call ME a pedo.

note: majority of these people in the old image have had their name cleared for the most part? so i changed the image. Pls kindly do not harass the people in the old dni, just like King Fox/Foxxism - do not harass him! DO NOT HARASS HIM!

Clearly they're still getting support somewhere, and whether that's from Kai and Frey, or the IBVS gang, or some random fuckwads with an iq of a sponge and the usefulness of dirty soap, or they're doing it cause they think they can get away with it in this fandom, clearly whatever I've done so far (which was: generally keep it in this circle) has not deterred them from harassing me, so I guess I gotta reach for bigger and bigger guns.

You know what's also serious? King Fox going around into people's DMs and whispering to them about all the shit I supposedly did, and not allowing me to tell my side of the story. But the second I exclaim what happened in a public space, apparently I'm the bad guy. By speaking out about the abuse I'm going through, I'm "causing too much of a ruckus".

Imagine telling that to the victims of Glitchtale's creators, who've undoubtedly have experienced that already. Imagine having the GALL on telling that to the people who were sexually harassed and raped by others in the #MeToo movement.

Imagine telling this to any victim, as if this fandom is a religious place and I need to keep hush-hush about the abuse the pastors and popes put me through.

You know what that sounds like to me? That sounds like victim blaming. Oh, don't hold the people harassing me to their actions, it's my fault apparently for not liking that. Oh, it's my fault apparently for being sensitive about sweammare or jmv in the past, even if the shit in that hit a little close to home. How dare I tell a snot-nosed kid to stop fucking being a bitch to me, I must be an absolute fucking predator aren't I? /sarcasm

It's amazing too. Hey Mod Smoke, remember when we used to date before you realized you were aroace, and Frey and their ex-datemate kept claiming to others that I must be abusing you because you're ace and I'm dating you? Oh, but if I mention that, I must be rocking the boat, as if those accusations weren't still standing to this day for some people who heard that from them, because bitches would rather sweep that shit under the rug or "well acktually 🤓" explaining it away rather then apologize for their fucking shenanigans and tell others they were wrong, even if that have or had real-life consequences for me.

Or that time I was excluded from the fandom at the ripe age of 15 with a mom who "homeschooled" me so the only friends I even had were in that fandom, and then I was proceeded to be called acephobic, and now years later Frey claims to "not remember", even though I'm the one with the disorder that causes memory lapses, so what is their fucking excuse? Amazing how universally, bullies don't remember their bullying, and yet when the victims call them out, they're making a fuss and "they were just a child, they need to move on" as if bullying doesn't leave people scarred for many years to come, and that apparently because being a kid excuses every single action in the past. You know who's also still a kid (16-17 range) as far as I know? King Fox. You going to excuse his shitty and vile behavior because he's a kid still too?

I'm so glad I have better friends then the lot of you. Might I also note the closer circle of my friends are also ace, and if any of them thought I was an acephobic asshole, I'm sure they would have ditched me after four damn years?

This fandom is a fucking fermented vat for abuse to spring up, and it's fucking epidemic. This fandom has excused shitty actions from people who should have been held liable. Clearly you don't remember the shit Kai and Frey did to another 15 year old (not me, shockingly enough), who they literally called a reverse pedophile, or the bullshit they said about Joku when they hopped on that train of "joku bad us good". Huh, it's almost as if they seem to target the people who happen to also have autism, too!

I'm so tired of people who don't even bother apologizing.

Does any of this make you uncomfortable? Then good, because clearly that means I'm doing my job right in showing you the ugly heart of this shitty place outside the area I've carved from the flesh.

And just because I was an extra good boy for Christmas, I'll fucking treat myself to tagging this in the fandom again, cause clearly those in the back need to hear it better.

And just to smear it in your face: go fuck yourself, anon. You have no say or power here.

#mod felis #anon ask #anon hate #dreamswap #ibvs

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stevethehairington · 2 years

Note

20 and 50 for the ST asks

helllooo!! i am SOOO sorry for such a late response omg.

i hope i got the right ask game here lol but i'm preeeety sure i did.

20. favorite emotional moment?

i definitely have to go with robin's coming out scene for this one. there are several other good emotional moments throughout the show, but this one really takes the cake for me because it's just SUCH a good one!!! and it's not very often that we get a gem of a coming out scene like this one, it's just so well done, and i could really go on and on about the scene. PLUS it sort of solidified thee platonic soulmates, like, from this point on they are IT for each other in that sense, yknow? and steve and robin's friendship is truly one of my favorite things about the show.

50. top five absolute fav things about stranger things in general?

ooh hm well i suppose:

the friendships!! there is such a huge focus on friendship in this show and i LOVED that so much. i feel like the show has sort of strayed a little bit from this in the later seasons, but oh man, season 1? that shit HITS, the friendships there are SO good, they're SO strong. like the party? i love that little group of kids!! they're so ride or die already!! they clearly love each other a lot! and then when el and max join the group, they become Part Of The Team too and i love them and i love their specific friendship too! and steve and robin my favorite dynamic duo!!! there is TRULY no other platonic soulmate best friendship out there like theirs, it's something special. and also the kids' friendships with steve (especially dustin!!!) it's SO good!!

the vibes are just so good too. like i was born after the 80s lol but there is still SUCH a sense of nostalgia with this show, again especially in that first season! there's just something about a bunch of kids riding around on bikes fighting monsters that hits different yknow?

steve's character arc!!! steve is probably my favorite character of the whole show and just the way they did his arc is one of my absolute favorite things ever because they did it so WELL. like, asshole popular jock who realizes that he's wrong and realizes that he fucked up and actually puts in the effort to fix what he did and to make things right and to mean it too, that's just SO GOOD. THAT is how you do a redemption arc. i just love steve so much, he deserves his whole entire own bullet point here lol.

i feel like if i give steve a whole entire bullet point for himself i HAVE to give eddie a whole entire bullet point too because that man.... well, he changed the whole entire game. like i've said it before but i was just a casual fan before s4 - watched when new seasons came out, talked with friends about it, but i was not part of the fandom. like i didn't look through the tags, or reblog a whole lot outside of the occasional gifset or smth, and i certianly didn't write or create any of my own content/hcs/etc. but THEE second that eddie munson walked onto that screen he stole my god damn life from me. that guy dragged me over the edge of that boat and right through the watergate with him because once i saw him i was HOOKED and i did not look back. so yeah, it's entirely eddie's fault that i am here today and i adore every single thing about him and what he stands for and who he is and i wont get into it because this post will really never end but i am SO disappointed with what they did with him and how they chose to *end his character arc (*clown shoes are FIRMLY on tho bc i am honk honk fully onboard with the we have not seen the last of eddie munson train soooo lol).

the absolutely incredible fantastic wonderful beautiful amazing inspiring awesome ridiculous epic EVERYTHING that everyone has created in response to this show. i love stranger things, i do, but we all know that there are certain things - characters, relationships, arcs, plotlines, etc. - that have missed the mark, that could have been better, that could have gone a different way. and it is the fans, it is the writers, it is the artists, it is the gif makers, it is the editors, it is EVERYONE who puts their heart and soul into creating for this fandom that fills in those gaps, that fixes things, that takes these characters we know and love and breathes even more life into them, takes them to new places, lets them explore things they deserve to explore. i will forever be grateful to everyone in this fandom because of this!!! it's incredible and it's the best part of the whole show, truly.

#asks #eddieslonglostnipple #stranger things

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cyborg-franky · 3 years

Note

Helloooo Franky! ☆ I'm a sucker for AU prompts so I've never clicked a link faster in my life lol soooooo may I ask soulmate AU or room mate AU with either Sanji or Ace, please? hehe thank you! Hope you are having a nice day/night when you read this („• ᴗ •„)

my looove! here is a cute little soulmate AU <3

Ace x GN Reader SFW Prompt: soulmate AU [First words you and your soul mate say to each other are marked on your body] Word Count: 667

“It’s so stupid.” Ace mumbled as he looked at the words on his wrist, squinting with a grimace on his face as he turned his wrist around to read the full thing.

“I admit, it ain’t the nicest one. “Thatch hummed and held Ace’s arm looking over the words that had appeared overnight, he chuckled a little which earned him a scowl.

Ace snatched his arm back and let his bangle fall back over it, leaning back in his seat, heavy boots propped up on the table until Marco walked over and pushed them off, almost causing Ace to fall backwards on his chair if he hadn’t been caught by the chef.

“Still complaining about it yoi?” Marco asked as he sat across from the flame user.

“You guys are lucky, yours are nice!” Ace mumbled and tipped his hat down over his sulking face.

“I don’t know why it bothers you so much, not the first badly done tat you got, Matchstick.” Thatch pointed out, nodding to his arm. Ace opened and closed his mouth, sulking.

This hadn’t been where you expected your life to come to an end. your crew hadn’t been the nicest when they decided to ditch you on a raft in the middle of the sea. A bottle of water and enough food for a day. Sitting there and contemplating what your next move was, hoping a seaking would just come along and eat you in one gulp to put you out of the impending misery you faced.

That was until you heard a strange sound, something was moving fast and heading straight for you. The boat was small, a man standing on it, waved firing out the back of it.

Ace had seen you in the distance, aiming the striker in your direction, slowing down before the current caused by his ship and his power was enough to rock the raft you were clinging to. You blinked when the handsome man tipped his hat, grinning brightly as he offered you his hand.

“Need some help?” He asked as you got to your feet, wincing at how much the wooden planks you called a lifeboat rattled under your movements.

You thought nothing about the words Ace had spoken, the soulmate mark that wrapped around your ankle was so vague it could have been anyone. ‘Need some help?’ you’d always needed help; it was a shitty and ridiculous hint to go by and you’d always ignored it.

“I don’t know, can I trust a man who comes out of nowhere in the middle of the sea and wearing a hat like that?” it was meant to be a half-joke but the way he gawked at you as his hand was still outreached towards you.

Ace couldn’t form words, so shocked at the chance meeting, the random recuse out at sea would be with his soulmate. He laughed just as awkwardly as you now, turning his wrist around and showing you.

“Oh…”

“Yeah..” Ace chuckled watching as you looked sheepish, taking his hand he pulled you onto the striker.

“I promise I’m just really bad at first impressions” You didn’t let go of his hand, this felt right, his hand in yours. He didn’t seem to move away either, just standing there with a smile on his face as he took off his hat, resting his forehead against yours.

“Me either, trust me.” Ace thought back to all the times he’d tried to murder the man he called ‘father’ now.

“Hopefully we can make a better second impression with one another huh?” You suggested, feeling his arms wrap around you, a mumble of agreement against your neck.

You smiled, you could tell he was someone who’d never expected to meet his soulmate, his emotions all over the place as he just held you. It felt nice, felt right just like all the stories of meeting your soulmate would tell you. It was an offbeat messy start but not every love story was flawless.

TAG LIST:

@fire-fist-ann @rivvd-art @santoru @mimi-ya @simp4ace @aifozu

@useless-potatho @iloveportgasdace @smoleeveewrites @strawhat-bast @gonuclear @saisei-no-hano @whisplion @my-muses-in-op @undercoverweeeb @slut4animedilfs @acesmarigold @sanjithesimp @aces-sweetheart

@sugxrslushy @kaizokuwritings @bepoprotectionsquad @thatsprettycoolbro@whisplion @ace-no-isha

#portugas d ace #one piece x reader #one piece reader insert #portgas d ace #sfw #gender neutral reader #one piece x you #portgas d. ace #portgas d ace x reader #portugas d ace x reader #ace x you #ace one piece x reader #ace x yn #fire fist ace x reader

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bangtanloverboys · 3 years

Text

deep waters (ii) // myg & jjk

summary - there’s something bothering yoongi, he knows that it sounds crazy, but he doesn’t know what else to think. wanting to ease his mind (and maybe just prove him wrong), you go back out on the waters to try and find some answers

pairing - marine biologist!yoongi x female!reader, eventual reader x siren!jeongguk

genre - sci-fi, drama, fluff, eventual smut; siren au

word count - 2.9k

warnings - minor argument, scientific inaccuracies bc i am not a scientist

author’s note - here we are again for chapter two! please let me know what you guys think!

tagged - @little-fluffle

series masterlist

One of the many things you both loved and hated about Yoongi was his incessant need to be right. No matter how ridiculous the claim might’ve been, he would rather argue with the wall than admit he was wrong. At some points you thought it was amusing, always finding his face when he ‘won’ the argument quite adorable. Other times you wanted to roll your eyes and beg him to let it go.

Currently, you don't know exactly what to feel about him.

The morning after the accident, you awoke to an empty bed. Normally, when Yoongi woke up first he’d join you back in bed, cup of coffee in hand. What you expected after last night however was for him to still be in bed with you, deserving to sleep in after going through such an event. But no, the bed was cold. Peeling open your eyes, you glanced around the open space of your shared home with Yoongi, finding him seated at his desk, his eyes glued to the computer screen. Quietly, you pushed yourself out of bed, walking over to him. Once behind him, you wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face into the crook of it.

“Good morning,” he greeted you, his voice vibrating through you.

Closing your eyes, you inhaled deeply, breathing in his scent. Instead of the scent of his body wash, your senses were flooded with the smell of sea water mixed in with his sweat. In your mind's eye, you could still see that moment where his head vanished beneath the waves. You were so relieved he was alive, you don’t know what you would’ve done if you’d lost him.

“Come back to bed,” you mumbled into his skin.

“One sec, I’m researching.” Typical Yoongi. He almost died the night before and he throws himself back into work like nothing happened.

You groaned as you pulled your face from his neck. Eyes blurry, you squint at the screen, trying to get a glimpse of what he’s looking for. It takes a second for your eyes to focus, but in big blue letters, the screen reads MERMAIDS. You withheld a scoff. Sure at some point in their life, every little girl has believed that mermaids are real. Hell, that was one of the first things you wanted to discover as a marine biologist when you were a kid. But overtime, you knew that they weren’t real. And Yoongi should’ve known that too. “You swallowed too much seawater.”

“I saw something, Y/N,” he said, repeating his words from last night.

Once the boat was docked and Dr. Kim was rushed up to check up on him, he said nothing. Didn’t say anything at all on the ride home either, so you assumed you must’ve misheard him. Yet here he was, standing firm in his statement.

“Yoongi. . .” You sighed. “Mermaids aren’t real. You know this.”

“And you also know that the majority of the ocean is unexplored,” he countered, pulling his body away to look you in the eye. “So there’s always a possibility.”

“Yes, I know. But this is mermaids we’re talking about. Sit on rocks, brush their long hair and lure sailors to their deaths with their singing. Those aren’t real.” You couldn’t believe you were explaining mythological creatures to a 28 year old man.

“Maybe not exactly that,” he returned, “but the legend had to have come from somewhere.”

“Manatees, the legend came from manatees.”

“I know it sounds crazy-”

“Because it is crazy! Yoongi, if you’re to talk to every marine biologist, they’d all agree that mermaids aren’t real!” You interrupted, fully pulling away from him entirely. “Your brain was running low on oxygen, I don’t know what else to tell you-”

“Y/N, I know what I saw!” He shouted. It wasn’t often Yoongi would raise his voice and in that moment, he regretted it. He watched as a look of hurt fell across your face before you turned on your heel, making your way towards the bathroom.

“I’m going to take a shower.” Was all you said as you shut the door, the lock clicking into place.

Yoongi knew it sounded insane, but there was no other explanation for what he saw. Lifting up his leg, he pulled back the edge of his sweats. Etched into his skin were five long scratches. He knew if he was to wrap his palm around the marking, it would align up near perfectly to a human hand. He didn’t notice the scratch until late last night when you guys got home, and the only reason he didn’t tell you immediately was because he didn’t want to believe it. But waking up that morning, his ankle still stinging from the pain and the memory of that shadow still fresh in his mind; what other explanation was he supposed to come up with?

Turning his eyes back to the computer screen, he raked over the site again. Unfortunately, it did little to answer his inquiries about what scientific evidence there was about mermaids. All the supposed bodies were fake, and any photographic or videographic evidence was clearly photoshopped to heaven and back. With a sigh, he shut down the computer.

In the bathroom, you stood underneath the showerhead, letting the water roll down your body. Every single neuron in your brain was screaming at you that mermaids were impossible. There was no such thing at all. But the look on Yoongi’s face. . . there’s no way he would’ve yelled at you like that if he didn’t believe it.

Shutting off the water, you stepped out of the shower. You walked over to the sink, staring at yourself in the foggy mirror. “This is insane,” you muttered to yourself. And it was. Mermaids didn’t exist, no matter how much your inner child might want to believe it might be true. It was scientifically impossible.

Wrapping yourself in a towel, you open the door, spotting Yoongi at the kitchen counter, staring into his coffee mug. Clearing your throat, he looked over to you, his eyes sorrowful.

“Y/N, I shouldn’t have yelled,” he began. “And believe me, I know, I don’t wanna believe it either. But I don’t know what else to think of.”

“I get it,” you admitted. “W-would-” You almost didn’t want to offer it but you knew Yoongi was at the end of his rope, “Would going back out there help ease your mind?”

You knew it was stupid and a waste of time and money for the research center, but the only way you figured you’d be able to rest the talk of mermaids, was to go back out there. It was the last thing on your mind, seeing as you were so close to losing him last night. But the logical part of you knew that there were no mermaids out there, so it was unlikely that a repeat of last night would happen again.

Yoongi’s eyes widened at your suggestion. He couldn’t believe his ears, figuring you were going to straight out deny him from even asking about going back out at all. “Are you serious?”

“Only this one time,” you pointed at him, “and do not let anyone know about it, I do not want to get fired for using equipment for ‘mermaid hunting,’ go it?” You refused to even think of what would happen if it got out that you and Yoogni even attempted to look for mermaids. The both of you would become the laughing stock of the Scientific Community!

“Of course,” Yoongi smiled as he walked up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “One time. Thank you,” he said as he placed a kiss on your cheek.

Which is how the two of you ended up out on one of the smaller boats the following morning, setting course for where Yoongi fell overboard. Seokjin was confused on seeing you both back at work so soon, expecting you to take some time to rest up and recover from the near death experience. You excused it saying that Yoongi was just ansty to get back out on the water, cautiously, your friend accepted the reasoning.

Back in the same area, you lowered the anchor and faced Yoongi. “Well,” you raised your arms at him, “what next?”

Biting his lip, Yoongi looked around. It was a lot different in the day time, but you had refused to go back out at night. “I’ll get in some gear and dive down, see what I can find I guess.”

“You guess?” You echoed.

“I don’t know, it all happened so suddenly.” He scratched the back of his neck. “The best indicator we have would be the fish.”

“Why the fish?” A puzzled look on your face.

“I think the reason there was no fish the other night was because the-the mermaid is some sort of predator.” It was a bit difficult for Yoongi to admit he’d been hypothesizing about the mermaid, but he was a scientist so it was partially in his nature to try and come up with solutions. And it did make sense, the area was normally a high traffic area for fish and for them to suddenly disappear, the very same night he gets pulled under by some mysterious creature? It couldn’t be a coincidence.

“Alright then,” you huffed as you got ready to pull out the scuba gear. Yoongi knew you were trying to keep an open mind (which he greatly appreciated, knowing how strange this must all be), yet at the same time he could tell you would rather be anywhere else but out on the water looking for a supposed mythological creature. He couldn’t blame you, he would feel the same if the roles were reversed. But he needed answers.

Yoongi needed to know what he saw.

Fully prepped for a dive, he looked over to you. Your arms were crossed as you looked at him, gnawing on your lower lip. Meeting his eyes, a sympathetic smile graced your lips. Yoongi returned your smile as he grabbed the underwater camera, slipping the strap over his wrist.

“You have 45 minutes of air,” you informed him as he set himself up.

“Gotcha,” he nodded, setting his watch for a 45 minute timer. “Y/N,” Yoongi took your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze, “Thank you.”

“I’m not sure if I want you to find what you’re looking for,” you admitted with a sigh.

“Just wish me luck.” He winked.

With a roll of your eyes, you said, “Good luck.”

If going to the aquarium was when you knew your calling, diving had to be Yoongi’s. After one fateful scuba diving trip with his parents on a family vacation, all he ever talked about was fish, marine biology, and most importantly diving. It was quite possibly his favorite thing to do when it came to researching marine life, and it never failed to excite him.

However this time, it didn’t feel all that exciting. As he dived deeper into the ocean, a sense of dread began brewing in the pit of his stomach, telling him to return to the surface. But Yoongi was on a mission to find answers, and find answers he will, so he continued diving down.

While he was upset that he wasn’t able to convince you to let him dive at night, he was grateful for the sunlight overhead, shining through and illuminating the water surrounding him. The deeper he went, the world around him shifted from hues of blue to shades of green. Yoongi was already several meters down when he noticed a school of fish not too far away from him. At first he thought the way the school swam about appeared normal, but the more he watched, the more he began to realize they were moving erratically, like they were in the middle of a frenzy.

Wanting to get a closer look, he started to swim towards the large cloud of fish. The feeling he had in his gut tightened, warning him again that what he was doing was a bad idea. But he was so close to getting answered now, he couldn’t just give up.

Once he got close enough, it was then he noticed a long shadow sweeping up from below and snagging at the fish. At first glance, Yoongi wanted to think it was a shark that started the feeding frenzy; but the more he watched, the more he figured that whatever he saw was not a shark.

Patiently, he waited for the creature to appear again, taking another bite at the fish. He was practically holding his breath as he waited, until finally, he saw it again. Whatever it was, it was fast, barely giving Yoongi any time to truly get a good look at it. Best he could describe the creature was a lot longer than him, 6 feet maybe longer? It was slim, too slim to be a shark, that he knew. But just slim enough to be a man. . .

Scrambling for the camera, still strapped around his wrist, Yoongi brought the lens to his goggles, ready to take the shot. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears as he waited and waited. A range of emotions flew through him all at once. Was that thing in front of him what pulled him under? Was he really about to take photographic evidence of mermaids? What if it wasn’t even a mermaid but something else entirely?

Seconds felt like hours as he waited, until the creature struck again. Right as the shadow came into view, grabbing at another fish with its arm(?!), Yoongi's finger pressed down on the button. The bright flash illuminated the scene before him, capturing the moment. Whatever the creature was, it clearly didn’t like that, as a piercing shriek was heard all around him before the shadowy creature dove deeper into the ocean, far from view. Yoongi decided to finally listen to his gut and started swimming back up to the boat. The shrill noise still echoing in his ears.

Once Yoongi resurfaced, you let out a sigh of relief. He’d been down there so long, you feared he was going to run out of air and not have enough to come back up. Helping him back up on board, Yoongi practically ripped off the scuba gear and mask. His eyes were wild, yet they never looked away from the ocean.

“I saw it.” His voice was soft, barely above a whisper.

“What?” You couldn’t believe what he was saying. “Are you- are you serious?”

Keeping his focus on the water, he handed you the camera. “See for yourself.”

You don’t think you’ve run that fast to your laptop in your life.

Pulling out the sim card, you placed it into the adapter. “Come on, come on,” you muttered to yourself as the sim card loaded. While you waited impatiently, Yoongi eventually joined you, barely out of his trance.

You stared at the laptop screen in shock.

The image was blurry, as expected from a creature in motion, but there was no doubt as to what it was. A long tail, quite longer than human legs, bleeding into a sleek grey toned torso. Wide shoulders with arms outstretched, grabbing at a fish, all leading up to a dark head of hair. Not the perfect photo, nor did it look anything like how mermaids in media were made out to be but there was no question.

It was a mermaid.

“We can’t call it a mermaid, can we?” Yoongi asked as the two of you walked along the shore.

After seeing that photo, both your boyfriend and you decided not to tell anyone at work. Not Seokjin, not your bosses. No one. Immediately after docking the boat, both of you bid your coworkers goodbye, not even bothering to follow proper protocol (Jin would forgive you though, seeing as you both looked distressed). A few days had passed since the photo was taken, neither of you had gone back to work, still trying to wrap your mind around it. So you and Yoongi often had found yourself on the beach in the late hours of the evening, trying to make sense of it all.

“What do you mean we can’t call it a mermaid? Looks like a duck, acts like a duck-” You couldn’t believe what you were saying. A mermaid. Mermaid!

“I’m just saying if we call it a mermaid, it would mean it’s more peaceful and fairytale-like, when clearly it’s not,” he explained. It was a fair point, as it did seem very hostile. “Plus I feel like if we call it something less mythological we won’t get immediately thrown out of the scientific community.”

“Alright, then what do we call it?” You asked, kicking the water as you walked along the sand. Several times you caught yourself looking out to see, wondering what else might just be hiding in there.

“I was thinking like- the Min Siren or Minfish,” Yoongi quipped, eliciting you to slap his shoulder playfully. “Hey!”

Rolling your eyes at him, you sighed. “You got to be serious. This is major. We just made a huge scientific discovery, you can’t just-” As you focused your gaze in front of you, there was a lump in the water several yards ahead. Dropping Yoongi’s arm, you made your way over to it.

“Y/N?”

Your eyes widened as you sprinted the last few feet, “Get the car!” Lying just outside the water, was an unconscious man

#btsghostie #yoongi x reader #jungkook x reader #yoonkook x reader #siren jungkook #bts x reader #bts siren au #jungkook fanfiction #yoongi fanfiction #yoonkook fanfiction #yoongi x jungkook #yoonkook #min yoongi x reader #jeon jungkook x reader

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verfound · 2 years

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WIP Tag Asks? Oh dear. 😬

A-hem. @nerdypanda3126 is mean and knows exactly what she’s doing she has seen the Hoard y’all. It’s been a hot minute since I did that Festering Folder WIP Wednesday, and the Hoard has not shrunk at all. There’s a reason I’m the WIP Dragon. 😬

Anyway. 😂 Rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have wips. (You can make your own post or reblog this one!) I have deemed that this isn’t just for writing either. Sketch titles? Comics? Dnd campaigns? If you have an unfinished project, it counts!! (I am only doing the MLB ones, since that’s the fandom I’m mostly writing these days and the list will be over 500 long if I include all the fandoms. 😂)

and I...am putting this under a cut bc apparently the list is five pages long... 😬 Also, Quick had a great idea: the tag WIP Wednesday: Festering Folder Edition talks about some of these, if you want to go for something new/I haven’t discussed yet. 🖤

· All Our Broken Pieces

· Alya Césaire is Just Trying to Help

· And by the End of this Fic, We’ll be More than Just Friends

· And You Thought the Bathtub was Good

· Angsty Little Gremlin Baby

· At the End of the Aisle

· Banana Bread

· Before I Say Goodnight

· BlackBoard Blunders

· Boat Life Not Gimmick

· Booty Call

· Bread Brothers

· Breakup Songs

· Burrow Down

· Card Captor Sakura AU

· Community Service

· Coffee Shop Soundtrack

· Coyling

· Crayonarchy

· Dammit AC

· Dead Girls Tell No Tales

· Dead Like Me AU

· Evening Officer

· Family Dessert

· Fu’s Florals

· Fun with Arts and Crafts

· Futuresee

· Give a Mergirl a Starfish

· Guardian Stone

· Haaave You Met Mari

· Here in this Diary

· Hey Let’s Do a Singalong

· Hey Sicky

· His Most Prized Possession

· I Didn’t Expect to See You Here

· I Didn’t Run

· I Guess I Live Here Now

· I Need Nipples

· I Stand Alone

· I Think I’ll Call Her Fang

· If This is a Rom Com

· It Ain’t Made of Kevlar

· Jagged Loves Jagged

· Julie & the Phantoms Untitled Crossover

· Just Your Avg Sat

· Karma Chameleon

· LBSC SA 2022 – Dropout

· Legally Blonde AU

· Let’s Smoosh Faces

· Luka Streaks On

· Making it Work

· MegaMind AU

· Missed Point

· Octothorpe JAG

· Off Me Ship

· Oh You’re Vocal

· One More Time with You

· Opportunity Presents Itself

· Ordered Chaos

· Our FirstFirstFirst Date

· Pandora’s Box

· Pants Aren’t RocknRoll

· Paper Notes

· Park Bench

· Pink Fish Blue Fish

· Please Come to Boston

· Princess Heartmaker

· Reality Jagged

· Remembering You

· See You at Gate 52

· Sexy Guitar Guy p2

· Snapshots of Us

· Some People Say Hi

· Soultember – Welcome to the Gray

· Spinnerette

· Suitcase Pancakes

· That Agreste Guy was HM

· The Couffaines’ Little Suicide Machines

· The Girl with Flowers in Her Bones

· The Quarantine Kwami Baking Championship

· The Storm Rages On

· The Tip Goes In

· The Unexpected Roommate

· They Know Where to Find Me

· This is My Angry Face

· Unsolicited Advice

· Untitled 2-9; 11 (Selkie AU); 12-16; 17 (TS Baking Meet Cute)

· Voodoo Viperion

· We’re a Chance Left Untaken

· When the Clock Strikes 13

· Weight of it All

· You’re Doll’s Haunted

House Band:

· A Harmonious Christmas

· A Kick in the Head p2

· Anyone Ever Told You

· Barnyard in D

· Can I Help

· Dance Little Sister

· Darnin Can You Hear Me SOS

· Dear Old Gertie

· Dewey’s Diet

· Every Third Year

· Favorite Mugs

· Harold the Glitter Cow

· I Already Said Goodbye

· I’m a Unicorn

· Kicking Things Off

· Letting Go

· Maman’s Day Surprise

· Maman’s First Maman’s Day

· Maman’s Night Out

· Melody Super Spy

· Papas Don’t Get Sick Days

· Papa’s Ink

· Piggy Sue

· Pocket Pals

· Sing 2 Death AU

· Squeaks

· Surround Sound

· Take It Off

· The baby Swing

· The Cookie Principle

· The Sexiest What Now

· They were Supposed to be

Dingo Files:

· 5 Things Luka Regrets Telling Dingo

· ABBA Doesn’t Shred

· Adrien is a Fcking Idiot · Adrien is Still a Fcking Idiot

· Alibi

· All I Want for Christmas

· Australian Conditioning

· Basement Corpse

· Be More Dingo

· But We’re Thinking of Changing Our Name

· Cell Block Dingo

· Coming Up Schlort

· Ding Attenborough

· Dingho

· Dingo’s Cock

· Five Words

· Hail the Motherland

· He Travels for Work

· Here’s the Latest

· Hoist the Colors

· Ininko Montoya

· Jellyfish Suck

· Maybe I Could Love You

· MLWeeklyPrompts: Only a Kiss

· MLWeeklyPrompts: Operation SSASS

· Nails

· Never Check 3 AM Texts

· Nothing for Christmas

· Peregrine King

· Personal Use

· Rich Boys Don’t Stink

· Right to Remain Stupid

· Stealing Smoochies

· Stowaway

· Sunglasses

· Sur-prise

· That Time it was Luka’s Fault

· Tie Me Up

· Twins Damocles

· Who’s Mari

· Who’s Your Daddy

Winters:

· A Day in Your Scales

· Brooms Aren’t Just for Cleaning

· Human Feet

· I Want One

· Keep Your Mate Warm

· Snake Tales

· Snakefolk can be Fluff

· Spring in the Citadel

· Spring is for a Summons

· Spring is for Courtship

· Summer Skin

· Summers are for Celebrating

· Summers can be Hot

· The Stairs

No pressure tagging...oooh, how about @livrever @19thsentry-blog @haphira and @ladyfreya123 ? (Nerd already got Quick, Min, & Laurel 😂)

#wip folder #wip hoard #wip dragon #wip ask game #oh dear #maybe I'll do this Sunday #SSS festerng folder edition 👀

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jamaisjoons · 4 years

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the summer bucketlist | m.list

When the weather sees the return of sunshine and warmth, the joy and exuberance of summer is revived, and everyone rushes to enjoy the season to the fullest. Bonfire nights with your friends, seeing brilliant firework displays or laying under the stars on a humid night and watching the world go by. Learning to surf, or dive or snorkel or simply collecting seashells along the shore. Late nights at the amusement parks, thrilling roller-coaster rides or spectacular views on the Ferris Wheel. Skinny dipping in a lake after dark, attending a film or music festival, or even just visiting the popup street market in your city. Everything you had been dreaming off since the start of autumn, you can do once again. And who better to do it with, than the boys who bring more joy and warmth to our lives than summer itself?

Welcome to ‘The Summer Bucketlist’ - a writing event/author collab hosted by @jamaisjoons

The Summer Bucketlist: BTS Edition - is an event in which various different authors can sign up to write a story based on traditional Bucketlist Items. Find their stories below!

⟶ song of the sea; knj ⇥ @jamaisjoons ➳ fantasy au. little mermaid au. ↳ ⎡Take a Trip to the Museum⎦

« Captivated by the sight of you, he can’t help but watch you swim around his home. And when you turn to leave, he doesn’t know what overcomes him - but as if spellbound - he finds himself following you back to land. »

⟶ molotov cocktail; jhs ⇥ @yeoldontknow ➳ bartender au. arranged marriage au. ↳ ⎡Take a Cocktail Class⎦

« You met him January, on a night when you were newly single and newly wanting to break free from your father’s unyielding control. You left him in January, full of regret but full of purpose. You meet him again in July, and now you want nothing more than to run to the ends of the earth with him, to burn down the shape your life has taken in the hope of making something new. »

⟶ luminous; pjm ⇥ @luffles424 ➳ summer festival au. tentacle monster au. ↳ ⎡Watch Fireworks⎦

« The Busan summer festival is your favorite event of the year. You like all the food and things to do, but your favorite part is watching the fireworks at the end of the night, gathered with friends and family. It’s fun and joyous. Except this year you’re spending it without them. So you find a secluded spot on the beach to watch alone. Except... you might not be as alone as you thought you were out here. »

⟶ sticky situation; kth ⇥ @jiminsfault ➳ camping au. established relationship au. ↳ ⎡Go Camping⎦

« You hate camping, but Taehyung is determined on changing your mind on that. »

⟶ pull me in; jhs ⇥ @guccybangtan ➳ established relationship au. ↳ ⎡Go to a Water Park⎦

« In the heat of the summer, there's nothing more relaxing than relaxing than a nice trip to the water park. »

⟶ a beautiful epiphany; jjk ⇥ @onherwings ➳ friends to lovers au. ↳ ⎡Join an Art Contest⎦

« Who would have thought that falling in love with your muse could either lead to something beautiful or bring you to your own demise? »

⟶ love grows where you go; myg ⇥ @rookiegukie ➳ arranged marriage au. pining au. ↳ ⎡Watch the Sunset on the Beach⎦

« Determined to make you and Yoongi grow closer for your upcoming wedding in two weeks, your parents plan a trip for the both of you that lasts five days long. You know you should be ecstatic about it, considering your longtime crush on your fiancé, but by how you're positive that he secretly despises your whole being, you don't find this mini vacation with him something to look forward to. That is until things take an unexpected turn and suddenly, he makes it apparent he doesn’t hate you at all as you reckoned. »

⟶ petrichor; pjm ⇥ @taetaewonderland ➳ strangers to lovers au. domestic au. ↳ ⎡Go on a Picnic⎦

« There are smells in the world that can trigger your brain to think of a memory almost in an instant. »

⟶ sun cockblock; myg ⇥ @cremeandsuga ➳ best friends to lovers au. summer au. ↳ ⎡Join a Sandcastle Building Competition⎦

« Cancún was always a trip to remember - sun, beaches, hookups and day drinking, not to mention the annual sand castle competition you entered with your best friend every year. Yoongi smells like Copper Tone sunblock and heaven. Entering a sandcastle competition with one of the least competitive people in the world was pure agony — but it didn’t dawn to you that your best friend wasn’t competitive because he was confident he would win. Upon your loss, he sees you trying to soothe the burn of it (and the sun) with the beach bartender. He may smell like Copper Tone sunblock and heaven, but he’s sure you feel like heaven. »

⟶ rejuvenation; myg & jhs ⇥ @caught-in-a-seesaw-stigma ➳ spa owners au. ↳ ⎡Treat Yourself to a Spa Day⎦

« You finally get a break from work and you decide to indulge in a little pampering and self-care. During lunch, your friend slips a card into your hand for an exclusive spa with a special referral discount. How can you resist? Let’s hope the Bangtan Blossoms Spa provides the relaxation & rejuvenation experience you desperately seek. »

⟶ just a taste; kth ⇥ @xjoonchildx ➳ pwp au. ↳ ⎡Go Wine Tasting⎦

« He’s hot. he’s considerate. He’s refusing to make a move. weeks of sexual frustration come to a head at a wine tasting and -- this is going to shock NO ONE -- smut ensues. »

⟶ lollipop; myg ⇥ @ironicarmy ➳ neighbours to lovers au. ↳ ⎡Attempt to make Ice Cream⎦

« It’s a hot summer day, he’s desperate, and your ice lollies taste like heaven. »

⟶ carnival lights; kth ⇥ @taephilia ➳ haunted carnival au. horror au. ↳ ⎡Visit a Carnival⎦

« With half of your friend group graduated and leaving your hometown to move to the city for work, you and your friends decide to have one last adventure together (in the words of hobi even though it’s only may and you see each other like every day). But things are always different in the nighttime and you never know what’s lurking between the funnel cakes. »

⟶ midnight menagerie; knj ⇥ @jooneggs ➳ friends to lovers au. ↳ ⎡Go to a Botanical Garden⎦

« Like water, cradling your fragile soul, Namjoon has held the lily of your heart all your life and you wish you could let him know just how much that means to you. Coincidentally, it just so happens you can: in a week's time when you're stuck in the holiday of your life at Namjoon's father's Botanical gardens. Will you finally get to repay him in a bed of roses or will he be the one to make the bouquet for you? »

⟶ ferris drink; jhs ⇥ @salvejoon ➳ pwp au. established relationship au. ↳ ⎡Ride a Ferris Wheel⎦

« Your boyfriend has a bucket list of places he wants to do the nasty and next up is a Ferris Wheel. »

⟶ hose wars; ksj & myg ⇥ @babybinnyboy ➳ neighbour au. ↳ ⎡Have a Water Fight⎦

« Spending a summer in a little coastal town was supposed to be relaxing. It wasn't supposed to include a broken AC unit, record break heatwave, a hose, 2 ridiculously confident, attractive neighbors with an annoyingly low fence. »

⟶ cut shot; myg ⇥ @kimtaehyunq ➳ vacation au. established relationship au. ↳ ⎡Learn to Volleyball⎦

« He hates the water, he hates the heat, and he hates the Sun. Any form of physical activity is a big no-no, yet Min Yoongi will go out of his way to show that he loves you on your mini vacation. »

⟶ eternal summer; pjm ⇥ @aiimaginesbts ➳ childhood friends to lovers au. vacation au. ↳ ⎡Go Sightseeing on Vacation⎦

« Breaking up with my boyfriend leaves an empty spot on the overseas vacation that I had been looking forward to for a long time. I’m torn between abandoning the trip or going it solo when someone offers to tag along. However, having Jimin, my best friend go with me may not be the best idea — since my crush on him has never gone away. »

⟶ sway with me; knj & jhs ⇥ @minjoonalist ➳ established relationship au. ↳ ⎡Take a Boat Ride⎦

« You love celebrating your anniversary, it was the only special part about summer that you looked forward to every year- But when your husband Is unable to make the availability due to his job- You thought why not make the best of it? »

⟶ ecstatic shock; jhs ⇥ @iluvstrawberry ➳ strangers to lovers au. abo au. ↳ ⎡Host a BBQ⎦

« The garden party your parents throw every year is coming up. Seeing your conservative parents, is something you definitely don’t want to face on your own. But with all your friends being busy, you’ve decided to accept your fate and drown your sorrows at your favourite bar. Enter: Jung Hoseok, bartender, lifesaver and the most gorgeous guy you’ve ever seen. »

⟶ kaleidoscopic; knj ⇥ @boywivlove ➳ established relationship au. ↳ ⎡Go Paintballing⎦

« You and Namjoon decide to blow off some steam and go to a paint balling range, one multicoloured blitzkrieg later; bruised, sweaty and victorious you celebrate your win. »

⟶ undercurrent; jjk ⇥ @jjungkooksthighs ➳ best friends to lovers au. post college au. ↳ ⎡Go Diving⎦

« After a year and six months of sea fare and many more nights of sunken eyes that had been dotted with the black shadings of sleeplessness that you’d helped to nurse him because of, the fruits of your best friend’s efforts had earned him the completion of his mission to map the entire eastern seaboard. In all his work, though, Jungkook has not gotten the chance to dive at many of the areas scattered around the ocean in the vastness of the seas. You decide to take him to a previously unmarked, unmapped sector of the sea after following his own nautical charts. The catch is this: you’re afraid of the water. What happens when you find yourself following after him and into the arms of the sea after years of pent up sexual frustration that you blame entirely on him? »

a/n: this is incredibly late but onefgeoingoeitng i hope you enjoy reading all of these works! If you participated in the collab but your fic isn’t on here, it’s because it hasn’t appeared in the tags! please feel free to DM with the link to the fic!!

#jamaisjoons summer collab #tsb 2020 collab #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #namjoon smut #seokjin smut #yoongi smut #hoseok smut #jimin smut #taehyung smut #jungkook smut

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wellimaginethat · 4 years

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Trouble in Paradise

Pairing: Jay Halstead x (female) Reader, Kelly Severide x Best Friend!Reader

Requested?: Yes

Word Count: 1839

Author’s Note: So Danger Prone was originally just supposed to be a oneshot, but a couple people seemed to want a part two and I honestly thought a part two would be great and now I’m already planning a third installment of this new series.

Trigger Warning(s): Car accident mention, being held at gunpoint mention, fluff

Disclaimer: I don’t owe nor am I affiliated with any of the Chicago shows, I just like to play with the characters

Summary: Y/N thinks Jay is going to break up with her, but she couldn’t be more wrong. (Second part to Danger Prone, but you don’t really need to read that if you don’t want too, because this could be a standalone piece)

Y/N = Your Name

Y/LN = Your Last Name

Part One

Tag List: @jayxuptons, @bethii1, @tonio-dawson, @drakelover78 , @lorenakaspersen (want to be tagged in future chapters of this fic? leave a comment or shoot me a message!)

It was no secret to anyone how much you and Jay loved each other. You seemed perfect together and everyone thought so.

And that was what led him to act a little screwy lately. You couldn’t understand it, everything seemed so perfect and he seemed to love you and you were happy. And then he started acting weird around you. You were worried he was going to break up with you.

And that crushed you, after everything the two of you had been through, it absolutely devastated you just to think about him breaking up with you.

So you tried your hardest not to think about it. But it was obvious that something was bothering you. Everyone at the house noticed and that was what led your best friend to plop down in the chair next to you and give you that look.

“Alright, what’s going on with you?” Kelly asked, crossing his arms.

You did your best to muster up a smile and shake off your worries, but it was so obviously faked. “What do you mean? I’m fine.” You hated how your voice broke on the word ‘fine’

Kelly’s brows furrowed together and he shook his head. “Don’t give me that.” He unfolded his arms and leaned towards you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Talk to me, what’s going on? Trouble in paradise?”

You sniffled at just the thought of what you were about to say. “I’m pretty sure Jay’s gonna break up with me.”

This shocked Kelly and it was obvious, he had only been joking when he asked if there was trouble in paradise, he didn’t actually think you and Jay would be having issues. “What are you talking about? He loves you.” The frown returned. “What would make you think that he’s going to break up with you?”

“He’s just been acting really weird lately and I can’t help but think it’s because he’s sick of me.” You told Kelly quietly, swallowing back your emotions.

“Why would you even think that? He’s lucky to have you.” Kelly told you, still frowning because this was preposterous.

“Yeah, right.” You rolled your tear filled eyes before wiping underneath them, trying to keep the tears from sliding down your cheeks because you would not cry at work over some man. But it wasn’t some man, it was Jay Halstead, the love of your life...or who you thought was the love of your life.

“I’m serious.” Kelly told you with a huff.

“What’s so lucky about having a girlfriend who’s clumsy as hell and gets herself injured or almost killed every other month?” You asked him, annoyed and frustrated, but Kelly knew better than to take it to heart.

“It’s not every other month.” Kelly told you.

“Oh really? Two weeks ago I was in that car accident, two months ago I fell through a floor on a call, a month before that I was held at freaking gun point, and a few weeks before that I fell off your boat when we went out on the lake!” You huffed out, your voice raising and gaining the attention of some of your coworkers.

“The car accident and being held at gunpoint weren’t your fault. And any one of us could’ve fallen through the floor on that call, and...I have nothing to say about the boat incident because that really was you just being clumsy.” Kelly told you, a small smile forming on his face.

You looked at him and couldn’t even muster up enough energy to give him a fake smile. “I know you’re trying to make me feel better, but it’s not working.”

Kelly sighed and patted your shoulder. “Okay, well drinks on me at Molly’s tonight.” He told you as he stood up.

You shook your head. “I don’t think-”

“Uh-uh, not taking no for an answer.” Kelly told you. “And I’m not taking maybes either.”

You huffed and smiled a little bit at him before nodding. “Yeah okay.”

“Good.”

And just then the alarm went off signalling that there was a fire and you all were needed.

The call went by fairly smoothly, all things considered. It was fairly simple to be honest and when you guys got back to the house, it was time for your much earned R and R and you all were sent home.

“Molly’s. Tonight. Six.” Kelly told you, pointing at you as you walked to your newish car, the replacement to your old car that was totaled.

You gave him a thumbs up as you got into your car, smiling a bit and laughing before you drove home.

When you got to your apartment, you went to get some sleep before getting up around noon and cleaning some. Eventually, five rolled around and you decided you should probably start getting ready to meet Kelly at Molly’s.

Jay walked into Molly’s and saw Kelly sitting at a table, he walked over to him. “Hey can I talk to you for a second?” “I was gonna ask you the same thing.” Kelly told him, motioning for him to take a seat across from him.

“Why’s that?” Jay asked, frowning a bit.

“Y/N seems to think you’re going to break up with her.” Kelly told him simply.

Jay seemed to be taken aback. “What? That’s ridiculous.” He frowned. “Why would she think that?”

“Apparently, according to her, you’ve been acting weird lately.” Kelly explained, leaning on the table. “So what’s going on? Are you cheating on her or something?”

“No, of course not.” Jay frowned even deeper. “I’ve just been trying to figure out the best way to ask her to marry me.”

Kelly was shocked by that answer. “Oh...wow.”

Jay nodded some. “So...any suggestions?”

Kelly paused for a moment. “Somewhere private.” He told him after some thought. “She hates people staring at her, and she’s a diehard romantic, but she would hate for it to be over the top.”

“Of course.” Jay nodded, chuckling a bit. “I know how she hates when people make a fuss over her.”

Kelly laughed a bit and nodded. “That’s true.”

The two of them fell silent for a moment.

“So, when are you gonna pop the question?” Kelly finally asked.

Jay hummed in thought. “Soon, especially since she thinks I’m going to break up with her.”

“Good idea.” Kelly nodded and saw you walk in from across the bar. “She’s here.”

Jay turned in his seat before getting up and walking over to meet you with a smile. “Hey.”

You looked at him and smiled. “Hey.” You said softly, trying not to let on that you thought your relationship was ending.

Jay wrapped an arm around your shoulders as the two of you walked to the bar. “You got any plans tonight?”

“Well Kelly wanted to hang out here…” You shrugged a bit.

“And after?” Jay asked, looking at you.

You shrugged again. “I don’t know, why?”

“Maybe you could come over?”

You nodded slowly. “Okay…” You ordered yourself a drink and before you could pay for it, Jay had tossed some money down. “You didn’t have to buy my drink, I’m a big girl.”

Jay furrowed his brows. “And I’m your boyfriend.”

“Okay, and?” You asked, not looking at him as you picked up your drink.

“What do you mean ‘and’?” Jay asked, his frown deepening. “All I wanted was to buy my girl a drink, what’s so wrong with that?”

You huffed out a sigh. “Nothing.”

The frown didn’t leave his face. “Is something wrong?” Of course he knew something was wrong, but he didn’t want to let you know that he had talked to Kelly.

“Nothing’s wrong, Jay.” You huffed out. “I just had a bad day.” You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and went to walk past him.

“Woah wait.” Jay said, grabbing your hand in his to stop you.

You turned and finally looked at him. “What?”

Jay took your drink from your hand and set it on the bar. “Herrmann, can you watch these for us for a minute?” He asked and Herrmann nodded, next thing you knew Jay was pulling you outside.

“What are you doing?” You asked, frowning as you tried pulling your hand from his grip.

“We need to talk.” Jay told you, frowning.

You stopped in your tracks once you guys were outside, fear filling you because you thought you knew what was coming. He was going to break up with you. Your suspicions were right. “Okay.” You said after a moment, swallowing hard.

Jay turned to face you. “I love you.”

“Okay…” You said quietly. “But you’re breaking up with me?”

Jay shook his head. “No, I’m not breaking up with you.”

“Then why have you been acting so...different?” You asked, tears filling your eyes.

“Because I’m nervous.” Jay told you.

You looked at him. “Nervous? What for?”

“Because I love you and I want to ask you to marry me but I don’t know how.” Jay told you, hating that it came down to this.

You stopped, blinking a few times in shock. “You...want to marry me?”

“Of course I do.” Jay said softly.

You smiled wide. “Really?”

“Really.” Jay said softly, smiling as well. “So…?”

“So…?” You asked, looking at him.

“What do you say?” Jay asked softly.

Your smile turned to a smirk. “Well, you haven’t really asked me yet, so…”

Jay chuckled softly. “And I don’t really have the ring with me right now.” He said softly.

“You could still ask.” You told him softly.

Jay nodded a bit and knelt down. “Y/N Y/LN will you marry me?” He asked softly, looking up at you.

You grinned wide and nodded. “Of course.”

Jay stood up and gently pulled you in for a kiss. “I love you so much.” He said softly.

You smiled. “I love you too.” You whispered back.

“We should head back inside.” Jay said after a moment.

“Yeah, probably a good idea.” You agreed and nodded, turning to head back inside only for Jay to spin you back around and kiss you again.

“Okay, now we can head back inside.” Jay grinned.

You laughed softly and turned to head back inside again, picking your drink up from the bar and thanking Herrmann before heading over to where Kelly was sitting.

“Everything good?” Kelly asked, raising a brow at you.

You smiled wide. “Everything’s great.” Squeezing Jay’s hand, keeping the secret between the two of you for now, everyone else would know soon enough.

Kelly nodded and shared what seemed like a knowing look with Jay, but you couldn’t comment because Kim walked over. “There you are, I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever. How are you doing since the accident?”

You smiled. “I’m doing good Kim, how’ve you been?” You asked her as she pulled you into a hug.

“Been good.”

You got roped into a conversation with her, glancing at Jay and Kelly, you’d question Jay about the look later on.

#jay halstead x reader #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead imagines #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd imagines

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slythergirlimagines · 4 years

Text

Don’t Call Me Princess Part 1- Zuko x Reader

Summary: Reader and Zuko can’t stand each other, so when they are forced to share a room, chaos ensues. Lots of angst and fluff! (GIF Not mine!! Please someone tag me in some Zuko gifs I’m struggling to find them) masterlist

Words: 2,470 Requested: Yes. I combined the requests for enemies to lovers and bedsharing

Don’t Call Me Princess- Part 1

You were exhausted. The past three days had been hell for you. The Gaang had gone to try and free a village from Fire Nation occupation, but it hadn’t gone half as smoothly as you’d planned. You’d been kidnapped halfway through, but luckily you were rescued before any harm came to you. It was who rescued you that was the problem.

Ever since he had switched sides and joined forces with Aang, Prince Zuko had been a thorn in your side. He was moody, antagonistic, and you were always fighting with him. He was so infuriating and always trying to get a rise out of you. Zuko had been the one to save you, and he hadn’t let you forget it.

“You know if you wanted my attention Princess, you didn’t have to go and get yourself kidnapped. Coulda just said so.” He had smirked when he’d found you. You would’ve decked him if you could’ve, but of course he made sure to mess with you when you were tied up.

“Get me out of here Zuko.” You’d demanded.

“I don’t know... I kinda like where you are.” You hated how the look he gave you made your stomach flip. Obviously it was your body trying to vomit.

“Get. Me. Out.” You had gritted your teeth.

“Sure thing princess.”

“Don’t. Call. Me. PRINCESS!” You had shrieked.

Zuko had called you princess from the moment he joined the team. He was always degrading you like that, and it made you want to throttle him.

You and Zuko managed to get out safely, and the Gaang freed the village. What should have been a victory for you was tainted by Zuko, who hadn’t shut up about saving you since it happened.

Currently, you were discussing where to go from there. None of you particularly wanted to camp after this experience. It was Katara who brought up the idea of taking a break. Toph had managed to scam you guys some money, and you had just enough to afford to stay somewhere and relax for a few days.

“Like a vacation?” Sokka asks excitedly, Toph nodding in agreement.

“Yeah, I think it could do us all some good.” Katara says, fingers combing through her thick dark hair.

Everyone sits digesting this idea for a while.

“So where do we go?” Aang asks. It surprises you that Aang actually wants to take a few days off. In the beginning he had acted his age, but the longer you all had spent on the road, the more dedicated to the cause Aang had become.

“We’re close enough to Hépíng.” Zuko says. “It’s a city of peace and relaxation. Maybe princess can avoid trouble there.”

“Shut up Zuko!” You snap before you can control yourself. You know this is what he wants, but you can’t help it when he goads you like that.

“I get it ok? You saved me. What do you want from me?” You cry.

“How about some gratitude?” He snapped back. “I’m always having to save your ass from something, and all you do is sit around and pout.”

“What?!” You demand. White hot rage flows through you. If you were a firebender you knew you’d be on fire.

“Just last week the Sea Monster knocked you off the boat, and I had to go get you. Then a few weeks before that, you were being nice to that man who tried to take you. Had to get you out of that one. And then there was that time-“ Zuko counts on his fingers.

“Enough!” You cut him off. He’s made you so mad that you’re shaking. “Newsflash Zuko, I didn’t need your help any of those times! I had them all handled. It’s not my fault you decide to prematurely step in!” You screech.

“Didn’t need my help?!” He says back. His amber eyes flash defiantly, and he balls his hands into fists. “Princess, please tell me what you would have done if I hadn’t stepped in any of those times!”

“What do you want an essay detailing my plans? I would have thought of something, you just never give me the chance!” You seethe.

“Right. Ok, sure.” Zuko says.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You’re heaving now. Your fingers itch to slap him, maybe strangle him. You think that would feel really cathartic.

“You want to know what I mean? You really want to know?” He snaps.

So far everyone else has remained silent. They had learned early on to just let you and Zuko fight it out. If your fights were deadly against each other, you were even worse when you teamed up against one of them. Now they look uncomfortable, eyes darting between you two.

“Guy, maybe you shouldn’t....” Aang starts.

“No, let him say it Aang! I want to hear it.” You cross your arms and jut out your chin in defiance.

“Guys really...”

“Stay out of this Aang!” You both snap at the same time.

Zuko whips his head angrily back at you, locks of raven hair falling into his eyes.

“You know what I really think? I think you’re the most incapable person here!” Zuko snaps. “You’re always making stupid decisions that jeopardize not only yourself, but every one else on this team!”

His words hurt a lot more than they should. You and Zuko had fought every day, but never before had he said something so cruel to you. Angry tears well up in your eyes.

“You know what? Fine, maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m incapable and incompetent, but at least I’ve never intentionally done anything to harm this team. At least my nation isn’t destroying everything it touches, and oh yeah, at least my father isn’t behind it all!”

You’ve never said something so cruel either. You almost regret saying it, when you see hurt flash on Zuko’s face. Your eyes linger on his scar, the brutal reminder of his monster of a father. Zuko’s face falls, but then it solidifies into an even angrier expression. He opens his mouth to say something even worse, before Aang cuts him off.

“ENOUGH!” He yells. “All you guys do is fight and I’ve had it! You guys are so unnecessarily mean to each other it’s ridiculous! We’re a team. We only work when we’re supporting each other. What is wrong with you two?!”

Aang’s face is red and his chest is heaving. You’ve only ever seen him so torn up once. You clench your jaw and look away as you blink back the tears.

“We’re taking a much needed break, ok? Can’t you guys just be civil for a few days. Please?” Aang pleads.

Neither you nor Zuko says anything, and the silence hangs heavy for several moments. It feels like another challenge to see who folds first. Finally, you decide to be the mature one since Zuko clearly won’t

“Fine.” You say. “I’ll be civil. As long as he says the hell away from me!” You stand up and stomp off to the furthest corner of Appa’s saddle.

“Couldn’t agree more.” You hear him snark back.

You hear Aang heave a long sigh, and Katara mutter something to him. Slowly, they resume a conversation about travel plans while you sit and mope.

Zuko somehow always knew your biggest insecurities, and knew exactly how to strike at them. You had always felt like a burden to the team. You weren’t a bender, and truthfully you weren’t a skilled fighter either. You didn’t really know why they kept you around, and it haunted you enough without Zuko reminding you every five seconds.

Subtly, you turn your head and watch the team interact. Even Zuko had rejoined the conversation. They were fine without you, you noted sadly. Maybe Zuko was right.

——————————————-

Hépíng is a gorgeous city. It lives up to its reputation of peace. The city is flooded with tourists, and it makes it easier for you all to blend in. Zuko is vaguely familiar with this place, and leads you to the strip of land where all of the Inns are.

Sokka and you are the least recognizable of the group, so you briefly play rock, paper, scissors to determine who has to go book your rooms. You know Sokka always picks rock, so you go with paper. Sokka grumbles all the way into the Inn.

It takes him what feels like hours to come back out. He looks grim, and you feel your heart drop. You had just gotten excited about having a break from Zuko, you didn’t want to have to jump right back into saving the world.

“Ok so here’s the thing.” Sokka says, “I got us rooms, but there can only be two people in a room. So we’re going to have to split up.”

“Ok so what?” You ask, shrugging. You didn’t get why this was such a big deal.

“Because one of us is going to be unfortunate enough to share a room with you.” Zuko says, rolling his eyes. “Princess.” He narrows his amber eyes and smirks.

“That’s it!”

You’re about to start throwing punches when Sokka ends it.

“You know what?” He says. “I’ve made up my mind. Aang and I will share, and Katara and Toph will share. You two” he says pointing between you and Zuko, “are going to work out your problems. Now is the perfect time to do it.”

You can feel the color draining from your face.

“What?” Zuko asks at the same time you give an emphatic “No!”

“Does anyone object to that arrangement?” Sokka asks.

You and Zuko both raise your hands, but nobody else does.

“Come on guys it’ll be good for you.” Katara says. “You all have never gotten to properly bond, and the fighting has got to stop.”

“This is absolutely ridiculous!” You say, stamping your foot.

“You think you got the bad deal, Princess?” Zuko huffs. “If you’re so miserable go sleep on Appa.”

“Shut the fu-“

“Alright!” Sokka says, slapping his hands over Aang’s ears. “Let’s go find our rooms.”

——————————————-

The inn is nice and cozy inside, with a warm fire in the fire place. You used to love fire before you associated it with Zuko. Of course he had to ruin that for you.

Sokka leads you past the tavern, and into a back hallway with five rooms. Katara and Toph take the first one. You manage to get a peek of the inside, a spacious room with two beds and what appeared to be a chair and tables. The room next to their is occupied, so Sokka leads you and Zuko to the end of the hall.

“Our room is across from yours.” Sokka says, handing Zuko the key to your room. “Please don’t get us kicked out of here. We all need this.”

“This was your brilliant idea, chief.” You snark at him, flipping your hair over your shoulder. “Any casualties are on you.”

Zuko snatches the key and nods his agreement.

“You’ve brought this on yourself, buddy.” Zuko says.

Sokka slumps against the door frame as Aang throws open the door to their room.

“Sokka look! These beds are great for jumping!” Aang says, using his bending to propel himself higher.

Sokka’s face falls even further.

“Gotta go.” He says, and slams the door behind him.

You and Zuko are left standing in the hallway in tense silence.

“Well? Aren’t you going to let us in?” You huff.

Zuko rolls his eyes but unlocks the door. You purposely knock into his shoulder as you enter the room, causing him to stumble. You smile vindictively to yourself as you walk inside until you notice something’s wrong.

“Um Zuko?” You say slowly. “Now is the only time I’ll tolerate you calling me dense. Am I hallucinating?” You say taking in the room.

Zuko stiffens beside you as he also examines the room.

“I really, really wish I could say yes.” He says.

There’s a notable difference between your room and the others’ rooms. Where they had two beds, you only have one large bed.

It takes a moment for either one of you to say something. Your horror is reflected on Zuko’s face as you turn to look at each other.

“Sokka!” You yell, going over to pound on his door.

“Sokka open up right now or Zuko is going to fry your ass!” You yell.

“I’ll do it, Sokka.” Zuko threatens. It sounds more dangerous coming out of his mouth than yours.

A bleary-eyed Sokka pushes open the door.

“What are you guys-“ but before he can finish his sentence, you and Zuko are hauling him to your room to show him the offending bed.

“Oh.” He says when he sees the bed. “They didn’t tell me that.”

“You and Aang have to switch us!” You beg. “We can’t do it Sokka. You’re asking way too much.”

“Yeah what kind of vacation is this?” Zuko demands. “Just let us switch rooms, we’ll get over sharing if we have our own beds.”

“Yeah! You won’t hear a peep out of us the rest of the week.” You add on.

Sokka shakes his head.

“Nuh uh. No way. You’re just going to have to deal with it. Share it, sleep on the floor, I don’t really care. I don’t want to hear from either of you for the rest of the day.” He says. He turns to leave and then stops.

“How about we make a deal?” Sokka says turning completely back around.

“Anything!” You beg.

“Sokka please man.” Zuko says.

A huge grin splits Sokka’s face nearly in two. You don’t like the expression on his face one bit.

“Aang and I will switch you rooms, if you can go the first three days without fighting.” You open your mouth to protest, before Sokka shushes you. “Not one fight. You’re going to spend three days together. You are going to work out your issues, and then, if you manage to do that, Aang and I will switch for the remainder of our vacation. Can you do that?”

You make eye contact with Zuko, and try to read his expression. Sokka is asking for a lot. Three whole days of dealing with Zuko just to have four days of your own bed. Zuko’s eyes narrow at the challenge, and you find yourself mirroring him,

“Deal.”

A/N: Welcome to my new series;) I hope you all enjoy it. I think I got everyone who asked on my taglist, but if I missed you please let me know!

Taglist: @galacticamidala @a-random-queer-kid @taeeemin @realimbo @samsmultifandomblogs @fire1ordzuzu @shortmexicangirl @wingeddemonclub @mangoberry34 @marvel-ing-at-it-all

#slythergirlimagines #zuko x y/n #zuko x reader #prince zuko x reader #prince zuko x you #zuko x you #aang #zuko #katara #toph #sokka #enemies to lovers #bed sharing #atla #avatar the last airbender #atla fanfic

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