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guilty-pleasures21 · 5 months ago

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My friend and I were talking about Jason and she said it would be cool if Jason's S/O got along with Bruce, but I honestly don't see that happening?

I can't imagine being in a relationship with Jason and at the same time thinking Bruce is a nice guy after all

What do you think?

Oh my god! I’m so excited for this! I decided to respond in the form of a story 😉.

Bruce Wayne

Warnings: brief references to loss and trauma.

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It took nine months for him to finally let you in enough for you to start falling in love with him.

You’d first met Jason in the library; specifically the literature section. He’d been standing by one of the shelves, quietly flipping through a copy of Jane Austen’s Emma. He’d had the build of a stereotypical jock, so you’d honestly been a little surprised to see him focusing so intently on the British classic. But those were just your own biases, so you’d quickly tossed them aside in favour of returning to your search. Halloween was coming up, which always put you in the mood for one of your favourite classics: Dracula. It was short and the unconventional style of writing was always a little jarring at first, but you absolutely loved reading about how the characters puzzled through the mystery. You’d knelt down, searching the shelf where the novel should have been sitting according to the alphabetical filing system. But it hadn’t been there. You’d frowned and tsked in irritation, then quickly snuck a glance at the man standing behind you. You’d barely caught him raising an eyebrow at you over the top of his book before he’d quickly lowered his gaze, acting as if he hadn’t even noticed you there. You’d turned back to the shelves and stood up, checking to see if someone had accidentally misplaced the book after picking it up for a quick read … There! On the top shelf! You’d stretched onto your toes, reaching for the spine, but your fingers had barely grazed the edge of the shelf.

“Need some help?” You’d turned to find the man’s attention fully focused on you now, his startling green eyes studying you intently. He’d lowered his book, allowing you a glimpse of his rugged features, his wide lips and his crooked nose that looked like it had been broken and reset a few times already. He’d raised an eyebrow at you and you’d realised suddenly that you’d been staring.

“Oh!” you’d gasped, embarrassed by your own actions. “Uh, thank you!”

You’d stepped aside, giving him the space to get the book for you, and you couldn’t help but notice how big he was - tall and strong and broad. He’d grabbed the book with ease and rolled his eyes at the title before handing it over to you.

“Excuse me?” you’d said, frowning up at him whilst cuddling the book protectively to your chest. He’d given you a once-over in response, taking in your small form, so fragile compared to him, then he’d gone back to his side of the shelf, his expression unimpressed.

“Nothing,” he’d drawled, opening up his book again. But the amount of sarcasm contained in that single word had only caused your anger to bubble even more.

“What’s wrong with Dracula?” you’d asked, a hundred different retorts coming to mind immediately. Your heart had thudded with anticipation as the adrenaline had raced through your system, your defences instinctively locking into place to shield you from whatever hatred might have been about to spew from his mouth.

“It’s a little cliche, isn’t it?” he’d suggested, picking up his book again. “Halloween … vampires … You in a book club or something, princess?”

He’d flashed you a little smirk, his expression more teasing than unkind, but the condescending nickname had raked over your nerves like nails on a chalkboard. “At least his characters are more nuanced! And he develops more of a plot in these few pages than Jane Austen does in any of her hundred novels! It’s not just the same old story of two extremely unlikeable characters falling in love over and over again under a different title!”

Jason had flinched at your outburst, taken aback by your sudden vehemence. He’d told you later that he didn’t usually let people off so easily, but he hadn’t been able to get mad in the face of your adorableness. You’d rolled your eyes at his admission, but smiled anyway as you’d curled up into his side. It had taken about a year after meeting him before you’d finally realised the real reason he hadn’t shot back at you - the reason he’d just given you an amused smirk and asked if you’d read all of Jane Austen’s ‘hundred’ novels.

Because he’d seen in you that same instinct - that same fear - to always be on your guard, to always be prepared for someone to attack you and know that no one would come to your defence but you.

And that was how you’d first become friends with Jason Peter Todd.

It took three months after you’d admitted your feelings for him to yourself before you’d realised that he was never going to be the first one to make a move.

You’d been sitting on his sofa, watching a movie at his place as was your weekly Friday night ritual. You’d never been able to get into Jane Austen’s books, but you’d always loved the movie versions of her stories. Jason had been sitting beside you, legs spread apart, one elbow on the armrest, his hand propping his head up as he’d focused on the movie. You’d inched closer to him at a cautious pace, slowly closing the distance between the two of you.

“What are you doing?” Jason had asked finally, nothing ever escaping his notice. His tone was amused - as it always was when he was with you - but it did nothing to ease the churning of your stomach as you’d gathered up your courage. You’d kept your attention fixed on the television, watching as Alicia Silverstone sat in the exact same position as you, puzzling over how to express her true feelings to Paul Rudd beside her.

“I like you.” A blanket of tension had smothered the room at your confession, the only sounds coming from the movie that neither of you were paying attention to anymore. Finally, unable to take it any longer, you’d paused the movie and turned to Jason, your brows furrowed in irritation. “Well?”

He didn’t know whether to laugh or bolt in terror. Of course you would be the only person to confess your feelings and then get mad when the other person didn’t respond. But he had that same instinct too: to take your fear and twist it into anger - to defend yourself even before the other person could think to attack.

He’d turned away from you, his leg starting to shake as he’d processed your words. He couldn’t- You couldn’t. You couldn’t like him! Not like that! You were his friend and … he couldn’t afford to f*ck up the best thing had ever happened to him in his life! Even if he’d been finding it more and more difficult to stop his gaze from lingering on your soft curves and your full lips and imagining what you would feel like pressed up against him with absolutely nothing in between your bod- No! No. It was a horrible idea.

He’d turned to face you, wanting to list out all the reasons he wasn’t good for you. But you’d known him for too long now and you knew by the defeated slump of his shoulders exactly what was going to come out of his mouth.

“Don’t!” you’d exclaimed, jumping to your knees and clamping your hands over his mouth before he could speak. His eyes had widened in surprise at your sudden movements and you’d removed your hands from his mouth, satisfied that you’d startled him enough for him to not argue with you. “I don’t want a list of bullshit reasons about why you think you’re not good enough to be in a relationship or how you think it’s going to mess up our friendship or whatever else nonsense you’ve somehow convinced yourself of over the past few years.”

You’d rearranged yourself on his lap then, swinging your leg over both of his and sliding your arms around his neck as you’d laid your head on his shoulder.

“I love you, Jace,” you’d continued softly, running your fingers through his hair. “We can take it slow - we have the rest of our lives, after all - but I want to make this work. I want us … I want you. I just want you, for the rest of our lives.”

You’d sat there in silence for a while, letting him digest your words. And slowly, his heartbeat had slowed and his muscles had relaxed until finally, he’d let his arms come loosely around your waist. “I don’t-”

He’d cut himself off as his voice had cracked with emotion, and he’d tightened his grip on you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You’d continued to brush his hair gently, keeping your breathing steady and allowing your weight on top of him to keep him grounded. You’d seen him have panic attacks before and though he’d told you a little bit about what had caused them, he still hadn’t gone into much detail about it. All you knew was that he’d gotten beat up by a bad guy as a kid. He’d seemed horribly uncomfortable even telling you that much, so you’d never pushed him for more information. You were too good to him.

“I love you, Jay,” you’d repeated, holding him close to you, trying to physically transfer your love for him from your body into his. Eventually, you’d sat back and moved your hand to his cheek instead. You’d studied his features carefully: his thick eyebrows, his moss-coloured eyes, the tiny scar that cut into the corner of his upper lip … “We can … take it slow …”

And then you were kissing, your lips brushing each other’s softly as your tongues explored one another’s mouths. You’d let him take the lead, stepping back after being the one who’d made the first move, and soon, your kisses had turned heated: his hands squeezing every curve they ran over, your fingers sneaking beneath his shirt to glide over his hard muscles, your hips moving against one another’s as you'd both started getting excited. Eventually, he’d lifted you up and walked you backwards to his bedroom, your lips never leaving the other’s as you’d pulled each other's clothes off along the way.

And that had been the best night of your entire life, no thanks to Jason Peter Todd.

It took another six months after that for him to tell you the whole story of what had happened.

He’d sat on your sofa, leg shaking vigorously, teeth buried in his lower lip as he’d waited for you to say something. It hadn’t been easy, but he’d finally told you the whole story: the day he’d gone to the warehouse, the thrashing he’d gotten from The Joker, the trauma of having his soul forced back into his body … and then having the only person who’d saved him from the streets - who’d promised him that there was something in him worth saving - turn around and tell him that no, there really wasn’t anything in him worth saving after all. Now you understood why he found it so hard to let himself be loved by you - to believe that anyone could ever find something in him worth loving.

“Oh, Jay.” You’d wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close to you and murmuring into his hair over and over again that you loved him, you loved him, you loved him. You loved his righteous anger and his concerned protectiveness and his unwavering sense of justice. For you, there wasn’t any part of him that wasn’t worth loving - that wasn’t worth saving. Over and over and over again. Maybe you hadn’t been there to save him then, but you were there to save him now. As many times as he needed someone to.

Finally, he took you to meet his family.

You clasp the man’s hand, fixing him with a wary expression as you shake it. “Mr Wayne.”

“Please, call me Bruce,” he insists, fixing you with the same smile he’d probably been trained to wear as a child. You let out a noncommittal hum as your hand falls back to your side and you don’t miss the minute flicker in his expression in response to your cold demeanour. But he brushes it aside and glances over at Jason in question, waiting.

He’d told him a few days ago that he was planning to ask his girlfriend to come over for Thanksgiving. The rest of the family had already met you - mostly by stalking Jason and constructing elaborate situations in which they’d ‘casually’ ‘bump into’ both of you on the street or a café somewhere - and they’d all been delighted by his sweet little girlfriend who, at times, seemed to have even worse of a temper than him, but who also appeared to love him more than anything else in the world. Bruce’s heart had swelled at the thought of someone giving his son all the love he deserved - all the love he himself had failed so miserably at giving him - and he’d barely managed to keep a lid on his excitement when Jason had finally mentioned bringing you over. But he’d follow his son’s lead and do only as he said.

Jason shakes his head slightly, telling Bruce not to take it too personally, then he guides you to the kitchen, his arm wrapped firmly around your waist. Bruce waits for the rest of his kids to follow, then finally, he joins you all at the dining table.

The atmosphere is lively, everyone laughing and joking and sarcastically listing all the things they’re thankful for. You join in the fun, easily fitting in with the rest of his family, but there’s a moment when you pause - when your gaze lands on Bruce and you find yourself taking a moment to study his expression.

He hadn’t said much the entire meal, but he’d watched his family with an expression of tenderness - of disbelief - his lips curled into a soft smile as he’d surveyed his loved ones celebrating this day of thanks together. And it struck you: the familiarity of that look.

Because how many times had you seen it on Jason? Jason, who would watch you with that same tenderness on his face whenever you did something to make him believe that maybe, just maybe, he really was worth loving. From something as simple as calling him cute when he was annoyed with someone for deviating from his mission plan to the bigger stuff like surprising him with a tray of brownies you'd made from scratch because you knew they were his favourite. He'd spent so long being convinced that he wasn't worth loving that he still couldn't quite believe it whenever you made space for him in your life. And now here was Bruce, giving the large, boisterous family he’d so carefully cultivated the exact same look.

The moment continues to linger in your mind as you all settle down to watch a movie, Jason's siblings arranging themselves across the various forms of furniture scattered around the room while you cuddle up with him on a loveseat by the sofa. The night soon turns into a game of who can stay awake the longest as one by one Jason's family begins dozing off, their satisfying meal coaxing them into a state of sleepiness. You yourself find it hard to keep your eyes open when you're wrapped up in your boyfriend's big, strong arms, all snuggled up against his broad chest. Eventually, Bruce forces everyone up and to their beds, making sure they're all safely tucked in before retiring to his own bedroom.

You lie with Jason in his bed, tickling his scalp in the way that always makes him drowsy, even when he's finding it difficult to sleep.

“What?” he asks finally, sensing that you're still awake. You narrow your eyes in thought, combing through all the information Jason has ever shared with you.

“How old was Bruce when his parents died?” You knew the story, of course - Bruce Wayne had lost his parents in a mugging incident when he'd been just a child - but you hadn't grown up in Gotham, so you weren't too sure about the details of the case.

“Hmm, I think he was eight,” Jason supplies, doing his best to stay focused despite your soothing touch. “Why?”

Eight?! That must have been horrible! “And did he … have a lot of other family to take care of him?”

He was rich - obscenely so - and he had a house big enough to rival the President's! So of course he must have had some wealthy aunt or uncle who'd taken him in after his parents died.

“No,” Jason mumbles, starting to lose the battle against sleep. “He just had Alfred.”

Your heart squeezes in your chest, hurting on behalf of the little boy who'd had to grow up almost completely alone, no parents, no siblings, no one at all who understood his circumstances and gave him a reason to keep living.

“But … How did he keep living? In spite of it all?”

Jason hums softly, not quite registering the question as he splays his limbs out across you. “I don't know. How do any of us?”

You swallow down the lump in your throat and resolve to forget about it. For now, at least.

You wake up earlier than Jason the next morning - a rare feat, especially considering that it's almost noon - and head to the kitchen to get some coffee after taking a shower. You're surprised to find Bruce already doing the exact same thing, but he greets you with a welcoming smile.

“Need any help?” he asks, giving you enough space to stand in front of the machine. You study the various buttons and knobs, trying to see if you can puzzle it out yourself. But in the end, you decide that it's probably better to just let him handle it.

“Um, yes, please!” you agree sheepishly, stepping aside and letting him take over. “Can I just have a latte?”

He gets to work making you your coffee, then invites you to join him in the garden outside. You clutch your cup tightly, refusing to make it so easy for him to get into your good graces, but you join him anyway, intrigued to find out more about this man who had forsaken your precious Jason when he'd been just a child. You sit in silence for an uncomfortably long amount of time, refusing to start the conversation first. So Bruce begins.

“My kids have told me that they think you’re really good for Jason,” he tells you softly, gazing out at his beautifully staged garden. He turns to you and his gaze bounces between your face and the table as he continues speaking. “I’m glad … I’m glad that he’s finally found someone … who makes it easier.”

He chose his words carefully, unsure of how much you knew about Jason’s life, so you decided to enlighten him. “He told me … everything.”

Bruce lifts his head and fixes you with a surprised - and wary - look.

“I know … about his parents and Red Hood and … and The Joker.” Your voice grows soft at the last part, your heart aching at the memory of everything he’d told you. You slide your gaze over to Bruce, who’s lowered his head at the revelation that Jason really had told you everything. You narrow your eyes at the look of shame on his face and the rage begins to take over you. “I know … what you did after he came back - or, really, what you didn’t do. Were your morals so important that you couldn’t … Didn’t you think …”

You clench your fists, trying to find the words to convey your emotions. Finally, you push yourself out of your seat, your features hard with the same righteous anger that Jason always wore. “I love Jason! I think he’s the most wonderful, sweetest, most caring human being I have ever known in my life! He deserves the world and everything more! And you …”

You dig your nails into your palms then force yourself to take a deep breath, letting the anger pass through you.

“I agree.” He says it so quietly that you almost miss it. Then he holds your gaze and repeats the words. “I agree with you. Jason deserves everything he never thought … he was good enough for.”

He clasps his hands together, fidgeting with his fingers as he tries to figure out how to continue. “I …”

I was wrong? I did my best? I’d do it differently if I could go back in time and fix it? The excuses leaped to the tip of his tongue, but they were all lies. Jason Todd had always been Jason Todd, and it didn’t matter how many times he ran over the millions of different scenarios in his mind: the two of them would have always ended up in the same stalemate in the end. Because Bruce Wayne had always been Bruce Wayne too.

Bruce sits back and returns his gaze to his garden, serene and calm and the opposite of everything his life had ever been. “Is he still going to therapy?”

You grit your teeth, irritated by the sudden change of topic. But you’ve loved Jason Todd everyday for almost two years now: you knew how to look for the subtle shifts in his expression, the small ticks and habits that gave away his emotions when he was working so hard to hide them. So you don’t miss the tightness of Bruce’s jaw and the tension in his biceps and the minute shifting of his shoes as he probably wriggled his toes in them.

“Yes,” you sigh, sitting back down again. “He’s doing a lot better.”

“Good.” Bruce nods slowly. “Good. And his … Has he had any attacks recently?”

He turns to you, his eyes overflowing with concern, and the final remnants of your anger leave you. “He’s had a few, but they’ve been getting less over time. And he’s gotten better at dealing with them.”

Bruce nods again. “I’ve heard about this … tapping technique? Apparently it can help with anxiety if you tap certain places on your body? I can send you a few links if you think it might help him?”

And suddenly, he’s not Bruce Wayne, the untouchable billionaire with the practised smile, nor is he Batman, the sour vigilante who thinks he knows better than everyone. He was Bruce Wayne, the little boy who’d lost the most important people in his life and been forced to learn how to grow up without them. The little boy who fought so desperately every single night to make sure that no one else would ever have to go through the same things he had. The little boy who still couldn’t figure out why no one had thought that he was worth saving. Just like Jason Todd.

And now you understand. Bruce Wayne had never forsaken Jason Todd. He’d never abandoned him or chosen anyone else over his precious second son. He just hadn’t known how to save the little boy who’d been forced to grow up on his own, who fought every single night to make sure no other child suffered the same fate as him, who had never been able to figure out why he hadn’t been worth saving. He hadn’t known how to save himself.

“That’d be great,” you tell Bruce, giving him a warm smile. His lips curl at the ends in response and he sits back again, lighter now that you seemed to have forgiven him. “And Bruce? Thank you for saving Jason.”

Bruce lets out a self-deprecating chuckle and shakes his head in disagreement. “I didn’t-”

“You did,” you tell him, firm in your conviction now. “You saved that little boy from a rough life on the streets. You helped him live again after he came back. You gave me the Jason Todd that I know and love today. So if you think that there’s anything I’ve done to save him, it’s only because you saved him enough first for him to get to me.”

Bruce stares at you for a minute, his expression unreadable. Then finally, he smiles. “You know, I guess my kids were right about you after all.”

And that was why you and Bruce got along so well, you would think to yourself any time Jason would ask you about it. Because Bruce Wayne had always been Bruce Wayne, but he’d done the best he could to make sure that Jason Todd always stayed Jason Todd; that no matter how hard the world shoved him to the ground, no matter how strongly he believed there was nothing in him worth loving, the world needed Jason Todd. The world needed someone who would do the right thing, even when it was difficult - especially when it was difficult. You smile and ruffle Jason’s hair.

“Because Bruce Wayne has always been Bruce Wayne,” you tell him in response. Jason rolls his eyes at your usual vague answer, but his lips curl at the ends like they always do. He lies down, resting his head on your lap, and you stroke his hair softly as the two of you continue watching your movie.

So yeah! Those are my thoughts 🤔😋.

#jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood smut #red hood fanfiction #red hood #jason todd x oc #jason todd fic #red hood fic #dc x y/n #dc x you #dc x reader #dc smut #dc fanfic

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rosenclaws · 12 days ago

Text

Sugar and Spice || Baker!Logan x Reader

summary: Logan has found work as a baker for a nice but cranky woman named Zelda. He never expected to find his place doing something like baking and he really never expected to find himself growing a crush on one of his customers.

warnings: fluff, some suggestive comments here and there

a/n: baker logan is here! I really hope it lives up to the hype because I was kinda unhappy with some of it whle writing. It tried to fix it so I hope its enjoyable <3

art in the banner done by @cherrybonbonss

Time can't move any slower apparently. Logan sighs as he leans against the counter, waiting for Zelda to get back from her errands. Logan had no business taking orders in the front of the bakery. He doesn't do customer service. Ever.

In fact the only reason he's here is because of Zelda. She owns the bakery he's currently working at. He doesn't know how that nice old lady saw someone like him and decided he'd be the perfect fit but she did and he will forever be grateful. She joked that she only hired him because he could reach the high shelves and lift the big bags of sugar but she saw beneath his tough outer shell.

It was a small bakery. Logan and Zelda being the only employees really. He would come in every day and make the bread and pastries while she came in a little later to run the front. She taught him everything. All her old tricks and recipe's were past down to Logan as she's grown too old to be waking up and performing such intense labor.

That worked for Logan. Turns out he had quite the knack for this whole baking thing. Not so much the decorating part but luckily most of the decorated items didn't have to be pretty. He stayed in the back and he was happy that way. But today Zelda had to go home early and Logan was stuck in the front. He had his back to the door, flipping through some magazine that Zelda had left when he hears a soft voice calling for his help.

"Hi, are you guys still open?" Logan turns around to see you standing there, a slightly nervous look on your face as you play with the strap of your bag.

As cliché as it sounds, Logan could feel the air being sucked from his lungs. His heart pounding in his chest as he meets your eyes. He can't remember the last time he felt this way. He doesn't believe in all the soulmate love at first sight crap that exists in those movies that Wade loves to watch but he can't deny the flutter in his stomach as you flash a pretty smile. His palms growing sweaty as he tries to shake the feeling off. He stands up a little straighter, tossing the magazine to the side to give you his full attention.

"Yes we're open, how can I help you?" Logan leans on the counter as you observe the different pastries in the display case.

"I'm not sure what to get, everything looks so good." You say shyly.

You've passed by this place every day for the past week. Catching glimpses of the handsome man in front of you but never building up the courage to actually walk in. Until today that is, it took a small self pep talk but you walked in dead set on having an actual conversation with the man. You saw his nametag, Logan. What a nice name.

"Well if you have any questions I made everything in there." Logan says.

"Seriously? That's so cool." Logan just shrugs, to him he's just doing his job.

"What's your favorite?" You ask. Logan thinks for a moment before reaching into the case and pulling out a chocolate muffin.

"These, I always add more chocolate chips than I'm supposed to." He unwraps the muffin and hands it to you. Your eyes lighting up as you take a bite of it.

"Oh my god, this is the best thing I've ever tasted." You groan as you taste the deliciously warm muffin.

"You flatter me sweetheart," Logan flirts. He can hear your heart beating faster in your chest. You pull out your wallet ready to pay but Logan stops you.

"It's on the house." He says, pushing another muffin that he had wrapped up in a box towards you.

"Are you sure?" You feel guilty not paying for two muffins but Logan just nods.

"Special deal we got going on." He says, not elaborating any further. If you had asked about the special deal he doesn't know what he'd actually say. If he thinks you're attractive you get free pastries? You take the muffins and place them in your bag.

"Thank you Logan." You shift on your feet, not wanting to say goodbye yet.

"We're debuting some new cupcakes tomorrow, if you want to stop by I'll let you have first pick." Logan blurts out.

"Sounds yummy, I'll be there. Same time work okay?" You ask.

"Perfect, see you tomorrow." Logan says with a wink, taking pride in the way your heart skips.

You wave goodbye and hurry out of the store, trying to stay calm and not melt into a puddle just yet. Logan sighs once you leave, running his hands through his hair as he realizes he has to make up some cupcake flavor now. They don't even sell cupcakes here but fuck he couldn't help himself. He had to see you again. He heads to the back and starts rummaging through the ingredients, seeing if there was anything he could use to make cupcakes. He's so wrapped up in his search that he doesn't hear Zelda come back through the doors.

"What on earth are you doing?" She scolds, seeing Logan pushing around inventory like a mad man.

"Nothing." Logan mumbles. She just looks at him with an unamused look on her face, clearly not buying it.

"You got any cupcake recipes in that old brain of yours?" He asks making her scoff.

"Old? That's rich coming from you." She teases. Still she walks over to her office and rummages through some papers. Pulling out an old strawberry cupcake recipe. Logan reaches out for it but she pulls it back.

"Why the sudden interest in cupcakes Logan?" She asks, a subtle smirk on her lips.

Reluctantly Logan spills the reason. Zelda just laughs, handing him the recipe and telling him not to fuck it up. The flirting only works if he can actually make good cupcakes. Despite her teasing Zelda finds it absolutely adorable. It reminds her of her husband. Stubborn, grumpy, clueless, but loving. She watches as he carefully reads over the recipe, making sure he understands every step. Not wanting to mess anything up.

"Ah young love, how cute." She says, pinching his cheeks. Logan bats her hand away gently.

"Oh shut up."

"Quit staring at the clock you look like a sad puppy." Zelda scolds.

Logan just scoffs and rolls his eyes. He does not look like a sad puppy. He's just. Watching the door a little more than usual.

"They'll be here, don't know who could resist the charm of a recovering alcoholic baker."

"Don't you have a hip replacement to go to or something?" Logan shoots back. Zelda huffs and ruffles his hair making Logan laugh. The door chimes and Logan straightens up. Smiling when he sees you walking towards him. Zelda notices his immediate change and smirks, leaving the front to let Logan flirt.

"Hey there sweetheart, you came back."

"Well you promised cupcakes so." Plus you wanted to see Logan again. Logan opens up the case and hands you a strawberry cupcake. Before he can say anything else you hand him a ten. "I will pay for this one, no buts." You slide it towards him and he reluctantly takes it.

"Fine, but just this once." He puts the 10 in the register, watching you take a bite of the cupcake out of the corner of his eye.

"How is it?"

"Fucking great." You don't know how he does it.

"You have a gift or something Logan. Seriously you're amazing." You gush.

For the first time in a while Logan feels his face run hot. He's not used to being praised for anything. This whole, creating over destroying thing was new to him. So to have you honestly tell him he's amazing. Well it just makes him a little nervous.

"Ah it's nothing sweetheart, just testing out old recipes." He lies right through his teeth. But the smile on your face makes it all worth it.

"Well, whenever you decide to debut anything new let me know because I'll be first in line." You say with a smile.

An idea pops into Logan's head. He knows its a bad idea, the amount of work he's about to have to do is going to double. But to see you again it would be worth it.

"We're actually debuting a new treat each week, you know to keep things interesting." He hears Zelda snort laugh from the back and turns to glare at her. She was just eating this up. You gently fold the cupcake wrapper and place it in the trash.

"I'll see you next week then, I'm excited to see what you create." Logan watches as you leave, a smile on his face.

"A new item every week? Good luck with that." Zelda gently whacks Logan on the back of his head. He frowns and rubs the back of his head.

"I can do it, besides it will keep things interesting." He says, trying to justify his reasoning.

"Why can't you just be a normal person and ask them out?" Zelda asks making Logan roll his eyes.

"Oh Shut up."

True to both of your words you show up at the same time every week and Logan has a new delicious treat waiting for you every time. Much to your dismay he refuses to let you pay for any of it. He says its because he made too many or because the batch was off so its not good enough to sell but you have a feeling that he's lying. This goes on for a while.

At least two months of this flirty back and forth yet neither of you will make the first move. It was driving Zelda crazy. Young love is cute but she's sick of watching the two of you make puppy dog eyes and stare longingly and not doing a damn thing about it. She decides its time to take matters into her own hands.

"Logan dear, can you go start the dough for tomorrow. We have a large order I need help prepping." She says sweetly.

Logan hesitates to leave when you're standing at the counter but you tell him to go, you don't want to distract him from his job. Once Logan leaves Zelda turns to you, smiling that sweet old lady smile that no one can resist.

"You know dear, I'm offering baking classes soon and since you're always here, I was wondering if you'd be interested! First class is free." Zelda reaches her hand out and gently takes yours. How could you say no to such a sweet lady?

"I would love to, that sounds like a lot of fun." Her eyes light up and she squeezes your hand.

"Perfect! It starts at 7pm tomorrow night." She writes down the information and hands it to you. She can see you searching for Logan for just a second before saying goodbye. Once you leave she smirks, time for the second part of her plan.

"Logan. I need your help. I hired a new baker to help with the store and I need you to train them." Logan groans, that's the last thing he wants to do.

"Fuck no, I don't teach." He grumbles.

"You have such a dirty mouth you know that son?" She says with the shake of her head.

"Just this once, my back has been killing me and my doctor said I need to take better care of myself." The guilt trip seems to work on Logan as he just sighs.

"Fine. But you owe me." He teases.

"Tomorrow at 7pm. Just show them the ropes is all."

"Yeah yeah, now stop bothering me and let me get back to work." As Logan goes back to kneading dough Zelda just smiles, knowing that her plan is bound to work and she could finally end the mutual pining from both of you.

As you enter the store at 7 you look around for Zelda, it feels weird being here after hours. Like you were trespassing. You see the lights on in the kitchen and slowly make your way over there. Though when you poke your head in you don't see Zelda.

"Logan?" He looks up and his eyes widen in shock.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" "Zelda told me she's starting baking classes...to meet her here at 7..." You suddenly feel very nervous. To be here alone with Logan. Logan sighs, leaning against the counter he starts to piece together what's happened.

"She told me we had a new hire that I had to train." You tilt your head to the side.

"Oh? I wonder why she'd tell us such different things." Logan knows why. She's trying to set him up.

He could tell you to go home and then scold Zelda later. But you came all this way and if he's honest getting the chance to spend some alone time with you isn't a bad idea.

"Because she likes to meddle." Logan says with a huff.

"I can go, you seem busy." You don't want to force Logan to stay here if he doesn't want to but he stops you from leaving.

"Don't worry, I can show you a few things if you want." He offers.

"I can show you how to make those cupcakes you practically devoured last week." He teases. You scoff as you put your bag down.

"I did not devour them. I just. Ate multiple because they were very yummy. If anything that's your fault mister." You say as you poke his chest. You can't help but feel how firm it is.

"Oh my fault? Sorry for being good at my job sweetheart." Logan jokes, he pulls out the recipe for the cupcakes and hands it to you. Time seems to fly by as the two of you practice making them. He lets you do most of the work, hovering around you and helping when you get stuck.

"No no, you don't want to whisk like that. You want to go more side to side." He tells you. The cupcakes are in the oven and now he's teaching you how to make homemade frosting.

"Like this?" You ask as you try to do what he says.

"No, more like this." Your breath hitches as Logan stands behind you.

His big arms wrapping around to guide your hand. One resting on the bowl right next to yours and the other one gently grabbing your hand. He guides your hand in the right movement but you can barely pay attention to what he's saying. To focused on his chest against your back and his warm hands on top of yours.

"That make sense?" He says and you nod mindlessly.

"Yep!" You squeak out. He can feel your heart racing, worry starting to cloud his mind. Is he overstepping? Do you even want this? Slowly he lets go, letting you whisk on your own.

"Actually, do you think you could show me again?" You ask. Heart pounding as Logan slowly nods his head. His arms wrapping around you once again.

"You sure you need me to? You're getting the hang of it already." His hands gently slide over yours. Resting his rough hands on your soft ones. It feels like heaven.

"Logan..." Your voice trails off as you debate asking him the question that's been fluttering around in your head for the past month.

"Yeah?" He asks, just as nervous as you seem to be. Slowly you turn around to face him, his hands now resting on the counter behind you, caging you in.

"You got something on your face." You mumble, reaching up to wipe away the bit of flour.

He grabs your wrist. Keeping it close to his face as he stares deep into your eyes. Like magnetic attraction the two of you slowly start to lean in closer to each other. Words unsaid but the feelings are there. The moment your lips touch is magical for lack of a better word.

His lips are just as soft as you thought they were. He tastes like sugar. Logan lets go of your wrist to wrap his arms around your waist, hoisting you up onto the counter so he can kiss you deeper. Your legs wrapping around his waist as you run your fingers through his hair. With a low groan he breaks the kiss. Panting as he moves his lips down your jaw to your neck. His hands are covered in flour and he's getting it everywhere but fuck you could care less.

"Shit, I've been wanting to do that since I first laid eyes on you sweetheart." Logan purrs as he pulls you closer to him.

"Me too." You pant as you grab onto his shirt. He leans in for another kiss but he suddenly stops. He sniffs the air before scrambling away from you and running to the oven.

"Fuck!" He pulls out the tray of now burnt cupcakes. The two of you had completely lost track of time.

"Oops..." You say as you wave the smoke away from your face. With a sigh Logan dumps the cupcakes into the trash.

"Sorry sweetheart, so much for a baking lesson." He sighs as he starts to clean up the mess left on the counter.

"That's okay, maybe I could come back for another lesson?" You ask, putting on your best flirty eyes. Logan looks over at you and smirks.

"I could do that, but maybe you should come by my place for them instead. It's more...intimate." He offers, he places his hand on your back and pulls you closer to him. You place your hands on his chest and smile.

"I could make that work, anything to learn the secrets of the best baker in town." You run your hands down his chest, feeling his abs through the thin fabric of his shirt.

"Oh I can show you a lot of things sweetheart." Logan purrs, nipping at your ear.

"Come by my place this Saturday at 6 for your first lesson." Logan hands you a slip of paper, jotting down his number and his address.

"Do you need help cleaning up?"

"Nah, I got it. Don't worry your pretty head about it." He says with a wink. You lean in and kiss his cheek, dusting some of the flour that was on his face.

"See you Saturday Logan." He watches with a dopey smile on his face as you walk out of the store. Smirking when he sees the flour handprints on your back. As he starts clean up he hears the phone ring.

"The hell?" He grumbles as he goes over and picks up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Are you two together yet? Did you finally get her number?" Zeldas voice comes through the call and Logan rolls his eyes.

"Oh shut up," Logan says, though she can tell he's smiling through the damn phone.

"Make sure to thank me at the wedding Logan." She taunts and Logan just shakes his head. Admitting she was right might be hard for Logan but her little plan did work. He really does owe a lot to that old lady.

"By the way, don't forget I have cameras in the kitchen. Don't even think about getting all down and dirty in my shop."

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #baker!logan #baker!logan x reader #logan howlett fluff

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greenwitchfromthewoods · 8 months ago

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broken trust. [part1] l Joel Miller

Summary: you used to be very close, but he broke your heart, now your paths have crossed again

Warnings: angst, guns, knife, blood, violence, swearing, mentions of sex, alcohol, Ellie appears

A/N: i wanted to write something for Joel (again, I’m sorry...) and i'll break it up into a few parts. hope everything goes as i planned. something like lovers to enemies to friends to lovers. do you understand any of this, because i don't? i hope my scribbles don't scare you off. thanks for reading and feedback in any form. 🖤

"Fuck!"

You hit the wall with such force that the air left your lungs and for a moment you lost your breath. Your back hurt like hell, but you didn't have time to focus on the pain.

Focus!

You should have been more careful, but the noises from the ground floor of the building distracted you. The man took advantage of this moment, hitting you so hard that you hit the wall, badly bruising your back.

"Get up, you little slut!" he growled, approaching you and kicking you painfully in the stomach.

The gun slipped out of your hand and even though you blindly groped the concrete floor, your fingers couldn't find it.

"I said - GET UP!" he roared, grabbing you by the jacket and lifting you up, then pressing you hard against the wall. "You thought you could catch me by surprise, huh? Stupid bitch!"

His hand tightened around your throat. You tried to push him away, but the man was bigger than you, so all you could do was struggle like a fish caught in a net.

"You should know your place." he hissed, seeing you struggling for breath. "Don't mess with people bigger than you."

"I-I can't d-do that." you whispered with difficulty.

"What? What the fuck did you say?"

But he didn't find out what you said. You pulled your leg up and with your free hand reached for the short knife hidden in your boot.

It had to be fast.

And accurate.

You didn't have a second chance.

Focus!

You hit the man's exposed neck, the silver blade smoothly cutting through his skin, piercing into his flesh. The hands clenched around your neck immediately let go of you as he fell to his knees, then to the floor with a dull sound.

You took a few deep breaths. Too much time wasted.

You noticed your gun a few steps away from you and quickly picked it up, heading towards the stairs to find the source of the noise.

The building should have been abandoned, at least that's what it looked like. Broken windows, grass growing on the lower roofs, a few rusty barrels. They had to be some kind of warehouse.

"Don't aim at her, asshole!"

A loud male voice echoed through the empty interior. You quickened your pace, but now you were more careful, more focused. You noticed a slightly ajar door and slipped into the room.

It must have once been a hall or something. Moving behind the shelves, you headed for the source of the raised voices.

"Tell the kid to put the gun down!" a male, low voice rang out very clearly, you saw the outline of a male silhouette.

"Ellie, do what he says!"

"No!" a girlish, terrified, but also determined voice reached your ears now.

"Put the fucking gun down!"

You heard the sound of a gun falling. You were so close now that you could see the attacker clearly.

The old leather jacket he was wearing was already pretty worn out on the back. You could see the shoes and legs of the girl who was in front of him, covering someone kneeling on the ground.

"Let us go!" The girl, whose name was Ellie, tried to control the situation. "We won't tell anyone you're here."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" The man aimed a gun at her. "I should kill the old man, have some fun with you, and then, together with my buddies, find the place you came from. That's close, right? Tell me!"

"Oh, shut the fuck up!"

The sound of your voice echoed through the room so suddenly that everyone froze. They looked around nervously, and then a shot rang out. The girl squealed as the man standing right in front of her fell, and a blood stain began to appear on the floor.

She quickly jumped to her gun, trying to find the shooter or where the shot came from. Then she noticed you as you came out from behind the shelf. You still had the gun in one hand, but you raised your arms in surrender.

"Is everything okay with you?" you asked. "Did he hurt you?"

"No, not me, but him..."

You glanced at the man on the floor. He was holding his arm, his fingers covered in blood. You saw dark hair interspersed with gray, wide shoulders, dark eyes that seemed familiar to you.

"It's you?" you whispered in surprise.

Your footsteps echoed down the staircase as you ran up the dusty stairs. First...second...third floor. You ran to the door and opened it with the key.

"Joel?"

You spotted him dozing on the couch with one arm folded above his head, the other lying on his stomach. You smiled at the sight and quickly went inside. He opened his eyes at the sound of the door closing.

"Hi. What kept you?" he asked, sitting up and rubbing his face with his hands.

He didn't even know when he fell asleep waiting for you. It was dark outside and you were already a few hours late. However, he saw that you were safe and sound, and he sighed with relief.

"We're going to celebrate today!" you chirped happily, placing your bag on the table, and something strangely knocked on it.

"Celebrate what?" Joel asked, standing up and stretching.

Two glasses appeared in your hands. He saw your face light up with excitement and a big smile on your lips. God! He loved your smile. In a place like QZ it was his most precious treasure.

You pulled a bottle, of what Joel recognized as whiskey, out of your bag.

"Where the hell did you get that?" he asked as you started pouring the drink "What happened, Y/N?"

"We did it! We did it, Joel!" you repeated and then pushed the glass into his hand "I can't believe it! I talked to Howard, that smuggling guy from the other end of the zone."

Joel choked on his drink.

"Howard? I told you not to go to him alone." he said, frowning.

"Oh, listen to me!" you put your glass down without taking a sip, you were so excited that emotions were pouring out of you in buckets "Howard knows someone who can get us a car. A car that actually works!"

"Bullshit! He doesn't know anyone."

"But I talked to that guy!" you were pacing around the room the whole time. "He wants a lot, but we should be able to handle it. I thought about it the whole way here. This is our chance, Joel!"

He was leaning against the kitchen table and watching you carefully. He didn't know what was worse, the fact that you went to Howard by yourself and met up with another strange guy, your excitement, or the fact that he would have to brutally bring you back down to earth.

This was your dream, and Joel had instilled it in you months ago. He knew that you always wanted to live outside of Boston. Ever since he met you a few years ago, he had seen the part of you that wanted something normal so badly. It irritated him at first, but then, as you started spending more and more time together - you were a really good smuggler - he loved it.

You were his bright spot in this gloomy place, someone he came back to and who was important to him. You filled some empty place in his heart, and that was good.

So when you had a really bad moment in your life Joel wanted to give you some of that hope too. He started spinning a story that maybe one day you'd find a car and escape from this place. Find a safe haven somewhere else, maybe another settlement, maybe you'd go find Tommy, his brother.

And you totally bought into it. It didn't bother him, until now. Joel knew that those dreams were like houses of cards, they could collapse very easily.

"Are you listening to me?"

Your voice brought him back to reality.

"Y-Yeah, this all sounds...great." he replied uncertainly and took another sip of whiskey. "Are you sure you want this?"

"We both talked about it." You laughed, walking up to him and wrapping your arms around his waist, your warm lips finding his and brushing them gently. "We just have to plan everything, but I'm sure we'll figure it out."

He brushed your hair away and smiled. His heart ached because he already knew how badly he'd screwed it all up.

And even that night when you made love, when you moaned his name as his cock moved inside you, your words kept replaying in his head. Like a broken record. He kissed your lips, caressed your body, and at the same time he wanted to apologize to you for everything he had to do.

"Can you walk?"

You were proud of yourself that your voice didn't shake. Joel nodded. His eyes were wide as he stared at you like he'd seen a ghost.

"That asshole shot him." The girl said.

You gave her a quick look, then walked over to Joel to see his arm. His jacket was bloody, but it didn't look too bad.

"It's a superficial wound. He'll be fine. Just a lot of blood." You stated. "Ellie, yeah?" The girl nodded. "Will you help me?"

You and the girl picked Joel up. You could feel his gaze on you, but you avoided it.

Focus!

You had to help them get out of here.

"Do you have a car or something?" You asked.

The girl shook her head.

"Great. So you must be from Jackson." You stated. "Come on, I'll take you there. He needs to see a doctor."

"Wait!" Ellie looked at Joel confused. "Can we trust her?"

The man nodded.

"Yeah. We can." He cleared his throat and added "This guy said he had friends with him."

"Yeah, he did. There were four of them."

"You killed them? All of them?" The girl's eyes widened in surprise "What are you? A serial killer or something?"

"Like all of us, right? Come on, it'll be dark soon."

You led them out of the building and through the small parking lot at the end of which your car was parked. You opened the door and pulled out a first aid kit from under the seat.

"I can only give you something to stop the bleeding." You said, looking into the box.

"No need." Joel replied.

"Don't be stubborn. Take this." You pressed the bandage into his hand and threw the first aid kit inside. "Hop in kid, I'll take you home."

The girl happily climbed into the back seat. Miller, however, was still standing by you. It was hard to avoid him, feeling his eyes piercing through your skin.

"How did you find us?" he asked.

"I wasn't looking for you, I was looking for them. For a few days." You replied, looking at him. "I came across them a while ago, they were looking for a place to stay. I think they heard about Jackson or something."

"They didn't seem nice."

Your gaze went to his shoulder. He pressed the bandage, but he seemed to be feeling better.

"And they weren't." You mumbled. "Come on, we're not just going to stand here."

You opened the car door and were already getting in when Joel spoke again.

"Y/N, thanks."

"You're welcome."

[PART 2]

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

#joel miller #pedro pascal #the last of us #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader

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honeydjarin · 1 year ago

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MOUSE IN THE KITCHEN

OPLA SANJI X SHORT!READER

Luffy isn’t the only one with a penchant for sneaking into the kitchen.

request: Hiii, if you want to I'd like to request a Sanji x short reader, where they try and help him out in the kitchen but can't reach anything. No pressure, just wondering

genre: fluff

word count: 2,000

a/n: normally I avoid any sort of specific physical features in my fics in order to make them as inclusive as possible, but as someone who must climb the shelves at the grocery store in order to reach anything, this request spoke to me. This one is a little silly and nothing but fluff. I hope you enjoy!

It’s late. The sun sank below the horizon long ago, leaving no trace of the adventures and games that took place during the daylight hours. Everyone else on the Going Merry is asleep. You really should be sleeping too, and you had been, not too long ago.

You don’t know what it is that stirred you from your slumber. Perhaps some noise as the ship rocks on lazy waves, or a crew mate talking just a bit too loud in their sleep. It doesn’t matter, really. What does matter is the thoughts that worm their way into your mind the longer you lie awake. Thoughts of something light, something sweet, something to satiate a craving, your body convinced it’s time for breakfast despite your mind knowing dawn is hours away. It doesn’t take long for the hollow ache in your stomach to drive you from the comfort of your hammock and up towards the galley.

You know the kitchen on the ship well. You know which floorboards creak and which are safe to step on, where the chef hides traps for Luffy and how to circumvent them, where all of the ingredients to satiate your sweet tooth are hiding.

Just thinking about the reason for your intimate knowledge of the ship’s kitchen is enough to send heat racing up your neck and settling beneath your cheeks. You press your fingers to the skin where your burning blood pools beneath the surface, taking a moment to relish in the sugar sweet feeling of a simple crush—a single name swirling through your brain is all it takes to leave you giggling quietly in the night.

Sanji, the newest member of the Straw Hat Crew. Sanji, the one who will never let another go hungry, not even a stranger. Sanji, the man with sun soaked hair and a honey dipped tongue.

Sanji.

When the chef first joined the crew, you admired him. He was caring and steady, he knew what he believed in. With his handsome looks, quick wit, and open flirtations, it didn’t take long for that admiration to slip into something that felt sweetly like affection. You couldn’t help but want to spend more time with the cook, hoping to join him in the activities that bring him the most joy so that you might better understand him. It didn’t take long for you to become nearly as familiar with the galley as he is.

You step into the kitchen, closing the door quietly behind you. You leave the lights off, not wanting to risk anyone else catching you in the galley (or getting the idea to grab a snack themselves). Instead, you stand in the dark, waiting for your eyes to adjust. Moonlight spills through the windows of the room, bright enough to see by, if you’re patient.

It isn’t long before you’re able to move again, walking along a familiar path towards where Sanji stores all things sugary.

There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach that you’re doing something you shouldn’t. Like if you have to sneak around then you’re in a place you don’t belong. This is Sanji’s space, cataloged and organized to best suit his needs and ensure the crew has enough supplies to last between islands. It feels strange to be in the kitchen without the sound of his laughter or the smell of something delicious cooking on the stove top.

Sanji’s presence is the piece that makes this space feel so comfortable. Without him, it feels too large, hollow. The galley has no life without its chef. You never really thought about how the kitchen would feel without him in it, and can’t help but hope it isn’t a feeling you become used to.

You know if you wake up the cook he will make something for you. He would rub the sleep from his eyes, only half succeeding, before asking what he could make to help satiate your craving with a smile. You would feel guilty the whole time.

It’s better to sneak through the galley for something you can find on your own than to disturb Sanji’s sleep.

The first thing you search for is chocolate. You crawl onto the countertop, balancing on your knees as your feet dangle over the edge, before opening the cabinet in front of you. You eye the chocolate chips, the miniature sweets sitting at a level seemingly so easy for the rest of the crew to grab. You doubt any of the others would have to climb to reach them.

Unfortunately, the only chocolate on the shelf is unsweetened. The lack of added sugar may be perfect for baking, but they won’t be sweet enough for your taste on their own.

You begin to drop down from the countertop, fully intending to continue your search for the perfect treat. Your feet drop to the ground quietly, and you land in an almost crouch. Perfect, the ship is silent, as it should be. You straighten up, intending to continue your search, but your knees, still tight from your recent slumber, crack as you stand. The sound rings out in the otherwise silent kitchen like a gunshot.

Maybe your creaking joints wouldn’t be a problem in a normal kitchen, but Sanji, who has ears attuned to any slight sound coming from the Galley (thanks to Luffy’s many attempts to raid the space at odd hours for food), surely heard the pop in his sleep. You may as well have knocked down all of the pots and shattered all of the dishes.

It isn’t long before the sound of hurried footsteps and frustrated grumbling reaches your ears. The door to the galley slams open, lights flickering on just a moment after, leaving you squinting as your eyes adjust to the room once more.

“Luffy, I swear if you touched any of the food I’ll—oh.” Sanji’s voice carries through the kitchen, his accent thicker than normal, sleep still clinging to his words. Your name rolls off his tongue, and you think it sounds sweeter in his sleep-addled voice than any chocolate could taste.

“Sorry, Sanji. I didn’t mean to wake you. I was just a little hungry,” you confess.

“You could have woken me up,” he says, just like you knew he would. “I’d have been happy to cook something for you.”

“I didn’t want to bother you. You deserve to rest. Especially when you already wake up so early each morning to make breakfast.”

Sanji hums, stepping farther into the kitchen. He looks more awake now than he did when he first arrived. His eyes don’t stray from your own as he speaks, no longer concerned about the state of the galley.

“For you, love, it’s never a bother.” The smile he offers you sends your heart fluttering in your chest. “Anyway, I’m awake now. What would you like to eat?”

He’s too good to you, too gentle. How could your heart ever stand a chance?

“I was just planning on eating a little chocolate, but it seems like there's only the unsweetened kind right now.”

“Ah, of course. Only something sweet would be fitting for my sweetheart.”

Your breath catches in your throat. His. He called you his.

You bring your hand up to your mouth, trying to hide the growing grin that spreads on your lips as you nearly melt from his words. The warmth blossoming in your chest will surely turn you into a puddle on the floor, and then Sanji will know just how much his words affect you (if he doesn’t know already).

“Can we make something with chocolate in it?” you ask.

“We?” Sanji repeats, as if he didn’t expect you to help him in this task. His gaze softens, eyes gleaming with something like affection, before adding. “Of course we can. How do strawberry and chocolate hand pies sound? I picked up some fresh jam at the last port.”

“It sounds perfect,” you say. It’s far more than you hoped to find during your late night search. When you got out of bed, you never would have guessed what kind of sweet you would find in the kitchen. You definitely didn’t expect to spend time baking with Sanji.

The two of you work comfortably together, only speaking when Sanji provides specific instructions or when you need clarification. The hazy fog of sleep still hovers over the both of you, even if you’re both awake enough now to function.

“Could you grab the chocolate chips for me?” Sanji asks.

It’s a simple request, one you can easily complete. You know where he keeps the chocolate chips, the unsweetened treat seeming much more appealing now that they’re going to be baked into something.

You make your way back over to the counter, situating yourself below the cabinet where the chocolate is stored. Then, you place your hands on the cool surface, preparing to make the climb. You’re certain Sanji knew this was the path necessary for you to take to reach the ingredient too. There’s no way for you to reach the chocolate chips without being higher up.

As you jump, using the force of your arms to help pull yourself up towards the counter just like you’ve done in other kitchens many times before, an unexpected force settles on your shoulders, pushing your feet back towards the ground.

“None of that, sweetheart. There will be no climbing on the countertops in my kitchen,” Sanji reprimands. He’s gentle in his scolding, the uptick of his lips and gleam in his eye letting you know he’s not really mad. “Sorry, I thought they were a bit lower.”

He doesn’t seem sorry.

You open your mouth to protest against what could only be meant as a jab about your height, but only a squeak comes out. Sanji’s warmth seeps into your back as he presses close, the shape of his hand burning into your hip as it settles there. You can feel the way his body stretches as he reaches up, leaning further into you, before easily grabbing the bag that seemed so far out of your reach. Any words you might have had to tell off the man for doing something for you when you could easily do the task yourself (as long as you could climb on the counter) fizzle out.

Sanji doesn’t look at you as he reaches for the chocolate, but the easy smile on his lips morphs into a lazy smirk. His thumb rubs slow, intentional circles where his hand remains steady on your hip, as if he was soothing a startled animal, coaxing you to stay close instead of running away, something you just might have done if he wasn’t purposefully grounding you while your thoughts soared.

Oh no, you think. He knows.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise that Sanji was already aware of your feelings for him—you’ve always worn your heart on your sleeve—but you had tried not to make your feelings for the chef too obvious.

Sanji pulls the chocolate chips down, but he doesn’t step away. He still holds you close as he bends, his face lowering until it’s right beside yours. Then, without warning, his lips are pressed to the curve of your cheek.

The kiss is quick, feather-light, but you’re certain he can feel the way your blood burns just beneath the surface of your skin, his quiet mumble of so warm the only confirmation you need, even if you weren’t meant to hear.

“Sorry, sweetheart, I just couldn’t help myself.” Before you can react, Sanji steps away from you, taking you in for only a moment longer before turning back to the task at hand. With how smoothly he acted, there’s no way he hadn’t planned that little stunt he pulled.

He definitely knows.

Sanji is already placing the hand pies in the oven by the time you’re finally able to move again, and you can’t help but feel almost frustrated that the chef didn’t give you a chance to return his affection.

You’re left waiting impatiently as he sets the timer, the miniature pies now the last thing on your mind. Sanji doesn’t seem to understand—you’re craving something sweet, and as far as you’re concerned, the sweetest thing on this ship is him.

a/n: thank you for reading〜♡

#vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #opla sanji #opla sanji x reader #opla x reader #sanji x you #opla sanji x you #opla x you #opla #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece live action

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revelboo · 25 days ago

Note

Hey, it's me again, Meepers ( ＾ω＾ )

Not any specific request, but as someone who really enjoys reading your stories, that also has been helping getting me through my bad days when I read them, want to tell you how much I appreciate the stories. So I wanted to share the China cabinet I got at a thrift store to put my transformers collection in! So far, it's crowded, and not all of my collection can fit in the cabinet until I can replace the glass shelves. So I can't pose them as I want until later.

Also, my personal favorite

G1 Bumblebee with G1 Optimus

Look at his little pedes!

I really appreciate your work!^^

Have a nice day/night!

Ps: Do you have Kofi?

Awww, look at them all! I love seeing y’all’s figures. Thank you for reading my nonsense! And I do have a kofi

Broken Hearts Pt 4

Optimus Prime x Reader

• Watching you talking with Sari and the other two humans is oddly soothing. Soft chatter and laughter reminding him of home. Of the academy before everything had gone sideways. Just relaxing with friends. And it makes his spark ache even as he needs this so much amid all the worry of a resurgent Decepticon movement. Needs a moment of normalcy. No one arguing or upset. Somehow the humans mellowing out everyone without doing a thing.

• Glancing back up at Optimus, he’s still watching you, but you feel oddly safe. Like he’s watching over you, not studying you. He’s as alien to you as you must be to him, but he’d saved you without a second thought. Risked himself for you when he didn’t have to. Didn’t gain anything from it. And the other two people seem relaxed here, too. Comfortable among these giants. Know a lot of it is Sari. The kid trusts them, isn’t the least bit scared of them and you’re all picking up on that. Standing as Bulkhead’s human starts plotting to get a more proper, modern kitchen set up with the bribe of fresh baked gourmet cookies to Sari to sway the bots into helping, you head outside for some air.

• Standing and following you, he hopes you’re not leaving already, but understands if you are. You must have a home, a life. For a moment he can’t find you, but then he spots movement near the alley, your head tipped up toward the night sky and you glance at him before turning your eyes skyward again. “When I was a kid, my family lived out in the country. We could see the stars at night. Too many lights here, though,” you whisper.

• “I could take you out away from the city. To see the stars,” he offers, rumbling voice soft. And you smile despite yourself. Why is he so kind to you? What’s he getting out of this, because in your experience people are generally only nice when they want something from you. “If you wanted,” he adds. And he’s looking at you, not the sky as he shifts on his peds. “I don’t even know where Cybertron is up there. Isn’t that odd? I should know.” And there’s a longing in his voice as his lips press into a thin line before he looks away.

• “I’d love to ride out through the country with you sometime,” you say and he smiles. Your little face tipped up toward him and he reaches to touch your arm but stops himself. Doesn’t want to frighten you. To overwhelm you. So small, but so trusting and he knows he doesn’t deserve your trust. That you’d only been targeted because of him. “How did you guys end up here?”

• “We were attacked,” he admits, grimacing. “By a threat we thought was long gone, but I swear to you that I’ll do everything in my power to protect you and this world.” And he sounds so determined and solemn about it that you believe him. That he’ll fight for you and your home even though he barely knows you. “You’re not prisoners here, you can come and go as you please. But please don’t tell anyone about us.” Understanding that they’re in hiding here and he’s handed you the tools to harm him. To sell him out to the government and trusting you not to. ‘I wouldn’t,’ you assure him and he offers you a servo, smiling when you lay your palm on it like you’ve just given him some immense honor.

#transformers x reader #optimus prime x reader #tfa optimus prime

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animeyanderelover · 6 months ago

Note

hii I'd love to know how you think that yan jouno (bsd), L(death note), Gojo and Megumi(jujutsu kaisen) would react to a short darling, have a nice day:D

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, clinginess, paranoia, specific body type of darling

Tags: @maggiequinn59 @shumidehiro @leveyani @izanami78 @lovley-valentine7

Short darling

L Lawliet

🍰L initially wouldn't give it too much thought as he has other things to worry about than your small height. It's probably once he has abducted you and lives with you that he really starts paying more attention to your short height, especially since you struggle with things that he can easily fulfill since he is taller than you. For the first time he starts considering your small figure amusing, all the more whilst watching you desperately attempting to reach something that is too high up for you. If you were to give him the cold shoulder after the abduction he asks Watari to put everything on higher shelves and places on purpose only to push you into begrudgingly asking L for help when you need something but can't reach it. It's especially fascinating since he has never considered himself as someone tall yet with someone as short as his darling he looks in comparison very big. Sometimes he just feels the urge to grabs your hand and compare the size of it with his own, black eyes observing the clear difference fascinated. Other times he just wraps his arms around you and presses you against his chest when he wants to cuddle, almost managing to hide you in his hold.

Jouno Saigiku

♦️Standing at 5'11, Jouno is a rather tall man yet his height has never been something that he has paid specfic attention to nor has it ever mattered to him how tall the people around him are. It doesn't even matter to him that his darling is shorter than the average person, at least not until he either notices that you feel insecure about it or until he notices that the fact that he towers over you intimidates you whenever you do something that displeases him. In that moment it starts mattering to him simply because it is another thing that he can use to frighten you and keep you in line, a fragile spot that he can target whenever he should feel in a sadistic mood, relishing in the way your heart starts beating as he stands before you. Unfortunately he isn't able to perceive with his eyes how you look in comparison to the people and objects around you, something that has only started bothering him as of recently and especially when people like Tetchou bring your small height up. Teruko probably gets along so well with you because both of you are on a small side in comparison to others but for the sake of not letting her be a bad influence for you Jouno ensures that she stays separated from you as often as possible.

Fushiguro Megumi

💙Height isn't an aspect that Megumi has ever found himself paying much attention to, at least until he developed an obsession with you. He may stand at only 5'9 yet even he looks tall in comparison to your short build and whilst he may not say anything it is something the sorcerer starts giving more attention than he ever has before. He notices how you struggle in life a tad bit more due to your small body and subconsciously that only increases his protective tendencies. When you try to reach out for something that is placed on a higher ground he immediately walks over and gets it for you, whenever you are in a crows his blue eyes are glued to your figure even more than normally as he's worried that he may lose you in the crowd of people, especially since you're on the very short side and e's always staying only one step away from you as soon as there are other people around you two as if paranoid that they might assault you. At this rate he's just babying you but if you were to confront him about it Megumi would most likely deny it. He's helping you after all, he's seen how challenging some things are for you simply because you are so small and he just wants to make your life a bit easier.

Gojo Satoru

🩵You could not have wind up with a man who could have annoyed you more for your tiny build. Worst of all is that Gojo is over 6'3 which only worsens the way he babies and gushes over your short height. If there's one thing that Gojo loves it is teasing you, sometimes simply looking around when you talk to him as if pretending that he can't find you until you threaten to kick him, a luxury he allows you to do as you're the only one he allows to touch him. When you're talking to him he bends down or simply squats down, blue eyes sparkling with mischief the moment he notices how you start getting mad. The moment he holds something away from you there is no way that you can reach it anymore though he always tells you that if you give him a kiss he might consider returning whatever he has stolen from you back to you. It is only his luxury to tease you for your height though as everyone else will receive an intense glare from him the moment they start making comments about it and god forbid someone uses their own height in an attempt to intimidate you. Loves holding your smaller hands in his big ones or lifting you up and twirling you around.

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emelinstriker · 5 months ago

Text

{Eternal Servants AU} Ao Lie ♡ Adoration

Art drawn by me + the AU itself is mine.

Took way longer than the previous ones cuz my brain did not wanna stick to tryna finish this until recently fhgndfghnfhgd

[TL;DR] A dragon joins the team.

♡ ~ Fluff ~ ♡

A man in a green robe groggily woke up. He raised his head slightly from his position on the floor to take in his surroundings. He was in between two rows of large wooden shelves. There was text in bold reading "Interdimensional Geographics" on either side.

Was he... in a library? But why? Did he fall asleep while reading a book?

He sat up, groaning a bit as he held the back of his neck in pain, before he glanced at one row of bookshelves in confusion. He did hear talking coming from somewhere past all the bookshelves, but he was unsure whether or not he could trust those voices. He also wasn't sure why his neck was throbbing in pain. Given the way we was lying on the floor, he brushed it off as simply pain from his previous position.

While trying to stand up, he noticed a little note on the floor. All it had written on it was: "Find Master."

Raising an eyebrow at it, the man in green picked it up, turning the piece of paper and verifying that those were the only words written on it. Weird. He couldn't remember writing that down. Actually, now that he thought about it, he couldn't remember much in general. And it all just confused him even more, making him feel a slight bit of panic at his lack of memory.

The man in green had to think about what he did manage to recollect... He had more than one name, but he could only recall being called Ao Lie. He remembered traveling with what he believed were his friends, although he could only specifically remember a monkey's face from that group... Besides that, he could only faintly remember two people talking in a language he did not understand, followed up by a crow's caw. Every other memory seemed to have been pushed aside or blurred.

And assuming he wrote that note to himself... who was this supposed 'Master' to him if he had no recollection of them? Was he their disciple? Either way, since he had no idea on what else to do, he decided to try find this supposed 'Master'. Maybe they knew why he had been knocked out in the library.

Suddenly, Ao Lie had the urge to rush towards the voices he heard earlier. It was like some strong pull when he felt some form of internal panic. He didn't know why. He clearly wasn't in any danger, after all. But it felt like someone else was. Someone important to him. He dropped the note and decided to hesitantly answer to the call, moving around the many bookshelves. However, this sudden feeling of urgency left him as quickly as it came... But why?

Upon turning at another bookshelf, he stopped.

While he did take notice of the tall lion and the man on wheels, his eyes were mostly focused on the person who had their back turned to him, with a tiny black silhouette of a blob on their shoulder.

Mink already took notice of Ao Lie in return, letting out a groan. "You can't be fucking serious."

You hummed in confusion at the curse's comment. "What's wrong, Mink?"

Then your two other champions took note of this green stranger. Nezha was quick to take on a more defensive position behind you, his fire-tipped spear at the ready. Azure on the other hand simply looked intrigued by this guy across from them. Because the first thing he noticed were his void-black eyes. The exact same ones all of your champions had...

After realizing they were all looking behind you, you turned around to see the man with the long, white hair. You didn't recognize him at all since you've never seen him in the palace before. But he did seem to recognize you. Or, well, at least your title.

He moved a bit closer to you and the others as Nezha kept his guard up. Just in case this was another Celestial Hunter pulling some illusion trick again. Once the white-haired man reached Nezha, who was pointing his fire-tipped spear at the newcomer's chest, he looked over to you, past your pink champion... and he kneeled.

"You... You must be my Master", Ao Lie stated more to himself than you, his voice sounding like he was in awe at your presence. He then lowered his head a bit in respect, which made some of his hair move from his back to his front.

Blinking in surprise, you awkwardly scratched your head. Nezha hummed, seemingly contemplating still poking Ao Lie with a bit of fire. After all, he couldn't be too sure about him being another Celestial Hunter or not. But before he could hold his spear closer to the white-haired man, you stopped him by gently tugging on his cape.

"He seems to be real. I don't think you need to check", you commented as you raised an eyebrow at him, knowing full well of his and MK's stabbing tendencies. Your pink champion reluctantly lowered his weapon and gave you a little bow, muttering out a "Yes, Master" behind his mask.

You then turned back towards your apparently new champion, who was still kneeling. "Uh... You may rise- Uh- Wait- What's your name? And how did you get here?" At your questions, the white-haired man happily stood up as he gestured with his hands... or rather sleeves, because both of his arms were fully covered by his green robe's long sleeves.

"My name is Ao Lie! And I, uh, honestly have no idea. I just... kind of woke up on the floor here a couple of minutes ago, hehe", he confessed awkwardly. You knew almost all of your champions also didn't know how they ended up in the palace, but this was the first time you encountered one just after his arrival yourself.

Azure finally decided to speak up as he examines the newcomer. "Ao Lie, if I may ask. Do you remember anything from before waking up?"

The man in green opened his mouth happily to answer him, but then he realized... Why could he barely remember anything?

You couldn't help but watch in sadness as his smile turned into a frown as he spoke. "I... Well, I remember that I'm from a family of dragons... I turned into a horse, though I can't remember why... Oh! And I was carrying a guy around as a horse while being accompanied by... I think friends?" His eyebrows furrowed as he tried his hardest to remember his past. But much like the others, he only seemed to recall specific aspects of it.

And knowing how pointless it was for them to force out out some kind of memory, Azure sighed in disappointment. "That's enough, thank you. No need to try to force your way into any potential memories, it'll just give you a headache."

Nezha grinned beneath his mask as he leaned against his spear, holding back a chuckle. "Yeah, we've tried. Especially MK. I feel like that just made his memory even worse than it already was. He only keeps doing it because he keeps forgetting that he already tried forcing his memories back."

You gave him a confused and baffled look, to which the celestial simply shrugged in response. MK having the worst memory of them all wasn't new to you, but you didn't know about his attempts to force his memories back. Though in order to ease your worries by just a bit, Nezha added, "He's fine. It's just more of an endless cycle of that short-term memory he has to deal with. And him trying to forcefully remember things just adds to all his confusion." Your pink champion then waved his hand dismissively. It wasn't a big deal to MK after all, just a confusing point about his own lack of memory.

You grimaced a bit at him, not exactly trusting his sudden dismissal of the topic. However, you also didn't want to pry further, knowing about how well your champions could dance around concerning things happening in the palace. They did avoid talking in-depth about their brandmarks, and they did seem to hide many other secrets you were curious about. Such as blood stains on them when they hadn't been on any battle missions.

"Um.. Anyway. Ao Lie was it, right? I... Uh... I'm... assuming you're one of my champions..?" You said, hesitantly trailing off towards the end as you weren't sure how you would be able to confirm such a statement. Because void-black eyes weren't exactly an accurate way of confirmation. It merely meant they were infected.

Ao Lie tilted his head a bit in confusion. "Champion? Does that mean I have to fight in an arena?"

"I mean we don't have an arena, but-" "No, no, no- No fighting in an arena-" You quickly cut Nezha off before he could suggest anything brutal.

Mink, still boredly sitting on your shoulder as a tiny blob, decided that it'd be a good idea to torment-check the green newcomer. Just to take a jab at him and see how much he can take before breaking. Because judging by his current looks, he really did not look like he could be of any use to Mink. He snickered as he grinned at Ao Lie. "So, you're a dragon, right? How about a test of wits and strength? You know... Just to prove to our dear Master that you're actually worthy of even calling them your Master." You gave Mink a little bit of a baffled look, not knowing what he was planning. But he did weaponize your title a lot, even when you clearly disapproved.

The man in green perked up at your black champion's words. He seemed oddly excited about the idea of doing something to show off what he can do. "What do I have to do?"

However, before Mink could say anything that would end up in some catastrophe, you quickly used a finger to bonk his small ken-doll-looking form on the head. It didn't hurt him, but it did catch him off-guard. "Ah- What the- Hey-"

You glared at him, unamused. "Could you maybe like, not trick the others into doing evil or concerning deeds for like five minutes?"

The small ink demon huffed as he shoved your finger away from him. "Oh please. Your definitions of evil and concerning are so simple-mindedly black and white, it's pathetic. I would've actually suggested that he duels me in the scroll. Take it as more of a test of his strength."

It was indeed true that a duel in the scroll was more of a psychological test. If Ao Lie managed to beat the ink demon, he would most certainly be accepted by your other champions as one of their own. But perhaps it was too soon to- "Alright, I'm down! Let's do it! That sounds like fun!"

You grimaced at the dragon's eagerness to duel the ink demon curse. Azure seemed more surprised that the man in green would happily jump into battle without any knowledge or questions regarding Mink's powers. Meanwhile Nezha was rather amused at the offer. After all, if he could get a front row seat of seeing someone else having a shot at eliminating the inky pest, that'd be great.

"Okay, how about we don't have you beat up the new guy? He literally just got here", you quickly intervened as you stepped closer to the white-haired man. It was odd to you how the others had a little bit of white in their hair, except for this one. He seemed to have fully white hair. So perhaps it wasn't actually a signifier that labeled one your champion?

"Anyway, Ao Lie was it? If you don't have your memories right now, you could stay with us and we can try figure things out with the others", you offered as you held out your hand to shake his hand. The white-haired man gave you a puzzled look for a moment before reaching out with a smile, shaking your hand rather strongly. Though, his hand felt rather sharp...

"That's so nice of you! Thank you, Master!" He had barely just met you and it already seemed like calling you 'Master' came naturally to him. Which was surprising, considering that Nezha told you it took him and Azure at least a little while to get used to addressing their personally first Master as such. The others also seemed rather hesitant at first. Though, he couldn't talk for the two simians as they were the first ones to pledge their allegiance and servitude. And Mink just plainly refused to call you his Master, unless it was to sway the others.

Just to make sure the newcomer was actually unharmed upon arrival, you decided to have him visit the medical bay first. You didn't have the tools or knowledge to do a full check-up, but you asked him for permission to check if he had any of those black wounds the others had. And he did. Right on the back of his neck. He then realized that must've been why his neck had been hurting a bit since he woke up. He just thought he must've been unconscious at an uncomfortable angle for too long.

While Azure went looking for the others to tell them about the new champion, Nezha decided to stick around in case the newcomer tried anything. He knew you were safe with Mink, but he couldn't take any risks. Not when he didn't know the full capabilities of the man in green.

And as you were assessing Ao Lie's neck situation, the pink champion's sight landed on the table next to him. Something caught his attention. It was one of those zip-up bags with a familiar black substance inside. Apparently it hadn't been picked up by an Overseer yet. The Oracle must've been busy.

His gaze then turned back and locked onto the green champion, watching you hand him new clothes to try out later.

"Tell me or a servant if you need a different size or want something different in general, alright?" The celestial heard you tell the dragon, to which the man nodded happily.

However, something else that caught Nezha's attention were Ao Lie's hands. He only noticed the way they were somewhat sharp claws and practically fully black when he held onto the neatly folded clothes... His hands looked suspiciously similar to a certain crow's hands... The pink champion furrowed his eyebrows. He wasn't the only one who noticed as Mink crossed his arms, eyeing the white-haired man suspiciously.

You then turned towards Nezha, "Could you show him around, please? We would still need to figure out where he's gonna sleep, so just show him where everything necessary is." While it was technically a command, you couldn't help but make it sound like a gentle request. The celestial bowed his head before leading Ao Lie away, keeping an eye on him at all times.

Sighing, you rubbed your temple. So much was happening at the same time again. You also had to make sure the others were okay since there still were some Celestial Hunters they were disposing of.

"Hmpf. Are you done collecting immortals like trading cards now?" You heard Mink ask in annoyance as he still sat on your shoulder. Rolling your eyes at him, you gently bonked him with your finger again, making him whine once more.

"I don't even know how they end up like this in the first place, Mink. For all we know, the servants could have been going through a trial before ending up here-" "They didn't. None of us did", Mink said with a slight hint of annoyance, cutting you off. You raised an eyebrow at him in response.

The ink demon looked you dead in the eye. "Be happy they don't remember the infection process. Or you would have a bunch of immortals traumatized at the feeling of their body having been altered to a point of no return." He crossed his arms before adding, "And be happy I can't feel pain. Or I wouldn't be on 'friendly terms' with either one of you."

"What are you talking about?"

He was about to add to his rant, but then stopped himself. "...Ugh, nevermind." You already knew he was hiding a lot from you, but his responses just gave you more questions than answers. However, you knew better than to try get more out of him, considering he would just end up toying with you, dangling the answers in front of you, yet still too far out of your reach.

But for now you had to deal with your new champion.

Perhaps asking Mink another time would be more appropriate.

[ Masterlist ]

#eternal servants au #lmk x reader #ao lie x reader #art #lmk fanart #esau x reader #esau ao lie #esau nezha #esau azure #esau mink #lmk au #lego monkie kid #ao lie fanart #lmk ao lie #bai longma #monkie kid au #lego monkie kid au #fluff

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talesofesther · 1 year ago

Text

what once was mine | ch 5

Loki x Reader

Series Summary: When watching what once was supposed to be the rest of his life, in an empty room in the TVA, Loki sees someone he can't recognize; a girl who's all tenderness and loose smiles, and most importantly, she was smiling at him.

A/N: Writing a lovesick Loki is my new favorite hobby.

Masterlist | Read ch 4 here

There was something about you. Still, he couldn't quite place what it was. But there was something. He's not sure if it's the way your eyes crinkle on the sides and you avoid your gaze when you smile or if it's the frown on your lips and the raised eyebrow look you usually give to him when he shows up at your desk.

Loki didn't know what it was about you, that got him in an absolute trance, and he felt the gravity around you pulling him in.

A sharp pain in the back of his head snapped him back to reality, a small grunt escaping his lips.

"I swear I'm regretting all my decisions right now," Mobius spoke from beside him, unrolling his jet ski magazine he had just smacked Loki with, "If I have to repeat everything I've just said just because you were too busy drooling over-"

"I was listening." Loki cut him off a little too urgently, finally moving his gaze away from where you had been talking with B-15 a few steps ahead of him. "And I wasn't drooling," he grumbled.

"Yeah, right," Mobius mumbled, leaning back on his chair as he followed Loki's gaze that had, unsurprisingly, returned to you. "Did you two get to talking already?"

Loki sighed, he watched as you propped yourself up on someone's desk, fiddling with the loose tie around your neck as you spoke with the hunter. "Not exactly," he frowned, "She still avoids me most of the time. She's difficult."

Mobius hummed in agreement, now mindlessly flipping through his magazine. "You're telling me."

Tapping against the arm of his chair, Loki craned his neck to look behind him where Mobius was sitting. "Are you two close?" He asked with genuine curiosity, "You seem close."

"She's a pain in my ass," Mobius threw the magazine aside and picked up a stack of documents, neatly placing them inside a folder. He briefly glanced at you, who now sat alone, swinging your feet back and forth as you watched people walk by, a small fond smile appeared on his features. "But she grows on you pretty fast," he spoke quieter, "I gotta give her that."

The ghost of a smile crept into Loki's lips too. He jumped slightly when the folder was unceremoniously dropped onto his lap.

"Now make yourself useful and take that to the library," Mobius raised an eyebrow at him, "Some of us actually have work to do."

─── ·❆· ───

Loki praised himself for being able to reach the library without getting lost. He read the date stamped on top of the file on his hands and browsed the shelves until he found said date, neatly stacking the file in between the others already there.

As he was about to walk out, he caught sight of the joyless woman who sat behind the desk in the corner; the permanent scowl still adorned her face as she typed away at her computer.

Loki took the sharp turn and came to stand before her. He waited a beat before pressing the bell atop her desk once.

The typing halted but only her eyes moved to look at him. "Yes?"

"I'm on the lookout for a few files, if you wouldn't mind assisting me." The smile on his lips was rather mischievous.

After about a minute of following the woman around the library, Loki was pleasantly surprised to be handed the file he had actually asked for.

"Happy reading," the woman mumbled, and left him be.

In between the cramped shelves, Loki turned the file in his hands, tracing his fingers under the name written on the first page. Your name.

He wondered for a moment if it would be inappropriate, an invasion of your privacy. Prying into your life as if it were a book for him to read. He tried to justify with the thought he'd only be reading the parts with him in it.

As he slowly made his way out of the halls of shelves, Loki took a brief look at the basic pieces of information on the cover of your file. Your picture at the front was… endearing—much as he wouldn't admit it out loud—you had your arms behind your back, your lips pulled into a line, and your eyes quite wide with apprehension, wearing the same TVA uniform that Loki got thrown into when he arrived. You were human and from Midgard, which already got Loki mildly confused as to why his future self would've gotten this close with a Midgardian of all people.

Loki rounded the corner of the last shelf with his eyes fixated on the file, and he nearly dropped it when something suddenly collided against him full force. Or rather, someone.

A small oof escaped your lips when you bumped face-first into him. You took a few steps back, blinking several times with a frown on your eyebrows.

Biting back a gasp of surprise, Loki quickly hid your file behind his back, mustering his most convincing innocent look.

Your eyes finally found him and you sighed quietly. "It's you."

A small, teasing grin stretched Loki's lips and he narrowed his eyes at you, "are you following me?"

You raised an unamused eyebrow at him, adjusting the lapel of your jacket and straightening your posture; "why would I follow you?"

"Because I'm terribly alluring." His voice took a slightly lower timbre, he leaned just a tad closer to you.

All you gave him was a roll of your eyes before circling past him so you could continue on your way. Loki turned with you, keeping his hands behind his back and away from your line of sight.

Much to your dismay, he fell into step with you.

"And now you're following me?" You asked, feigning uninterest as you made a point of avoiding his gaze, heading towards the elevator.

Loki hummed; "Not at all." He stayed just half a step behind you, trailing his eyes over the way your hair fell over your shoulder, just barely revealing the black earring you wore and making him wonder if it would feel as soft as it looked if he were to run his fingers through it. "We just happen to be going to the same place."

As you waited for the elevator to arrive, Loki managed to fold your file once and stash it inside the pocket of his jacket. You went in and Loki followed. The silence that lingered as the elevator slowly made its way up made Loki feel uneasy, he shifted in his stance and stole not-so-sneaky glances at you every few seconds. Has this elevator always been so slow?

"Would you like to stop for tea?" The words stumbled past Loki's lips on their own. "Or, coffee, whatever it is you drink." He felt the need to add, to feign nonchalance.

You kept quiet, but quiet was good, it wasn't a no. Loki realized, as he pretended not to be watching you, that what kept pulling him towards you wasn't curiosity anymore; at least not only curiosity. You were going to be his in the future, that much was clear, why or how he couldn't know, but his would-be future self had been lucky enough to be loved by you. And that was it, he realized. Loki never had anything to call his in his life, he never truly belonged. And when he first saw you on that screen, he just knew it had been his choice; he would have been lucky enough to find you and choose to call you his, to be yours.

Loki's breath hitched in his throat. That feeling in his chest, his heart knew where it belonged, who it belonged to; even before he did. And you were right there and Loki couldn't push away the thought that… he was yours, even if you weren't his. Not yet, and maybe not ever again.

You kept quiet. The elevator was nearing its stop when you hit the button that led to the cafeteria floor.

The place was emptier this time of day, almost peacefully so. There were only a few people here and there, sitting at the tables while enjoying a quick meal during their break.

You spared Loki a glance, "Go find us a table, yeah?"

Loki didn't object as you walked off to grab a drink. He picked a table in a far corner, away from any unwanted disturbances, and waited. This wasn't about drinking tea, not really; he didn't mind not having a drink.

You came back a few minutes later, holding two mugs; each steaming hot and with a bag of tea floating inside. You sat down in front of him and slid one of the mugs towards him.

Loki fought to keep his face impassive, to not make you uncomfortable by displaying how the gesture had touched him. He took the mug slowly, warm ceramic heating up his cold hands. When he took the first sip, his eyes briefly closed in delight, surprised that you knew exactly how he took his tea. But he shouldn't be.

When he opened his eyes again, he noticed your gaze was, for the first time today, fixed on him. Your lips were slightly parted and your hands hung loosely around your mug on the table. It was almost as if you were gauging his reaction, hanging onto every twitch of his muscles. To prove a fact or dismantle a lie.

"It's… lovely, thank you," Loki spoke softly.

You gulped at his words, then cleared your throat and took a generous sip of your own tea, that most likely burned its way down your throat given the way your eyes watered. "Yeah, sure."

Loki softly tapped his mug as it rested on the table, he glanced up at you, his eyes betraying him with the softness he tried to hide. "You know, I'm truly quite impressed."

He captured your attention, and you turned to him with slightly raised eyebrows.

"I wasn't expecting them to have such good tea around," Loki raised his mug to prove his point, "for a place that, literally, has access to all of time, their food options are rather limited." He complained with an indignant frown.

There was a smirk fighting its way into your lips that you gently ducked your head to hide. "I have to agree, sometimes I just wanna slip into the timeline to grab a milkshake or a smoothie."

Loki struggled to keep his voice working when he saw the hints of a smile on your face, but that's also the reason why he kept talking. "Right? And then there's the neverending paperwork. I mean, honestly, for a place like this they sure are so old-timey, aren't they?"

You laughed. Genuinely laughed, and Loki delighted in it. He wanted to bottle up the sound and keep it with him forever. His lips hovered in a dazed smile of his own, and he simply looked at you—all doe eyes and pink cheeks—engraving the image in his mind with the pride that he was the one who made you happy, if even for a second.

Shaking your head, you avoided his eyes. Biting your lower lip before you said; "Oh yes, that's one of my biggest critiques yet."

A quiet chuckle escaped Loki's lips, and he made it his mission to keep the conversation going for as long as you'd have him.

When you drank the last sip of your tea, which was most likely already cold given the time that had passed since you first got it, you looked at Loki with the ghosts of that smile still lingering—a little crooked and still a little hesitant, but beautiful to his eyes nonetheless.

"I have to go," you said, voice quieter, as if you spoke louder it would break the moment. Your eyes glimmered under the artificial lights, for a beat it looked like you wanted to say more but you bit it back. "But thank you for the company."

Loki nodded softly, "It was my pleasure." He hoped you could see it in his eyes that he meant it.

Loki watched you leave. He watched as you walked into the elevator and held his gaze from afar until the doors closed. The feeling hit him hard and square in the chest, making him close his eyes and exhale a shaky breath—he was falling for you, and it killed him to think that he might be falling alone.

He took the file still hidden in his jacket pocket, unfolding it only to see the picture of you staring back at him. He looked at it for a long time, yet never opened it. He wanted to do right by you. If he were to know you, know the story you would've had together, it would be because you choose to let him.

Later that day, Loki stopped by the library again. He took a single last glance at the cover of your file before stashing it back on the shelf.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Read ch 6 here

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Loki’s taglist: @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @justaproudslytherpuff @justanotherkpopstanlol @chronicallybubbly @chaoticqueen33 @7minutes-tomidnight @uncle-eggy @oliviaewl @dd122004dd @tani725 @lokihaha34 @levanneisdumb @innebulae @mochminnie @mayemperess @alyeskathewave @buginktsworld @cremebruleequeen @wyvernthekriger @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson @avengersfan25 @mischief2sarawr @yokolesbianism @arunabrak @athenasproverbs @h-l-vlovesvintage @princess-ofthe-pages @daisy-the-quake @talesofadragon @rainbowsocks @alexandra-001 @mary-jinx @stevenknightmarc @falconxsoldier @ladymercury8 @shirukitsune @ladymischief11 @starkzdaughter @navs-bhat @creat0r-cat @cinnamonbambii

@anundyingfidelity @creationcitystreet-em @or-was-it-just-a-dream @agustdpeach @oreo-cream @jollydeckk @agent-tempest @spidermantaylorsversion @127djarin @imthedoctorlove @duckwithsunglasses @lokidokieokie @cookieeecutter @anuncalledbridge @finechalamet

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki imagine #loki #marvel #loki series #loki x you #marvel x reader #loki x female reader #imagine #fanfic #angst #fluff #what once was mine #loki fanfic #my story #loki laufeyson x reader

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mistystepmoonbeam · 10 months ago

Text

Reborn into BG3: Chapter 12

You're reborn into BG3 with only the memory of your past life. Now you're Tav's companion on his journey, and must learn about yourself as much as your new reality.

Chapter 12: You take a walk through the cellar in the blighted village. When the others catch up you say something that freaks out Astarion.

Word count: 2.6K

A/N: I was undecided if I wanted to post this >.> But what the hells.

You’re on your own, now. Just for a bit, thanks to Wyll convincing Tav you don’t need to be watched at all times. And with no more goblins between you and camp you’re able to be left alone to sort out…yourself, you guess.

You didn’t throw up again after leaving Ethel’s, but you may have done some crying as you walked in circles around the forest by the village. If it wasn’t for having to face the others you’d have run back to camp, pulled scratch into your tent and bawled your eyes out.

Though you promised to go back to camp you find yourself in the blighted village. You can't read the sign at the entrance but you know it says Moonhaven, and you try to memorise what you think the letters might be.

A little stop can’t hurt, you think. Anything to avoid a conversation about what happened. And you can collect the herbs that are in the cellar, along with anything else that might be useful. You take a small swig of the health potion to get the taste of bile out of your mouth and then stash it into your bag, since it’s now nearly empty after leaving your personal hoard at camp, and head down into the cellar. Whatever objects had been clinking in there remain a mystery–you still haven’t looked inside and won’t even as you add more to the pack.

As much as you had wanted to abandon your staff you took it with you. Necromancy or not, it could bludgeon someone should the need arise. And apparently it can cast light in a small radius around you because it does just that when you make it to the bottom of the ladder.

With a slight purple tint, the staff lets out an eerie glow giving you just enough light to see by. There’s a small buzz of energy through your body that you assume is the Weave. Not wanting to question things anymore, you get to work prying open the barrels and crates and find the herbs you’re there for. You circle around and pick up a couple health potions, a couple mystery potions to be identified later, and find the hidden lever. You hesitate before pushing it down, but curiosity gets the better of you in the end. You watch the shelves move and step into the secret cave.

Now that you’re aware of the phantom limb and what it has been reaching for, you can feel the dead weigh on your mind. You know where they are, kind of in the same way you could navigate your room in the dark. They’re permanent objects stuck in place, and should you so desire, you can reach out and move them.

“I guess I’m a necromancer,” you mutter as you pluck a bone cap out of the ground. “Awesome. Couldn’t be a wizard or a sorcerer or…wait, am I one of those?”

Wyll seemed to make it sound like a necromancer was separate, but it kind of was a subcategory of wizard.

You straighten and keep moving, turning the corner and finding the cavern. You ignore everything there and head for the mirror that waits beyond the wooden planks.

When you step up to it the staff's eyes glow violet again, and the mirror slides open. You sigh. “Necromancer it is, then.”

But…maybe there’s a clue to your identity in this place if you’re powerful or rich enough? You move inside and find the lab on the right, the paperwork scattered about, and logbooks. Or you assume they’re the logbooks—you can’t read, after all. Instead of flipping through them you head to the exit and find the rusty key on the shelves. Soon enough you’re standing before the first trap that lights the braziers, and risk the step. The room is filled with light as the fires blaze to life.

The Necromancy of Thay is just beyond the barred door, and this time you can hear it. It whispers to you, quiet little voices that speak in a language you don’t know. They’re distant, but like with the bodies of the dead you know where the book is.

It takes some strength to push the rusty key into the padlock on the door, and with some force you manage to turn it. The whispers quiet.

“A well hidden laboratory, wonder what it’s doing down here?”

You turn to find Tav, Wyll and Astarion walking into the lab. He still has both eyes, at least. After he outed Astarion you thought he might take the hag’s deal.

“How did you find this place?” you ask.

He only offers you a shrug, eyes darting around the lab in search of loot.

You relent, “I found the hatch and started looking around.”

Tav smiles and rests his hands on the back of his head. Maybe he’s just happy you aren’t ignoring him again, or running away. By the way his tail flicks at the air you think that might be it, and the reason he’s being quieter than usual.

“I followed your tracks,” Wyll reveals. Well, he did hunt down all sorts of beings as the Blade of Frontiers. “What have you found?”

“Creepy book,” you reply. They approach you, surveying the book and everything else in the small cage.

“Trapped, most likely,” Astarion says. He steps forward carefully and does something to the stand the book is on. It’s so quick you don’t have time to peer around him and get a good look at what “disarm trap” really looks like.

Astarion picks up the book, turning it in his hands. They begin to discuss what it could be when you remember the bracers that are down here. You slip away without a thought and find the nearby gilded chest, poking it before opening it. There are traps here, who knows what else could be rigged to explode?

When you open the chest you feel a wave of magic—Weave—come from it. It’s different from the warmth of the healing magic, somehow sharper, more demanding. You pull the bracers out and put them in your bag, nearly overflowing with loot now.

You turn to rejoin the group only to nearly run into Astarion on the level below you. You stumble back and catch yourself. “I think Shadowheart was right about putting a bell on you.”

He gives you a smirk, genuine, your surprise. A thought occurs but rather than ask it you bite the inside of your right cheek.

“You are just full of surprises, aren’t you?” Astarion asks. You don’t know what he’s referring to, considering the amount of surprises you’ve had lately. He goes on, waving one hand in the air. “Filthy rich, can’t read, enchanted clothing, and now, a necromancer.”

“To be fair, I don’t know anything about all of that.” You try not to sigh too hard thinking of what Auntie Ethel had said.

“I wonder what other secrets that little head holds…” he muses. It’s more to himself than you. “And you killed on my behalf, I’m flattered.”

“I didn’t mean to, though.”

“I know, that’s what makes it all the more entertaining. You, the picture of innocence, murdered a man for a vampire spawn. Ha!”

You furrow your brow, unsure how you could be considered the picture of innocence. But maybe that was only compared to those Astarion knew. It was your first murder…and only murder! Not first. Just the one, and only, murder.

Yes, you are rather innocent in the terms of this world.

Astarion pinches your cheek between two fingers, bringing you back to the conversation. “Don’t think this makes us even.”

“Okay,” you say when he lets go. You rub at where he’d pinched, shocked he touched you so casually. And not just that…his fingers are warm. “Uhm…”

Astarion quirks a brow. “Yes?”

“Can I ask you a question? About being a vampire.”

He leans his weight into one foot, crossing his arms as he eyes you warily. “I suppose.”

“Why are you warm? Shouldn’t you be, like, cold? Or room temperature?”

Astarion, for all his acting, is easy to read. His eyes widen as he steps back, arms uncrossing and held out before him like he’s trying to catch his balance. “What did you say?”

“Sorry, is that rude?” You shift on your heels. “I just thought vampires would be cold, with the…being dead, and all.”

“We are,” Astarion confirms, voice grim.

“But your skin is warm.”

“I assure you, it is not.”

“I literally just had your hand on my cheek. You’re warm.”

“I think I know what temperature my own body is!” Astarion huffs and walks away. You notice the bag that rests on his back has the weight of the book within.

You move down the steps as he paces, annoyed.

“What’s wrong, Astarion?” Tav asks.

You answer, “I asked him why—”

But you don’t get to finish it because Astarion wraps one hand over your mouth and the other on the back of your head, successfully silencing you. He says, “Nothing! Nothing at all. Just discussing what reward I might offer for valiantly saving me from a monster hunter.”

You roll your eyes. But having his skin on yours again confirms his heat. He feels like a living, breathing human. Why did that freak him out? When he releases you he gives you a hard stare that’s easy to understand. Shut. Up.

Wyll and Tav watch you, waiting to see what you say but you just shrug. “It’s not that important.”

Wyll frowns, but lets it go. For now. Tav bites into his bottom lip but keeps silent.

Astarion’s words remind you of something you’d like to forget. The Gur. You can’t even recall his name right now. Maybe you should have tried harder to keep Astarion away, or convinced them to not go there at all. But you didn’t, and there was no reset now.

You watch Tav flit about the basement collecting loot. It does little to help your mood, but at the very least you take comfort in the fact that they didn’t call you a monster for what you did. You promise to keep better watch of those chords in your head, the little phantom strings that connect to the dead around you. Because avoiding the dead is an impossible task, at least as long as you travel with Tav and everyone.

When you return to the surface the others are waiting by the well. You spot your bag of gold on Gale’s shoulder and hurry to take it from him, but he holds up his hands to stop you. “What kind of man would I be if I let an injured person carry so much weight?”

You’re about to argue but think better of it when the world sways a little. You manage to stay still, probably, and thank him instead.

“Oh, right,” you say, pulling the magic bracers from your other pack. “I thought you might want these.”

Gale takes the bracers. It’s then that you notice the bags under his eyes are especially dark—and you realize he hasn’t told anyone about his condition. As far as you know. The little lines that travel up the side of his neck and towards his left eye are darker, too.

Your thumbnail scratches at your staff as you wait for him to say something. Anything. Literally anything would be good right now because it’s been ten whole seconds of him staring at the bracers and that’s long enough of him being silent that the others are now looking.

“Gale?” Tav asks.

It jolts him out of his stupor. “Yes? Oh, yes.” He looks at you. “Thank you. Perhaps there’s something I must admit…”

Gale goes through his first speech about the orb, and then his second. It’s a lot to take in in one go, if you haven’t heard it all before. At the end he says, “I understand if you want to part ways—this orb, for lack of a better word, is immensely dangerous.”

Tav asks, “Why?”

All eyes turn to him, his head tilted with a smile on his face.

“Because I could explode,” Gale says slowly.

“So?” Tav points to each companion as he adds, “Shar worshipper, warlock turned devil, angry githyanki, infernal engine that could explode, vampire, necromancer with memory loss, and I’m sorry Halsin we’ve barely just met, but…uh, old?”

There are worse things to be said, about all of you.

“Plus we’ve all got worms in our heads,” Karlach says. “Oh, well except for…”

Gale lets out a small laugh. “Thank you. All of you. Now, even I’m getting tired of my own voice so shall we get going?”

The group begins their journey back to the goblin camp.

“I am not angry,” Lae’zel says, her voice almost a hiss. “At least not at any of you. The mindflayers, however…”

Halsin walks next to her, asking questions about the tadpoles and their magic, while Astarion and Wyll follow, then Shadowheart, Karlach, and Tav. You and Gale are last to leave the village.

“You knew, didn’t you?” Gale asks.

You hesitate too long before answering. “No.”

“You are a terrible liar.” He keeps his voice low as you walk, putting the bracers on his wrists. “But I consider that a good thing.”

You chew the inside of your cheek, unsure of what to say. They seem to consider your knowledge to be some kind of deadly premonition, so maybe you should lean into that. “I can’t really explain it.”

Gale smiles but it’s weak.

“We’ll find lots of stuff for you to eat,” you assure him. “Or absorb, I mean. Like those!”

You point at the bracers. He holds them closer to where you know the orb is tattooed on his chest, breathing deeply.

“And if we can’t find anything there’s always my boots, or coat.”

“You would offer me those?” Gale looks you up and down like he had when you’d first met.

You shrug. “Of course. Oh, do you need them now? Because I just need to sit down to get them—”

You lift a foot as you walk, nearly stumbling to the ground when Gale stops you. “No, no, I’m fine for now. I am just—very grateful to have such a generous companion.”

“It’s not really generosity if it’s something you need though,” you argue.

Gale smiles gently but moves on. “So what’s this I hear about you being a necromancer?”

Whatever emotion crosses your face makes him pull back and try to change the subject. Regret, maybe, or pain. You can’t focus on controlling your features with so much going on. “I don’t want to be…that. I can feel…I can feel where they are—like something is dragging behind me. It’s heavy, but easy. I don’t want it to be easy.”

“Just because something comes easily to you doesn’t mean you need to do it.”

You look up at him, unaware your gaze has been on the ground this whole time. “But I did it by accident. I can’t—I can’t exactly control it.”

“That’s no problem to learn,” Gale says, as if moving the dead was no harder than riding a bike. “Learn to control it, and don’t use it. Though if you can move a boar in your sleep you must have some considerably…powerful benefactors in Baldur’s Gate to deal with.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t mean to frighten you,” he says, “but if you can use magic without the intent, without the movements or incantations, then you hold a great power. And that is something that doesn’t go unnoticed by the wealthy elite.”

Chosen. Like Gale had once been of Mystra you too could be the preferred mortal of a god.

“Meaning there may be some unhappy people if I don’t use magic.”

“It’s only one possibility of many,” Gale assures you. “And until we know more I am happy to help you control your magic. I’m told I’m an excellent teacher.”

You twirl the staff between your fingers and laugh. “It would be an honour to learn from you.”

Taglist:

@half-poison-and-half-hope @sanscas @hotmesshobbit @godoffuckedupcats @thequeen-oni @terrenuserinj @straewberrysoda @theomnipotentfox @becksynthetic @quitecontrary-to-mary @furblrwurblr @mega-trash-cringe @fandomsbookclub @dontneedbiologytoadopt @pebble-bb @v3lv3tvampir3 @mrow-kat @jeneralmischief @notsaelty @runaway-17 @aoirohi @tinswhimsy @xxgrimripp3rxx @kemonocat-blog @thetiredtoad0-0 @sleepydang @iwannabealocalcryptid @troutberryspoon @betwixttheweave @the-pale-elfs-love

#reborn into baldur's gate 3 with no memory and plenty of money #reborn into bg3 #astarion x reader #tav x reader ???#I keep forgetting about the staff to be honest #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction

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thezombieprostitute · 4 months ago

Note

Sending you good vibes. ✨

And this man.

You know, I've never written for this giant of a man.

A/N: I do not speak German. I'm pulling a few things from this post and The Little Book of Foreign Swear Words by Sid Finch.

A/N2: Tall reader. Also, for context, König is almost 7' tall.

Warnings: Bad German. Please let me know if I missed any.

Working customer service was a sure way to get you to dream of running away to the middle of nowhere and never interacting with people again. And it's not just the customers, either. If you have to hear your manager bitch about "kids these days" one more time you're gonna start throwing things.

You swear your manager, Lance, gets a kick out of making you, the tallest employee, restock the lowest shelves. For a guy who seemed so confident in himself he sure felt the need to put others down for his own ego. He even chuckles to himself as he walks by and you're bent down for those bottom shelves.

With your knees not able to take much more, you let yourself stand up for a breather. You're startled by a "Scheisse!" On the other side of the cart you were unloading is a veritable giant of a man with grey blue eyes. He looked just as surprised to see you as you were him.

"Tut mir leid," he says. "I...I didn't see you."

"I um...I was pretty well hidden," you stutter. You're so caught off guard by the handsome man you have to look up to that it takes you a few seconds to regain your professionalism. "Um, is there anything I can help you with?"

"Oh, nein," he shakes his head. "Just trying to find some beer. Good stuff that doesn't uh...schmeckt nicht nach Pisse."

"Well, let me go ahead and get this cart out of your way then so you can see all of the options."

"Danke." He almost sounds relieved that you took the initiative and he didn't have to ask. Considering he immediately goes for the beer that your cart was blocking you get the feeling he was looking at it for some time. You wouldn't be surprised if he tended to feel awkward, socially at least. You know what it's like to be too tall for your own good.

Of course that's the moment Lance decides to check up on your progress. He's already upset at seeing you standing at full height, but with the giant standing next to you, he apparently feels the need to metaphorically swing his dick around.

"What the hell, Giganto? You get too tired of being on your knees? That cart needs to be emptied. You're way behind!"

"Mr. Tucker, there's a customer," you warn.

"What is he your cousin or something? Probably can't find anyone big enough to put you in your place unless you're related to them, damn inbred---"

He's cut off by the giant customer grabbing his neck.

"Dein Schwanz ist so klein, dass es 'ne Maus nicht merkt, wenn du sie fickst."

As much as you don't want to stop him, the customer is assaulting someone. "Sir, I really appreciate your help, but I don't want to have to call the police."

He lets go of Lance, "you are right, Häsechen. He is not worth the police visit." He reaches into his pocket and writes something on a piece of paper before handing it to you. "Should you seek...different employment, give a call. KorTac is hiring and someone as...patient, smart as you could do well."

You smile as you take the paper from him. Given the glares Lance is giving you, you'll likely need to call by the end of the day. You hope you'll get to see him again. Looking at the paper he gave you it has the number followed by "KorTac. König"

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @ronearoundblindly

#zombie asks #könig x reader #könig x tall!reader #könig x you #könig imagine #konig x reader #konig x tall!reader #konig x you #konig imagine

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dark-l-angel · 9 months ago

Note

if you want requests, I am so delulu, I'm stuck in my own world 24/7 and my brain refuses to stop.....

Jason, who growing up had a crush on reader, but being the clueless person we are we have no clue (I swear it's a curse, I genuinely don't know that someone is into me until they say it. No flirting computes with me) but then the whole- ya know, not living thing happens.... The thing that leads up to Red Hood (I refuse to say it) and reader is later confronted by either Dick or Alfred at the funeral and they're like

“You know he like you, right?” and readers response is

“Not as much as I loved him”

which I guess causes a whole sad thing that I can't cope with, so you decide what happens from there, but basically the ending is when Jason is not the scary evil Red Hood anymore but more the Jason people fantasize about, he tells reader how he feels and IDK man something cute and fluffy, my brain is just sad all the time so all I have is the sad stuff.

Anyways, this is a lot longer than I thought it would be, but here it is, please ignore it if it's weird or too much 😅

have a nice day, peace out ✌️

Princess, believe it or not i had hundreds of scenarios to this situation at fucking 5 a.m when i was ab to pass my bachelor exam *I'm talking math day 💀

And having your own world is nice actually.. ❤ at least you have an escape place from painful reality and ur comfort character is hugging you in your rough times. Hope happiness strikes you like jason's beauty did to me 😃💝 love u deeply 💖

Reunion

Jason todd x fem!reader

"You know that he liked you.. right?" Dick's voice ringed in your ear.. even after all this time.. it's like it happened yesterday..

Thinking while staring at a book jason used to read when you both were younger.. before.. that incident..

You put the book away and picked another, you shared the same love of books with jason, that explains why you become a loyal customer to libraries and coffee shops.

It was always a sad thing to go to libraries, yet it felt like happiness to you.. finally some freedom from this cruel world. You don't have to suffer through reading some simple lines with deep meanings.. in fact, it changed you 360 degrees, your vision to the world has changed since ever jason introduced you to the books.

You were walking around the library while hugging different books, looking carefully through the shelves of another chosen one, Losing all connections with your world, not feeling a specific guy staring at you in admiration.

Your eye fallen on an interesting novel, but it was on the top shelf. You tried to reach it but failed, and you got that idea of reaching it through another book was by your hand. You did, the novel is coming out, but still not enough, you had to put extra efforts by standing on the top of your toes.

"Too bad short angel can't reach her little novel" a tall handsome man was towering you from behind, you looked up and his eyes fell into yours, green emerald eyes inspecting your angelic features in admiration carefully *while you took your time to enjoy his mesmerizing gorgeous beauty like the little whore you and i will do*.

He smirked before looking back to the novel and pulling it out for you, gosh he was handsome, but.. you could swear you know him from somewhere.

He reads the title loud before saying "damn baby girl you've got some pretty good taste out there.. i like it" he smirked "oh thanks, I've always liked that type of stuff especially when *author name* added his pov of the topic.." he laughed.

As you both sat at a coffee shop and continued babbling ab different books to different subjects.. almost everything.. as if you actually know this person years ago, the problem was that you weren't the type to get comfy to people easily.. so what's the matter with this guy?.

Probably his smile that cached your mind? or his emerald eyes and their beauty? his funny jocks? Or it's your shared likings? Or the fact that he was the only person to be able to crack his way through your dead heart and plant a rose of adoration that was meant only for him? The only person to have the ability to warm your heart after all these years? Or him being the reason of your tears of laughter?... sooo much questions going through your head.

You finally managed to ask him.. " i feel like i know you from years, never had fun like this since then.. do i know you by any chance?" You said while wiping away the tears of laughing on his stories.

"You didn't recognize me y/n?" You didn't tell him your name yet.. how would he- "i missed you so much actually... i have been thinking about you in everything i was doing back then, dick might probably told you about it, yet i still do think about you all the time..." you watch the man goes on.. but dick? He spoke about jason only.. and jason is.. gone.. "you forget me y/n?" That can be..

He smiled staring at you in pure love and admiration and adoration.. "It's jason.. the dumb boy who fell dumber in love with you, angel ♡".

Hope you like it ❤ baby gurl was here 😘

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tiredofthehumanlife · 9 months ago

Text

So we’re all trans?

Barbie dolls: t4t!Jegulus x genderfluid!reader

Word: 3.3k ish

Summary: James and Regulus are nervy to tell you they’re trans while you are nervy to tell them you’re genderfluid and hilarity ensues

Warnings: Lightning McQueen, Shrek, Spiderman, and Peter Pettigrew mentioned, James is a kale freak, I talked like a lot most of which was not necessary, mentions: shots (testosterone), getting vaccinations, cheating, domestic homicide, medieval torture, your experience with genderfluidity(it’s going to be a word for today) might not align with mine but i kept it as vague as possible, a bit of a Disney channel moment but just like ignore the cringe baby it's fine it adds character, you place your hands on your hips but it's not like “you place your tiny baby girl hands on your voluptuous hips in girly frustration” yk so it works for whatever gender you're feeling🩷, insecure feelings in gender identity, everybody is worried the other is going to break up with them bc they’re trans so it's like hypothetical transphobia, you wear pants, jamie used once, yeah i think thats it please read the author’s note i want to cover all my bases to make sure this doesn’t have unintended messages right okay cool

A/n: I'm going to use the small text bc I'm going to be yapping a lot so I apologize to all the bad vision freaks(I can't see two inches in front of my face) right so I just wanted to say that both James and Regulus had medically assisted transitions (that feels like a right phrasing) reg had top surgery, James takes puberty blockers, and they both take T I just wanted to say that you do not have to take anything or do anything to be valid in your trans identity some people can’t afford surgeries and some people don't want them and everybody is valid (except for those people who are like “me when the trans guy with triple d’s gets mad I mess up their pronouns” they can suck my 12-foot long dick) I just wanted to say this because I didn’t want someone to read this and feel like they don’t count because they didn’t follow these two rich boys’ paths okay awesome

request: right here dickhead

James and Regulus have been dating for years. Strangely enough, they had been taking care of each other since day one. It was truly simple, once they moved in together their acts of service quadrupled. Suddenly James was sitting with Regulus on the edge of the bathtub, gently removing his chest tape. Regulus decided chest tape wasn’t enough, and James was reaching the shelves over Regulus’ elbow height for him. James became a supreme master at making soup while Regulus was in recovery from his top surgery. Eventually, Regulus was healed and extremely joyous. He was wandering around the house with his shirt off just for the hell of it. Regulus was prancing down the porch stairs to get the mail in only his James�� plaid pajama pants and cat slippers.

James was lucky enough to have loving accepting parents. He started puberty blockers early on and eventually, he swapped them out for testosterone so he neglected the want and or perceived need for a top surgery. James, after having years of practice, lost his uneasiness towards the injections. Regulus, however, was extremely terrified of needles. As a kid, he was practically breaking Sirius’ hand from his grip when he needed to get his vaccinations. Before he met James, Sirius would do them for him. Now, Regulus would stand in the kitchen covering his eyes with his forearm and turning away as far as he could. James would inject the shot as fast as possible, rewarding Regulus’ bravery with 80 kisses on his cheek and ice cream.

They were out to their friends, but it wasn’t exactly something mentioned frequently. It didn’t really matter all that much. Barty would call you a dickhead no matter what was in your pants. Marlene was similar but her go-to insult was ‘ bitchey-bitch-bitch-stupid-face’, friends only of course. You can’t have that insane unfiltered language out with strangers. Lily loved everyone, closing off every single phone call with ‘I love you’ even if it was customer service.

Peter was similar although instead he thanked people by saying ‘I appreciate you’. He once mentioned how he was working at a restaurant having a horrible day. He was yelled at more than thrice in a row, and he was certain if someone called him one more bad name he’d burst into tears. Then this woman came in, who appeared to have met the first dinosaur, and she was so kind to him. When she left she said ‘Thanks, baby. I appreciate you.’ And he sobbed in the freezer. Peter immediately engraved it into his dictionary. All their friends knew, but it was like knowing their favorite letter; it’s nice to know but that information doesn’t really come into play very frequently.

Then they met you. Regulus had dragged James to the bookstore. James loved going to the bookstore with Regulus. Regulus liked wandering for hours. He liked scanning the backs and summaries inside the front cover. James liked the bookstore mainly because Regulus liked it. He also liked looking through the cookbooks and workout guides. Sometimes when the story was empty he’d head towards the kid section, squeeze himself into one of the tiny plastic chairs, and do the puzzles. Eventually when Regulus would finish looking, a hefty stack in his arms, he’d find James. Usually, James would brag about how ‘those dumbasses’ had nothing on him. He finished eight puzzles in under a minute. Regulus would remind him the puzzles had six pieces each.

That time was different though. James had looked through all the cookbooks, finding one he liked. James looked at a few of the workout books, getting bored when they said something he didn’t agree with. He finished all the puzzles made for toddlers, and yet his boyfriend still wasn’t done. It was odd. So James went on a search for Regulus. He checked the poetry section first, no Regulus. He went to the fantasy next, no dice. James stalked up and down every aisle. His ears perched up at the sound of Regulus’ voice. It was a bit strange, Regulus didn’t usually volunteer to socially interact with anyone. James assumed he got trapped into small talk, rushing to his boyfriend’s rescue.

James found Regulus actually grinning with a stranger. James didn’t even know he could do that. Regulus was holding a book open, letting you lean to look over his shoulder. You both looked more than excited to finally meet somebody you could talk to about your favorite book. The more James looked at you, the more he understood why Regulus was so happy to talk to you. Delectable was a nasty word to use to describe a person so James opted instead for extremely stunning. Eventually with Regulus’ book opinions and James’ cheesy flirting, their couple grew into a throuple.

Your relationship is a little fresh now. In the way that you had no idea what either of their pajamas looked like but you knew exactly where their spoons were. James and Regulus weren’t entirely sure if you would accept them with open arms if they shared every part of them, including their favorite letter. They stayed silent for the most part, letting you stay ignorant just this once.

You were harboring your own skeleton in the closet. You haven’t told them you are genderfluid, and you haven’t told them how many frustrations that caused. You love who you are but for fucks sake could it be just a smidge easier? Your secret was weighing on you. It was all you could think about while you were out with your two amazing boyfriends. If you told them they could disprove and break up with you on the spot. They could also accept you but an overthinking mind never seems to be optimistic.

Your boyfriends seemed to notice your mood change, worried now you might’ve put together a couple of context clues and realized maybe they aren’t cis. What if now you were disgusted by them? James squashed that idea when Regulus voiced it, though it still lingered with him. Regulus knew James was just trying to relieve him of his worries but Regulus still appreciated his attempt.

Finally, the camel’s back broke and you were heading straight to their shared home. It was edging towards their bedtime the sun had set a couple of hours ago, fully relying on their warm lamps. They both had changed into their matching pajamas; plaid pants and Spiderman t-shirts. Regulus had slippers with tiny cat ears on the top and little cat faces on them. James however had Lighting McQueen slippers that lit up when he took a step. They were cute when he first got them but the novelty wore off rather quickly and now Regulus complains that James’ shoes give him a headache. Regulus settled into the barstool behind the kitchen counter with his reward ice cream. James leaned against the counter across from him, slurping very loudly on his smoothie. James jutted it out to Regulus.

“Want some?” Regulus looked up at James with a raised eyebrow.

“James, if I ever say I want some of your kale and banana smoothie, I give you full permission to assassinate me. Preferably quickly.” James pouted, pointing the lip of his glass back towards himself. Regulus rolled his eyes and took another bite of his ice cream.

“You could’ve just said no, also what did we say about suicide jokes?” James said, pointing over his shoulder at the small whiteboard on the fridge that said ‘6 days without a suicide joke’ in James’ handwriting. Regulus dropped his spoon back into his bowl, feeling particularly peeved at the unjust accusation.

“No, no. That’s not suicide, that's homicide. Two entirely different things. You can’t dock my streak just because you didn’t find the joke funny.” Regulus stuck his finger at James. James pushed Regulus’ finger away, leaning forward to steal a kiss from him. James pulled away, taking another sip of his smoothie as Regulus took another spoonful.

“No offense, babe, but I’m not sure if I know anyone who would find domestic homicide funny,” James added, with his straw still in his mouth. Regulus scoffed.

“That’s because you have lame friends,” James’ jaw dropped in offense at Regulus’ words. “Barty would find it hilarious, and Dorcas would find it mildly amusing.” Regulus retorted, grinning like he won their game. James pressed his lips together in disapproval. As he was opening his mouth to continue the verbal play fight, a knock on their door interrupted him. They both shared a look of confusion. James shrugged, leaving his smoothie on the counter to get to the door.

“See but Barty finds The Pear of Anguish funny,” James argued, his slippers lighting up on his way to the door.

“Barty’s a masochist, I’m not sure what you were expecting when you took him to that museum,” Regulus muttered into his bowl as James peered out the peephole. James hummed in a confused tone, opening the door to find you. You were not in pajamas and you looked rather stressed.

“Hey sweetheart, you okay?” James asked, worry lacing his words. He moved back letting you step into their foyer. Regulus looked up at James’ words. He doesn’t usually greet the door-to-door salesman like that. Regulus quietly joined you two at the door, he understood James’ greeting now but didn’t understand why you were visiting them looking so frazzled. You looked them both up and down, slightly pausing at James’ shoes. You shrugged your coat off, placing it on their coat rack. James found it at a thrift store and Regulus repainted it.

“You two look dashing.” You muttered as you straightened your shirt. Regulus glanced down at his pajamas, suddenly feeling slightly judged. He crossed his arms over the very large print of Spiderman.

“James picked it out,” Regulus whispered, trying to ignore the stinging on his cheeks. James’ chest puffed out, taking a wider stance and pulling at the end of his shirt so you can see the picture better.

“Aren’t we cute?” James said, confidence making him smile brighter. You nodded.

“Yeah, gotta love Spiderman.” You squished your lips together. Even with your words seeming relaxed your nerves were spreading to Regulus. James seemed to taste the uneasiness in the air.

“Are you alright? If this was planned I would’ve gotten you a shirt.” James reached over, rubbing Regulus’ shoulder to give him silent support. You nodded, staring at the ground to take in a deep breath.

“Right yeah. Sorry to drop in on you guys, but I think we need to talk.” You said, giving yourself a breath to steady yourself. Regulus felt his stomach jump into his throat. It felt tighter now, his heartbeat reaching his ears. Regulus glanced over to James, finding he was already looking. James gave him a tiny smile that Regulus could tell was forced.

“Yeah absolutely.” James brightly said, gesturing towards the living room. You lead the way. Regulus moved his hands to the back of his neck, trying to soothe himself. James noticed, grabbing both of Regulus’ shoulders to rub them, waddling behind Regulus. James kissed Regulus on his temple. Regulus reminded himself that even if what he thought was happening was happening, he’d still have James in the end.

Regulus and James settled on the couch, holding onto each other for emotional support. You started pacing in front of them, walking from one end of James’ favorite rug to the other. James intertwined his fingers with Regulus’, letting Regulus fiddle with them in his lap. It was better than biting his nails. ‘I should get a whiteboard for nail biting’ James thought to himself before zoning back in on your rapid pacing. Regulus’ eyes were following you with panic behind his head movements. Your anxiety was dripping out through your hands, slapping them together over and over again. James was starting to worry that Regulus would get hypnotized moving his eyes back and forth like that.

“You know, darling. I learned the hard way that anxious thoughts are like burps; better out than in.” James offered, hoping it would soothe you a little. You paused your pacing behind the coffee table, turning to face James.

“Did you just quote Shrek?” James clenched his jaw, feeling caught. James saw Regulus turning his head slowly to look at him out of the corner of his eye. James let out a nervous and breathy chuckle.

“It’s good advice,” James muttered, slipping further down the couch. You sighed and faced them both. You held your hands behind your back. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

“Right okay so I need to come clean to you two, I’ve been hiding something for a while now. It’s been stressing me out a lot and I think I would rather risk our relationship than have to go through this alone.” Regulus squeezed James’ hands tighter. James had flashbacks to Regulus getting a shot at the doctor's office.

“Is there another person?” Regulus abruptly said, cutting into your steady breathing time. You looked up at him shocked, quickly shaking your head.

“Oh, no, no, no. No. I would never do that. I would never cheat on you guys.” You quickly rushed out, like Regulus might implode if you didn’t get it out fast enough. James moved to make a fast joke, pushing a small bit of the thick tension out the door with a broom.

“I haven’t been cheating. Have you, Reg?” James asked with a pained grin. Regulus knew his tactics, joining in to shove some of his anxiety behind a potted plant.

“Not that I’m aware of.” Regulus felt himself let out a strained laugh that came out more like a cat hacking up a hairball. You looked at them both with a worried look. Regulus wanted to settle your nerves, giving you his shining smile. Which was just him showing his teeth with dead eyes. You took a step back, holding both your hands up.

“Okay well don’t do that.” You whispered. Regulus relaxed his face. You shivered, shaking out your worries through your hands.

“I’m just going to say it. It’s a lot of words so maybe just sit quietly and let me spill.” You looked up at them both for their agreement. James sat up straighter, giving you all of his attention. Regulus kept his wide, slightly unsettling, eyes on you. You gave them both an awkward smile.

“I’m genderfluid. Which if you don’t know means my gender kind of flows through like all of them. I’m kind of worried about telling you this because I’m not entirely sure if you’ll still think of me the same.” Your voice cracked. You let out a breathy chuckle wagging your finger towards the ground.

“Oh you cheeky mother fucker, pull it together.” You whispered to yourself. You pushed your shoulders back, speaking again. “And it’s just a little frustrating and confusing because the whole time I’m just second-guessing myself. I just feel like no matter what I do I’m never a hundred percent confident in myself. It’s like I’m sitting there wondering-“

“wondering if you’re valid or if you made it all up?” Regulus asked, somehow making his eyes wider. You looked away from your fiddling hands to stare at him quizzically. You whispered the tiniest agreeance, James was shocked he still heard it. James decided to speak up and comfort your frustrations.

“It’s alright that you feel that way, darling. You’re entirely valid. We’ll love you no matter what, unless it’s murder-“

“Well-“

”No matter what. I want you to be your happiest, whether that be doing naked cartwheels in the backyard or making a fort under the kitchen table. Man, woman, something else, a nice mixture of both, I’m here for you. Confusion and frustration happen all the time it's alright. I think it’s important to just make sure you do whatever makes you happiest for that moment or day.” James explained. As he talked Regulus watched your shoulders sink with relaxation. Your anxious eyebrows slowly retreated back to their resting place, the worry lines on your forehead dissapeared again. James let out his own sigh, glad he got to relax his partner again.

“And on a different note, I’m trans myself so I support you on extreme levels,” James added, giving you a bright smile. Regulus scoffed next to him.

“Oh, you’re trans? Not we’re trans?” James clutched his pearls, reeling back to look at Regulus.

“Well, I’m not going to come out for you. I don’t know if you’re comfortable doing that. It’s not my story to tell.” James said, shaking his head at Regulus. Regulus muttered a few choice words at James under his breath as he turned back to you. You looked to have a million math problems in your head.

“So if we could just wrap back around, you’re both trans?” Regulus and James nodded at your question in sync. You sighed, looking around the living room. You placed your hands on your hips in exasperation.

“Just to clear everything up for those at home, I’ve walking around for weeks anxious up the wazoo for absolutely no reason?” Regulus and James glanced at each other.

“yeah.”

“it appears that way, yes.” Regulus watched you groan and drop your head in your hands.

“To throw my two cents in, it’s totally valid to feel a little discombobulated. Gender is hard and often it’s difficult to figure out what you’re truly feeling, it took me years to realize I wasn't nonbinary. It’s entirely okay that you feel like this.” Regulus said, releasing James’ hand from his grip. James’ shook his hand out, finally getting feeling back in his fingers. You gave Regulus a small smile.

“Regulus, love of my life, can I please eat your face?” Regulus smiled at you, nodding his head. You quickly made your way around the coffee table to lightly peck Regulus’ lips. You moved past Regulus to kiss James as well. You squeezed yourself between the two of them. Regulus rested his head on your shoulder, moving your hand to play with in his lap. James pressed himself against you, smushing his cheek against yours.

“I'm the love of your life too, right?” James asked, his words rolling onto your cheek. You hummed.

“Yes, Jamie.” Regulus interrupted your sweet moment.

“James, do me a favor and go get my ice cream.” James let out a loud gasp, jumping out of his seat and jogging towards the kitchen.

“My smoothie!” You wrapped your arms around Regulus, kissing his temple.

“I wasn’t insulting your shirt before, by the way.” You whispered into his hair. Regulus nodded against your arm.

“Is his smoothie worthy of stealing?” You muttered as quietly as you could so James didn’t hear you. Regulus let out a snort.

“Oh fuck no.” Regulus said before adding “I’ll give you a few bites of my ice cream.” You gasped, smacking a kiss to the apple of his cheek.

“You’re so kind.” Regulus groaned at your words.

“Not really being kind. It’s my reward for being brave, as James said. And I know that was probably scary for you so technically speaking you do deserve some of it. It has nothing to do with me it's just like the rules.” Regulus said, trying to cover up that he might actually have a heart.

“Right, the rules.” Regulus hummed. James soon returned with his smoothie and shockingly two bowls of ice cream. He handed one to you and one to Regulus. You three sat on the couch as you finished your sweet treats and smoothie. Even though technically speaking your reward was already given to you, Regulus’ spoon would randomly stick out toward you. You thanked Regulus with a peck on his cheek after each spoonful. Eventually, when his bowl was empty your spoon would jut out towards him, he was quite brave coming out to you today. James seemed to notice the food sharing, offering up a sip of his smoothie. You and Regulus both grimaced at him in sync before turning back to your bowl.

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kaliforniahigh · 5 months ago

Note

Can you write about Noah and super short reader? I'm 4'11 🥺. Maybe he walks in on reader either climbing on the counter to reach something or standing on the counter looking for a snack. He starts keeping step stools in every room.

She wears his shirts like a dress with fishnets and doc martens on the regular.

Maybe they do the tiktok trend of 'showing my dog places they've never seen' but it's you being lifted by him to see above the fridge and other high places 😂

Ok, so a good while back I wrote about this exact same thought and someone made a drawing of Noah picking reader up so she can look over the fridge, but I can't find it for the life of me :((((( Anyways, I love this concept soo much!!!

Warnings: this is just fluff!

WC: 1.4k (a shortie, like the reader)

My requests are closed for now!

Noah has walked in on you climbing on things to reach somewhere or something way too many times. He's always made a mental note to keep a little step stool for you, to avoid the risks of you falling, but he actually never got around to it.

Deep down, he knows it's because he loves helping you. Loves thinking that you can rely on him to always do this one thing for you.

But, one day, he had to draw the line. You were cleaning his room, dusting the shelves and the frames he kept on the wall. The thing is, he hung them too high for you to reach, So, without thinking twice, you rolled his computer chair to where you needed it, and stepped on top of it.

You were humming some random tune under your breath, when you heard an alarmed voice behind you.

"Are you out of your mind?"

You got startled and felt the chair start to swivel and roll to the side, making you lose balance. Before you could fall to the floor, Noah was beside you, grabbing you by the hips and landing you on the ground safely.

"Oh my God! Why did you have to scare me?", you scolded him, giving him a little slap on the shoulder, trying to regain your composure after almost faceplanting on the floor.

"Why on earth would you stand on top of a rolling computer chair?", he questioned you, voice exasperated and eyes still wide from your almost accident.

"I was trying to clean the frames", you pointed to the various frames on the wall to get your point across.

"I saw that! But you need to be more careful. God knows what would've happened of I didn't catch you", he was still agitated, and that was agitating you.

"I would've been fine! I almost fell because YOU scared me!", you gestured with your hands, voice becoming a little louder.

Noah sighed out loud, rubbing his forehead with his fingers.

"Ok, maybe I shouldn't have startled you, but your idea was not the brightest", he tried to reason.

"I'm used to doing this. I've had to climb stuff my whole life to reach certain things", you turned around to resume your cleaning when Noah grabbed you by the hips.

"I'm sorry, ok? I don't mean to be a dick", he put both hands on your shoulder and started to massage them. "It's just that I worry about your well-being"

You relaxed into his touch, the tenseness leaving your body instantly.

"I know that. But the word is a very different place for someone who's 4'11''. You're 6'4'', things are way easier for you", you didn't mean to complain, but you did huff a little when you said this out of frustration.

"I know, I know", he pecked you on the lips. "I'm sorry, ok?", he looked you in the eyes, wanting you to know that he was being sincere.

"It's ok, I forgive you", you circled your arms around his middle and rested your cheek on his clothed chest. "I'm never standing on top of a rolling chair ever again".

"Not, you're not. Because I'm getting you a step stool instead", said and you whined.

"Noah, no. That's embarassing", you frowned at the ideia. You weren't a 12 year old anymore.

"What's more embarassing, a step stool, or going to the hospital, looking like a fool, because you fell from a chair?", he raised both of his eyebrows at you, as if to challenge you. You thought for a minute, but you knew he was right.

"Ok, you can get me a step stool. But it has to be foldable so I can hide it, and I won't step on it if people are watching", he smiled at your remarks, but actually impressed that you gave in so easily.

"I'll still grab things for you when I'm around", he put both hands on your back, rubbing them up and down.

"You better", you rested your head against him once again. "I'm tired of cleaning, you stressed me out. Let's go lay on the couch".

He laughed at your jab at him, but grabbed you by the hand, leading you out of the room, switching the light off and closing the door behind you.

"Let's go. I can grab you some snacks from the top shelf", you slapped him lightly on the back, as he expected, and his laugh only intensified. He couldn't see you you, but you were also sporting a big smile on your face.

"I want the Doritos"

Everything has been going well since you made your deal with Noah. The day after the almost accident, he went out and bought you the step stoll, and you've been biting your tongue to admit that it was actually a great decision.

One day, when you were laying on the couch, casually strolling on your phone, you heard Noah coming down the stairs. He was working on some songs on his computer - or that's you thought he was doing - and you usually left him alone for that.

He stood in front of you, and you looked at him over the top of your phone. He didn't say anything, but he had a smile on his face that you weren't sure if you liked. Locking you phone and dropping it on your lap, you asked:

"What?"

"I saw this trend on TikTok and I wanted to do it with you", he had an expression on his face that told you you might not like this.

"Noah, you don't even have TikTok"

"I have a TikTok", he said this a little lower, hoping you wouldn't hear it.

"You have a TikTok?"

"I do", he averted his gaze from you.

"Since when do you have a TikTok?", you asked. He was unbelivable.

"That's not important right now. Have you seen this trend where owners pick their dogs up to show them places they haven't seen before?"

"Yes, I have. It's adorable", you anwered and side-eyed him at the same time.

"I wanted to do it for you", he said and waited for your answer. You just looked at him with an unreadable expression.

"Are you comparing me to a dog?", you deadpanned, and saw his expression change immediately.

"No, baby, of course not. I just thought it would be cute"

"Yeah", you hummed, as if in thought". "It would actually be cute", you agreed.

"So you'll let me do it?", he asked, but was already opening his camera app on his phone.

"Yeah, I will, But we won't post it", you said, getting uo from the couch.

"What do you want to see first?", he asked.

"The top of the fridge", you walked to the kitchen and he followed after you. You positioned yourself and Noah propped the phone on the wall behind the fridge, the phone sitting on top of it.

"Ok, so I'll grab you by the hips and lift you up", he instructed and you nodded.

He tried picking you up the first time, but you started giggling, remembering the dog videos you watched. The movent threw him off and you landed back on your feet.

"What's so funny?", he asked, looking at you.

"I'm just remembering the dog videos. They look so confused, it's so funny", you giggled once more.

"Ok, I'll try it again", he picked you up once more and you were finally able to see on top of the fridge. When you saw it though, you let out a big gasp.

"What is it?", Noah asked you.

"Oh my God, Noah. It's so dusty up in here. I need to clean this right now", you exclaimed, running your finger over the top and seeing the trail it left behind.

"You gotta show me other places right now, because our house is dirty and I didn't even know it", you said and made your way to the bathroom. "C'mon, you gotta show me the top of the bathroom's upper cabinet"

Noah didn't even know what to say, he just followed after you, with a smile on his face at how absolutely adorable you were.

So the day went by like this, him showing you the top part of places and you insisting you clean them. But he didn't let you use the step stool this time, adamant on holding you, using the excuse that he didn't go to the gym, so this was him working on his biceps.

You were more than happy to feel the tight grip of his big hands around your waist.

#bad omens #noah sebastian #bad omens imagine #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian imagine #bad omens smut #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fluff #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian headcanons #noah sebastian one shot #bad omens fic #bad omens fluff #bad omens headcanons #bad omens one shot #requested

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cmncisspnandmore · 1 year ago

Text

One Night Stand; Part 3

Pairings: Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Reader

Warnings: OOC Simon (kinda?), fluff, alcohol, pregancy, talks of abortion, vomiting,

Summary: Its been 3 months since your night in the sheets with Simon and your life just got a whole lot more complicated.

A/N: I know, I know. okay. I get it. Not everyone like the pregnancy trope, so if you dont im sorry. If i lose some readers for this then im sad to see you go but i hope to see you in future writings i do for the COD men. This is not going to be like other pregnancy tropes that get all mushy and fluffy and light after. This story will be filled with dark themes coming in later chapters that i hope will keep people interseted. We all know Simon Riley's life cant be easy, so if you're still here after this part. Buckle up. Its a wild ride.

Word Count: 5,015

New to the Series? Catch up here: Part 1, Part 2

The bar looked exactly the same as it did three months ago. The music wasn't as loud, but that was probably because it was still early. Many people were still at work at 5pm on a Thursday.

Not you, you had found a job working online, writing articles for business pages. It wasn't the most exciting thing in the world but it paid well, and it occupied most of your time. An added bonus of not leaving for work was you never had to worry about coming home from the office to find someone on your couch. You shake your head trying to clear the thoughts. You weren't even 100% sure why you were here, the chances that Soap even knew Simon were slim. But he had said he knew almost everyone that came to the bar.

So there was a chance.

One you couldn't pass up, you had to at least try.

Wrapping your coat around you tighter, you walk into the bar. The dim lights reflect off the shiny tables. A few people sit at them, watching a replay of a game on tv. You glance around behind the bar, looking for the familiar mohawk.

It pops up from behind the bar towards the end, Soap holds a bin of limes in his arms. He sets the bin down on the shiny black countertop, pulling a small cutting board out from the top of the bin and a knife. He slices a lime in half as you slide into the seat in front of him. His blue eyes meet yours and a smile breaks out on his face.

“Lass! Good to see ya, you disappeared on me the last time ye were here!” He smiles, turning the lime and cutting it again.

“Sorry about that, I needed to clear my head, I hope I didn't upset you,” you smile back, placing your hands on the bar.

“Nay, what can I get for ye? Vodka Soda?” he asks, setting the knife down as he turns towards the shelves of alcohol behind him.

“Uh, actually, can I just have water instead?” You bite your bottom lip and Soap nods, grabbing a glass and filling it. He slides the glass of water in front of you, and you stare down into it.

“Everything okay?” he asks, looking at you with one raised eyebrow.

“Oh yeah, I'm fine. Early day tomorrow ya know? Don't want to be hung over is all.”

“Aye i get that, so what brings you here?” Soap leans his forearms against the bar, “Miss me?” He smiles.

You can't help but roll your eyes, “Oh totally,” you laugh.

“I knew it, not many women can resist the MacTavish charm,” Soap grins, he stands back up and picks up the knife. He cuts each lime into wedges before putting them in the bin, you reach over grabbing one from the cutting board and squeeze it into your water.

“Aye! Paw off,” Soap smiles, shaking the knife at you. A smile of your own breaks out on your lips as you watch him.

“You have plenty to spare, plus someone around here has to keep you busy.”

“I assure you Lass, the folk around here keep me plenty busy,” Soap points over your shoulder where Price and Gaz are walking in. They’re deep in a conversation as they make their way over to where you are sitting in front of Soap.

Kyle is the first to notice you, and he pauses looking at you over. “Y/n, it's good to see you again, not going to lie. I was kinda sad you left without a goodbye last time,” Gaz takes the seat on the left.

“Sorry about that, I promise to say bye this time. I don’t want to bruise your ego,” You say over the rim of your glass.

“Good, I don't think I can hear him wallow about it anymore,” Price says as he sits in the stool on your right. “So what do you think of London? Everything you could’ve imagined?”

“It’s alright… It rains a lot more than I'm used to, but it's not too bad. Definitely different from the small town I'm from,” you look over at him. He gives you a small smile, and turns towards Soap.

“Soap, we ship out tomorrow morning, be ready at 0600 hours,” Price grunts as Soap puts the last lime into the bin.

“Yes sir,” Soap turns towards the bottles of liquor on the shelf and grabs a bottle of bourbon. He sets it down on the counter with a soft thud, he then grabs two glasses for them, pouring each man two fingers. He slides the glasses across the bar to them, the acidic smell of the bourbon makes your stomach turn. Saliva pools in your mouth as you desperately try to swallow.

“Oh uh, Soap, I wanted to ask if you knew someone actually,” You take a sip of water, your eyes following him as he moves behind the bar. Soaps bright blue eyes look over at you, his brows furrowed together.

“I might,” he smiles. A loud noise from behind you startles you, and a drunken man tumbles into the back of your stool. His drink spilling down your back as he leans against the back of the barstool, the smell of the alcohol hits your nose.

“Oops,” the drunken man mumbles, his breath wafting over your face.

Your stomach rolls, as Price and Gaz help the man up. Gaz and Price half drag him away from you as he continues to mumble about his drink. Gaz says something and pats him on the chest as they pull him to the door. You stand from the chair, the fabric of your coat and shirt now sticking to you. Nausea rolls through you as you try to breathe through your mouth.

“You alright lass? You look a little green,” Soap is now standing in front of you, a clean bar towel in his hands. He gently pats the towel against your soaked shirt and coat trying to soak up some of the liquid that's seeping into your skin.

You can't answer, if you open your mouth you’re sure you’ll throw up so you push past Soap and hurry towards the bathroom. Soap follows behind you, pausing at the door to the women's room. You shove open one of the stall doors and drop to your knees. The cold tiles bite through the fabric of your jeans, as the contents of your stomach is emptied into the porcelain bowl. It takes you several minutes to stop dry heaving, your stomach clenching painfully with each contraction of your abs. When the feeling settles you stand, before rinsing your mouth out with some water from the tap. You grab a paper towel, wiping your hands and mouth.

“You alright in there?” Soap calls through the door, his voice laced with concern.

“Yeah..” you call back, tossing the paper towel into the bin and pulling open the door, “Sorry about that.” You shove your hands into your pockets as you come face to face with Soap. His eyebrows knit together in worry as he looks over you, one hand hovers in the air as if hes going back and forth on if he should touch you or not.

“You su-” he pauses looking over your shoulder, his eyes widened slightly.

“MacTavish, the bar can't run itself…” A familiar voice rumbles, the hair on the back of your neck stands on end. Memories of your night 3 months ago rushes back, that same voice that murmured praise to you as he pounded into you.

You whip around, at the end of the hall stands Simon, his black hoodie pulled up over his head, his mouth and nose covered by a skull print face mask. His brown eyes widen slightly as he sees you. “Y/n…” he whispers.

“You two know each other?” Soap muses from behind me, his hands coming to rest on my shoulder as he walks by. An uncomfortable silence settles over the hallway and Soap slips by, muttering “I’ll leave you two alone…”

Simon takes a few steps towards you, and it seems like he takes up the whole hallway. You look up as he towers over you, his face is unreadable, he lifts a hand, brushing his fingertips across your cheek. It sends electricity skittering across your skin, your breath catches in your throat.

Over the past 3 months you have tried to forget about the man whose brown eyes haunted your dreams. Whose touch caused your mind to go blank. Like someone wiping a harddrive. But there was no forgetting, not anymore. He was here in front of you, sure, you had come to ask Soap if he knew him. But you hadn't expected to run into him tonight. You still had no idea what you were going to say to him. How do you justify just leaving his house at 3am?

“You could've said goodbye, you know… You didn't have to sneak out and call an Uber at 3am..” Simon whispers, and guilt slams into you. He knew you left. He wasn't asleep like you thought…

“I-I..” you stumble over your words, unsure what to say. There wasn't anything you could say really. You knew you should’ve just waited, dealt with the awkward small talk. Maybe even exchange numbers you would never plan on using. But nope.

Instead you fled. Just like you fled after your sister's funeral.

At least you were consistent.

“I’m not upset, I understand.” Simon adds after a moment, his hands shoved deep in his pockets of his hoodie.

“Simon.. I.. I’m sorry.. I’ve been going through a lot. And i didnt .. I couldn't face you after that. Not, not that you did anything wrong. Because you didn't! I mean you were great. I just,” You run a hand through your hair. “God, this is not how I wanted this to go.”

“Breathe. Love, breathe.” Simons hands cup your face and you freeze. “It’s okay, like I said I'm not upset with you,” he lets his hands drop, and you nod.

“I didn't know you knew Soap,” He muses, leaning against the wall. You shuffle your feet, taking a deep breath.

“Yeah… I met him the same night I met you… You know him too, yeah?”

“Soap, Gaz, Price and I all serve together,” Simon rubs the back of his neck with his hand, looking slightly uncomfortable.

“Oh! I don't know how I didn't pick up that you were military,” You bite your lip looking down at his black boots.

“We didn't exactly get to know each other very much that night..” Simon says, and a small blush creeps up your cheeks at the mention of your night together. “So what brings you here tonight?” Simon asks.

The familiar feeling of nausea swirls in your stomach again, you clench your fists, nails biting into your palm. Something you have come to do a lot over the past few months. “I came here to ask about you, actually. I needed to talk to you..” You whisper, and Simon's brows furrow.

“Well you found me.. What did you need to talk about?” He asks, as you chew your bottom lip. Anxiety creeps into your chest, wrapping itself around your lungs like an icy hand. The air rushes from your lungs, your eyes burning with tears.

How the hell could you turn this man's life upside down?

“Hey, hey,” Simon whispers, his large hands clasp your shoulders steadying you. The world feels a million miles away, like you were floating out in space untethered. Everything sounds muffled, and the lights are suddenly too bright in the hallway. You raise your shaky hands, running them through your hair. A large hand guides you down the hall a little until the bitter cold air of winter in London hits you. You gasp, your lungs filling with the cold air, goosebumps break out along your heated skin.

The world slowly comes back into focus, soft murmuring in your ear as large arms wrap around your middle holding you against a solid chest. “Breathe, you’re alright, you’re okay… Just breathe, Love.” Simon murmurs into your ear. Tears fall from your eyes, trails of hot tears stream down your cold cheeks.

“I’m sorry I left that night…” you gasp in between sobs, “and i am so sorry im going to say this…” You whisper the last part. At first you aren't sure Simon heard you but after a moment he turns you around. His arms are still around you as he looks down at you, your teeth starting to chatter from emotion and the wind.

“Whatever you have to say can't be that bad, love. Did you find out you had some like STI or something? Do I need to get tested?” He asks, his brown eyes searching your tear stained face. His hands moving up and down your body in an attempt to warm you up and comfort you at the same time.

You shake your head, if only an STI was the least of your problems. “N-no, i didn't give you anything like that…” you choke out.

Simon watches you as you stand face to face with him in the same alley you met him in 3 months ago. Although this time you’re different, instead of the woman who was caught in her own head. Who was running from demons he couldn't see, trying her best to show the world it couldn't break her. Instead standing in front of him was a woman who was scared, who looked so lost in the world, like she was barely hanging on. He studies you, even as you stand in front of him crying, your entire body shaking. You were still beautiful, and he would be lying if he said he didn't think about you.

You had haunted him every moment since he heard you leave the apartment. When he heard the door click shut it took everything in him not to follow you out. But he didn’t, he laid there staring up at the ceiling until almost 5, before he got up and started making himself some tea. It was then he noticed the note you left your swirling handwriting on the scarp paper wishing him well. He was saddened to see you hadn’t left a way to contact you, but part of him understood. He had offered you a chance to get out of your head for a while. He hadn’t asked you on a date. He DIDN'T date.

The onslaught of disappointment was tough for him to swallow. Simon was never upset when a woman he brought to bed left with no goodbye, and a hasty note. Simon preferred it that way, it was better if the one night stands didn’t stick around but for some reason Simon couldn’t stop thinking about you. About how your curves felt beneath his palms. The silky smooth expanse of your skin. The way your moans stirred something deep in him, or the way your eyes told him more than you ever would.

Now as he looked down at you, standing in the darkened alley way. He knew whatever you wanted to say was about to bring his world crashing down. But instead of the overwhelming feeling to flee, that he normally had when confronting emotional issues like this. Simon wanted to hold you close and tell you that it was okay, that whatever it was you could face it and make it out the other side. During his years of doing interrogations and studying people he had learnt the signs of when someone was teetering on the edge. It was clear in your face and body language that you were one gentle gust of wind from toppling over. Crumbling into pieces he wasn’t sure anyone could put back together.

“What is it then Sweetheart? I’ll help you figure it out, whatever it is.” He whispers, pulling you closer to him, his body heat seeping into you, as the wind blows. You sniffle, your shaking hands coming up to swipe at the tears under your eyes. You take one last breath, eyes closed as you brace yourself.

“I’m pregnant.”

It’s like the world stopped spinning.

Time was suddenly suspended, as you pried your eyes open to look at Simon. His brown eyes were guarded. His brows pulled together, as his hands stopped their motions for a fraction of a second. Your lungs burned from holding your breath, your throat tight. Every muscle in your body was tense, as you waited for him to say something. Do something. You needed some sort of reaction from him. Yelling, screaming, swearing, anything was better than the earth shattering silence that took place after you muttered the two words you hadn’t yet said out loud since you found out.

It wasn’t like you planned on getting pregnant by your one night stand. Hell. It was the LAST thing you wanted. You were always careful to get your birth control shot every 3 months. But with the chaos of the last few months, somewhere along the line you must’ve missed your last appointment. It wasn’t until you went into your appointment earlier today to get a shot that they had informed you they couldn’t administer it. That you were already pregnant.

“Okay.”

The word shocks you, and for a moment you aren’t sure you hear him right. You raise an eyebrow, as you look at Simon.

“Okay?” You ask.

“Yeah, okay. We’ll figure it out.” Simon states, his hands resuming their soothing motion up and down your sides.

“You’re not.. not going to freak out?” You whisper.

“There’s nothing to freak out about, this isn’t just going to go away. So we need to talk about our options, and we will. Just got standing in the back alley of a pub.”

“Okay…” you whisper, as Simon’s hands guide you towards the emergency exit door that he brought you through. The inside of the bar is louder than before, more people have shown up. Soap, Gaz and Price are all talking at the end of the bar. Your glass of water is filled and sitting on a napkin. They all look over when you two walk over.

“Ghost, Soap was just telling me that you and y/n know each other. Small world isn’t it?” Gaz smiles, his brown eyes looking between us.

“We do,” Simon turns to Price, “I’m going to be bringing her home, I’ll see you at 0600 tomorrow, Captain.”

There’s a look that passes between Price and Simon, but he just nods, then turns towards you. “I hope to see you again, dear, maybe next time we can all have a nice meal.”

“Maybe,” you smile, after waving goodbye to Soap and Gaz, Simon leads you out to the street where the cars are parked.

“Did you drive here?” He asks, looking down at you.

“No I took the bus,” you shove your hands into the pockets of your coat. It was still wet from where the guy spilt his drink, and you shivered.

“I’ll drive you home,” Simon takes your hand, pulling you towards his truck. He pulls open the passenger door and waits for you to get settled in the seat before shutting it. You run your hands together as Simon climbs into the driver's seat. He starts the truck, turning the heat on high.

“Where do you live?” He asks, as he turns on the headlights.

“On Ashton street, the apartment complex there” from the corner of your eye you see Simon visibly stiffened, but he doesn’t say anything as he pulls away from the curb. The ride is mainly quiet, neither one of you having much to say. As you get closer to your apartment your anxiety starts to grow again. What if he tells you to get rid of it?

Is that what you wanted? What if he decided he would rather give it up for adoption? Would he help you find a family? Maybe he would tell you he didn’t want anything to do with a baby? Could you deal with a baby? Bile burns in the back of your throat, and you try to swallow it back down. You weren’t about to throw up all over his nice truck. The grimy bathroom of a bar was one thing, but Simon’s leather interior of his car was not an option. Simon turns down a side street, there weren’t many streetlights on this stretch of the drive. You try to focus on the passing shadows but the rolling and twisting in you hug doesn’t let up.

“Can you pull over please?” You whisper, and Simon glances at you. Your hands bunched in the fabric of your coat, your eyes closed as you take deep breaths. Simon eases the car over, barely putting the car in park before you flung the door open and hop out. You move a few feet into the woods, your hands scraping against the tough bark of a tree, as you get sick. Bile burns your throat and nose, tears stream down your cheeks.

Warm hands gather the hair from your face and hold it back. Holding your hair back with one hand the other rubs up and down your back. It takes several minutes of dry heaving for you to be able to stand up. A handkerchief is suddenly floating in front of you. You take it and wipe your mouth with it, shoving it into your pocket after.

“You okay?” Simon asks, as you take a deep breath.

“Yeah, I’m okay, sorry..” you mumble, as you turn back to the car and climb back in. Simon doesn’t say anything as he climbs in and continues to drive to your apartment. As he parks his car, he glances around, his eyes resting on the boarded up windows of the glass door.

“Everything okay?” You ask, noticing as he stares at the glass like he’s trying to get it to tell him what happened to it.

“Yeah. Sorry, let’s go inside,” he mumbles, climbing out and coming to your side. He pulls open your door and offers you a hand. You walk towards the building Simon’s entire body is tense as some residents barrel out of the door. They’re shouting and swearing as they stumble out, a lit cigarette dangling from their fingers. Simon pushes you behind him, as they pass, he watches as they head over to a parked car and continue arguing in front of it.

“They’ll stop arguing after a while. They do this often..” you mutter to Simon as you take his hand pulling him towards the door. He grunts and follows you up the three flights of stairs to your apartment. You hesitate, your hand on the knob as you take a deep breath. Entering was always the hardest part now, every time your hand touches the handle the images of your family break through the mental box you shoved them into. You let out the breath you were holding and pushed open the door. Flicking on the light switch next to the door.

Your eyes falling on the empty couch against the far wall in the living room. Some of the tension leaves your shoulders as you stare at the threadbare fabric. You step further into the apartment allowing Simon to slip in behind you. He turns the locks on the door, and reaches down unlacing his boots.

“I don't have much to offer.. Is water okay?” You ask as you shrug off your alcohol stained coat. The fabric is a sticky mess, the fabric ruined from the drink spilt on it at the bar. Tossing it onto the counter, you head over to the cabinet and take down two glasses.

“Water is okay,” Simon walks into your living room and takes a seat. He watches you fill the two glasses with water and you come and sit on the other side of the couch, handing him the glass.

“When did you find out?” Simons asks, taking his face mask off and shoving it into his pocket and taking a sip of water.

“This afternoon… I went in to get my birth control shot and they make you do a pregnancy test…” You pull your legs up to your chest, holding the glass of water in one hand. The other hand wraps around your shins keeping them pulled up to your chest.

“Did they tell you how far along you are?” He asks, “So we know what our options are, I mean.”

“They said based on the blood work, 12 weeks. But I have to go in to get an ultrasound next week..”

“Okay, so we don't have a lot of time to make a choice… have you thought about what you want to do?” Simon sets his glass down on the table next to the couch.

“I .. I don't know.. I was waiting to hear what you had to say before I made up my mind.” You mumble, your eyes trained on a spot of carpet that is fraying.

“If I'm being honest, I never wanted kids. They were never in my cards… I'm not saying I don't like them, kids are great, I just never pictured myself having any,,” he admits.

Your heart sinks.

Here we go, he's going to tell you to get rid of it, and tell you to delete his number, forget he exists and move on with your life.

“But, with you, it feels right.. There's just something about you that I can't get out of my head and at the risk of sounding like a total barbarian. The thought of having you in my life until I die because of this baby fills me with excitement. I wanted to go after you when you snuck out of my apartment but I didn't want you to be uncomfortable. The night I spent with you was one of the best nights I've ever had. So if you would like to, I would love the chance to raise this baby with you. Even if it's as friends and nothing more. Because I know that you were put into my life for a reason, and I'm going to take any chance I can get to keep you around,” Simon finishes, his hand coming to rest on your ankle.

You sit there for a few moments, mind reeling with everything he just said to you. He wanted to raise a baby with you? Just so he could get to know you? Did you really have that much of a profound effect on him? Would he still feel the same when he found out what had happened to you? Could you do this? I mean really do this?

Babies are huge commitments. They were for life; there was no backing out. But the way Simon was looking at you, like he would take on the world for you with barely knowing you. It made you feel like you could do it. As long as you didn't have to do it alone, well, at least not completely. You chew on your bottom lip for a few more minutes, the thoughts rolling around in your head as Simon's eyes trail around your apartment.

“Okay…” you finally whisper and Simon's head whips towards you.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay. I-i don't think i can get rid of it anyway… The thought makes me feel sick,” you confess and the tension in Simon's shoulders all but disappears.

“Alright, we can figure this out. No pressure for us to be together, we can just start by becoming friends, and seeing where things go okay?” He smiles, and its a real genuine smile. Your heart stutters in your chest, and you can't help your own smile that spreads across your lips.

“If we’re being honest here,” you sigh, wringing your hands together in your lap,”I couldn't stop thinking about you either… I mean, even before all… yeah.. You know.”

Simon's hand comes over to rest on the side of your face, and he leans forward pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I'm glad to hear that I wasn't the only one with lingering thoughts,” he chuckles.

Simon drops his hand and looks around your place once more, a furrow deep in his brow. He opens his mouth to say something but thinks better of it, before he notices the time on the clock hanging on your wall. It was almost 10 and he needed to check over his gear before he shipped out in the morning.

“I hate to do this… but I have to go,” his lips pulled down into a thin straight line.

“Oh right.. You told Price you would see him in the morning…”

“Yeah… Look, i can't tell you much, but i don't know how long i’ll be gone…” he looks around, and grabs the notebook you write your ideas for articles down in and scribbles on a spare piece. “This is my number, i won't promise i’ll respond while i'm away, but if anything happens, call this number 3 times in a row and you’ll get through to someone who can get a message to me okay? But that is only for emergencies, otherwise just text me and i’ll do my best to get back to you, alright?” He tears the paper out, coming to stand in front of you. He presses the paper into your hand. It crumples slightly as you close your hand around it.

“Okay,” you murmur, looking up at him from your spot on the couch. His fingers crush along your cheek as he brushes a strand of your hair back from your face.

“Be safe, keep the door locked… i’ll be back soon and we’ll go do something fun and get to know each other.” Simon smiles, as he takes a few steps backwards towards the door.

“I’ll hold you to it,” you smile, “Be safe out there.”

The only response is the soft click of the door.

Next: Part 4

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