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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 2 months

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Chapter 1: Are You Always Like This?

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you never expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you’re around him the more you hate him, but you can’t help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team. (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Implied/Eventual), Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Protective Ben/ Soldier Boy, Fake Dating

Word Count: 7.4 K (OOPS)

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+/Mature because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), swearing, mentions of sex, sexual innuendo, sexual tension, violence. Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

A/N: I know I know, I should be working on "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love," but this idea was swirling around in my head and I had to write it.

Masterlist

Take A Chance On Me Masterlist

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

*********************************************************

"Alright Butcher, I'm done." You sigh closing the file in front of you and standing from the worn wooden table covered in empty Chinese food containers and stacks of papers almost as tall as you. "If I read another word about trying to stop an electrical current, I'm going to commit toaster bath and I'm taking you with me."

It was late, past two in the morning, but Butcher had a lead on a B-list supe that had been using his electrical powers to steal cars and run a chop shop business downtown. You had been close to catching him yesterday, so close in fact that your eyebrows were still a little crispy from when he shot a bolt of lightning at your face that you only dodged in the nick of time when Soldier Boy grabbed the back of your shirt and yanked you out of the way. Unfortunately, your shirt hadn't survived, it had ripped and you spent the rest of the day wearing one of Butcher's oversize Hawaiian shirts all the while Soldier Boy told you that it was a waste to keep a pretty little figure like yours covered up.

I hate him so much.

When Butcher had initially asked you to join his team a month ago you were excited, but then you found out that you were going to be stuck with Soldier Boy. The supe, that despite Annie's arguments should be given back to the government and put on ice, was allowed to join Butcher's team after he took down Homelander. Who was currently frozen on ice, somewhere. As long as Homelander was far from you, you didn't care. The guy gave you the creeps.

But the team still couldn't figure out where the electricity manipulating supe was hiding or where he was dropping the cars, which meant you had spent the past twelve hours staring at files and a computer screen so hard that you felt like your brain going to melt out of your ears.

"Do whatever ya want kid. I'm not ya damn babysitter." Butcher grunts, his face hidden behind his own file. His boots were on the table and he was leaning back in his chair so far that you were tempted to tip him over, all it would take was a good solid kick.

You smile at him. Butcher was adept at pretending that he didn't want you around, of course you knew how antsy he got when you weren't there to offer your opinion. You figured that he just liked pushing people away and given his history you understood that.

Annie sits up from where she and Hughie are cuddling on the couch. "Why don't you stay?" Her brow furrows with worry. Annie was big on the whole, "women not walking at home alone at night thing," which normally you didn't, but you figured that whatever was waiting outside the apartment was probably less intimidating than Homelander. And you could handle it.

"Because I'd like to sleep in my own bed tonight and not that godforsaken rickety cot in the corner that Frenchie got. Can't stand that one spring that always seems so happy to see me." You pull your leather jacket off of the back of the chair and whirl it around your shoulders, before bringing your hair out from under the collar.

Hughie snorts.

"Hey, that cot is an antique!" Frenchie crows from his highbacked chair spewing a mouthful of smoke into the air. Kimiko was sitting at the coffee table in front of him working on her writing, a thick black marker clutched in her hand. MM was taking the night off, but you thought he was probably trying to avoid Soldier Boy.

"Yeah well, that cot is about as old as grandpa over there." You gesture to where Soldier Boy is sitting in another one of the armchairs in the corner watching you while puffing on a joint.

He was always watching you and due to your inability to read his mind it made it difficult for you to gauge what he was thinking, but you assumed that it was the usual macho crap he spouted 100% of the time. But he wasn't checking you out, well this time he wasn't. You had caught him staring at your butt more than once, and he'd made several comments about exactly what he'd like to do to you, but right now an emotion glimmered behind his eyes that you couldn't place.

Soldier Boy stands from the chair. He was wearing a dark t-shirt that stretched over his chest and a pair of blue jeans that fit him just right, well, if you were looking at that. You were, but it was easier to pretend that you weren't. It was easier to pretend that he wasn't the most attractive man you'd ever seen in your life.

Damn it, why does someone so attractive have to be such a dick?

"A lady like you shouldn't be walking home alone this late." He frowns at you.

"Like me?" You arch an eyebrow.

"Good thing she ain't a lady." Butcher chuckles at his joke

You punch him hard on the arm, not enough to break it, but enough to make it hurt.

“Bloody hell woman.” Butcher rubs his sore bicep shooting you an angry look.

Not many people could look intimidating while wearing a Hawaiian shirt, but Butcher pulled it off. Not many people looked good in a Hawaiian shirt either, but Butcher pulled that off too.

"I'm serious." Soldier Boy's eyes narrow.

"Oh now you're so chivalrous?" You cock your hip to the side, planting your hands on your hips. "Didn't you try to kill me last month?"

"To be fair, you were trying to kill me-"

"Because you were trying to kill Annie. Where was the chivalry when you tried to tear me apart with your bare hands?"

"There are plenty of other things I'd like to do to you with my bare hands sweetheart." His grin turns wolfish. "I'd be happy to show you sometime, perhaps you'd like some company?"

"I'd rather spend an hour with that ancient spring than roll around with you." You tap your lip thoughtfully. “Then again I’m sure that cot is the same age as you and it can at least get it up.”

Annie muffles a snort behind her hand.

“Last time I checked everything was working, perhaps you’d like to see for yourself?” Soldier Boy smirks.

"Can't you keep in your pants for once?" Butcher sighs, tilting the file downward to glare at Soldier Boy.

You can't help but smile at Butcher's response. Butcher might have tried to push you away, but even you could see his protective instincts. That became wildly apparent whenever you went out on a mission alone and although you would think that it was annoying for someone to think they needed to protect you, in Butcher's case you made an exception.

Soldier Boy rolls his eyes. "She shouldn't walk home alone."

You wave your hand over the wilting fern on the kitchen counter, eyes shifting to green for a moment as it perks up. It was the only plant in the house and although six people lived in this apartment, not one ever remembered to water it. "And you shouldn't butt into my business."

Soldier Boy opens his mouth to speak, but Annie interrupts his train of thought.

"Wait y/n. Coffee tomorrow?" Annie asks ignoring them. She's sitting up from the couch, her body turned towards you with both of her hands on the back cushions.

She was one of your best friends, well, really one of your only friends. You'd grown up together and when Annie moved to New York you had decided to move and take some college classes in the city while you worked at a small garden shop after class part time.

The owner still couldn't figure out why nothing you cared for seemed to die.

You usually kept your status as a supe on the down low, and only used your powers when you really had to, which wasn't often before you joined Butcher's team. You'd only lasted two semesters before Annie came to ask you for help finding Soldier Boy and after that, Butcher asked you to join his team for shit pay. You accepted but you still worked at the garden shop part-time, also for terrible pay, but you loved it there.

Your powers made it easy to make sure nothing died and sometimes it felt like home being surrounded by plants. Caring for them was the one thing you seemed to be good at, and sometimes they felt like family.

You didn't have much family left, beside your grandmother and your older brother who still lived back in Des Moines, and sometimes it was lonely in the city. Annie was the only person who you'd been able to connect with since you moved, and now that you weren't going to classes the friends you made in college didn't really understand what you were doing with your life.

And telling them "oh I hunt down supes for a living and sometimes kill them" didn't really sound like something you could say in passing. It also did wonders for your dating life… NOT.

"Sorry babe, I'm at the shop tomorrow. But I'm off at 3 if you want to get coffee after?" You hold open the front door of the apartment, looking back at her expectantly.

You hated blowing Annie off, especially since the two of you hadn't been able to hang out outside of missions mostly because she was spending all her time with Hughie.

"Sounds great!" She beams.

And with that you disappear out down the hallway and into the night.

*********************************************************

It's raining as you walk down the desolate streets. Cars splash water over the gum covered sidewalks that soaks through your tennis shoes and makes every step against the ground squish. But you ignore it.

You usually loved when it rained, loved to feel the cooling water pool against your skin, loved to hear the soft patter of it against the windows of your apartment, loved the earthy smell that came with the drops, but not tonight. You were still thinking about Soldier Boy.

You don't know why you let him get under your skin so much. You'd met men like him in the past and it was usually easy for you to brush them off, but not him.

I mean yes he is gorgeous, and maybe kind of charming when he's not trying to get into my pants, but I don't want just a one night fling. I want what Annie and Hughie have.

You think about your best friend and her loving boyfriend. You tried not to be jealous, but it was hard when the last time you had a lasting relationship was your first boyfriend back in high school who, when he found out you were a supe, was only interested if you had the power to shape shift into someone 'a little more busty.' The relationship ended with you locking him in a tree and the fire department having to come cut him out. He was fine, maybe a little more green than a normal person, but...

You'd heard that he got a job from the Green Giant Vegetable Company doing cameos as the Jolly Green Giant. So if anything, you helped him have a career?

Annie and Hughie were both head over heels in love with each other, knew everything about each other, didn't have any secrets, and it wasn't just sex, it was a close relationship with someone else who understood every part of you. You wanted that; and as much as you had avoided relationships in the past due to your supe status, you still hoped to find a supe that was kind and didn't think that they were a god for what they could do.

Why do so many have a god complex?

You think again about Soldier Boy. That wasn't the first time he had tried to coax you into bed and it wouldn't be the last, that was for sure. At first you had hoped that he would give up, it had been a month since you'd met, but he was still going strong, despite having a different woman in that apartment almost every night.

Maybe he's just really horny after being trapped in a lab all these years. Then again- You remember all the articles you read about him from the 80s, the ones that recorded his numerous escapades and think about his founding of Herogasm.

Maybe he's always like that, but he never comes on to Annie or Kimiko, only me. And I've threatened castration multiple times. You'd think he would care more about that than anything else.

You consider with a frown, clutching your jacket tighter around you. Rain trickled down from your hair and under the collar of your jacket to soak into your t-shirt. Your once light blue jeans were soaked to a dark navy with the amount of water that splashed up from the road and dripped down your back. For the first time in forever, you wished that it wasn't raining.

Probably should have just gotten a cab, but it's so expensive and-

"Hey baby." Someone calls from behind you.

Can't I just walk home without being hit on? One time?

"Not interested." You shout back, continuing to squish down the cracked sidewalks.

Three shadows peel off the wall of shops to your left blocking your path forward. Each is wearing a dark colored hoodie hiding their faces from view.

Is my luck really this bad? I never hear about Annie getting mugged or Hughie. And Hughie definitely looks wimpier than me.

"Don't be like that baby." The man behind you says.

You half turn your body so you can see all your supposed attackers at once. There are actually two men behind you, both wearing similar hoodies to the three now standing on your right.

Oh look they color coordinated their outfits… cute.

The man opens his mouth again.

"I'm gonna stop you right there." You hold up a finger. "I've been dealing with a horny 104 year old geriatric man all day long. Please don't push me right now." It was an attempt to warn them, but you knew they probably wouldn’t listen to you.

No one ever does.

"Sounds like you need someone to relax with." The man smirks steeping forward to grab your arm. "I'd be happy to ease some of that tension baby."

"Look. I'm going to give you a chance to walk away. To avoid making one of the biggest mistakes of your life. Because honestly you all have the worst luck in the world." You jerk your arm away from him.

"I like em feisty.” He purrs stepping forward again while the others laugh. “Come on baby-“

He doesn't get to finish his sentence. You grab him around the throat, lifting him in the air like he weighs nothing, your eyes beginning to glow a brilliant green.

“I did try to warn you.”

"She's a supe!" He shouts struggling against your grip.

You throw him backwards into the other man standing to your right before facing the men on your left. Each one has pulled out a knife preparing to rush towards you.

"I get it. Y’all are out late, you bought matching outfits, but do we really have to-“

The first one rushes you, waving his knife through the air in a frantic dance. He doesn't get the chance to make contact with your arm. Vines erupt out of the pavement, breaking through the cracks in the concrete, binding themselves around the man who lets out a savage cry, quickly silenced while the vines continue to wrap around his body until there's nothing left but a mass of struggling green foliage on the pavement and some muffled screams.

He's lucky, could have had him dragged back under ground.

His friends stand there for a moment, eyeing one another as if they're not sure what just happened. You can practically see them trying to decide if you're still worth the trouble.

“Anyone else?”

The battle that follows is swift, the sound of cracking bones and the soft thud of punches landing echo over the soft patter of rain in the night as you dodge their blows and land your own against them. The vines continue to spread outward snatching up the men who fall to the ground in front of you, dragging each one up the street light above that sends yellowed light over the desolate streets. By now each bound body hangs from above like a sack of meat in a meat cooler, moving with the struggling men inside while the muffled cries shatter the still silence of the night.

Sometimes it's really too easy.

And as you begin to turn back someone grabs you by the hair, yanking you into their sweaty embrace. The leader's hot breath sticks to your cheeks, the cool metal of his switchblade pressing down so hard on your throat that you feel the pinprick of blood begin to form under the tip.

“What are you gonna do now bitch?” He snarls in your ear.

"Give you one more chance to surrender." You spit.

Like I'm going to give him the satisfaction of me begging for my life.

"I'm gonna enjoy this-" The man begins to say, pressing the knife deeper into your throat, but the rest of his sentence is cut off with a strangled cry as he's pulled away from you.

What the hell just-

You turn around, freezing in shock.

Soldier Boy is crouching there in his t-shirt, jacket, and jeans over the man who just had a knife to your throat. His fist rising and falling as he punches the man in the face.

"Don’t you ever touch her." Soldier Boy snarls. His fist is already covered in blood, the man’s face a mass of bloodied tissue and bone.

"Stop you're going to kill him-" You run forward to stop Soldier Boy, but he doesn't stop even when you try to grab on to his hand.

"I said STOP." You shout louder, this time manipulating a vine to wrap around Soldier Boy's arm and restrain it.

Fuck he might already be dead.

"Let me go." Soldier Boy's eyes narrow. The usual green was replaced by a darkened pit with his rage. You'd only ever seen him this mad a handful of times, one of which was when the supe tried to zap you like a fly in one of those insect traps two days ago.

Why is he angry?

"I'm not going to let you go, until you promise not to kill him."

"I should." He snarls back at you.

"What are you talking about?"

He stands from the body, eyeing the last attacker who runs full speed down the sidewalk and vanishes into the darkness. "I should kill him for trying to hurt you." Soldier Boy says simply.

You wave your hand allowing the vine to let go of his arm. "Where do you come off so high and mighty? You literally tried to kill me last month."

"That was before I-" He shakes his head angrily, eyes still blazing.

"Look I don't need you to protect me. Given what I've had to deal with all day I was looking forward to kicking some ass."

"You did." He smirks nodding his head in the direction of the men hanging from the streetlamp above you. “I just thought that you were outnumbered.”

"Why are you here?" You sigh pinching the bridge of your nose.

"I wanted to go for a stroll." Soldier Boy shrugs. He flexes his hand, before wiping the blood on the front of the sweatshirt of the man on the ground.

"Uh-huh. Well I don't need you to protect me." You say again, crossing your arms over your chest. "I had this handled."

"You sure doll?"

"Look I get it- you think that you're some knight in shining armor because you have this macho complex. But I'm fine on my own." You begin to step around the bodies of the men on the ground moving in the direction of your apartment, but Soldier Boy follows you.

"Where do you think you're going?" You turn to look at where he falls into step beside you.

"You shouldn't be walking home alone."

"Well you're sure as hell not going home with me."

His lip turns up in a smirk, towering over you. Soldier Boy is easily a foot taller than you, so broad that it's impossible to look past his imposing figure. It would be attractive if he wasn't so damn annoying. "Come on sweetheart, I know you want me to go home with you." He purrs with a smile. "I think you'd really enjoy it if I did. And I'll even let you tie me up with those pretty vines of yours." Ben leans in towards your face and you take a step back.

"Hard pass. So what? Is this your big move? Acting all chivalrous just to get a woman into bed with you?"

"That depends, is it working?"

"No. Now go back to the apartment, before I send you there in pieces." You turn back to squish down the sidewalk at a faster pace, hoping he will get a hint and leave you alone. But you knew he wouldn’t stop. He practically thrived on teasing you, had been the bane of your existence since you met him. And nothing seemed to dissuade him.

"What is your problem with me?" He jogs to catch up. "And don't say that it's because I tried to kill you, that was last month-"

"I think that's applicable to this week and the week after that and the week after that." You count out with every finger to further emphasize your point, but you know that Soldier Boy won't give up that easy.

"Are you always this fucking angry?" He almost laughs.

"I don’t know. Are you always this fucking annoying?" You turn to face him narrowing your eyes.

Soldier Boy chuckles at your look, running a hand through his hair that has darkened in the spray of water, his green eyes watching you curiously. They were shinning now, not the blacked pits of hate they were when he was beating the guy two minutes ago. For a second, just for a second, you see how handsome he is all over again.

"Come on, give me a real answer and I'll leave you alone." He's smiling at you now, giving you one of those boyish grins that, if it were anyone else, would make your heart stop.

He just wants sex. He doesn't care about you. He won't ever care about you. Breathe.

"Fine." You sigh. "You might say you're a supe, but you're not a hero. People like you and Homelander, you don't care about anyone but yourself. You use your powers for you and on your own terms. You were going to kill that guy-" You gesture back towards where the body is still on the ground, the man's heart beat is dangerously low.

"He was threatening you. A thank you might be nice." Soldier Boy's cheeks flush as he glares down at you with darkened eyes, his anger surging back in his chest.

"Yes he was threatening me, but I'm okay and you could have just taken him to jail. You didn't have to beat his face in."

"So you're saying if he had been attacking someone else you wouldn't have done the same?"

"I would have subdued him and then waited for the police to get there. The men hanging from the streetlight aren't dead. We aren't the law-"

"Right so those guys can get off with a warning and then go on and do the same thing over and over again." He scoffs rolling his eyes at you.

"It doesn't give you the right to kill them."

"I suppose you don't believe in the death penalty either."

"I believe in the death penalty Gramps. I just don't believe it is our job to carry it out." Your temper was flaring against your skin distracting you from the chill of the rain as it soaked into your clothes.

"Do you have any idea how many women would love to be saved by me?" Soldier Boy asks. He shakes his head as if he can't understand you.

You didn't blame him, most people didn't, that was why you spent most of your time alone.

"I'm not one of them. So leave me alone." You turn to go.

Honestly, why is this the kind of guy I attract? You roll your eyes to yourself. Oh you mean, tall, dark, handsome, gorgeous- The other little voice in your head whispers in your ear. NO. You tell yourself. Please I just want one guy who's not a total dick. Why is that so hard?

"I still don't think it's a good answer." He huffs.

"Of course you don't." You roll your eyes and begin to walk again. The streetlamps above send an eerie yellow glow over the parked cars along the road and over the crackled pavement. If Soldier Boy wasn't here bothering you, you might have stopped to admire the water as it splashed underneath the suspension bridge beyond the crowded buildings, but you wanted to get home. Without him if possible.

You glance over at Soldier Boy again. He looks normal right now, always does when he's not wearing his suit. And when he shut up you could see why people were so in love with him. It was when he opened his mouth that it reminded you exactly why you didn't like him.

You stop in front of your apartment building and force yourself to smile. "Thank you for walking me home." You say through tight lips, hoping that the false sincerity will make him leave.

He gazes up at your building with a frown. "This is a pretty shitty apartment building."

"Thank you. Not all of us inherited millions of dollars from our parents."

He pauses for a moment continuing to look up at the building, before he sighs loudly. "Look, I-." He sighs again. "I can't take listening to Annie and Hughie fucking. They go at it every night and she always makes the power go off."

You knew that already. It was another reason why you didn't like staying at the apartment, because listening to your best friend get railed by her boyfriend was not your idea of a good time.

You look up at Ben, and for a second you see a glimmer of the truth, just a flash of something that wasn't like the misogynistic attitude he usually had and it made you pause. He almost looked, sad and it made you feel bad for him. Of course you felt bad for him before, when you found out his entire team just gave him away to be experimented on and when probably the woman that he'd come the closest to loving really didn't care about him at all.

It must be incredibly lonely to come back to a world where almost everyone you know is dead. Guilt builds in your chest at the thought. I had lost my fair share of people, but not everyone in my life and I certainly didn’t learn about it on the same day.

"You know I think that's the first honest thing you've ever said to me." You say quietly shifting from foot to foot.

He half-smiles. "Maybe."

You chew on the inside of your cheek considering. You weren't afraid of him. You knew that with your powers you could take him. You were stronger than most and harder to kill. And despite the bad things you thought about him and knew about him, you kinda thought he was relatively harmless, well, you didn't think he was a rapist.

"Fine. But you're staying on the couch. And if I wake up and you're anywhere near my bedroom, I'll castrate you." You warn as walk up to the front doors and type in the code to unlock them, with Soldier Boy following behind you.

When you make it to the third floor, you raise one hand to stop him from going any further. It falls against his muscular chest and you fail trying not to admire how it feels beneath your hand.

Why am I so thirsty?

"If you wanted to grab my chest doll, all you had to do was ask-" Soldier Boy begins to say, but you raise the hand to cover his mouth.

"Shh." You hiss. "We have to be quiet or Mike will come out-"

"Who?" He asks, muffled against your hand.

You hear a door down the hallway creak open, spilling yellowed light onto the dark blue carpet of the hallway. "Shit. Too late."

Mike steps out of his apartment with a wide smile as soon as he sees you. "HEY y/n!" He crows, waving his free hand enthusiastically. "I didn't know you were getting in so late, but I wanted to give you this." Mike holds out a giant casserole dish filled with something that you can't identify. It's multi colored with multiple layers, one of which looks suspiciously like rice and the next layer looks like cake.

There's no way I'm eating that. Maybe if I force feed it to Soldier Boy he'll leave me alone.

Mike was your neighbor, your neighbor who had lived next door to you for the past 2 years and was shamelessly in love with you. And as sweet as he was, there were a few things that you couldn't get past, most namely that he lived with his mother and that he had a mullet.

One time you'd had a nightmare about it ripping itself from his head, breaking in to your apartment, and smothering you in your sleep.

Not fun.

"Hey Mike." You smile tightly at him, dropping your hand from Soldier Boy's mouth. "Yeah I'm sorry I was out with some friends."

"You should have asked me to come! I love your friends." Mike smiles so wide you're afraid that it's going to break his face. “Especially Butcher. He’s so funny. Always joking-"

Poor Mike.

Every time that Butcher had come over to talk shop, he would mock Mike endlessly. And Mike was just too sweet to realize it. Hughie was the only one who actively tried to be nice to Mike, but even he found it difficult. Annie was the worst though, she'd tease you constantly about what your children would look like and had taken to photoshopping mullets onto pictures of babies and sending them to you at inopportune times.

"Maybe next time." You cough out an awkward laugh while Soldier Boy snorts behind you.

You continue down the hallway towards your apartment, the door next to his, and hope that he'll go back into his home, but no such luck.

“My mom made this for you!” He holds the dish out towards you.

“Oh um that’s so nice of her. But I can’t except that-“

Mike's mother comes to stand in the doorway of their shared apartment. She was wearing a bright purple Mumu, her makeup caked thickly on her face and her eyes accentuated with bright blue eye shadow. “Sure you can sweetie. You’re Mike’s special friend.” She winks before trailing her eyes up and down your body. “And you’ve got such a cute little figure.” His mother does a little shimmy as if trying to get you to do the same.

Kill me now.

“That’s what I keep telling her.” Soldier Boy purrs behind you.

“Don’t make me kill you.” You mutter back, knowing full well he can hear you with his super-hearing.

Oddly enough Mike does look suspiciously like his mother, they are both the same height, exactly three inches under you, and have the same mullet, but hers is a shocking blue-gray and his is jet black.

He blushes at her words. “Aww mom.”

Soldier Boy muffles a laugh before disguising it into a cough. You elbow him hard in the stomach.

“Well thank you.” You take the casserole dish with one hand, hoping that you can open the door and usher Soldier Boy in before he makes a comment. "I've had a long day and it's really late-"

“I helped her make this one.” Mike interrupts scooting closer to you, so close that you get a lungful of his terrible cologne, the one that the super sells for four dollars and smells like baby powder and Cheez-its.

“A man who can do it all.” Soldier Boy whispers to you.

Mike looks above your head as if noticing Soldier Boy for the first time. “Who’s that? I thought I knew all your friends.”

“He’s certainly very handsome-“ Mike's mother blushes from the doorway.

“Your brother?” Mike offers.

You can see his expression turn hopeful.

Probably thinking about how he can become friends with "said brother" and that will escalate our "relationship."

“I’m Ben.” Soldier Boy says, stepping around you to shake Mike’s hand. “I’m y/n's boyfriend.”

Your cheeks bloom a bright pink, unable to respond to the ridiculous statement that he just made.

Murder. That's what sounds good right now.

“Oh.” Mike’s face falls. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.” His eyes flick back to you, disappointment swimming in the irises.

You watch Mike’s hope begin to circle the drain.

“Well actually-“ You begin, but Soldier Boy interrupts you.

“Sorry I’ve been out of town for a while. We've been trying to do this long distance thing- you know how it is, late night phone calls-“ Ben trails off with a wolfish grin before dropping an arm around your shoulders. “But I just couldn’t take the long distance. Missed her too much. Phone call isn’t the same as sleeping in the same bed. Definitely not as satisfying. Not to mention there’s only so much my hand can do.”

Your cheeks bloom an even brighter red at his insinuation. That’s when Soldier Boy does something even more unforgivable, he pulls you tighter against him and kisses you right there in front of Mike and his mother. The kiss is searing, making everything in your mind go blissfully blank. It had been so long since someone kissed you, since someone had held you this close to them without trying to kill you. His tongue teases your bottom lip and before you can stop yourself you open your mouth wider to let him in sighing softly against his lips, while you grip the front of his jacket.

For a moment you can’t remember why you didn’t want him to kiss you, why you denied yourself of this for so long. And then Soldier Boy's hand slides from your back to grab a handful of your ass.

Right.

You slap him so hard across the face that you're sure it would have broken the cheekbone of anyone who wasn’t a supe.

But Soldier Boy only grins wider, squeezing your butt again. “She knows that I like it a little rough.” He turns his lazy gaze back to Mike.

You open your mouth to cuss him out.

“Well we should probably get going.” Soldier Boy breezes. “Probably going to be a long night. If you know what I mean. But we’ll try to keep it down. Then again my girl's a little loud.” He winks at your poor neighbor who looks like he might cry, while his mother stands behind him fanning herself like Soldier Boy is everything she wants in a man.

He's ten for ten with the older ladies I'll say that.

“Oh right. Well I guess I’ll see you around y/n.” Mike turns to go.

“Mike wait-“ You try to say but he’s already vanishing through the door.

“Nice to meet you Mark.” Soldier Boy calls at his retreating figure, getting his name wrong on purpose.

You don’t even use your key to open the door you're so mad, the plants inside let you in. As soon as it opens, you haul Soldier Boy by the front of his jacket through the doorway and pin him to the wall just inside.

The casserole dish lands on your counter and by some miracle doesn’t break.

“What the hell is your problem?” Your hand is fisted in the front of his shirt, eyes blazing with anger and embarrassment.

He only grins. “You didn’t want me to play along? Sounded like that guy had been trying to get into your pants for a while. Unless he already has been or you want him to?"

You flush a deeper shade of crimson. "That is absolutely none of your business!"

“Well if we’re going to be living together doll, I’m pretty sure it is my business.”

“WE AREN'T LIVING TOGETHER I'M JUST LETTING YOU CRASH ON THE COUCH TONIGHT AND THEN YOU'RE GONE.” You shout.

“I think you’re gonna get pretty attached to me sleeping here. Maybe even you let me sleep in your bed and even fu-“

You knock him back against the wall again. “If you finish that sentence I’m going to throw you out the window.”

“If you keep knocking me around, Mike's going to think you’re into some pretty kinky stuff.” Soldier Boy smirks down at you. “It’s actually turning me on a bit. Is it turning you on?”

“I don’t have to let you stay here.” You growl, releasing him.

“I think it’s because you like me.” He teases.

“I don’t.” You frown grows. “Okay couch is there goodnight.”

You point in the direction of the worn leather couch. You'd hauled it up three flights of stairs with Annie when you first moved in after you found a guy online selling it for nothing. And when you showed up to get it, he presumed to say it would be free if you let him take a picture of your feet. And after, when he had a black eye and a fun story to tell his wife, he gave you the couch for nothing as promised.

“No kiss goodnight?” Soldier Boy pouts his lips innocently.

“You already had one of those.” You snap thinking about slapping him again and trying hard not to think about how much you wanted to kiss him again.

Get a grip.

“Right. You liked it.”

“No I didn’t. And the next time you shove your tongue into my mouth I’ll bite it off.”

“You’re really violent for such a little thing.” Soldier Boy eyes you up and down as if sizing you up.

“And you’re really dick-like for someone who’s supposed to have the wisdom of the ages.” You turn towards the hallway intent on going to bed to avoid any more conversation with him.

"Whoa." You hear Soldier Boy say as he looks into your living room.

It was the reaction that everyone had when they entered your apartment. You had a small one bedroom apartment on the third floor of a building that you believed might be older than Soldier Boy. The kitchen and living room was mostly one room, the kitchen to the left with outdated appliances and a small circular wooden table with three chairs that served as your kitchen table and desk, and was separated by the large leather aforementioned couch that faced the wall that held two large windows. Beyond the front door was a small hallway that held the only bathroom in the apartment and your bedroom.

But that's not what was surprising.

Every open space in your apartment was covered in plants. There wasn't a single piece of unused space in your apartment. There were large standing monstera and fiddle leaf figs shoved into every corner and pots of dark green pothos bolted into the walls trailing vines to the ground so that every wall looked alive. Jasmine crept along the wall behind the tv that sat on an antique credenza between the two windows, sending the bright scent into the living room.

There was a large rectangular box bolted in the space above your sink where herbs and tomatoes hung down, probably a fire hazard, but you didn't care. The vibrant smell of mint, the spicy smell of rosemary, and soft tones of oregano and basil fused the air in your apartment with a life force that was impossible to ignore.

A large apple tree grew in a pot as big around as you next to the couch, with brilliant red apples hanging from it's branches, while a lemon tree and a tangerine tree intertwined their branches just behind the kitchen table. The refrigerator, once white, was covered in the tangled vines of blackberry and raspberry, hanging with full fruit, while a potted strawberry plant sits prettily on top of the kitchen table, the bright red fruit enticing.

It was a lot. You knew it was a lot, but helping plants grow was the only thing you were good at, the only thing that felt right. One day you hoped that you could move somewhere and open a farmers market, but today you were stuck here, with Soldier Boy, who probably thought that you were crazy.

"I mean. I knew you had plant powers but this is-" He begins to say.

"A lot. I know." You roll your eyes. "The bathroom is down the hall." You gesture with your free hand towards the darkened hallway. "I guess I'll get you a pillow."

Ben is still looking around the room dumbfounded, as if he's never seen anything like this in his life, and he probably hasn't.

He's been in a Russian Lab for the past forty years, I mean he's probably not used to seeing anything this green.

You find the extra pillow in the linen closet along with one of the crocheted granny square blankets you made last year when Annie and you had a Jaws movie marathon, and a towel, before you move back into the living room.

Ben is still standing awkwardly by the couch as if he's not sure what to do, and it's the first time you've seen him look lost.

"Here." You throw him the pillow and the towel before you drape the blanket over the back of the couch. "One night."

"Why are you working for Butcher?"

"What?" The question catches you off guard. You were expecting him to make another pass at you, maybe check you out again. He was looking at you, but it was different, his gaze was softer, curious.

"You don't seem like you-" He gestures around the room. "Like you fit."

You blink for a second. "Um."

"I mean Annie used to be one of the Seven, Hughie does whatever the fuck Butcher tells him, but you you're different." His brow furrows together as if he can't figure you out.

"I really don't want to do this with you."

"This?" He looks confused again.

"Opening up with one another. You're here for one night. That's it." You force yourself to say, but the reality was you were still surprised, surprised that he actually seemed to care.

Stop. He's changing tactics because nothing else worked. He's pretending to care about you because he still wants to sleep with you.

"Please."

You can't answer for a second. It was the first time that he'd said that word in front of you before, or acted this way. It was also the first time that it had just been the two of you, before Butcher had been there or Frenchie or Annie and Hughie, but this was the first time that the two of you had been left alone.

Maybe that's why?

You hesitate before you answer, he was the last person you really wanted to open up to.

"I don't know, it's not all that bad." You shrug. "Before I didn't really use my powers all that much except like this." You gesture around the room for emphasis. "And when I went to college everyone was so serious about their futures and I didn't really like any of the classes. The only thing I enjoyed was using my powers at Please Don’t Die, the plant store I work at. And then Annie asked me to come help her out-" You bite your cheek. "She's my best friend and maybe I wanted to spend more time with her."

"But is it what you really want?" He cocks his head to the side, holding the pillow in one hand and the towel in the other.

You'd never seen him look so calm before, relaxed, like being here with you was washing away any anger or frustration he still had about the past. It was confusing, and at the same time you could feel your heart beginning to betray you. It was hard not to fall for him when he looked so good, eyes soft, dark hair falling into his eyes, clothes still dripping rain on your hardwood floors.

No. I will not fall in love with him, I will not fall in love with-

"Goodnight Soldier Boy. I'll see you in the morning." You turn to go, ignoring his final question.

"You can call me Ben." He almost whispers it, the sound of his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down your spine.

"What?" You look back at him.

"You never call me Ben. But you can, if you want." He shrugs his shoulders, before he shakes his head as if he's annoyed with himself for suggesting it. "Never mind, just fucking forget about it-"

"Goodnight Ben." You feel the end of your mouth twitch up into a smile and with that you disappear into your bedroom, locking the door behind you.

And deep down you know that it's not to keep him out, but to keep you in.

********************************************************

As always, thank you so much for reading!

If you liked this story be sure to read my follow up fic that takes place in the future:

Open Mic Night!

Or if you'd like to read another series please try:

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love!

A/N: I know it's crazy to start another series right now, but I'm kinda feeling this reader and Ben together? What do y'all think about it?

A/N: Update I've made a huge mistake and started another series.

If you'd like to be added to the taglist please let me know!

(Photos for series picture from Pinterest)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy #soldier boy x you #hughie campbell #jensen ackles soldier boy #billy butcher #soldier boy/ben #jensen ackles #the boys fanfic #the boys amazon #jackles #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy fic #the boys fanfiction #annie january

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the-monstermash · 23 days

Text

UNBROKEN BETROTHALS pt. 3

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Synopsis: After running away from an unwanted proposal, you find yourself working in a brothel as a cook. When a certain guest takes an odd liking to you, secrets are revealed and betrothals unbroken

Warnings: Angst, Brothels, Mature, 18+, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language

Word Count: 2, 031

> A/N: Catch the corny tie-in at the end of the chapter. I think maybe one more chapter will wrap up this story.

You were in a bout of disbelief. You'd not left your room in days, taking your meals and guests in the rooms. Sylvi was obviously angry with you, because she’d said nothing about you not cooking. She likely had already hired a new cook to replace you, no doubt planning to kick you out the moment you stepped outside again. Where would you go? Back to the Riverlands was always an option, but you were afraid of what you might find if you returned.

How could you not be? Your entire life you had thought of your parents as betrayers. You'd thought they'd wished to sell you off to some disgusting man, to rid themselves of the burden of you. In reality, what choice had they truly had? To reject the king would be dishonorable, not to mention impossible. They would’ve had to respond immediately, to agree in your stead.

How could you ever think so lowly of them? They'd given you so much love in your youth, how would they ever do something so cruel if they'd had the choice not to? Were they heartbroken at the loss of a daughter? Did they think you dead? Or did they accept that you just didn't want to be with them anymore, and you'd left for a better life. Were they still looking for you? You didn't know which was worse.

And then there was Aemond.

Why had he cared so much? You were of no great house, and your marriage would be of no benefit to him. Your running away should've been to his relief, not his anger. Then, for him to track you down, and push his intentions on you. What was the purpose?

The knock on the door did not make you rise from the bed as it would've a week ago, and you did not call to the visitor like you would've a week ago. Instead, you waited for whoever it was to either let themselves in, or go away. You'd be happy with either one.

The creak of the solid door told you they'd chosen the former.

"Are you awake?" Lauryn's voice pulled a sigh from you.

She'd come with more questions, or to gossip about what was happening outside of your room.

"If I was not before, your presence has brought me a sense of invigoration." You smiled sadly, patting the bed for her to enter.

She stepped inside the room, but did not cross the distance. Her absence in the door frame was filled with another. A much taller, blonder, guest, that put much more dread in you than she had.

"Lauryn, what is this?" You sat up, crossing your arms and pulling the blankets up to cover your nightclothes. He stepped into the center of the room, hands behind his back, looking around to take in the sight.

"He's demanded to see you." We can not deny him, is what she said with her eyes. You nodded at her and she quickly fled the room, closing the door behind her.

The silence was not comfortable, nor was it unwelcome. You knew if he spoke, it would be about the betrothal, and that would make you think of your family, and you would be back to worrying for your dear family and how they were fairing. You felt so vulnerable, wrapped up in your blankets and nightclothes before him, all alone.

"My prince, you wanted to see me?" You propped your knees to your chest, sure you looked like a big pile of sheets with a head on top to him.

"I wanted to see you were well." He finally took his eyes off your meager decorations, and looked at you. "Have you had any more spells?" You shook your head.

"I'm quite well."

"And have you thought any more of my words?" You sighed, exasperated, but relenting to the fact that he simply would not let this go.

"Of course I have. It's all I've thought about, holed up in this room. That, and where I'll go once Sylvi casts me from my home. Because of you." You wanted to yell, but you just did not have the energy.

"Me?"

"If you'd just accepted my answer, she would have gotten past it. But you pursued, and chased, and you would not relent."

"I'd relented the first time you rejected me, how many rejections did you expect I would take?"

"Relenting would've been leaving me be, not seeking me out here when you knew I was content."

"I did not come here for you, you happened to be here." You rolled your eyes.

"I *happened* to be in a kitchen, hidden away from everyone where *you* found me in search of 'wine’? There was wine everywhere up front, it is a whore house! You knew I was here, and you found me, because you could not accept the rejection. You sought me out, you said so yourself." He blanched at you repeating his words to him. Perhaps he thought you did not remember your last conversation.

"So I sought you out. What is the crime in it? You were my betrothed, and I would not have you running about the world any longer. I demand to know why you rejected me so long ago, and why you reject me now. I am more than suitable for you, and you should have been proud to serv-"

"I did not know it was you!" You silenced him with your yell. "I did not run away from marrying you, I ran away...because I thought my parents were to send me off to some gray man I did not know, and force me to wed him, and I would spend my whole life with some old Lord who did not love me, and I would never live! I was a child, and I was afraid, Aemond."

He was silent for a moment, before sighing and coming to sit at the edge of your bed.

"And why do you refuse me now?"

"I guess I thought if I married you, then I might as well have married the first man. It would've saved me a lot of trouble, and made my family proud, at the very least." He nodded at that and looked away. "Why do you want me so badly?"

He tilted his head, thinking for a second before shrugging his shoulders. You scoffed at that and stretched your legs to leave room for your crossed arms, not believing that he was just pointlessly pursuing you.

"I've had enough rejection for one lifetime. I'll not have any more." It was a simple answer, and given the past you knew of him, you supposed it made sense. He'd been refused a dragon, friends, a father, a crown. You could see how when you, a simple girl from nowhere, rejected him, it might have confounded him, and tipped him over the edge. He seemed deep in thought, or perhaps deep in memory, and before your eyes you saw him regress into the young boy he'd been, when all he knew was hurt and rejection.

In a way, you pitied Aemond. He had led a sad life, but he'd also led a privileged life. and that privileged life often made people overlook the hurt he'd faced as a child. He was a prince, and that made him revered and respected in many aspects, but he was also a scared, hurt little boy, with no respect from his peers and no one to truly turn to.

"I suppose I can understand that." He turned to you, his lips turning up in acknowledgement before he gently laid his head in your lap.

It surprised you, though it shouldn't have. He was desperate for appreciation and affection. That was why he was here, after all, begging you to reconsider marriage to him.

You had reconsidered it over these past few days. You'd thought it over in a hundred different ways, and truthfully, without the added angst of your parental situation, you really had no reason to say no to his proposal. He was a perfectly respectable husband, and with his doting nature, you'd thought he'd treat you quite well. You could see yourself content with him, if not happy.

"I suppose marriage wouldn't be so bad if my husband were agreeable." You gently found yourself petting his hair, making him close his eye.

"Hm." Was his simple answer, a hum of content, yet it prompted you to elaborate.

"He would have to be kind, of course. And perhaps handsome, though not superficial. I would like him to be strong, and brave. Though, not to the point of recklessness. Perhaps a Stark." You looked down at him with a playful smile, and he responded with a chortle. "You're right, I do hate the cold." You scratched at his scalp.

"You'll make an exceptional wife, and I'll make you happy." He turned onto his back so he was looking up at you, his soft eyes gazing up at you.

He truly was beautiful. His features were in total opposition, his long, soft hair, sharp jaw, and sweet eyes all combined to make a statuesque deity laid before you. His hair was almost pearlescent in the way the fire flickered across him, changing the hues in a second, and blending in oranges and reds and magnificent yellows.

You could not think of a way to tell him you were conceding, and he'd finally won. You just smiled down at him and nodded.

"I need to see my parents." Your voice broke at the mere idea, and he nodded immediately, sitting up and turning to hold your face.

"I'll see it's done. We'll call them to King's Landing."

"Thank you, Aemond.”

He tilted himself just slightly, enough for you to understand what he was asking for. You leaned in enough to meet your lips to his in a soft and gentle kiss. You rest your hand on his jaw, and the other on his chest. He pushed himself against you more to deepen the kiss, pushing you back onto your hands.

His kiss was desperate, and held an air of pure satisfaction. It was not overly rushed, but deep and passionate. You could feel him pour his soul into it, like a beautiful piece of poetry. Every suckle was a sonnet, every sigh a sestina. He pulled your body to his, and it was a haiku, consisting of syllables only spoken in physical language. And you hung onto every single word.

You pulled away for air, but he didn't let you get far, holding his hand to the back of your head, your forehead pressed against his. Your bodies still moved in sync, rising and falling with breath, slowly calming yourselves back down.

"We'll marry as soon as your parents arrive. The very same day."

"Shouldn't you ask the king? I’m sure your family won’t relish the thought of a prince marrying a common cook. You could marry at a much higher advantage for the war."

"There is nothing common about you. And besides, my father already approved the marriage all those years ago. My brother won't deny me." You nodded.

"I'll see you again? Before the wedding? Promise you'll come see me." He raised his eyebrow at that, clearly confused about something you'd said.

"You're coming to the castle with me, are you not, my Lady?" The title made you chew your lip, you had not heard it in a very long time. “I’ll not have my wife sleep in a brothel any longer, I’ve suffered it long enough.”

“This brothel is my home, and you’ve had no trouble turning in a night or two if I remember correctly. Besides, I wouldn’t want to offend your family by assuming I was welcome. You should confirm the betrothal first with the king.” He sighed and turned away, but came up with no argument.

“I’ll be back for you, in a week’s time-at most. Say your goodbyes, pack your things. Prepare to be a princess of the seven kingdoms.” He stood and leaned for one last kiss.

“I’ll be waiting, my prince.”

And with one more lasting stroke of your cheek, he left to unbreak the betrothal you’d abandoned so long ago.

@mamawiggers1980 @dahlias-and-marigolds @starrflowerr @aemondwhoresworld

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen smut #unbroken betrothals

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linddzz · 9 months

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Latest idea floating around in my head: a twist on the Hob saving Morpheus from the time-out ball, except that's where they first met each other.

Hob's still immortal, it's just that Death was the one who came and gave him the deal of meeting every 100 years

(is this also bc I'd love Death being Hob's centennial buddy? Her being way less reserved and straight up telling him who she is. Her delight at his delighting over life. The rage in him when Eleanor and Robyn die. Death took them and she wouldn't even say anything to him when she did it. Also I'd like to see him just immediately choke and squirm like a bastard as soon as he starts explaining his new shipping business to her in 1789. Yes and hell yes gimme Hobsie and Death as bros.)

So Hob is trying out new stuff again. He's never tried out being a magus and gets himself in as a member of Burgess' order and eventually an acolyte.

And then he's introduced to the "devil" that Burgess keeps in the dungeon. He's to help study up on strengthening the wards around the sphere and all that. And boy is he deeply, super uncomfortable with the sight of this frail man trapped in a cage.

("Don't let his pretty face fool you." Burgess will tell him, "the thing is a demon who would destroy us all if given half a chance."

To be fair, Morpheus does not help his case at all and his expression clearly says "you fuckin bet I will")

And Hob is Hob. So while he's working on studying up on wards (which so happens to involve a lot of careful, detailed study of the wards around the sphere) he's chatting at the thing in it. He complains about the boss, talks about the War, tells the demon about his day while the demon either glares at him or makes a hilariously big show of not paying attention. Sometimes Hob straight up shirks work (with a winking "you won't tell the boss right?") And just reads books.

And he nearly shrieks in surprise when he's reading some new novel called The Hobbit out loud and looks up to find the demon watching and obviously interested. So of course Hob is gonna keep reading him stories and keep studying those binding spells super closely.

And ok that's where I gotta admit the story doesn't have a solid conclusion in my head yet (besides obviously Hob is gonna bust Dream out and then get kissed a LOT) but I do have one bit where Morpheus first talks to him and of course it's just cryptic weird shit. Because Morpheus has started watching this shit-wizard who won't shut the fuck up back and can tell that something is OFF about him.

So just imagine Hob is yammering away about how he thinks the masters kid and the gardener have something going on, and he nearly shits himself when the "demon" presses a hand against the glass and says

"Death has touched you. I see it now. My siblings marks upon you. Is that what you are here for? To report to them? To let them see how low their family has come? So they do know what has come of me then, and they have sent you to chatter away and truly make it clear that they will do nothing."

Hob's just like. "WHAT?? SIBLINGS?! You TALK??! Hang on you know Death???!" But Morpheus already is back to curling in on himself in a furious pissy sulk

#dreamling #fic cooking #i imagine after Dreams outburst theres a lot more talking going on #idk if i have this fleshed out enough to fully write i just liked the idea of Hob reading Tolkien to the thing in the ball #and Morpheus being wooed with stories #the tension is ruined by me knowing that all it took was smearing the circle kdjfkd #maybe Hob purposely falls asleep to let Morpheus get out via his dreams

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shurisasthmaticgf · 2 months

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boyfriend enrichment activities: lando norris x black! fem reader

summary: you and your boyfriend spend a much needed day at the beach.

warnings: swearing

author's note: i thought of this after going to the beach and seeing a guy dig a hole in the sand for a solid four hours...so thanks to that guy for the inspo! as always feedback is highly encouraged and greatly appreciated.

a day at the beach was something that you'd been needing since the start of winter, and now that it was finally beach weather you couldn't wait to enjoy the sun with your boyfriend. the two of you had been working hard, lando was training hard as the season was in full swing while you were balancing your new job and travelling on weekends. although your job was much less physically demanding, you were still exhausted and in much need of a relaxation day.

you both spared a day between race weekends to run off to the beach for the first time in a long time. most times you'd plan everything down to the type of bottled water you'd bring in your cooler but this time you decided to forget the itinerary and just take a few things.

lando carried your oversized beach bag that brought an ache to his shoulder by the time you made it down to the water from the parking lot. meanwhile you carried along your favorite tiny cream colored Jacquemus bag that only fit a pack of tic tacs and a mini lip gloss. in one hand you held your phone and the other a small shovel and bucket set you'd gotten at a store right by the beach.

when the two of you finally found a good spot you laid down a outdoor blanket and your towels on top of it for a softer surface to lay on. you immediately began putting on sun cream, applying it liberally and rolling your eyes when it left a slight white cast against your brown skin. you didn't even have to ask before lando took the bottle and began rubbing the lotion onto your back, brushing your box braids away from your back first. when he was finished you did the same for him and just like that he was gone, running out to the water eagerly as the scorching hot sand burned the bottom of his feet.

you did enjoy the beach and as a kid you spent hours making sandcastles, finding seashells, swimming out to a sandbar for sea biscuits, or playing some ball game with your cousins on the sand during family vacations. however, today you just wanted to lay out and soak up the sun while watching your boyfriend frolic in the sea.

nearly half an hour passed before you felt fat drops of salt water fall onto your face. when you opened your eyes you saw your boyfriend's face mere inches from yours, his curls now dripping onto your skin. you pushed his face lightly with a laugh, "get your soggy ass away from me!" he shook his head and flung salt water onto you earning a screech followed by giggles. you passed him one of the towels from your bag and said, "here dry yourself with this." he wrapped it around himself and sat beside you, "the water is quite nice, it cooled the bottom of my feet after running out there." you hummed as you read the book you brought with you. lando simply watched you but you could tell he was itching to do something, he just didn't know what.

you watched as he eyed your beach bag then unclipped the claw clip from the side of it. he opened and closed it then smiled to himself before using it to sift through sand to find shells he thought you'd like. one by one he began lining them up on your thigh, but you didn't mind, he was in his own world while you were immersed in your book. eventually, gathering shells also grew boring and you'd dozed off with your book beside you and your beach hat covering your face. so, lando took to the sand once more but this time began digging a hole a few meters away from the spot you set up.

there was no telling how long you slept since you didn't know when you dozed off, but when you woke up lando wasn't beside you. grabbing your sunglasses you looked up from where you'd been laying and you nearly choked seeing the gigantic hole he dug in the sand. he noticed you staring at him and beamed, "look at the hole i dug." something about seeing him proud of this stupid sand hole he made just made you laugh even more so when you looked at the children's plastic shovel in his hand.

by the end of the day he was fast asleep and slightly snoring on his towel. you'd gotten him to take a walk with you to take pictures for social media and tried to show him how to balance rocks in a stack which he failed at miserably. the two of you also used the two buckets you had to try and see who could build the best sandcastle. you won with a quite impressive masterpiece but only because your boyfriend built his too close to the water and it got ruined by a large wave that ran right into it as he finished. however, the highlight of your day was finding a horseshoe crab and naming it Persephone then running over to show it to lando thinking he'd find it cool.

he did not find it cool.

he found it rather uncool.

so much so that he ran away screaming for you to put it down as you tried to bring it closer to him.

you smiled at the memory as you gazed at your sleeping boyfriend. after snapping a photo of his sleeping form you slowly you inched closer to him and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. lando's lip twitched into a sleepy smile and you placed a hand on his head, softly grazing his ear with your thumb. your shadow blocked his eyes from the sun as he slowly opened one and looked up to see you with your knees drawn to your chest, your face resting on your thighs. you shushed quietly and said, "go back to sleep, we don't have to leave yet." he let his eye fall back shut and you looked straight ahead at the sea. the turquoise expanse of the sea blurred into the sky's cerulean blue flecked with silvery clouds in the distance drew your attention with passing moments. you let out a soft sigh, smiling to yourself at how corny and cliche this moment seemed to be, yet it was all you needed after all this time. 𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆝⋆.˚ 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆞

callmeyn

liked by landonorris and 934,293 others

callmeyn my job is just...beach ⛱

view all 10,543 comments

alexandrasaintmleux pretty girl <3

⤷ callmeyn that's all you mama 🩵

⤷ charles_leclerc stop flirting with my girlfriend

⤷ callmeyn OUR girlfriend 😒🖐️

⤷ charles_leclerc i didn't agree to that-

⤷ alexandrasaintmleux too bad 😇

f1 it was all too much for little lando norris 🥺

⤷ callmeyn LMAOOOOO

username1 lando finding a horseshoe crab is so on brand 😭

⤷ callmeyn girl please i found Persephone and this man ran away from me yelling "no please!" when i picked her up and tried to show him 💀

mclaren why is my driver standing in a ditch? 🤨

⤷ callmeyn i woke up from a nap and there it was...him standing in it.

⤷ oscarpiastri i could dig a deeper one

⤷ alex_albon i could out dig both of you

⤷ maxverstappen1 i'd win hands down

lilymhe omg the little shells are so cute! 🤭

⤷ callmeyn ikr :(

username2 NEVER DIG STRAIGHT DOWN AT THE BEACH!

⤷ callmeyn don't worry pookie he knows, he just chose to do it anyways! 🥰

username1 stanley yelnats ahh 💀

⤷ callmeyn STANLEY YELNATS- you just unlocked a childhood memory omg

username3 why does my boyfriend do the same thing...

⤷ callmeyn ✨boyfriend enrichment activities✨

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆝⋆.˚ 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆞

landonorris

by callmeyn and 785,997 others

landonorris use protection

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mclaren ...p-pardon?

username4 WHAT IS THIS CAPTION 😭

username5 Y/N MARRY ME PLS I HAVE A MANSION AND MANY CARS 🙏

⤷ landonorris so do i, try again

⤷ username5 i'm not afraid of horseshoe crabs😈

⤷ username6 HELP HE BLOCKED ME AND I HAD TO MAKE A NEW ACCOUNT 😭😭😭

⤷ callmeyn UNBLOCK HER RIGHT NOW @/landonorris

oscarpiastri you do know you have the option to leave captions empty right 😐

⤷ landonorris i'm advising the public to use sun cream?

danielriccardo wait that's a nice ass sandcastle-

⤷ landonorris why thank you

⤷ callmeyn i'll let you have it since yours got washed away by the ocean at the last second 😁

⤷ f1 oh this is awkward...

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆝⋆.˚ 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆞

the end.

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edgeray · 3 months

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Hello 🍉anon again, hope you’re doing okay and I hope my writing is not atrocious for this request. This idea has been on my mind for an Arlecchino x dragon reader(similar to Neuvillette). So, Arlecchino receive a report from her operatives that an unknown creature is lurking in the shadow near Poisson, that keeps on attacking the others fatui members and stealing their rations. She tells them that she will look into it eventually as she doesn’t want their ressources to be stolen. She starts to investigate to gather information on this creature and possibly locate it and by a twisted turn of fate, stumbles into a dragon(secretly the reader)that look awfully hurt and almost on the verge of dying. Arlecchino took pity on the rather tiny looking dragon (tought it seems to be an adult one) and brought them to the house of the heart to treat their wounds.

As the times pass and Arlecchino started to grow fond of the dragon, she see in the corner of the room, a human. Visibly confused, she starts to draw her scythe ready to impale the person in front of her should they pose a threat. Then the reader just go up to her and nuzzle into her as if it was the most natural thing in the world and it was at this moment that she realized it was the dragon she had rescued. They start to bond and eventually grow more intimate with each others.

My Little Fire

(Arlecchino x GN! Reader)

A/N - Hi 🍉 Anon! Nice to see you again <3. Sorry this took so long. I just spoiled you guys with dragon arle, but how about dragon reader? Great idea, anon. Y'all really love dragons huh? Dragons are cool af, I don't blame you guys. Unfortunately, I dunno a whole lot of genshin lore, so how genshin dragons work, idrk. I made you a Pyro Dragon, because bonding over fire abilities >>> Dunno why I was so braindead while writing this, but that's why this took me an extra day to write this. By the way, the title is the english translation of the last three words. I headcanon that Arlecchino can speak Fontainian (French). Content warnings / info - monster x human, reader is a dragon, reader is referred to ‘it’ for the most part, not second pov until the middle, arle's pov, reader is gn!, 1.7k words

Arlecchino didn't typically deal with these sorts of outings, not when her job typically dealt with information gathering and diplomacy. However, she couldn't turn a blind eye to this report in another Fatui camp situated in Poisson. Purportedly, rations have been going missing despite attempts to secure and protect them. Fatui operatives have been injured, and while Arlecchino does not doubt that some incompetence may have come into play, she does not believe that they are truly that incompetent. The operatives confirm that it is some type of creature, given the claws marks and the teeth indents the harmed operatives detailed. Whatever it was, it was too quick for the members to see, and so she now had to deal with it.

Arriving at the camp, witness accounts didn't prove to be very helpful in terms of identifying the troublesome critter. However, the storage room, where the rations were stored, provided an interesting story to her. Unsurprisingly, clawed scratches littered around the containers of food, though she notices the indentures were caused by rather small paws. Despite the suggestion that the creature was rather tiny, it did not mean that creature was not weak, able to cut through solid metal. Interestingly enough, scorch marks also surrounded the area, even though there were no burns recorded in the injury accounts. The creature also seems rather famished. Each occurrence it raids the storage room, a considerable amount of food was stolen. Fascinating. Arlecchino can think of very few creatures like this but all of them seem implausible.

However, there was a pattern to this creature’s visits. Every three nights, it came, wrecking havoc to whatever was in its way, but Arlecchino is sure that she'd be successful in capturing the beast tonight. She orders that no operatives are around the area–the last thing she desires is some inept fool getting in her way–and then she waits outside.

It's near midnight when she first sees a glimpse of the creature's silhouette, about the size of a cat, but she can make out a long tail with spikes. Just as she anticipated, the creature appeared, flying through the open window she purposely opened. It pauses at the entrance, as if observing the lack of guards, but not questioning it as it dashes across the floor. Either this isn't a very smart creature, or its desperation for food outweighs the risks. Regardless, it just made a mistake.

She uses her speed to enter the room before the creature has time to react, standing in front of the window it entered through. She closes the window, her eyes narrowing down on the now cornered beast. A scaled creature, with horns and wings. Its ears flattens against its head and their wings press against its body, imitating the fearful behavior a mutt would display. The longer she observers the creature the more she realizes that these traits match those of a dragon, albeit a very small dragon. She wonders if this was just a hatchling.

The small dragon snarls at her, and a blaze emanates from its spine, the flames coursing down to its tail. The bright flames illuminate the dragon's features more, and it's when she notices that blood is spewing from a gruesome cut on its leg.

An injured Pyro Dragon? It's terribly small, and she can't imagine how this one is still alive given its injury. Although the fire is an indicator it's a mature adult, the size is a cause of concern. What a pitiful thing.

Arlecchino’s eyes flicker over to the box that the dragon tried getting into. As she approaches it, the dragon snarls, tensing its body to lunge at her at any second, however, she simply ignores it. Opening the lid, she's met with thick cuts of raw meat. She takes several cuts of the meat from the insulated container, before holding it out in front of the dragon. If the dragon needs raw meat, she has a particular selection of premium raw meat for herself that she could use for the dragon.

“Eat,” she demands as she offers the food. The dragon, still maintaining its anxious behavior, stalks closer, sniffing the food before it latches its teeth on the steak.

“I have as much meat as you could want, better quality as well. I'll feed you, shelter you, and take care of that cut for you. Come with me.” She says, offering another slab of meat.

The dragon doesn't respond, nor stop eating, but its body relaxes. By the time it reaches its last piece of meat, it's eating out of her hand. Arlecchino uses the close proximity to examine the dragon's injuries. The dragon nudges its head against her hand, and Arlecchino strokes the dragon's head.

“Will you come home with me?”

The dragon gives her an affirmative croak.

—

The dragon did not grow any larger even in the months it stayed with her, nor did it transform into its human form yet. Its wound had been festering for quite a while, however under her care, it is healing remarkably quickly. Arlecchino proposes that the dragon is using its energy to heal from the wound. Had the dragon not done so, it would have surely met an agonizing fate. This continuous depletion didn't allow for the dragon to grow in size, transform, or use its powers and it would have continued in that state for years had she not rescued it.

It must be because of this that the dragon does not take long to get attached to her.

The dragon always sticks near her, sometimes physically on top of her. If it's not on her shoulder or head, then it's on her lap. Getting accustomed to how clingy the dragon is was a struggle, but she soon learns.

If she'd allow it, it'd follow her everywhere. It's almost endearing.

It only took three days for the dragon to sneak into her bedroom. The morning after, she awakened with an unfamiliar weight over her torso, and she found that the dragon was nestled on top of her. The next night that she slept, it was nuzzled against her neck and sprawled over her right shoulder. She'd be lying if she said it was an unwelcome sight, and it became a nightly occurrence.

Often the dragon would play and entertain the House of the Hearth children. Sometimes, it'd accompany her outside, but only on certain missions. After all, she needed to test the dragon’s abilities in its current condition, and who better to test it on than the scum of Fontaine?

Something else she finds intriguing is that the dragon devours fire, much like how the Iudex fancies his water, though the dragon is particular to her blood flames than any typical flames. On occasion, she uses her powers as a treat that the creature happily indulges in.

Arlecchino only wonders what more she would learn once the dragon finally transforms.

—

Arlecchino returns to the House of the Hearth after another irritating Harbinger meeting, rather exasperated and irked by some of the impudence and dimness of her ‘coworkers.’ She reaches her bedroom, exhaling a sigh. Before she enters, she hears scuffling from beyond her bedroom door. Her door is slightly cracked open, implying that someone had entered during her absence. From the small opening of her door, she catches a glimpse of a figure. Instantly, her eyes narrow and she withdraws her scythe.

Intruders have no place in her house. She knows that no children are inside, as it's one of the first things she's instilled when they first come: stay away from her room under any circumstance. So who is this audacious soul that dares trespass into her chambers?

Upon opening the door, she does not expect the speed of her assailant, as a figure crashes into her, wrapping their arms around her neck, face pressed against her neck. Arlecchino is momentarily stunned by the action, but for some reason, it feels familiar. The body is abnormally hot, too warm for a human being. This isn't someone she recognizes, and she was about to throw the being off of her when she paused. A purr erupts from the other person's throat, the vibrations coursing through the Harbinger.

“Arle…” the person murmurs, the name making Arlecchino hesitate. They lean away, tilting their head and glancing up at her, and then her breath hitches. Vibrant, slitted eyes stare back at her, that gaze only belonging to a certain dragon she knows.

“You're the–”

“–Dragon. It's finally nice to meet you, Arlecchino,” you say, as you finally uncoil your arms around her. Arlecchino observes you for longer, her scythe disappearing. Now that there's no threat, Arlecchino takes the time to observe your human form.

“Are you fully healed?”

You nod, giving her a soft smile. “I am. Thank you. I'm indebted to you. I'm sure you know of this, but I would not have survived for much longer if it weren't for your help. If you'd allow me, I'd like to work under you as a repayment. I'm sure you'd like what I have to offer.”

Arlecchino closes her eyes, a ghost of a smile appearing over her lips. “Very well.”

—

Arlecchino learns many things about you. She learns of your favorite food, which happens to be her blood fire. The way you favor your meat served and how you're incredibly food-excitable. She learns that your wings and tails are incredibly sensitive underneath her fingertips and she is well aware that she abuses this knowledge. She learns that your presence lifts her heart and it’s only you that can appreciate her curse.

Your favorite touch from her is your head. Everyday, she'd pat you on the head the same way she did the night she saved you. Kissing your forehead and carding through your hair are close seconds.

She learns that there are some things that don't change even with your new form. While you never return to your small size in your dragon form, it does not mean you still do not linger around her, sitting in her lap when she's at her desk. You still play with the children, often acting as the ‘Mother’ role that the children did not have. And every night, you return to her bedside, embraced in her arms.

There are a few things that have changed with your new form. Arlecchino feels as if you've rekindled her, your love is another flame in her veins that doesn't scorch her being, but instead, you warm her soul, consuming her cursed blood flames.

It's what inspires the name that she always calls you before you drift to sleep.

“Mon petit feu.”

#arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x you #arlecchino #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact fic #genshin impact fanfics #genshin fics #genshin fanfics #edgeray.writes #edgeray.requests #edgeray.🍉anon

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dduane · 1 month

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hello mrs. duane, i've been following you for a while, but i just wanted to say that the young wizards series is one of my favorite series of novels that i've ever read and has a huge impact on how i write my own stories and worlds, so thank you for creating them. my absolute favorite detail about how the YW series works though is the nature of the ordeal and how that informs the dynamic between wizards and the lone power. the whole system of "a young wizard is given an ordeal because they'd be the best suited to take on the lone power for this particular problem" is really cool and interesting, but i absolutely love how the way it's handled means that the lone power basically has Personal Beef with every single wizard in the universe. something about how the lone power is always like "oh fuck, not these two again" every time it sees that nita and kit are involved in foiling another one of its plans is so funny to me, especially how absolutely sick of their shit it was in wizards' holiday when it was asking for kit and nita's help. it's just such a fascinating and entertaining dynamic and adds so much to the lone power's character as an antagonist. i just wanted to tell you how much i enjoy it.

I'm glad all that works for you. :)

If I have a recurring preference for my bad guys—Big Bad or otherwise—it's that they need to have sound reasons for engaging with their antagonists/victims/whatever, and not just be flailing around aimlessly looking for ways to be Eeeeevil and make unfocused trouble. They should also, ideally, routinely see themselves as being in the right: and in some cases, the injured parties. (One model for this attitude I got from Le Guin—that line in The Left Hand Of Darkness where the King asks some poor functionary light years away, by ansible, "What makes a man a traitor?" and the answer comes back "I do not know... No man considers himself a traitor: this makes it hard to find out.")

The Lone Power is therefore well in this mold. It would probably (in the first instance, anyway) have had no trouble with engaging with Creation had Its colleagues not insisted on disagreeing with It regarding its uniquely annoying invention, Entropy. Instead, though, they took the undignified and inelegant approach of not only siding with physical Creation against It, but unilaterally enforcing this attitude by (the hyperdimensional version of) brute force!—surely the last refuge of those with no really solid argument on their side.

So It's left stuck in profound disdain for the Creation all its peers are defending, and yet is forced (again and again) to descend into that creation, into the icky mucky morass of gross physical embodiment, to try to demonstrate to the other Powers and their deluded minions how wrong they are about the value of Life. And yes, absolutely, It has serious beef with every single damn scrap of living matter that has the absolute gall to be alive in Its despite. The more sentient, the more beef.

And the more sentient those chunks of Life prove themselves by repeatedly getting in the Lone One's face, the more galled It gets by them. Especially the ones who have the absolute cheek to claim to be doing it on purpose, because they seem to think they have some right to have beef with It! It's like being dissed by bugs. Infuriating! Makes It want to stomp on them all the harder.

Needless to say, the "bugs" have their own take on this. :) (Which just pisses It off worse.) And that a being that's come to disdain sentience itself as wasted on the lower orders winds up spending so much of Its own sentience on attempting to punish such lesser beings... well, the irony's almost certainly inescapable, sometimes, even for that One, so very invested in being Right. Viewed from a vantage point closer to the Heart of things, you could almost feel sorry for It. And in some moods, you'd be tempted to laugh at It... which naturally It pretty much hates more than anything else.

Eventually, of course, the goal (whispered here and there in Timeheart) is that It will discover being Right is of less value in the long run than it originally believed: that what matters is correcting the error—if it can be corrected—and starting over. What that will look like, for the time being wizards can do no more than speculate.

Meanwhile, they continue to take things personally. Earning the Lone One's very personal enmity, and indeed doing it repeatedly, isn't at all safe. But in some moods, it can be really, really fun... which (both in those moods, and out of them) is what makes Nita and Kit and their colleagues so dangerous. :)

#Young Wizards meta #the Lone Power

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delfiore · 1 year

Text

—MY DEAREST FRIEND AND ENEMY. (1/5)

pairing: ona batlle x fem!reader

synopsis: you were ona’s biggest headache at man united, until you both move to barcelona.

word count: 3.7k

a/n: i’ve been watching the men’s game for years but i’ve finally sobered FINAL TODAY LET’S GO ENGLAND LET’S GO SPAIN (MOSTLY SPAIN)

PART II, PART III, PART IV, PART V

It started four years ago when Ona first signed for United. She didn’t notice at first the way you were always gunning for her, she was just doing her job.

But now, you were here in Barcelona with her. As she looked up at you, a soft smile on your face, everything she had buried in the past year all came rushing back.

Everyone was aware of the new signing from the States for her rival club just a couple of weeks before, a dragged-out saga of whether you were going to choose City or United. Unfortunately for her, you chose the Sky Blues.

If things had been different, maybe she wouldn’t have despised you as much as she did.

The first Manchester derby you played, she thought marking you would be easy until you dribbled past her several times to register a goal and assist. She must have been glowering at you when she walked back to the midfield line, because you shrugged before grinning at her, saying: “All in a day’s work.”

“Could I just ask what put Man City above all the other contenders for your signature?” “Well, I mean, it’s a great club with a great history, amazing players too. I’ve spoken at length with the new manager and he gave me a rough plan for next year’s project. So I’m really excited and confident that it’ll be a great destination for me.” “What do you say to the people who think you’ve chosen City for the money?” “People can think whatever they want to think. I’ll just play my game, and they can judge me all they want. It’s all anyone’s good for.” “You’ve just transferred from Portland, you’ve got an enormous price tag for the women’s game, tons of big clubs in Europe wanted you. There’s a mounting pressure on you, it seems. Do you think you’ll be up for the challenge of the Women’s Super League?” “It’s no fun if it’s not a challenge.”

Ona Batlle was what people considered a modern full-back, dangerous in attack just as she was solid in defense. But when playing against Man City, she usually has to stay back to avoid a dangerous winger finding their way into the box; you. It wasn’t her way of playing, and it frustrated her that that was what her role was while her team was struggling to create chances, especially when she knew she could help.

“I want you to stay back and mark Y/L/N. Whatever you do, do not let her out of your sight,” Casey had told her.

She hated you for caging her in, and the worst part was she wasn’t sure if she can stop you sometimes.

The night before her next game against you, she watched how you played the previous match, studied your movement carefully, and took notes. She liked that she had found a pattern. You liked to use your speed, but you also liked to taunt your defenders; a pace of prime Thierry Henry’s, and showboating tendencies like that of Neymar. It’s why you were so entertaining to watch, because every defender you faced ended up a sort of decoration to your parlor tricks, her included.

Ona never liked being second best to anybody, and certainly not to you.

And so when she was on the pitch, zeroing on you like a hawk, there was nothing stopping her from getting away from you. She didn’t need to resort to any risky challenges, she just needed to stick with you, keep you at arm’s length, and stay between you and the goal at all costs.

You may be a skilled player for your age, but controlling your temper is something you haven’t been able to achieve. She heard you cursing a few times, eventually earning you a yellow card when your insults were directed at the referee.

The ball had only left the City’s goalkeeper, Roebuck, yet she already felt you pushing back against her.

The game ended 3-1 for United, but she was secretly much happier that she had managed to piss you off so much, that you didn’t bother shaking hands with her afterwards.

“Congratulations, Ona. A huge victory for United. What do you think went well today?” “I think that our plans worked because we practiced and showed what we’re able to do. We didn’t have a lot of possession, but we focused on the counterattacks, and I think that definitely was a very effective tactic today.” “I have to ask you about Y/N Y/L/N. She’s been a formidable player in the league until now, and notoriously difficult to defend against, but she was practically silenced today on the left-hand side. Do you think you had something to do with that?” “I think what I’ve prepared in defense has worked out, for sure. I’ve also got my teammates to thank for covering the grounds for me. Y/L/N is a good player, and it’s always a joy to play against her.”

Her rivalry with you continued, and soon even the press was picking up on it. Manchester derbies now included Y/L/N v. Batlle, and everyone was predicting what crazy thing would happen next. It wasn’t common for defenders to make waves in the paper compared to superstar strikers or even midfielders unless they were linked with a big move. But soon Ona was reading about herself in the news, how she has defended Manchester United’s left wing with an iron grip, how they started calling her la matadora, for her ability to hold off forwards and tame them like bullfighters do.

One bull remained to be tamed though, and her conundrum continued into her second season at United.

Unlike her, you seemed to take the new breath of fame easily enough. Day in and day out, there were news of you scoring goals and bringing Man City to the top of the table by November.

You were born to be a star.

But Ona knew from shooting stars in the game that burned out too quickly; if you let what’s outside the pitch get to you, you might as well just leave it altogether. You might have been a good player, on your way to becoming a great one even, but you did have a flare for the dramatics which riled up the press quite a bit. If she was lucky, maybe the pressure would take you out of the game before she does.

International breaks were times she always look forward to, being able to represent her country. Even if they were friendly matches, she knew Spain was always being watched, as a team’s form was important on the world stage. The team would play two friendly matches, the first one being against Brazil and the other against the United States. Some friendly fixtures . . .

Brazil was a breeze, mainly because she wouldn’t have to face her biggest adversary. Naturally, you were called up to your national team, and the back-and-forth game persisted.

She had played against you many times at club level, but the way you played for your country was something else. There was more passion to the way you weave your way through defenders, more flare to your shots. It could also be the adrenaline of being called up for the first time, and wanting to prove yourself—she knew that feeling well.

It didn’t come as a surprise, then, that when a long ball was played over the defense line and Marta Cardona was on her way towards goal, you’d be there to strike her down right at the edge of the box. Her teammates appealed, and the referee paused the game, but all Ona saw was red. With a speed she didn’t know she had in her, she sprinted to you and shoved you away as you were bending down in a show of checking on Marta.

“What was that?! You could have broken her ankle, cabrona!”

“Watch it.”

You had never seen her so angry before—her jaw locked as she continued to hurl insults at you. If she wasn’t your mortal enemy maybe you could have found it attractive. So you pushed back, and soon both your teammates and hers crowded around you, trying to separate you. Kelley put her arm around your neck and walked away, telling you to “keep your cool, this is only a friendly”.

Never, you thought. Never while I’m playing against her.

You apologized to Marta eventually, and she was cool with it. “Heat of the moment”, she said, and you were grateful. You never meant to hurt anyone. Sometimes you just couldn’t control your adrenaline spike.

As expected, Ona didn’t even look at you after the match. So you went home with Marta.

The next morning at breakfast, Ona heard laughing from the girls surrounding Marta.

“How was your American late-night snack, Marta?” Leila laughed.

The girl only shook her head with a grin. “It was delicious, alright.”

Ona didn’t know what that twisted feeling in her gut was when she heard what Marta said, as she walked back to her hotel room after breakfast. She just knew that as long as she was alive, you were the most despicable person she knew.

ESPN: Y/L/N-Batlle Feud Continues, Bonmatí Controls Midfield in Spain-USWNT Clash “LOS ANGELES -- Thursday night saw a friendly match between Spain’s women's national team and the USWNT at the Snapdragon Stadium that ended in a 2-2 draw. Several debutants started for both teams, including Man City powerhouse Y/N Y/L/N. After a stunning cross into the box from the left for Mallory Pugh to tap in, a dangerous slide tackle on Marta Cardona ensured Y/L/N to be the heart of a confrontation between several players, including Ona Batlle. It seems their club rivalry persists as they were seen giving each other a very clear piece of their minds, and several clashes succeeded the Cardona tackle. It would have been a good performance for both if not for the slip of attitude. One thing is clear, though; the mentality is there, and it sure is entertaining to watch. […]”

The end of the season was fast approaching, and while you had become a thorn in her side, it came to a point in which she would not think about you until a week before a clash. This one in particular was crucial in the race for a Champions League spot that both Manchester clubs were vying for. She knew what it meant for the club to secure a UCL spot for the first time, and you were not about to ruin it for her.

Tooney and Millie invited her out for dinner the night before the derby, but she turned them down, opting for a quiet night in instead. After a few hours, however, she suddenly felt antsy, the anticipation before the game nipping at her. It was only 7pm when she checked and she decided to go for a run. She followed the familiar path she always takes to the nearby park, and she was glad she did because the sun was going down, leaving a glorious trail of orange in the sky. She loved these peaceful moments, away from adrenaline, away from the constant pressure, away from constantly having to push herself or she’d be called ‘lazy’.

A constant huffing sound appeared next to her, and when Ona looked down she saw an adorable corgi looking up at her while wagging its tail.

“Hello,” she bent down and pet the dog. Loving the attention, the little corgi jumped up in an attempt to lick her face, to which she let out a laugh.

“Bratwurst! Come back here!” She heard a voice call in the distance, which she assumed must have been the owner. “Sorry, he loves people.”

Ona looked up, and her face dropped. You did the same, standing frozen in front of her. Bratwurst was jumping up and down before you, probably excited that he received pets from someone else today.

She had never seen you in plain clothes before. You clearly knew how to dress yourself, because she might have admitted that you looked good if she didn’t hate you so much. But it was difficult to see you as anything else other than Y/N Y/L/N, Manchester City winger, and potentially Golden Boot winner this season by the looks of it.

And yet, she sat down on a nearby bench with you anyway, watching Bratwurst stick his butt in the air, attempting to catch a squirrel.

“I named him Bratwurst ‘cause he’s . . . long, you know?” You chuckled. ”Short form is Brat too, that’s kinda funny.”

In a sea of northern Englishmen, she never got to hear your American accent properly as she’d only heard you speak no more than two words to her, and most of the time they weren’t pleasant.

“How do you have time to own a dog?” She asked.

“He’s a foster. I just got him a couple of weeks ago.” You looked down at your fingers. “It’s nice to have him to come home to.”

The conversation died down, and suddenly Ona felt like this was a mistake. Maybe she should just leave, and continue her run. But she saw a different side to you—a gentler, quieter side unlike the boastful player she knew you as—and she wasn’t sure whether it was a good thing or not.

“Are you planning on adopting him permanently?”

“Maybe. I just want to make sure that I’m settled before making him move.”

You leaned back, placed your arm on the bench, and closed your eyes.

“You don’t want to stay in Manchester?”

“I don’t know yet. Why, would you be happy if I did?” You smirked, and she saw a glimpse of that player again.

Yes. “Your presence doesn’t bother me. It doesn’t bring me any joy either.”

“Just face it, Batlle.” You turned your body to her. “I get under your skin, don’t I?”

Ona blinked, her jaw clenching. “You don’t intimidate me, Y/L/N. You might be used to people bowing at your feet, but I won’t let you walk all over me. We will win tomorrow, and you might think to show some respect for others in the game.”

“Sorry, Batlle, can’t let you win. We’re playing Champions League next season.” You really enjoyed taunting her.

Ona huffed and stood up. As she walked away, she heard you call out to her. “See you on the pitch tomorrow, la matadora!”

There was nothing you could ever do to make yourself less hateful in her eyes.

It was matchday, kick-off time. Ona saw you on the other side of the midfield line. “Remember what you came here to do, and finish the job,” Marc had told them in the dressing room. He was right. She had a job to do, and she wasn’t about to let you ruin that for her.

They were to play with a high line today, which required Ona to stay near the midfield line and run back, should a forward slip through. About halfway through the first half, she had a startling realization; you were dropping back too, playing a number-10 role. It meant that she couldn’t do what she did last time you met, because there would be a gaping hole where she covers.

United was leading 1-0 by halftime, and while they had the advantage, the fight was far from over.

“Okay, ladies. Have a drink and take a seat,” Marc stood at the front of the dressing room. “We’re doing good, we’re holding them off. Keep up the pressure.”

Ona sat back to catch her breath. You were much more versatile than she thought, and maybe that was her mistake for underestimating you. It seemed too easy that you were giving her exactly what she wanted, playing high at the flank like she always does. There was more to it, but she needed to adapt.

Ona held your gaze for a moment across the field. You weren’t giving up. It seemed you were confident enough in whatever wicked plan you still had up your sleeve, that you sent her a smirk back.

It was the 70th minute of the game and they were so close to achieving it. Katie was looking for a pass, so Ona made herself available.

There was empty space near the side of the box, and she wanted to utilize it but it meant having to get past a couple of defenders.

“Vilde! 1, 2!” She called, passed the ball to her teammate, and started running. Her momentum was halted when Vilde’s ball was cut off and instantly launched forward.

The counterattack came so quickly, it must have been what you practiced. 1-1.

Suddenly, the tides have shifted. The momentum was with City. Time was running out, and the sudden goal disoriented her team. It took about five minutes for everyone to get their head back into the game, but Ona could tell City were used to having possession by then.

And then, in the 88th minute, you were given the ball from the left. Everyone except Alessia had dropped back to defend a series of dangerous balls up until now. You didn’t have anyone to pass to without getting intercepted, and you were outside of the box. So you took the shot. She watched helplessly as the ball flew past Mary into the top right corner.

1-2.

Ona’s body ran cold as she watched you celebrate with your teammates.

When the final whistle came shortly after, she collapsed on her knees.

Some of her teammates were there to console her, but she let their comfort pass through her. She needed to break something.

She needed to get away from everyone and found a spot near the bathrooms where she could catch her breath. Her boots were dangling from her hand by the laces. She slumped against a wall and began to cry, the boots clattering next to her on the floor.

It wasn’t that she was sad to have lost—she blamed herself for letting you get to her head. The interaction of the day before got her thinking what ifs. What if we didn’t meet under these circumstances? What if I could have just gotten to know you without wanting to rip your head off every time I see you?

You heard quiet sobs down the hallway and knew it was her. You had quickly gone into the tunnel when you didn’t see her anywhere on the pitch, but you certainly weren’t expecting to see her cry.

“Batlle?” You called.

She didn’t seem to notice you, sitting against the wall and wiping her face with her shirt.

“Hey, it’s okay.” That was a stupid thing to say considering you just beat her out of a Champions League spot, of course it’s not okay.

“I’m really not in the mood,” she said, looking away.

“You did good out there,” you said, watching her anxiously.

“Don’t act like you care,” she sniffled. “You got what you wanted.”

“I’m not as heartless as you think, Ona.” You quipped back. “I’m not sorry that we won, but I am sorry that you’re hurt.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” She sobbed and glared at you. It sent a chill down your bones. “I wish we had never met.”

How do you tell her that you never meant for things to go this way? That every word you had ever said to her didn’t stem from malice but from fear? You had wished to push her away so that you don’t collide with her head-on. How do you tell her that no matter how hard you tried, you still gravitated toward her?

“I’m sorry.” You repeated, like a fool.

She was hurting because of you.

You snuck a glance at the form of the girl in front of you, like you would be penalized if you were caught looking at her. You took a step back to go, but she held onto your arm and pulled your body against her.

You had been fantasizing about having your mouth against her for months, usually in absurd circumstances, like you two making out in a bed of roses or you giving her a kiss after she, a masked superhero, saved you from danger. Never like this, muscles aching, sweat coating your foreheads, wearing your respective uniforms—being so you doing this.

You wanted to enjoy it. Her lips were soft and salty, and she might have secured you by the waist against her. Your knees trembled as you sighed into her lips, pushing her against the wall gently. Your hesitancy soon turned into hunger, as you pressed your body into hers, desperate to feel her.

Murmurs in the distance snapped you out of it. “Where’s Ona?” You made out one of the voices saying.

You looked back at her, your faces just inches away. You never noticed, but she had so many beautiful freckles adorning her face.

“Ona—“ You said, but she quickly picked up her boots and left towards the voices.

Chest heaving and head spinning, you slumped against the wall with a small grin, bringing your fingers up to touch your lips where she had been.

“Where have you been?” Keira asked in the dressing room, but you just shook your head.

“Just to the bathroom.”

Sky Sports: Man City’s Talisman Y/N Y/L/N Nets Stunning Late Goal Against Man United To Secure UWCL Spot […]

a/n: this gif is so y/n and ona coded

#ona batlle x reader #ona batlle imagine #ona batlle imagines #ona batlle #woso #woso x reader #woso imagines #wwc23 #spain wnt #man united women

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infinitevisions · 7 months

Text

A Lesson (To Both of Us)

Pairing: Crosshair x Gender-Neutral Reader Summary: Crosshair decides to play games on you while teaching you how to snipe, but his plan quickly backfires. Word Count: 1,024 Tags: Crosshair teasing you, unresolved sexual tension, this isn't smut but it's somewhat spicey, wrote this with clone wars Crosshair in mind but imagine whatever era you want!! there is eventual fluff!! Notes: this is my FIRST X READER EVER, so if it's not good please bear with me!! crosshair enjoyers you deserve the world so i hope yall enjoy this

“I just don’t think this is in the cards for me.” You groaned. You stood in the training range with Crosshair's firearm, surprised he even allowed you to use it, even with his surveillance. While you had fired some rounds on the target, the gun grew too heavy and caused discomfort in your shoulders. You had no idea how he did this for a living. Crosshair groaned and used his leg as momentum to rise off the wall he was leaning against.

“So dramatic.” Crosshair remarked as he approached you. Before speaking, his augmented eyes scanned you up and down. It felt like a perfect circumstance for him to test the waters. The stage was set and the fruit was ripe for the taking.

“You’re in the wrong position.” He stated. Your neck was too far forward, straining your muscles, your legs were too close together, and your arms should exchange positions. You felt your breath hitch at the statement, but you attempted to ignore your filthy mind. Crosshair caught your chest stutter and cracked a grin.

“You’re too tense,” he added. “You need to loosen up.”

“Okay… mind showing me, wise one?” You joked, attempting to conceal the fact that your heart was pounding just from hearing his voice. But Crosshair wasn't dumb. He knew just how his voice affected you. He decided to add fuel to the fire. He threw his toothpick aside before getting to work.

“You need to spread your legs.” He drew back, keeping his gaze fixed on your face to watch how you reacted, whether you enjoyed this. If he detected any uncomfortable body language, he would stop instantly.

Luckily for him, he noticed your throat bob as you swallowed spit. Your legs separated, and you assumed a more solid stance. He observed you intently as you were doing so.

“How’s this? This alright?” You searched for more confirmation. He spotted a window of opportunity. He gave you a quick once-over before starting.

“Mind if I… show you?” He inquired before figuratively taking his shot. You finally shifted your attention to him, relaxing your grasp on the rifle for a moment. You took in his small grin and exhaled. You were curious about where he was headed with this.

“Of course.”

Crosshair's eyes shimmered with hunger.

He approached you from behind, pressing his armored chest against your unarmored but clothed back. He took his hands and placed them upon yours, guiding your hands to the appropriate positions. He focused his gaze just past your left ear. His breath fanned over your ear, and you continued to breathe deeply but sought to mask it.

“Much better now, isn’t it?” Crosshair asked smoothly, feeling your hands tremble beneath his.

“Y–Yeah. Lots. Feels amazing.” You tried lightly teasing back. He chuckled before speaking.

“Now, take a look around. Are you vulnerable?” He inquired as he felt your back compress against his chest and swell with every breath you took.

You certainly felt vulnerable. It was unexpected for Crosshair to be so close to you, yet it turned out to be one of the most outstanding experiences of your existence. The sunset made the most beautiful swirl of hues in the sky, and normally, you would take it in and appreciate it, but there's nothing quite like the sensation of having Crosshair against you.

However, it's important to note that his question was simply, are you a current target?

“N–No, uh… I don’t see anyone aiming at me.” You stated.

“Mm-hmm.” He rumbled into your ear, and your legs nearly buckled at the sound. For what amount of time would he continue to pursue this? How much more of you crumbling did he need to see before he was satisfied? Before you further spiraled into your thoughts, you heard Crosshair inhale to say his next words of wisdom.

“Try taking another shot for me.”

For him. For him. The words rang in your brain as you gently placed your finger over the trigger. He was whispering in your ear– right in the open for everyone to see. It drove you crazy. It was your primary motive for shooting the objective. You inhaled before pulling the trigger and giving it hell.

You blasted a straight shot to the target's forehead.

Despite your distraction from Crosshair, you felt quite proud of yourself and puffed out a little chuckle. However, you remained still since Crosshair remained motionless as well.

“Very good.” Crosshair purred in your ear, his tone dulcet as honey.

You couldn’t hold back the whimper that manifested after he said that. It was quiet, but Crosshair still picked up on it. Like he always did. Like he always would. You gathered yourself together, stepped away from him, and looked upward at his face. He also took a step back, allowing you some room.

You couldn't help but reflect carefully on everything as you took in the atmosphere. You trained with the guidance of Crosshair. It was unknown to you if it was for his own pleasure, but as soon as you realized the magnitude of the situation, a smile spread across your face.

“It was all thanks to you,” You said softly. Even though he riled you up, you were honored that he trained you how to snipe. Crosshair’s sharp demeanor slowly dropped, shocked at your genuine gratitude. When he saw your grin, he didn't know why blood shot to his brain and caused dizziness. It frustrated him as he began to feel overwhelmed. The fact that your enchanting grin was the only thing on his mind just made him angrier.

You held the weapon out for him to take back. He looked down at your hands on his rifle and saw how soft they were in comparison to his. After taking the gun, he broke eye contact and turned around so his back was to you. He chose to dismiss any other possibilities as the source of his condition and put the blame entirely on being ill. Despite his lingering fear that it wasn't what it was.

“Don’t mention it.” Crosshair said sheepishly, struggling to ignore the warm sensation inside his chest.

#crosshair x reader #the bad batch x reader #crosshair #ct 9904 #the bad batch #tbb crosshair #the bad batch crosshair #the bad batch imagine

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dunmeshichilchuck · 3 months

Text

For That One Guy On Tumblr part 8

Chilchuck x !fem !halffoot reader

:) I think some of you guys are gonna like this one.

You'd been afraid working with Chilchuck would be difficult, if not impossible, but you soon settled into an easy rhythm with him. With the both of you working together, you could cover more ground. Soon you worked out an almost code to signal to each other, quiet warnings and quick clicks of the tongue.

The traps were sporadic and sometimes difficult to find and prepare for. Sometimes they were triggered by movement, sometimes by pressure. You weren't sure if you would have been able to get through them all alone.

The labyrinth changed around you as you moved, doors clicking into place or disappearing. Soon you'd been unwillingly shunted off what you'd thought was the main corridor into who knows where.

Eventually you came to a dead end. Chilchuck huffed in exasperation. "Damnit I'll have to either find some way through this or we'll need to backtrack, which would lose us a lot of time."

"Well if it's going to be a minute until we can move on we might as well stop for a meal now." Senshi said cheerfully.

He stopped and made a move to unpack. You held up a hand. "hold on! Let me check this area for traps."

You quickly combed the area. Surprisingly, it was completely clean for about ten feet away from the dead end. Definitely enough to set up a quick camp site.

Once finished, Senshi began happily unpacking and then slicing up the walking mushroom. You joined Chilchuck in poking around the walls for hidden passageways.

"There's no traps right around here. Not for another ten feet back" You said.

"Yup, that's why I'm thinking it's not actually a dead end. Something's gotta move"

You nodded, and continued combing over the wall, poking and prodding at the bricks.

"That was a really dumb thing you did back there."

You glanced up, affronted. Did you somehow miss a trap? "What? What did I do?"

"You know what I mean!" Chilchuck quietly hissed. "Tackling Izutzumi! There was a solid chance that wouldn't have worked and you haven't built up nearly enough body mass for resurrection to work again! We could have resurrected Izutzumi, I don't know if we could have resurrected you. It's not our job to put ourselves in danger unnecessarily! It's not brave, it's just stupid."

You bristled and hissed back. "It wasn't like I planned that! I saw someone in danger and reacted. If I'd stopped to make a thought out plan Izutzumi would have died, and I don't know if you noticed but she's not exactly over abundant in body mass herself."

"Yes but she has more than you do! We *have* to keep expectations consistent across all halffoot workers, that's how this works and how the union continues to function. Yeah maybe you're okay with putting your life at risk for a stupid fucking reason but no halffoot should be forced into that!"

"I'm not part of the union." You shot back. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Izutzumi watching you with a bored expression. Ah. Cat ears.

You switched seamlessly into your native tongue, your voice rising a bit from anger. "When I went into the dungeon there were no regulations and you had to do whatever it took to prove you deserved to be here! Yeah we're both halffoots, but you're a man and you're tall for a halffoot, do you have any idea what it's like to be a tiny halffoot *woman* trying to get people to take her seriously? I learned how to fight and how to do stuff like that out of *necessity* because otherwise I would have been dropped by the wayside! And I don't have a contract with this party, and it might be nice to have another trap guy but they don't actually *need* me, and I'm telling you right now I will NOT be left behind and I WILL do WHATEVER it takes to be a part of this party. I don't give a shit about your fucking union. Let me take my own risks and stop treating me like a goddamn child, I have enough of that from the other races."

You were half yelling by the end of that and your face was flushed and hot. How dare he try and sit there and talk you through how halffoots were exploited like you hadn't gone through it too? Preaching on his fucking high horse.

Chilchuck scowled, but he looked just slightly taken aback. He'd glanced at Izutzumi when you did and probably had picked up what you had, because he answered in the same language. "You don't have... Fuck you're right. I can probably negotiate one for you, you really don't have to do stuff like that just to be in this party. Why does it even matter to you so much? You don't need to stay here, you don't need to be doing this, we can just send you back. Marcilles all shy about it but they can learn the home spell from their book I bet. She picks stuff up real fast."

You grit your teeth and pointed an accusatory finger at him. "Tell me. ONE. personal fact. About yourself."

He blinked, mouth hanging open before he snapped it shut. "What?"

"I've heard Marcille referencing her school, Laois talks about his sister and a bit about his village, Senshi won't shut up about the stuff he's into, and Izutzumi is Izutzumi, but YOU don't share SHIT. so if you want ME to start sharing you better fucking open up too buddy."

"I- that's not- what- I keep my personal and professional life very separate!"

You grinned. "Then don't expect me to be any different."

Chilchuck opened his mouth to retort, before shutting it again. Then he shrugged. "Yeah that's fair, keep your reasons to yourself, I'll negotiate you a contract anyway, just forms sake."

You put your hand down, the wind a bit let out of your sails. You hadn't expected him to back down so easy and you felt oddly...disappointed. it'd been a bit since you'd had a really good knock down drag out argument.

"Food is ready!" Senshi said "Come and eat while it's hot!"

Taglist, ask to tag:

@hopefully-not

@night-shadowblood-writes2

@thoughtfulbelieverstrawberry

@dunmeshimeshi

@leguink

@gh0st-spider

@reh-llik

@sy1v30n

@qardasngan

@mshope16

@drowsydoggy

@anaxnee

#chilchuck x reader #chilchuck #chilchuk dungeon meshi #chilchuck tims #chilchuk tims #chilchuck dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi x reader #for that one guy on tumblr

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dearsnow · 3 months

Text

I’D HAVE TO THINK ABOUT IT

- you still think about the man that broke your heart years later. (bradley “rooster” bradshaw x gn!/fem!reader, pure angst (sorry))

word count: 719

a/n - writing angst scratches a part of my writing urges that nothing else can fill lol. i prefer reading fluff, but writing is another story- funny, huh? anyways, enjoy. here’s to writing that doesn’t have a happy ending <3

When your boyfriend was deployed the first time, you thought it wouldn’t be too bad. It was just a few months, right?

You wrote letters, and you sent emails, and you called just enough to whet your taste for his voice before he was pulled away. You’d do anything for Bradley Bradshaw, and he knew it.

“I just don’t think it’s going to work out.” His words fell from his mouth and shattered on your floor like broken glass. You felt a lump form in your throat, choking you. He was saying the one thing you never wanted to hear. “You know how my job is. I’d never be able to treat you like you deserve. I’m sorry, but we have to break it off.”

A stinging set off behind your eyes, clouding your vision and pulling your eyes down to the floor. You could wait. You would take the crumbs of him that he offered like a starved animal, no matter how long you went without food. Didn’t he understand that you’d have waited lifetimes? That you loved him more than you’ve loved anything? You needed him like air, but he needed you like solid ground; if he was in the water, he could survive without you.

“But I love you,” you protested, “I’d wait.”

He shook his head. He loved you too, and that’s why he left you to fend for yourself.

It took three years for you to find someone else, two years for you to marry them, and one more before you had your first child. She was four when you had your second, a boy. He’s three now.

Twelve years. It took twelve years for Bradley to finally leave your mind. You’re reorganizing your old things, discarding everything from your life before your family. That’s when you happen upon a letter you wrote so long ago it seems like a distant dream, yet so fresh in your mind that you can recite a few lines by memory.

Dear Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw,

I will always love you.

You’re my Achilles heel. I want you so desperately it burns, it burns my throat and my eyes and my heart. I don’t think I can get over that kind of burn.

I’ll move on, though, as I’m sure that’s what you wanted for me. I’ll marry someone. I’ll have children. I’ll have that white picket fence suburban dream, the one where your new neighbors bake you brownies and the sun is just a little too hot all the time. I’ll have a stable life, a nice one. I’ll have a pool and a two-story house. I might even get a dog or three for my kids to play with– a golden retriever trio that came from the same stray litter.

But if you came to me, walked up to my home, and smiled at me through the window, it would be like nothing ever changed. I’m terrified even now that I’ll say your name when my boyfriend wraps his arms around my waist. If you asked me to leave with you, to turn in my divorce papers and lose custody of the children I’ll eventually have, I’d have to think about it. I would have to think about leaving everything I’ve built to elope with you.

What scares me is that I would probably end up doing it.

So, I hope I never see you again, because I don’t want to have to break the hearts of those who love me. And I also hope that if you knock on my door, I’ll have the strength to close it.

Yours truly,

The One Who Would Have Waited.

You set the envelope down on your desk with watery eyes. The worst part about finding the slightly crumpled letter is that it still rings true after all this time, even after you told yourself it held no weight. You’ll forget about the letter eventually, you tell yourself. You’ll forget about the person written in black ink, too.

You have a good life, no one can doubt that. You tell yourself that nothing could be better. But when you think about the love of your life, you don’t think about the person you married.

You think about the man with a mustache who broke your heart so many years ago.

#solar eclipse.#angst #bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #top gun maverick x reader #top gun #top gun fandom #top gun imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun movie #top gun fic

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demonpiratehuntress · 8 months

Note

hi hello dearie, hope this finds you well <3 i’ve been reading some of your Ace content for DAYS cuz is ABSOLUTELY MAGNIFICENT and i have a hyperfixation for the man.

i have this oddly specific request if you’re taking requests ofc asksnakxm

ace and the reader meet each other when he saved her from potentially being killed by some random ruthless and murdering pirate, she was in that situation because he had killed some of her friends but that’s not the issue AKSNWKSB the thing is she gets mad because Ace saved her so she said sum “i was content with the fact that i was going to die, i didn’t need your saving” and he’s just stunned cuz? he just saved her???? two days later she thanks him but she tries to escape many times from the ship and those many times Ace ruined her plans so after a week of trying she gives up. THEN two years later they confess their feelings for each other after a day of Ace following her like a puppy and teasing her nonstop until she gives in

ODDLY SPECIFIC IM SO SORRY 😭😭 but it’s okay if you can’t do it <3

hi! thank you so much 😊 also im so so sorry this took so long! I've just been really busy! but i hope you enjoy this! to everyone else, i am still working on the other requests! i have much more than i realised 😂 but i will get them out...eventually

taglist - @kabloswrld

stubborn

Portgas D. Ace x F!Reader

summary - the ask above! :)

warnings - mild angst

Run.

That's all you could think of, all you could do. There was no time or space to do anything else, and your body had already kicked into the fight-or-flight response. You weren't sure how far you could get, but you were desperate to get away.

The gory images of your friends lying sprawled out on the ground, drenched in blood, made itself a home in your mind. You would never be able to forget that, no matter how hard you tried. Swallowing back a sob, you sprinted towards the town as fast as your tired legs could carry you.

"Where do you think you're going, huh?"

A solid wall of muscle slammed into you from the side and sent you flying. You hit an actual wall with a sickening crunch, pain erupting throughout your entire arm. Dislocated shoulder or broken arm, you couldn't tell which one through the blinding agony. You screamed, more so out of pain than wanting someone to hear. You already accepted your fate, the minute he found you. But that didn't make it any less painful.

"I think I'm going to enjoy this kill the most."

A large hand grabbef a fistful of your hair, yanking you upwards to meet his cold, murderous eyes. He was grinning wickedly, taking pleasure in your pain, and watched you squirm in his grip helplessly.

"If you're going to kill me, just get it over with!" You spat, not knowing where the bravery came from because of the immense pain emanating from your injured limb.

He tutted, "No, you gave me too much trouble. I'm going to make this slow and painful, just for you."

"Now that's no way to treat a lady."

A bright orange light filled your vision, but you couldn't tell what it was as you were suddenly dropped, the man who'd murdered your friends letting out a pained yelp. You lifted your head, dots swimming in your vision, but you were able to make out the familisr form of flames dancing along the man's chest.

"Judging from all the blood on your clothes, I'm gonna guess you went a little crazy tonight," another man was saying, but he sounded childishly amused. "Well, too bad it ends for you right here."

You turned to look at the owner, just as he flicked his wrist and sent more fire the murderous pirate's way. Pretty soon he was engulfed in flames, screaming and pawing at his clothes while trying to extinguish them. You couldn't care less, observing the man who'd saved your life.

He was tall and muscular, pale skin lit up by the ball of fire hovering above his palm. No, wait, his hand WAS the ball of fire. He was shirtless, wearing nothing but black shorts, black boots and a red cowboy hat.

You'd seen him somewhere before...

"Ah, good. I thought that might take a while."

You turned back to the man who'd killed your friends and had been chasing you up until now, only to see a crumpled black heap on the floor a few feet away. Your eyes widened, before you were suddenly lifted up into a pair of strong arms.

"I didn't need your help," you blurted out, "I was ready to die! I didn't want to be saved!" Tears formed in your eyes. You had nothing left. You should have died.

Ace frowned, his heart sinking. Your words brought a familiar feeling back to him, one that he hasn't forgotten but had tried to push away after finding a family in the Whitebeard pirates. He knew what it was like to feel the way you did, and it tugged at his heartstrings to find someone else like that.

Someone who didn't want saving, but desperately needed it.

He's so shocked that he almost forgets you need medical treatment. When he finally remembers, he says nothing and hurries back to the ship with you, his mind racing.

Two days later, your arm is in a sling and you're walking around the Moby Dick looking for the raven-haired commander that saved your life. The crew was friendly enough to you, and Marco had suggested more bedrest, but you wanted to see and thank Ace.

It was true that you wanted to die, yes, but after facing the kindness of someone you didn't even know, your mind had slowly changed. You were starting to feel grateful towards him, grateful for being alive.

"Hey! You're awake!"

You turned at the sound of the cheery man, spotting him coming your way. You relaxed slightly, not sure why you were so tense to begin with but relieved to see him.

"Yeah," you breathed out, "Your doctor works wonders."

"That he does," Ace grinned, before eyeing you up and down, "You look a lot better. I didn't get your name, though."

"Oh, it's (Name)," you told him, "You're Portgas D. Ace, right? Second Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates?"

"That's me. Glad to know I'm popular with pretty women," he flirted, sending you a smile that knocked the air out of your lungs.

You blushed, flustered, "Well I-I just wanted to say...thank you. I hadn't realised it before, but I didn't really want to die. Just thought I had no one left, and nowhere to go. So thank you for changing that."

Ace's smile only grew, so much so you feared it would tear his face in two, "You're welcome! If I'm being honest, I was glad to play hero for a beautiful woman."

Your blush deepened, his charms affecting you in a way that nothing else and no one else ever had. You found yourself at a loss for words, but thankfully he was called away so you didn't have to say anything else.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

The first time you tried to escape, you didn't realise they had a rotational watch schedule. And you hadn't realised that Ace was the one who was on watch that evening.

"Hey, (Name)! Where ya going?"

He smiled at you innocently enough, but his eyes told you he knew exactly what you were trying to do. After all, he'd done the same thing back when he joined. You were just too similar to him.

"Uh...nowhere?" You tried to lie, but you sucked at it. You couldn't even convince a potato if you tried.

"Hmm," he clicked his tongue. "This won't do. Maybe I should just tell Whitebeard, or should I keep this to myself in hopes that it doesn't happen again?"

You agreed to the latter.

The second time, Ace was actually sneaking out of the kitchen with some food when he bumped into you. He raised his eyebrow as your eyes widened, your face giving away your intentions entirely.

He tsk'ed, "Again, (Name)?" He pouted. "You promised, you know."

You sighed and went back to your room, dejected. You could hear him laughing as he walked past your room, and you rolled your eyes as you laid back down to sleep.

The third time, Ace was prepared.

And he had made a trap for you. Which you fell right into, which is why you were now wriggling around in one of the smaller boats, wrestling with a net.

"This is getting old, you know," Ace chuckled as he loomed over you. "Trust me, I know all the tricks. I was you once."

After the fourth and fifth times, you gave up. Ace wasn't going to let you leave, and as the days went by and you got closer to him and the crew, you found your will to leave slowly sapping away. You eventually realised you wanted to stay, having found a family and healed - if only a little bit - with the Whitebeard crew.

One year passed, and you had almost forgotten about the man who'd tormented you. You'd had so much fun with the Whitebeard Pirates, Ace in particular, that you hadn't thought much of the incident. It was getting easier and easier to rid your mind of the gruesome image of your deceased friends month after month. Each adventure left you happier, lighter, and you soon found yourself finding happiness once more.

The pirate life was truly meant for you.

Two years passed, and your time with the Whitebeard crew had become the best of your life. They were practically your family now, and you spoke about and to them as such. You never forgot what happened to you, but you barely thought of it anymore. Not when your head was filled with thoughts about a certain 2nd division commander, with whom you'd fallen in love.

"Ace, stop!" You giggled as he scooped up some batter from the bowl you were mixing it in. You were baking cookies, but Ace was determined to be a menace and sneak in fingerfuls of batter each time you looked away.

"Can't help it," he whined, "It already tastes so good!"

"I haven't even baked it yet!"

"Well then imagine how amazing it'll taste after that!"

You knew he was trying to flatter you to get out of trouble, but you did not care because it was working. And you hated that it always worked, especially with him, because he made your heart race and gave you butterflies.

The days following that included Ace following you around, which you found a little strange since you didn't know why. He would never tell you the reason, always saying something stupid like "you smell good" or "im your bodyguard". You knew he was doing it to tease you, but you couldn't help feeling giddy over the fact that he was choosing to gift YOU with all of his attention.

"Okay, come clean for real this time," you finally approached him one night he was on watch, sitting down next to him. "Why have you been following me around? Teasing me all day, everyday?"

He turned to you, thinking for a moment before speaking seriously for the first time in his life, "Because I'm in love with you, (Name). I didn't want to tell you because I wasn't sure how you'd react or what you'd say, but that's what it is since you wanted to know so badly."

Your eyes went wide, heart thumping like a drum in your chest, "You...you're in love with me?"

He nodded, looking down at his shorts, "I am. These past two years, getting to know you...well, I never really considered the idea of love. But finding you changed that. We're so alike, but also different in ways that complement each other. If that makes sense, I'm not sure it does."

"It does," you smiled slowly, looking out over the water. "And that's really sweet. No one's ever said something so sweet to me before."

"Really? I find that hard to believe, you're so pretty and cute."

Cue the blush, "Yeah, well, I didn't really like anyone before you," you admitted. "Never paid attention to men much, until you barged into my life." You laughed. "You've made me feel so welcome, so comfortable, so happy. You've given me a sense of peace after what happened, and I'm so thankful to you for that. You saved me in more than one way, Ace, and I'm madly in love with you for it."

Your confession took a bit of time to register in his head, but once it did he was smiling goofily and grasping your hand in his. You rested your head on his shoulder, smiling as the two of you spent the whole night holding hands, watching the ocean, and - your favourite part - sharing many heartfelt, intimate kisses.

You were eternally grateful to and for Ace, the man who'd saved you without your permission but eventually earned your heart.

#one piece #op #one piece x reader #one piece x you #ace x reader #ace x you #portgas d ace #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace x you

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fillthattank · 2 years

Text

Heavyweight

A huge thanks to @plumpboybellies for requesting this story, it was very fun to write! Also, a shout out to a few friends for giving me a few ideas (you'll recognize yourselves!). This story wouldn't exist without you!

***

"I want you to move up a weight class," Colton's coach said. "I know you've been playing at this weight for a while, but you have a big frame. You'll be even better with more meat on you."

"How big do you want me?" Colton asked.

Colton was a wrestler. 6'2'', 190 lbs, all of it muscle. His singlet hugged his lean body, highlighting every bit of definition. You could even guess the outline of his abs through the fabric.

"As big as you can? They removed the maximum weight limit a few years ago," Coach said. "Just bulk up as much as possible in the off season, we'll see how it works out after."

Colton nodded. This sounded fun.

"You'll probably have to kiss that eight-pack goodbye, but the extra muscle and all the heavyweight matches you'll be winning should more than make up for it," Coach laughed, slapping Colton's flat stomach.

Like any self respecting jock, Colton had a big appetite, but sticking to his wrestling weight meant he had to keep it under control. Every so often, Colton would overeat, whether it was wanting to impress his friends, having too much fun at a party, or just his stomach having the better of him, and he'd have to go on a brutal diet to cut back down.

This was, starting now, a thing of the past. After his meeting with Coach, Colton went to the nearest fast-food joint, and ordered 3 massive burgers from the get go. He knew he had the capacity, and now he could binge guilt-free.

Colton came back for a 4th. And a fifth. By then, his belly was bloated and stretching his shirt, making a gentle curve from under his pecs. That belly felt good, firm and heavy, a symbol of his newfound freedom.

"You sure about this?" Asked the vendor, as he ordered his 6th burger. Jocks overloading their bellies was a common occurrence, so some concern was natural.

"One hundred percent," he said, giving his bloated belly a good rub. It was starting to feel tight, but Colton knew there was room for at least one more.

Back at his flat, Colton took off his shirt, and checked out his gut. The six burgers had bloated him so much, it stuck out by a good 6 inches from under his pecs. His abs were still visible, making the belly look like a turtleshell.

This would be the last time Colton saw his abs, as he then opened his fridge, and continued his rampage. Chugging milk from the jug, eating an entire tub of grated carrots with the better part of a jar of mayo. Colton wasn't even sure of what some things were, he just ate them, and his belly stuck out even more. Not that he cared. He just wanted as much food as possible inside him.

Eventually, Colton got so bloated he had to lie down. His belly was a perfect ball now, his abs completely smoothed out by the tremendous volumes inside him. As if he'd been blown up like a balloon, except rather than air, it was solid, heavy food. His huge tank hurt, a bit, but it was a good pain. The kind you got after intense exercise, one that comes with a deep feeling of satisfaction.

Colton stayed on his bed for a while, feeling up his tank of a belly, enjoying the fullness. He could have stayed like that all evening, but was this really his limit? He no longer had to keep his appetite under control, he could experiment a bit, right?

Still flat on his back, the bloated jock grabbed his phone from the bedside table, and ordered a pizza. His guilty-pleasure pizza, large and with all his favorite toppings, the one he always ordered when he felt down, or wanted to treat himself.

Waiting for the pizza to come was a haze. Digestion was starting to heat up his belly, to make him feel sleepy. When the bell rang, getting up was harder than expected. His gut was so heavy, his abs were so stretched, his quads working so hard to bear his weight. His stomach like a wrecking ball inside him. Maybe this was too much ?

All doubt vanished when he opened the door and smelled his favorite pizza. Colton felt the delivery guy's gaze on his muscular body and massive belly, giving him an extra confidence boost. He was a jock, and he had the muscle and the gut to eat meals smaller guys could only dream of.

Colton brought the pizza back to his bed, and ate it flat on his back, watching his musclegut rise a little bit with each slice. His stomach had probably reached capacity a while back, the jock now eating by sheer force of will. Pizza being dragged into his monster stomach by muscle memory. The pressure inside his stomach, the weight of all that food, the stretch on his abs, the heat of digestion, it was all one big dream-like haze. It wasn't a new feeling, but the stretching felt like heaven. The jock passed out not long after the last slice, using what strength was left in his tired body to give his bloated belly one final rub. This offseason was going to be fun

Colton woke up still bloated the next morning. He'd eaten so much even his rocket-speed metabolism hadn't been able to digest it all in one night. Weirdest of all, he was hungry. His belly didn't so much feel half full as it felt half empty.

Colton liked this. He made himself the biggest breakfast ever, and ate it all.

This became an everyday occurrence. Colton's belly was constantly bloated, and Colton was constantly eating. Each time his bloat went down a bit, he'd top it back up. And when his belly looked close to the limit, he'd force more food in the tank. He figured out a neat trick, if he rubbed the side of his belly with one finger after it got full, his stomach would be able to stretch a little more, allowing him to eat more.

Colton had no idea how fat he was or wasn't getting, or even what his weight was. He had to be constantly lugging a few dozens of pounds inside his gut, and it was so packed at all times he couldn't tell how much of it was muscle, fat, or just plain bloat.

All Colton knew is that he was indeed getting bigger, and was getting stronger. His arms were bigger, his pecs, his back, his legs, every muscle, actually, though with a big asterisk over his abs. Sure, people stared at him when he turned up at the gym looking pregnant, but their judgement turned to admiration when they saw how much he was lifting, or how much he could put away in just one meal.

The day before wrestling resumed, Colton checked himself out in the mirror. He looked so massive, so beefy, his big round gut looking great on his muscular frame. Colton picked up his singlet, unworn since the end of last season, looking forward to seeing what he'd be looking like for the next few months.

Putting it over his legs proved tough. Even his calves were tight, nevermind his massive quads. Colton painfully got it over his lower body, but when it reached his waist, the singlet blocked. Colton's enormous belly stuck out by about a foot over the girdle, so far out he didn't think he could pull the rest of it up without risking tearing the fabric.

Colton tried to suck in his belly. Tried, and failed. He could barely get it to stick out by a few inches less, and trying to suck it in any further made him feel he was about to throw up.

He stared at his reflection, his singlet hanging around his waist, his belly looking way too big. Maybe he'd taken the eating a bit too far?

Colton decided to fast for the rest of the day. He needed his bloat to go down to fit in his singlet, and anyway, it would be useful to know his actual weight. Never mind that he probably had enough food still in his system to hibernate a whole winter.

The rest of the evening was miserable. Somehow, the many pounds of food inside Colton's enormous belly weren't enough. He now needed to be permanently stuffed. The overbulked jock went out on a run, the first in a while, hoping it would speed up his metabolism and help his belly deflate faster, but it just made him hungrier. And after months of non-stop overeating, falling asleep on a stomach that wasn't stuffed to the limit proved tough.

Out of habit, Colton took a pack of pancakes to eat as he cooked a monster omelette, before remembering. He miserably put the food back in the cupboards, his huge stomach begging him not to.

Getting dressed for his first day back wrestling, Colton found almost everything in his wardrobe was still tight around his belly, even empty. The jock had always liked wearing clothes that highlighted his physique, and had carried the bloated gut as a point of pride all the off-season, but now he felt almost embarrassed. Maybe he'd gone too far, maybe the hunger was just putting him on edge. He settled on a baggy tank top, that was loose everywhere, but that made up by showing off his meaty arms.

Colton was driving to his wrestling practice when he snapped. He passed the same burger place he'd had his first cheat meal at. Remembered stuffing himself, how good it had tasted, how nice his belly had felt. And decided he was so hungry it was probably unsafe to drive.

"You sure about this?" The vendor said, as he ordered one burger. "Don't even want a second, big guy?"

Colton's orders had been progressively getting bigger over his offseason, so this was a sudden change. Still, a second wouldn't hurt?

Colton started eating, and this was the best a cheap burger had ever tasted. He could feel the life force coming back to him as he gorged, as the food flowed into his huge hungry belly. He ordered a 3rd burger, then a 4th, and kept eating more and more. He needed the food. It was a matter of life or death.

The jock returned to his car with his 8 burgers comfortably packed in his big round belly. He'd worry about his singlet when he got there. His belly felt so good. And he wasn't going to perform well if he was too hungry, right?

Stepping into the locker room, Colton noticed he was way bigger than the other wrestlers. Even bigger than he expected. Guys he used to think of as massive, he now outbulked. Some had trimmed down, others had beefed up, but no one had gained as much as Colton, and he wasn't the only one to notice.

"Wow Colt', look at those guns!" said a jock.

"Bro the other heavyweights won't stand a chance," said another, feeling up his biceps and triceps. Because of his loose tank top, his arms stood out the most. And yeah, they had grown a lot bigger.

Colton was more than happy to have all the guys playing withis his big arms. His bulk had been a success, after all. The tune changed, however, when Colton took off his shirt, revealing his massive belly.

"Bro, you got pregnant or what?"

"Damn dude, I know coach said bulk up but damn. It looks like you've done nothing but eat everyday until that belly is past its limit! That's some serious extra heft bro."

Other wrestlers stopped what they were doing, and came up to see Colton's new belly for themselves.

"I ate a lot at lunch time," Colton said, trying to defend himself.

"Yeah, and at breakfast, and at dinner, and a lot of snacking too, everyday. We can tell," one wrestler replied. Colton couldn't think of a come-back, the guy was right.

"Guys just how much do you think we can fit in here?" said one guy, passing a hand over Colton's big belly. "A gallon? Two gallons? Maybe even three gallons? It's really huge!"

The whole wrestling team was around him, playing with his belly, when Coach stepped into the locker rooms.

"You guys never seen a heavyweight wrestler, or what?"

The other jocks stepped back. Coach walked up to Colton, eyeing up his belly. Gave it a few slaps.

"They've got a point, though. This is one big belly," Coach said, giving it a few more pats. "Go get changed, son."

Colton blushed and acquiesced. As the other jocks walked out, Colton pulled his singlet out of his bag. He hadn't eaten that much, only eight burgers, and he'd fasted before, so he was probably going to fit, right?

As last night, it was tight around his legs, the fabric straining over his bulked quads. Getting it over his meaty butt was even harder. It hadn't grown as much as his belly, but he couldn't suck it in, meaning he had to force hard.

Then came the belly. Colton sucked it in as hard as he could, pulled the singlet up, and nothing happened. He just felt really tight around the places he'd already put it on.

Colton relaxed, took a few breaths. Looked at his huge round belly on his beefy frame. The extremely tight singlet around his quads. He checked out his backside in a mirror, it looked vacuum sealed. Still, if he could get it over his butt, he could get it over his belly, right?

The jock breathed out all the air in his lungs. Sucked his gut in so hard he almost felt one of the burgers come back up. The belly still stuck out by a few inches, but Colton could now slowly inch the singlet up over his paunch. By the time he'd gotten his arms through the holes, he'd been holding his breath for so long he was about to pass out.

Colton's singlet was back on, clinging tightly to every bit of his bulked body. So tight, it was as if it had been spray painted on him. His beefy pecs, his quads, and of course his big round belly, prominent even as he sucked it in. A big change from last season.

Pleased with himself, Colton relaxed, breathing normally once again.

crrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaaack

Colton heard fabric tearing. He looked down, and saw his singlet completely torn, his bare belly sticking far out.

"Uh, Coach!" he called out, "I have a problem."

#weight gain story #male belly story #belly story #stuffing story #gainer story #ex jock #fat jock #beefy jock #overeating story #overeating #male belly #bloated jock #stuffed jock #overfed #male bloating #muscle and belly #chunky hunk #beer belly

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