Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

HELLOO HELLOOO

WELCOEM TO THE AGERE ONESHOT BOOK!

IF YOU REQUEST WHEN THEY ARE CLOSED!

YOUR REQUEST WILL BE DELETED!!

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

THIS IS ONLY A

CHARACTER X READER!!!!

it can be char x char x reader or som

BUT IT HAS TO BE READER

i dont want to do agere char

GUEST CAN REQUEST IF YOU WANT!

ANYWAYS

SEBNARRATOR HERE WITH ANOTHER TYPE OF FOOD

THIS TIME

ONESHOTS REQUESTES!!

1 : Fandoms i do

2:no proship!

3:Rules!

4:Agere

5:Special characters

6:How the Requests works!

7: For exemples!

⋆｡°✩₊ °✦ ‧ ‧ ₊ ˚✧₊ °✦

1 : FANDOMS I DO!

-FORSAKEN

-BLOCKTALES

-^_^ (thomas , happy world with happy people , if you know what game i am talking about <3)

⋆｡°✩₊ °✦ ‧ ‧ ₊ ˚✧₊ °✦

2 : thats right!

NO PROSHIP!

NO SMUT

⋆｡°✩₊ °✦ ‧ ‧ ₊ ˚✧₊ °✦

ANYWAYS

⋆｡°✩₊ °✦ ‧ ‧ ₊ ˚✧₊ °✦

3 : RULES!

the usual yk as i said

-NO PROSHIP

-NOTHING TO DO WITH COOLKIDD , BLUUDUD,  PRETTY PRINCESS

except if it isnt sexual

THIS IS CHARACTER X USER!!

-I WONT WRITE r@PE!!

-DO NOT REQUEST MULTIPLE REQUESTS AT ONCE/ in one message! , ONLY ONE PER PERSON WHEN THEY ARE OPEN OTHERWISE ITS NOT FAIR!

if you want to request again youll need to wait until they are open again

anyways ,  more rules may be added but i think thast all!

⋆｡°✩₊ °✦ ‧ ‧ ₊ ˚✧₊ °✦

4:AGERE

-I ALLOW AGERE/PETREG

BUT DO NOT SEXUALISE IT

AGERE AND AGEPLAY

ARE TWO DIFFERENT THINGS!!

DO YOUE RESEARCH!!

⋆｡°✩₊ °✦ ‧ ‧ ₊ ˚✧₊ °✦

5:Special characters

-I can also do Itrapped

(also for some reason , the dream game one is called MAFIOSO , and the forsaken one is called MAFIASO ??)

(if you wish to do a suggestive or smut , then do precise MAFIASO , and not MAFIOSO)

(speaking of forsaken mafioso , you guys can requests the goons! , aka the soldiers , and some of you may know the popular names of them being : gunther , borys , fazio and mael <3)

⋆｡°✩₊ °✦ ‧ ‧ ₊ ˚✧₊ °✦

6 :HOW THE REQUESTS WORKS

simple!

ONLY

CHARACTER X USER/READER/YOU/Y/N

-also i dont do ocs , mostly because these requests are meant for everyone reading (sorry :( )

YOU CAN ALSO REQUEST SPECIFIC THINGS

LIKE TRANS!USER

OR ANY LGBTQ STUFF!

I AM ALL FOR IT!

-you can also requests skins!

(do not requests any of the minors skin , like cashier tho.

-you can request them to be a certain thing for exemple!

: vampire shedletsky , Fae chance or anything like this

⋆｡°✩₊ °✦ ‧ ‧ ₊ ˚✧₊ °✦

7 : for exemple !! 

"Can you give me a oneshot of reader regressing in the middle of a round and chance is here to take care of us ?"

I HOPE YOU GET THE POINT BUT YEAYEAYAE!

IF YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS FEEL FREE TO LEAVE THEM IN THE COMMENTS!!

also dont requests anything weird please </3

⋆｡°✩₊ °✦ ‧ ‧ ₊ ˚✧₊ °✦

(theres probably alot of grammar errors , but since this is an intro i dont think it matters that much!)

ANYWAYS UHH

SPRINKLES!

i hope i didnt forget anything- might have skipped accidentaly some-

Chapter Text

The soft hum of pixelated music filled the room, matching the warm glow of the screen that lit up Griefer’s crib. The familiar blue tint of the racetrack flickered across his monitor, the sounds of engines revving and coins being collected filling the air.

You were nestled up against him, curled in your onesie like a sleepy cat, your legs tucked under you as you held the controller in your hands. Your car swerved across the road in the game, not following any racing logic whatsoever. Instead of going for the win, you were slowly guiding your pastel-pink vehicle toward every little flower patch, sparkly puddle, or oddly-shaped tree that caught your attention. The other racers zoomed past, leaving your car in dead last but it didn’t matter to you.

Griefer let out a long, drawn-out sigh.

“You do realize this is a race, right? Not some botanical exploration sim?”

He glanced down at you, the side of his face resting on his hand, elbow propped up lazily on a pillow. There was no real frustration in his tone. In fact, the corner of his mouth twitched in a fond grin as he watched you make your little detour, guiding your character right into a pond just to see the ripples.

“...You're lucky you're cute, y'know that?”

Griefer reached over, plucked the controller from your hands and then grabbed his own, saving both of you from falling into any more digital lakes. He paused the game. The screen froze mid-splash, your character happily floundering off the track.

“Okay, that’s enough high-speed races for now,” he muttered, letting the controllers fall onto the mattress beside him.

Without warning, his arm looped around your waist, pulling you gently closer until your back was against his chest. The vines on his arms shifted slightly, brushing against your onesie as if adjusting for comfort. The leafy growth that puffed out around his collar was soft and warm, and you instinctively nuzzled into it, letting it cushion your cheek.

“Yeah yeah, I know,” he murmured, his voice dropping a little lower as he rested his chin lightly on your head. “It’s been a long day. You deserve to chill. Even if your driving skills suck.”

He chuckled to himself, running his fingers slowly down your arm. The contact was light, almost ticklish, but soothing in that half-asleep way where everything started to feel hazy and safe. His other hand settled just above your hip, thumb tracing lazy circles through the fabric.

“You always do this, huh? Clingy little thing. Always curlin' up next to me like I’m some big plushie.”

A pause. You shifted a bit to get comfier, and he let you.

“Not complainin'. Honestly, you’re probably the only reason I haven’t lost my mind since that whole... Venomshark mess.”

He sighed again, softer this time, and leaned back with you pressed against him. The bed creaked slightly under the two of you, the quiet hum of the game console still buzzing faintly in the background.

“You look so tiny like this,” he said under his breath, staring down at you. His hand brushed over your arm again, slower now. “Little, huh? Just here for the sparkles and shiny trees.”

He tilted his head, green eyes narrowing a bit as a smirk pulled at his lips.

“Bet you don’t even know what place you finished in. Just vibin’ through the track like it’s your personal garden.”

You squirmed lightly, and he huffed out a laugh, adjusting his grip so he could cuddle you even tighter.

“Okay okay,” he muttered, lowering his head so his chin rested against your shoulder now. “No more teasing. You’re tired, I get it. You’ve been so good today. Deserve all the cuddles you want.”

Griefer paused, then pulled the blanket up a little higher over the both of you. The air in the crib was always a little cooler than he liked, but with you beside him and your soft breath against his neck, it felt perfect.

“Stay here tonight, yeah?” he whispered.

His fingers curled lightly around yours under the blanket, your hands so small in comparison. The leafy fluff on his chest moved a little, expanding and contracting with every slow breath he took.

“Might pretend to be annoyed when you snuggle like this, but...”

He glanced away, his smirk faltering into something far more sincere.

“...I like it. When you do.”

With that, he nuzzled into your hair, letting his own eyes fall shut. His body curled protectively around yours, vines gently shifting to wrap around your ankle and waist like a security blanket.

There were no words needed. The comfort was mutual.

And with the screen still glowing faintly in the background, your car still parked in that sparkling pond, the night went on in soft, leafy silence.

Chapter Text

The kitchen was quiet, save for the soft sound of pages turning. Jim sat at the table, eyes scanning a worn-out baking book he had flipped through countless times before. His fingertips traced over scribbled notes in the margins, little reminders he'd made for himself: "Too much butter last time!" and "y/n said this one was yummy."

He smiled softly, warmth growing in his chest at the thought of you. You had arrived just over an hour ago, suitcase clumsily tucked beside the door, arms flung around him in an embrace that nearly knocked him backward. Long-distance had never been easy, but moments like these made every call, every message, every sleepy goodnight so worth it.

He glanced up, eyes flicking past the edge of the book. His gaze softened.

There you were on the couch, nestled against the cushions with a plushie tucked under your chin. Your limbs moved gently, rocking slightly as you held it up, whispering something only it could hear. Your face was soft, dreamy, your expression filled with the kind of innocent joy Jim had grown to know and adore. It wasn’t just play it was little space.

Jim shut the baking book gently and stood.

"Oh," he murmured, mostly to himself, smile still stretching across his face. "My little one’s gone all small today."

There was no teasing in his voice, only affection. He crossed the room with gentle steps, careful not to startle you. He knelt in front of you, reaching out with a warm hand to take yours. You blinked up at him with wide eyes and a little hum, plushie still held tightly.

"Hey, sweetheart," Jim said softly, voice dipped in syrupy sweetness. "Wanna come help me in the kitchen? I was thinking of making something special for you."

You nodded slowly, your hand wrapping around his. He stood and helped you up with care, steady and slow, like he always was when you were like this. Your feet padded beside him, light and quiet as he led you into the familiar, flour-scented space.

Jim moved with intention, pulling out his ingredients with a small flourish like it was a magic show just for you. He peeked down at you, noticing the way you were staring up at the pictures in the baking book now open on the counter. Your finger pressed against a photo of golden croissants, layers flaked and shining.

"These ones?" he asked.

You gave a firm nod.

"Croissants it is, then! Fancy choice, huh? But hey, you’ve got excellent taste."

Jim chuckled as he began gathering everything he’d need. You stood by his side, reaching out curiously toward a sack of flour. He smiled and gently guided your hands.

"Alright, flour first. Let’s not sneeze into it this time, yeah?"

You giggled, eyes sparkling.

As you both got to work, Jim kept his eyes on you not in worry, but in admiration. You tried your best, hands sometimes fumbling with the measurements, other times proudly pouring something in with an exaggerated "ta-da!" energy. He adored every second.

"Careful, that’s a lot of butter," he said, guiding your hand away with a laugh. "We’re not trying to drown the dough, sweetheart."

You made a little frown face in the flour. Literally. You used your finger to draw two dots and a curved line in the white dusting on the counter.

Jim leaned down, tilting his head.

"Oh no, is that sad flour? What happened to him? Too much butter too?" He grinned, brushing your nose with a little dot of flour. "Don’t worry we’ll fix him with a smile."

As time ticked on, the dough came together under your combined efforts. Jim helped you roll it, fold it, layer it with all the care of a seasoned baker and a doting partner. Each time you got distracted trying to shape the dough into a tiny animal or smooshing it between your fingers like clay he just gently chuckled and nudged you back on track.

"I think your croissant has a tail now," he observed with a laugh. "Maybe it’s a croissaurus. A pastry dinosaur."

The oven preheated, filling the kitchen with that soft warmth, that "home" warmth Jim missed so much when you were far away. As the pastries baked, the buttery scent began to rise, and you sat on the floor near the oven, watching the golden layers puff with fascination. Jim settled beside you, arm draped loosely around your shoulders.

When they finally came out, he placed one carefully on a little plate just for you. He made a show of it, like a waiter in a fancy restaurant, setting it before you with a silly bow.

"For the esteemed little guest," he said, voice playful.

You took a bite, cheeks puffed slightly as you chewed. Jim watched your every reaction, like your happiness was the only thing that mattered.

"Is it good? Be honest five stars? Michelin level? Would you hire me as your personal bakery boy?"

You giggled with a mouthful, and he laughed, his hand reaching to gently wipe a crumb from your cheek.

"That’s the smile I like to see," he murmured, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "You have no idea how much I missed that face."

You leaned into him, head tucked under his chin. He sighed, long and content.

"You’re so small today, huh? My little one, curled up like this. I love when you’re like this... when you let me take care of you. It makes my heart feel all warm and floaty."

His fingers ran softly through your hair as the scent of the croissants still lingered in the air.

"I’m gonna remember this day forever," he whispered. "This exact moment. The flour on your nose, the little faces you made in the counter, the way you hugged that plushie like it was your world. You’re my world, y’know that?"

You nestled closer, limbs limp and content.

Jim chuckled low, the sound buzzing gently through his chest.

"I hope we can have mornings like this all the time someday. Wake up together, make silly little breakfasts, maybe mess up a recipe or two ‘cause you’re trying to make the dough smile. Doesn’t matter. As long as I get to be the one making them with you."

He looked down, watching you yawn with soft eyes.

"You all tuckered out now? That’s okay, sweetheart. We’ve got the whole weekend. I’ll carry you to the couch, we’ll put on cartoons, and you can snuggle with your plushie while I rub your back. You deserve all the softest things in the world."

He paused, lips brushing your forehead again, this time a little longer.

"I love you, my little one. More than words can say. And I’ll be right here, always whether you’re big or small, silly or sleepy, flour-covered or giggling. Always."

Outside, the world kept moving. But in this moment, it was just you and the boy who loved you more than anything.

And it was perfect.