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#young blonde don
radicallxser · 29 days
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pt 2 to this post, can be read as a standalone but makes more sense if you've read the first part. reader isn't wearing a suit but remains pretty androgynous (i think). also yes i included steph's baby fight me idc
not beta read pls don't make fun of me
Why had you agreed to this?
A coworker had invited you to a gala, something about representing the company. You weren't sure why you of all people were asked, or why the coworker, what's his name, was so insistint you attend with him. Especially after he ditched you the moment you both arrived.
You stand awkwardly, swirling the drink you had accepted earlier. A few straggling groups chatted nearby, gossiping about things you didn't care enough to pay attention to. You had better things to think about, like how were you getting home and when you could leave.
Even more important; how was the baby? Was she alright? The sitter you hired wasn't your usual one, but she had vanished without a trace and it was such short notice-
Something, someone, collided with yourself.
"I'm so sorry-" That's what you get for standing near the stairs!
You look up quickly, meeting the gaze of one of the boys you had met the other day. His lips twitch downwards, his eyes focused on the spot where your drink had collided with your clothing. Before you can react, he sets his suit jacket over your shoulders.
"I'm so sorry", he states quickly, opening his mouth to add something else before being cut off by you.
"It's alright, Jason."
His looks shocked for a moment, before his lips turn up into a grin.
"You remembered my name!" He speaks in a town that seems uncharacteristic for him. Pure delight coats his face and he opens his mouth again just to be cut off.
"Jay-Jay! Look what you did!" Another familiar face approaches, a grin adorning the young man's features. He slaps Jason on the back, then turns to you.
"Sorry about my brother." Your brows furrow at this.
"Brothers..?"
"Not by choice", Jason adds quickly, "Atleast, not our choice."
The urge to ask is immediately wiped away as another familiar face approaches, tailed by someone you hadn't met and who's attention was trained on their phone.
The shorter of the two, the one who you had encountered before, spoke up in a clear tone that didn't quite suit his age.
"Father says to quit harassing the guests, Richard, and he'd like to speak with you, Jason."
Jason rolled his eyes. The boy on his phone timidly glanced up, flashing a quick smile.
"Hello", he spoke, then looked back toward his phone.
The shortest of them stared at you, his expression indifferent.
"My name is Damian Wayne. I'd like to thank you for the other day." You smile softly at him, then the realization dons on you.
'Damian Wayne, as in Bruce Wayne's son...?' Your thoughts are yet again interrupted by a voice.
"Boys!"
His voice is clearer in real life, but unmistakably him. You turn, watching one Bruce Wayne approach your small group. His smile seems to light up the room.
He's more handsome in real life, slight crow's feets crinkling near his eyes when he laughs and a shock of gray through his hair.
His arm is looped with a young blonde woman, a baby only a bit older than your own settled in the crook of her other arm. They both smile, stopping in front of you and the boys. Jason's hand suddenly disappears from your shoulder and everyone seems to take a step back.
You smile politely, extending your hand to him.
He takes it, unlooping his arm with the gorgeous woman and bending to press a kiss to it. He feels a pang of anger when he feels the callouses and scars on your hands. Standing straight once again, he grins.
"It's a pleasure, Mx...", your eyes widen when he speaks your last name. How did...?
His eyes trail over your form, then scan the faces of the boys surrounding you. He shakes his head.
"I apologize for their lack of manners. Please, boys, introduce yourselves."
The blonde woman steps forward, smiling at you.
"I'm Stephanie", she adjusts the infant in her arms, taking your hand and giving it a tender squeeze.
You notice Jason taking up a spot directly behind you, standing over you, or atleast attempting to.
"We've been introduced", he speaks gruffly, more to his father than to you. This atmosphere suddenly becomes thick with tension, it makes you shift in unease.
Dick puts himself between Stephanie and Bruce, smiling sheepishly.
"It's Richard Grayson, everyone calls me Dick."
The boy that was previously on his phone snickers, Bruce shoots him a pointed look.
"It's Tim", the boy mutters, immediately piping back down.
Damian takes up the other other side of Bruce and you note thier similar features.
"Well, it's been wonderful meeting you all, but I should be leaving", You smile awkwardly, pulling Jason's jacket tighter around your shoulders.
"Let me treat you to dinner", Bruce speaks almost desperately, then clears his throat, "to make up for my sons' rudeness."
Suddenly you're sat in a limo, stuck between Jason and Bruce.
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ladybirdswritings · 3 months
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Pride & Prejudice - Coriolanus {Young} Snow x Reader
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Summary: You’re birthed into a lively family in dire need of financial stability. As the eldest, you’re paraded around to be married and much to the dismay of your mother, you deny every hand offered. Yet unbeknownst to you, a man of great power and influence, Mr. Snow, is lurking in the shadows, waiting for his chance to have you. Steamy Pride & Prejudice retelling with young snow and you! Alternate universe, au!snow <3
Notes: I hope u girlies eat this up, getting scrapped otherwise </3 — as always, thank u for leaving comments and loves as it keeps me motivated!
next chapter
one
You’d much rather be at any other breathing, standing tower of gold trimmings and cracked pillars in existence.
At any building filled to the brim, simply overflowing with tiered skirts and lively grins… offered hands and gentlemen donned in fine suits, pockets suffocated by their own riches.
Yet you cannot be; for mama has ordered your presence to be most dire and mandatory. Although you did consider fleeing for the highest hilltop or feigning ill, you knew well that mama would find you or see straight through your falsehoods.
“My my, you look as though you’ve got something unsweet taped to your vicious tongue.”
You scowl at the blonde goddess most confusingly known to be your sister, and she only flips a ringlet of gold behind her poised shoulder.
“I think it to be quite clear how dreadful I find this. No need to observe aloud, sister.”
Her mischievous sapphire orbs glow with enjoyment, face pink and flushed — skin glistening under the gold lanterns flickering above.
You’ve watched happily from your seat, she’s sure to have danced with at least twenty men now.
No wonder mama has no fears or worries about Jane. She is just guaranteed to run off and be married within the upcoming season, it only makes for less of a distraction for mama— she’ll be glued to you like quill to paper.
It is not as though men do not want you. Oh, they do. Most ardently.
The trouble is only that you do not want them.
How horrible it is to be confined to four lonesome, frayed walls with nothing more than your books and your wit to keep you company. Married to a man who will most certainly be your senior, who busies himself with trivial matters and leaves you to be cold at home.
You would much rather drown yourself in the river stix than face a fate so melancholic.
You wish to be an odd thing, to run away into a cottage and spend your days parted from the people who surround you. You will read books of men made from dreams and you will find comfort in knowing that you will not be wed to a man who will only discontent you.
Of course, that would bring great shame upon your family, ruin them. So it seems you will end up a spinster or a governess. Both fates, although not as you may hope in your dreams, still offer more joy.
“Forgive me for having fun. It is not why I displease you however, perhaps if you picked your pretty head up from that book and stopped waving the hands that greet you away— you would know this. Mama has sent me. The duke, his sister and a dear friend of his have arrived here. Here! At our party, can you believe it?”
You huff out a sigh laced with annoyance, flipping to the next chapter of the dilapidated thing in your hands.
“No, I truly cannot.” You mutter, yet you cannot spare the fresh page even a glance before it is snatched from your clutched fingers.
A first edition, it shreds from its spine and erupts a gasp from both you and Jane. Mama’s cyan gaze is cold and anxious, feigning a tight smile.
That one was your favorite.
You do not lift your head, you do not notice the three towering men who look down upon your reserved oak wood bench in interest. Mama clutches the duke’s palm in an embrace of suffocation, yet you do not pay it even a little mind as you drop to your knees in your pretty dress to find the strayed page.
“My god, where are your manners — girl! Please do not pay her rudeness any attention, she gets sickly over these things. Sweetheart, up now— we can buy you another.”
Her voice is cold, devoid of any admiration. It is a lie, too. Your family cannot afford even a singular chapter of a new novel, let alone a first edition. You should be the one plagued by frustration, yet you feel as though it is you who is doing something wrong.
Even so, your eyes search the floor with great fervor, landing on a polished leather shoe which suffocates chapter twelve.
You wince, preparing all the words you can to kindly request the stranger lifts his big foot off of your paper. Yet they dissipate in the back of your throat.
The man, he bends at his knee as he frees the old thing from his sole. Your eyes lift to greet him, then.
He is a mess of blonde locks, unruly compared to that of the others with hair long enough. Theirs are tamed with ribbons, his only sits atop his head. His eyes are a cold color, one you cannot explain. They are commanding, fueled with great intensity.
Beyond all of this?
He looks most certainly miserable.
He does not wish to attend tonight, one glance proves this.
He spares you no words as he passes you the paper, eyes locked upon the contents of it. He offers you a hand of assistance, too.
You ignore it, wincing at the disgust your mother expresses.
You need no aid as you lift to your feet and dust the old thing off, he follows you — becoming a tower taller once he stands.
Jane, you are grateful now that she is still here. She laughs most uncomfortably, placing a polite hand upon your shoulder as she snatches the page away. Far more gently.
“My dear sister, may I introduce you to your grace — sir Sejanus Plinth of Newbury. Alongside him, his sister — Grace Plinth and their dearest friend, Coriolanus Snow, also of Newbury.”
You know well that you’ve just about boiled a vicious pot of scorching water, one you’ll have to face the many consequences of. A quick glance stolen toward mama proves it.
With a soft sigh, you curtsy to the men before you. A show of respect which you most certainly do not have for them. They are just as unimportant as the others, grand status or not. Including the miserable looking blonde with cold eyes.
“Lovely to meet you. This is truly a grand gathering you’ve all put together…” Sejanus offers with a smile of pearl. You peer up at him, his eyes stealing quick glances at goddess Jane.
Mama goes off on a tangent about how much she adores hosting gatherings as much as attending them — and it’s all a mere buzz in your ears.
Your eyes shift toward the sister, Grace. She’s scowling at you… how peculiar.
“Jane, forgive me if this is far too forward but — I would be most honored to be the last dance you partake in this evening.” Sejanus swallows back his nerves, wincing at the sound of his own voice. Sweet Jane doesn’t bother torturing him, she only nods a shy head.
“Oh, come Grace! I must show you how my youngest daughter performs on the grand piano!”
You feel poorly for the scowling girl who is whisked away by mama. Jane and Sejanus follow alongside them, but part as soon as the music begins.
Both of your palms come to a clasp— shifting weight on your heels as you watch Jane twirl and giggle a golden sound, so beautiful you are certain it could bring each and every single gentleman in attendance to their knees.
Well, except the miserable Mr. Snow.
Your eyes drift to him then — and you catch his gaze already locked upon your stature. He averts it hastily, staring at what looks to be the far wall after he is caught.
Does he plan to lurk here like a shadow’s phantom for the entirety of the evening?
“Do you dance, Mr. Snow?”
His jaw is a sharp — tense thing. It clenches in surprise at your voice. He doesn’t spare you a glance as he answers.
“Not if I can help it.” Is but all he offers before returning to a miserable state of silence again.
By god, to garner more than a mere word is equivalent to the act of tugging teeth loose. You purse your lips, turning your head away to find another question you could offer.
You do not bother, however.
For the first time in all your life, in all the seasons you’ve suffered — you wish to dance. Not because you find it to be fun or any more stimulating than a novel but; rather because you would be far more joyous away from him.
Beyond this, it would make mama less angered when the gathering reaches its end.
You do not offer him a word of parting before you plunge into the lively crowd. A man with blonde locks, not quite as icy as Mr. Snow’s own tousles, offers his hand.
You lose yourself in the rhythm, pretending to be that of a girl in one of your novels. Whisked away by a mysterious, dancing stranger who offers more than just a meaningless hand.
You pretend the blonde is to be a grand lover, one who will care for you beyond material needs. Beyond what is expected and a bore.
You pretend, and when the song ends — so does each and every one of your mindless fantasies.
To normality once again…
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mydearlybeloathed · 5 months
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I loved your fic where the reader is Sanji's little sister!! I could do more of this but with something more angst? (I'm crazy about angst, forgive me 😭😭😭)
𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍
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𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you would have thought your birthday would keep zeff and sanji from bickering—well, you thought wrong.
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sanji x littlesister!reader
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.7k
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: pre-opla, reader is sixteen atm, swearing, reader is at the end of her rope
𝐚/𝐧: you're forgiven anon i also enjoy my fair share of angst 🥰
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Turning sixteen had never been so awful for anyone in the entire world. You felt for certain of that.
The water of the sea lapped at your bare feet, dangling off the docks of the Baratie. Silence sat over everything, the moon hung high above you. You kicked at the water, angry at it for some reason, and scoffed at the face of the world.
You swore that if you listened hard enough, you could still hear Sanji and Zeff fighting all the way in the kitchens. The sound of their shouting had driven you out here into the fresh sea air, but it hardly helped the frustration welling up in your gut.
When you heard the footsteps coming up behind you, half of you hoped it was Sanji, coming to apologize and wish you a happy fucking birthday. 
You peered over your shoulder to find Patty looming over you, a plate in hand. “Hey, kid.”
“Hi,” you murmured, slouching back over as he knelt down beside you. 
You glanced over as he set the plate beside you, grinning a bit at the slice of cake. “How’s the birthday?”
Scoffing, you said, “Shitty. Per usual.”
Patty pursed his lips, sighing out his frustration, cursing the two idiots who’d driven you out here on your birthday. Still, he looked out at the sea, and told you, “He’s looking for you.”
“I’m sure he is.”
“Zeff is too.”
“They took a break from their precious bickering?” You couldn’t help but roll you eyes. “I’m frickin’ honored.”
The chef nudged your shoulder before rising to his feet. “Come on. It’s getting cold.”
You hugged your legs, having no intention of moving. “I’ll freeze.”
“Aww, don’t go all moody teen on me.” Patty half grinned. “I’m barely surviving Sanji.”
Turning your face away from him, you fought down the tears welling up in your eyes. “Go away, Patty.”
The longest moment past, before his footsteps retreated back into the Baratie, and you were left alone. Another birthday down the drain. And all you’d wanted was to spend time with your little family.
જ⁀➴
Patty walked back into the kitchen, brows taut and frown evident. He threw open the doors and glared at the young blond boy who whipped around.
“We’re not rea—”
“Your plan didn’t work,” Patty snapped. “She’s pissed.”
Zeff appeared from around the corner. “So she’s not coming?”
Patty deadpanned, somehow fighting the urge to slap him, if only because Zeff was his boss. “No. She’s not coming.”
Sanji and Zeff turned to each other, each donning an expression of awkward guilt. Sanji sighed. “We messed up.”
“No kiddin’,” Zeff scoffed.
And Patty rolled his eyes, moving to finish setting up this little party. “I’ll finish up.” He glared over at Sanji. “You go fix this.”
“Why me?” Sanji had the nerve to ask. 
“She’s your kid sister!” Patty gritted out. “And this was your bright idea! Let’s start fighting even though we know it makes her sad so we’ll have time to throw a surprise! Yeah, great idea. Now she’s wallowin’ on the docks.”
Your brother’s face fell, the image painted for him flashing across his eyes, and he hated it. This was a bad idea, after all. He’d just wanted to surprise you, but you were too quick for that these days. Sanji thought it’d be fine… “Shit.”
He was halfway through throwing off his apron when Zeff dropped everything and beat him to it. He set a heavy hand on Sanji’s shoulder and shoved him back toward the half decorated cake. “I’ll handle it. Just don’t fuck up the cake with yer shaky hands.”
Sanji stumbled into the counter, eyes narrowed, but he didn’t bother arguing. So Zeff trudged out of the kitchen, face sullen, wondering how the hell he’s supposed to console a teenage girl.
He’d figure it out, he hoped. He was a pirate after all, and pirates don't get scared. Then he stepped out into the midnight air and spotted you swinging your legs off the dock.
Pirates don’t get scared. Except, maybe, of their upset daughters.
You heard him before you saw him, tensing up as the sound of Zeff’s peg leg hobbling up behind you. You didn’t say a word and stared out at the crisp black waters, not knowing why he even bothered as he plopped himself down beside you, moving your untouched plate of cake to the space behind you.
“Hey, Pip,” he started, testing the waters.
“‘Sup.” You were irritated, that’s for sure, but not completely shut off. If you wanted him to go, you’d have said so already, or punched him or jumped into the water or something like that. Zeff didn’t pretend to understand youth these days. Typically, your silence was a good sign.
If Zeff knew you at all, and he ought to after all these years, he’d wager you didn’t want to be alone at all.
His peg leg kicked up some water, disturbing the peace. “You cold?”
It was the warmest night the sea had seen in some time, and he expected you to snap back that it was a stupid question. But you just shifted away and muttered, “Nope.”
Maybe you weren’t as open to talking as he’d thought.
“Listen,” he huffed. “I’m sorry. We both are. It’s just, you know how he gets…”
Your sudden glare shut him up, the set in your jaw a tad bit worrying. “I know how he gets, Zeff. But I still wouldn’t throw a pan at him on your birthday.”
Touche. 
Zeff grimaced. Maybe he overdid it a bit. “Yeah, I’m sorry ‘bout that.”
“Whatever.” You started to tug at your hair, and Zeff noticed how you’d ditched the ol’ pigtail braids. Now, your hair was pulled back into a single braid a bit on the messy side. There was a white ribbon tying it off. 
His stare turned an odd sort of soft, one you didn’t catch often. You glanced up at him quickly, unnerved. “What?”
Zeff didn’t answer right away, choosing to instead take a breath and savor this moment. But you grew impatient, eyes narrow. “What is it, Zeff? Have I got somethin’ on my face?”
Oh, how to explain. How was Zeff to explain just what he thought of you?
You’d surely grown from the little demon who’d bitten him and left a nasty scar on his arm—grown into not so much a demon, but a woman with just the same fire. On odd days he longed for the times when you were small and thought the world of him. When you would come to him for anything and everything. 
When you slipped up and called him “Dad.”
That never happened anymore. You were careful now.
You were growing too fast. If he could hide how awful the world was from you, he would, but it was too late. You were giving up on learning the ways of a chef and instead leaning toward waiting tables, learning to pickpocket like a seasoned criminal when you thought no one was watching. And with every passing day Zeff could see that starvation for something more grow brighter and brighter.
Sometimes he wondered if allowing you to work in his restaurant had been a mistake—he had a rule against women working in such a dangerous establishment as his could be, after all—but you were long past the age of listening to a word Zeff had to say. You and Sanji were alike in that manner.
Zeff shook his head. How did he explain how he had thought he’d been so strong until the day you’d come red faced to him, no older than nine, with just a skinned knee. You weren’t crying, not ever letting a tear fall, but you wanted to, he saw it in your eyes. 
The former captain of the Cook Pirates had felt so strong until he had no clue how to fix what was wrong. 
Zeff hated kids. He hated them, but you and that eggplant of a boy had become exceptions. The pair of you, as frustrating as you could be, had weaseled your way into the old man’s heart. He thinks he’d do just about anything for you, specifically.
How could Zeff begin to explain how much it scared him that his daughter was getting older?
“Zeff?”
“Sorry,” he said. “Got lost a bit.”
You lowered your gaze and shifted, reaching behind you to pick up the cake. There was a singular bite taken out of it. You messed around with the fork. “Patty made this?”
Zeff nodded. “Think so.”
“It’s good. You could do better,” you grinned, setting the plate back down. You’d finish it off later; you never dared to waste food. 
“Yeah?” Zeff chuckled. “Probably.”
You kicked at the water again. “I haven’t decided if I forgive you yet.”
“As expected. Just don’t take too long.” After a moment of thought, and an observation at how you returned to your surly demeanor, he made a decision. “We’ve got somewhere to be.” Zeff turned away the moment you whipped your head around to give him that curious look of yours. 
“What do you mean?” you asked, skeptical.
“Can’t say. It’s a surprise.” He rolled his eyes. “Sanji’s been insistent on a surprise for days. You’re too nosey to keep secrets from, so we needed to get you out of the kitchen…”
He waited for the realization to sink in, and then you were punching his arm with a gasp. “No way! No way you were faking! You’re the worst!” You couldn’t decide between being angry or amused, letting out a laughing scoff at their complete idiocy. “I was about to cry, you bastards!”
Zeff couldn’t help it. He laughed—no, cackled whilst he gently blocked your tiny fist. “Language, Pipsqueak.”
You raised your middle finger and fought hard to hide your growing smile. “I don’t believe you. You’re just covering for yourselves. That fight was real.”
“Or we’re just that skilled at actin’,” he countered. He did admit that after a minute the argument was more real than not. “It was his idea.”
“Zeff.”
“We meant well.” He rerouted his defense. “He’s been going on and on ‘bout this surprise—”
“That you’ve now spoiled.”
“I had to! I wasn’t gonna deal with his moping when you never showed.” You started to protest, making him scoff. “You weren’t gonna show. You’re stubborn.”
You huffed, lunging over to scoop up the sea and splash it in Zeff’s face. The old man sputtered before he reached out a hand and pushed you into the water with barely a shove. You squealed and sank under the water, coming up gasping as thinly veiled hilarity broke past your anger.
Flapping around in the water, you gaped up at Zeff as he wheezed, barely able to get enough air through his laughter. Your own laugh bubbled out of you. “What the fuck, Zeff?”
“You–you started it!” He was still catching his breath, eyes crinkled. “Didn’t mean to push you in.”
Like you believed him. Rolling your eyes, you held out a hand and awaited your rescue. The old man stood to his mismatched feet and gripped your wrist, hoisting you up. You were airborne for at least three seconds with the momentum of his pull, giggling as your feet touched the dock again. 
“I should tell Sanji you ratted him out,” you mused as the night air hit you, shivers running up and down your spine. 
“You won’t,” he said, though there was a slight hope in his eyes that you really were bluffing. You were, of course. As much as you fought with Sanji, you would never dare to ruin his fun—and if planning a surprise for you was fun for him, so be it.
“I won’t,” you agreed. “But I should.”
You started back into the Baratie, crossing your arms tightly to condense what was left of your body heat. Zeff fell into step beside you, his chef’s coat draped over your shoulders not a second later. Stepping inside wasn’t an escape from the cold; if anything, the chill grew worse. 
As much as you hated being cold… you were curious as to what Sanji had cooked up. 
So you braved the frigid walk through the empty dining room, weaving in and out of tables and chairs, and rushed ahead of Zeff to enter the kitchen first. You gave the doors a shove and came face to face with a platoon of balloons bobbing around the ceiling. 
Little purple flowers poked out of various crystal glasses. A sweet smell filled the room. You froze in the doorway, taking it all in, and noticed Sanji at the counter, finishing off the icing on a small cake. He glanced up and blew his hair out of his face, a smile splitting onto his face when he saw you.
“Pip!” His eyes ran you up and down, confusion clouding his blue eyed gaze. “What happened to you?”
You let out a huff and slipped your arms into the too big coat. “Went for a swim.”
Zeff chuckled suspiciously and swept toward the cake, inspecting it briefly. “Just like I said. The icing’s uneven.”
Sanji threw down the icing. “It is—”
“Stop!” you shouted. “I swear.”
That shut them up, each of them rolling their eyes. Children, you thought. Taking another look around, a little smile grew on your face. “Is it someone’s birthday?”
For a moment, Sanji’s confidence faltered, as if he was really questioning what day it was, before he caught your sly grin and relaxed. “Only yours, so I really don’t know why I bothered with all this.”
“Ouch,” you laughed. The kitchen was empty save for you, Zeff, and Sanji. It reminded you of quiet nights similar to this one, back when the Baratie was in its early years. Back when Zeff and Sanji didn’t fight as much as they did now. 
In the gentle quiet to follow, you did admit: growing older wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. 
You blinked and Zeff had lit a candle and poked it into the top of the cake, causing Sanji to grumble at how he’d messed up the swirl design he’d crafted. Zeff ignored him and bumped your shoulder. “Too old to make a wish?”
“As if.” You were almost offended he’d asked, leaning forward to blow out the candles, squeezing closed your eyes and uttering a wish in your head. When you were done, Sanji gave you a questioning look.
“So? What was it?”
Every year he asked, and every year you shook your head. “Can’t say. It’ll break the magic.”
The night grew old, as night always does, and it aged with laughter and thrown icing and sleepy eyes, before it died to make way for the sun. And by then, you and Sanji were passed out on piles of flour sacks, side by side and snoring in tune. 
The Baratie was to open in five hours. In one hour, the chefs would file in to prepare for the breakfast run. For now, though, there was peace as Zeff pulled up a stool to the countertop and observed the pair with increasing, sickening fondness. 
The plan had never been to raise two of the possibly most difficult children on the seas… but now that you weren’t children anymore, there was a significant amount of pride welling up in Zeff’s chest.
He knew neither of you were destined to remain at the Baratie all your lives. To keep you there was to imprison you. Someday, you and Sanji would leave this place, and Zeff could only hope it wouldn’t be tomorrow as each day came to a close. 
And someday, a year down the road, his hope would be in vain as the next morning your annual birthday wish was granted in the form of a grand ship with the masthead of a goat—the ship that would sail you and Sanji away. 
But that was a year away, and no one knew of what fate had in store. You only knew that maybe turning sixteen wasn’t so bad.
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bluecollarmcandtf · 8 months
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The New Normal
A week ago, our reality shifted. Every hardened construction worker across the globe threw on his hardhat, leather gloves, and steel-toed boots to march onto the job site, but they didn't put much else on...
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It just seemed so normal to them. They all woke up one day and didn't feel any need to dress anymore after donning their tightest underwear. Wearing nothing but undies to work was not out of the ordinary in any way. Everyone knows that construction workers have to work in their underwear.
It's how they beat the heat.
All the workers have embraced the new cliche, exposing their meaty muscles and sweaty body hair to the entire city. The only thing a passing civilian sees is the new stereotype. Everyone is desensitized to the sight of barely clad men lumbering around and sweating all over the machinery.
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Most people jeer and catcall the manual laborers. After all, it's completely normal for the blue-collar workers to be the ones getting harassed by others on the street. Construction workers hate when all the businessmen roam the city to whistle and holler gross things their way.
"Hey, brick-pig!" a young executive yells as he passes the sweaty worker, "That tool between your legs seems a bit small. Let me know if you need a real man for the job!"
The hairy laborer turns his head to ignore the comment, but he jumps as a hand pinches his ass.
"Just had to cop a feel," another suit admits with a laugh before sauntering off.
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Those white-collar jerks made every day difficult for them, but no one was worse than the gays.
For reasons no construction worker understood, homosexuals completely intimidated them now. It didn't matter how masculine or brawny the laborers were, everyone's legs shook when a twink walked onto the site.
"Hey, daddy," a skinny blonde boy purred, slinking his way towards the biggest worker.
"Hey," the man's gruff voice came out as a nervous whisper. He could barely even meet the twink's big blue eyes.
"Why don't you tell your boss you're done for the day," he sang, fixing his frail palm over the bulge between the man's legs, "You're coming back to my place."
Scared to disagree, the brawny construction worker shuffled away and found the contractor to explain that had to leave. He just couldn't bring himself to stand up to that fruitcake. The boy was obviously gay, but he hoped the kid would let him go after a quick blowjob. Hopefully, the guy wouldn't be too pushy with him.
The rest of the crew averted their eyes and continued their work. They didn't want the homo to call them out too.
It's terrible to constantly have eyes on their bodies; they cringe at all the comments about their fat asses; and they are tired of accidentally ripping their tight underwear when they bend over. The new work uniform is not a favorite for any construction crew, but no one can really imagine dressing another way.
It's the new normal.
619 notes · View notes
iouinotes · 3 months
Text
Good gone bad | Coriolanus Snow
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pairing: young!Coriolanus Snow x female!reader
movie: Hunger Games: The ballad of Songbirds and Snakes
warnings: dark!character, smut
word count: 3,8k
summary: You are childhood friends and very close with him. When his behaviour starts to change for the worse, you try your best to hold on to his real-self.
a/n: I adored Snow the first half an hour, because he was a gentleman and cared so much! Then his character became dark, obsessive and murderous and it really was a game changer...but I definitely want to read the book, so I can describe his character in my following stories better!
part 2 here
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"I will call my new discovery just like you, Mr. Snow. The best student and the future of this world. No one will stand in your way, when the blizzard blows over the people. And because it will work so well for your little infatuation, it will function for every other naive creature too."
❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️
"Coryo!" I shot his name across the hallway, when I see his blonde locks, ignoring the looks from my classmates around me. At the sound of my voice, his head turns in my direction and I run faster towards his figure. As soon as I catch up with him, I meet his curious eyes and look further down to his smiling lips.
"Good morning to you too. Let me guess, you have something really important to announce or are just very happy to see me." Holding the door open for me, I try to catch my breath, wanting to ignore the lovely tone of his voice and the way he looks so outstanding beautiful.
"Well, both, but I heard some gossip about the upcoming ceremony tomorrow. Details who is gonna get the scholarship." Now, while entering the room, I have his full attention.
When I heard about the changes, that were made I immediately searched for him, clearly knowing how much he was ready to sacrifice for this academic possibility.
As he stops walking and places his hands on my shoulders, stopping me in my foodsteps and searching my gaze, I feel my pounding heart.
God forbid this man to look at me this way.
As I try to avoid his intense glare, his hands gently move to my cheeks to focus my eyes on him. I feel myself blushing, fiddling with the rings, that are attached to my fingers.
"No time for jokes, please. What do you know?" I clear my voice, trying to ignore our close gap or the way his curls lay on his forehead and how his skin shines beautifully in the light- No, wait. Not good. We're just friends. I don´t like him that way. Nope.
"I- uh, so please don´t freak out on me, but rumor says it's not up to the student with the best grades to get the scholarship..." I watch his posture straighten, see the how his facial expression turns blank and the irritated change in his mood. And I promise you, it´s not good.
When he lets go of me to strike forward, I try to hold him back. "Wait- you are angry and disappointed, so talk to me first before you let your emotions out on the others, okay?" I catch his left hand and hear his upset breathing.
"It's just- you know, more than anyone, that I deserve this scholarship the most! And now the only possibility to help my family and to become successful are at risks, because someone decided to change the rules? God, I worked my ass off to be the one they choose and now I'll probably get laughed at, cause I didnt get it!" I nod, trying to calm him down by listening to his outburst.
"You do deserve it, I know that. But you still have the chance to stand out more than the others. You are intelligent and brave, very ambitious and you care a lot. Not only for your family and friends, but for everyone. You are the best candidate and if they don´t choose you, then it is the wrong decision. Because they need someone like you. Just like I need you, believe me." I hold his hand close to my heart, trying to convince him of his abilities and his good heart, to show him that he deserves every recognition he gets.
And it works, because he relaxes slightly and after another second passes, I feel myself being embraced in a tight hug. His hand holds the back of my head and I hear his quiet "thank you".
"Always, blue. I am here for you." His lips linger for a second on my forehead, the kiss leaves me feeling warm and in love.
Even if I try to deny it.
"It's been a while, since you called me that nickname." I look in his eyes, when he pulls back. Admiring the shining blue that follows my dreams.
I only smile at him, shrugging when we have a normal distance between us, that helps me to concentrate again.
"It slipped out, I guess. But you are right, the last time I called you that, we were in primary school. How fast the time goes." Nodding we gently smile at each other and I clear my throat, when I get more and more enchanted to him.
We have known each other for so long, but nothing has changed about us.
Expect my feelings for him. They seem to never go away.
So, when I step forward and his eyes follow me, I start to walk to class again.
"Come on, we're being late. The greatest student of all time does not come late." He shakes his head, smiling at me and when I feel for a moment that something is different between us, I brush it off.
When he's finally catching up with me, I order my thoughts.
Don't fall in love with him.
Pretend, you didnt fall in love with him.
❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️
I am good at pretending, really. It normally helps me to focus on the important things in my life, for example school, my grades, studying and getting accepted by a college. Did I mention, my academic success needs to be excellent?
But now, the only thing I can concentrate on is him. And I can hardly pretend, not for much longer, that I am not in love with him.
Because his life is in danger, now that the Hunger Games have started and he is the mentor of the tribute of district 12, a girl named Lucy Gray, everything is different.
He is different.
I know him long enough, that I see how much he cares for her. And because I'm good at pretending, I can see right through his actions.
He maybe likes the girl, but even though he tries to hide it, he cares more that he is the victor in the end.
And that is something that I find quite odd. I mean, he always wants to win, wants to be the best and on top or ahead of everyone. But he was always fair, human and supportive.
But his behavior changed as the days passed. Of course, it's obvious that the violence and torment that the game brings with changes you. More for the worse, than the better.
But it's not only the pressure he is under or the tension that he feels, because he needs the girl to win. It's something different and I notice that none of this is doing him any good. Especially for his heart.
Because he is being distant, he talks less, smiles less, is acting like a person I don´t even know anymore.
And it scares me, it hurts to see him losing himself in the process of being successful.
The last time we talked, he said something to me that left me awake all night, thinking about the decisions and sacrifices he has to make to achieve his goal.
He said: "I will become president and when I am on top, the world will be as cold as the snow in the winter. Nobody will oppose me."
It scared me. He scared me.
And maybe it was the change of his behavior or the cold look in his eyes, with which he looked at everyone or maybe it was because I started to fear him, that I distanced myself from him.
And even though I thought, he wouldnt notice, he did.
And it made everything complicated.
He tried to approach me, talking and joking like we always did, but it wasnt the same. Because he wasnt the same. Even though the color of his eyes was still as bright as the sun, the way he looked at me hid something that was as dark as the night.
I didnt know how I felt anymore.
Because when fear is equal to love, do I fear him then?
I guess I did and it made me sick in the stomach. He lied, he betrayed, he murdered, he did things, I would hate anyone for.
He did things for that I started to hate myself, because I couldnt hate him. Not when he really was the victim in this cruel world, even when he presented himself as the victor.
But for me, he didnt win. Because he rather lost something.
My trust for him.
And that made him angry, so much that he started to manipulate his way into my life again, when I decided that I didn't want anything to do with him anymore.
At first it would be small things. He continued opening the door for me, even though I didnt walk to class with him anymore.
He always saved me a seat next to him, although I decided to sit somewhere else. Then he started bribing the teachers, so that I had to do my assignments with him, he started showing up by almost every place I would go to.
He would give me roses that I wouldn't accept or visited me at work, always with a smile on his face. But I could tell it wasn't real.
He wasn't his real-self after all. He pretended to be someone else and I couldnt trust this new version of him.
He cut his hair short, nowadays wears expensive and neat clothes, always speaks in a formal voice and does polite gestures.
Small smiles, fake laughs, adoring looks which he uses to hide his real intentions behind a facade.
He enchanted the whole world.
But his magic didn't work on me and he became more and more aware of it as the days went by and I continued to ignore him.
And then, on one evening he visited my dorm and before I could close the door, he stood in my apartment and said something, I will forever keep in mind. His presence began to feel like a short movie, captivating me with each encounter.
"I know that you don't like the way things are now. But I am doing this to maintain peace, to keep the people in the place they belong. And I want you to know, that you just need to understand my actions and start to trust me again."
As he spoke, he started to walk towards me, looking me in the eyes, trying to convince me. I had no way out, all I could do was to back up until I hit the wall and he was standing right in front of me. Starring at me, like I needed to be on his side.
I tried to avoid his gaze and the deep blue that somehow always successfully convinced me. Until now.
"Please look at me, I´m telling you the truth. You know me, I´m still the same guy. Why don´t you believe me?" His hands brush my cheeks, roughly holding my face in his hands to keep my eyes on him.
It wasnt new to me that he loved to manipulate. I overheard some of his lies, the hidden betrayal of his own best friend and I couldnt be sure, that he wouldnt do the same to me too.
The only thing I knew was that his striving for power was taking over his being and I seemed powerless to do anything against it.
"I can´t trust you anymore, Coryo. You are acting different and all the things you did-" his face gets closer to me and my heartbeat becomes faster the less distance there is between our faces.
I can´t deny it.
He looks so beautiful.
Even though I want to talk, he leaves me speechless. As if the cold blue of his eyes froze me into a stature, that can only listen to him.
"Everything I did was for you. I know you love me, always have and always will. But you don't admit it to yourself, you don't want to admit it. I know how you feel for me, sweetheart and you have no reason to stop loving me now."
His words are like magic, his eyes like a hallucination, that everything is fine. His hands so warm and familiar that it's hard for me to remember the bad things he did.
That he's trying so hard to make me forget about.
His fingers move around my neck, his body comes closer to me until we touch, until I can only see him and only he matters.
His face is so close to mine and my eyes flutter - out of fear or anticipation, I don´t really know - until I feel his breathing on my ear.
"If you just let me make you remember the old time. Everything we did, the fun we had, how much we trusted each other. How much I still care and appreciate you. Stop thinking and let yourself feel."
His lips touch my skin and I have to suppress a whimper. I can breathe in his scent, his hands around me confuse my thoughts. My dreams from back then, imagining being able to have him, love him and touch him - they make me insecure about my decisions.
I wanted him for such a long time, that it now seems impossible for me to actually call him mine.
But coming to my senses, realising he is no longer the sweet gentleman I fell in love with, I want to stop him, by holding my hands out to push him back. However his hands react quickly and enclose mine with a firm grip to press them against the wall.
"No, listen to me. I never told you, but I heard you dreaming about me once. You whispered my name, like your heart longed for me, in a way you would never be able to truly understand your feelings for me. Like I am the god you pray for and I promise you, if you would just let me, I would fulfill your every wish. Because, together, you and me, we can become holy in our own, untouchable way. "
When I try to shake my head, his hands change so that one of them is holding both of my hands and the other one is grabbing my face.
"Don´t fight against me, darling. It wont work. You know it, I always win."
And as his hands hold my chin and I can hear my loud heartbeat, his lips meet mine in a wild kiss, clearly showing me the control he has over me.
And it's addicting, but so so dangerous.
His lips are soft against my own and he roughly kisses me, like he's the devil trying to steal my soul.
His body feels warm against my own and I'm weak for a moment, gently kissing him back, enjoying the way he smiles at my reaction.
His kisses becomes more heated, his hands are roaming over my nightgown and his fingers caress the exposed skin. Everything feels too good to be true.
But I can´t let myself enjoy this, I need to focus.
"No- Coryo. We cant-" I try to studder, breaking the kiss and hating the way he makes me feel. Because I feel so good, like only he can make me feel this way.
When I interrupt our kiss and while I try to assert myself against him, I notice his anger becoming more and more obvious.
"What I do is only to make you happy, why dont you understand? I want to see you happy and because of that, I have to do certain things. Just like now." His intense gaze is focused on me.
Without being able to do anything, I suddenly feel a liquid on my skin, that first makes me shiver because of the cold, but in the next second, I feel as hot as if I was standing in the desert and would be dying of thirst.
His touch begins to feel like the only solution and I want more. So, I lean into his touch and literally melt against his body as his lips brush mine.
"Fascinating, as Dr. Gaul said. It becomes one with the skin and intoxicates the senses." He whispers, but I can't figure out what he means by that. The only thing I can concentrate on is him. Why was I here again?
"You need me. You said it yourself, I'm here to remind you." His voice is quiet and I feel my thoughts dissolving. Only the sight of him remains in my head.
His look, those beautiful blue eyes, they distract me and I can´t ignore the desire that his lips are about to meet mine again. We're just centimeters apart and even if I try to stop it, my emotions change. I stop thinking about all the things he did.
Instead, all I can think about is his touch, his lips. And now that I know the ghost of his touch, I wouldn't want anything else.
So, I lean myself forward and kiss him.
It feels like my insides burns with desire, something that is so indescribable, that I don't even know, if I'm capable of feeling this love for too long.
My hands move to his shoulders and to his head, but my control is quickly suppressed as he pushes me back against the wall. So that I almost can't move.
His fingers lift my chin up, I see him grinning smugly at me in triumph.
"Good girl, you only need to listen to me. No one else." And I want to believe him so much, that I suddenly want to forget my doubts.
So, I let him make me forget. His hands roam my body, freeing me from my clothes and holding me where he wants me.
And I let him because I remember that I always wanted him to have his way with me. And when I look at his face, I no longer differentiate. For me, only my Coryo exists.
I close my eyes and lose myself in these sensations, the heat of his words and his actions.
His lips are soft, his kisses leave me with an unknown want and I can't do anything other than just take everything he gives me.
When he strips me out of my pants and unbottons my blouse, he lifts me up against the wall. His hips are pressed against my waist and his kisses travel from my lips down to my chest.
"Everything I do is for you." His words sound familiar.
"You will never doubt me again, I promise you. I'll make sure of that. From now on, you will feel this good forever. Because of me, you hear me? Only because of me, always me." His words cover me like a veil, but I'm unable to process them. My head is so empty and just like he said, I only feel.
I've never not thought about nothing and even if it should unnerve me, I can't even remember to be bothered about it.
As my hands try to move further down to his back and my nails leave marks on his back, his hand squeezes my neck like a warning.
"I am in control, you do as I say. Now take off my pants, so I can fuck you until you believe in me again." I can't think straight, when his hands are undressing me, cupping my breasts and turning me on in a way, I only want to be here with him.
As soon as my hands undress him and his pants are pulled down, he tears my panties apart, meeting my lips in a wanting kiss.
I feel one of his fingers slipping through my wet folds, pumping roughly two fingers inside me. My mouth opens and moans escape me, while I hold myself onto his shoulders.
"You needed to play hard to get, huh? Look who is at my mercy now." My body is still pressed against the wall and as my eyes close on their own, I suddenly feel his tip at my entrance.
And when I want to protest, he places his hand on my mouth to keep me quiet.
"No talking back to me. If you don't listen, I will make you." He pushes himself into me and I feel every vein as his hands direct mine against the wall behind me.
When he starts fucking me, I'm sure I'll pass out.
"C-cant take- too big, please" I dont even know how to speak properly anymore. His hands hold me tight and his thrusts are so brutal, that I barely have enough concentration to breathe.
"What did you say? You want to please me? Then shut your mouth and let me use you." With every harsh thrust, I feel my muscles become more and more relaxed and only he is holding me up now. I can't concentrate on anything else other than him inside me.
My thoughts begin to only focus on being good for him.
I feel like my soul is leaving my body. All I can hear is the dull clapping of our bodies, my loud moans and his heavy breathing.
As he buries his head in the crook of my neck, I softly whimper his name.
I feel how he tenses, when he react to me calling his nickname. His eyes shift to me and suddenly he lets go of my arms and I put them around his shoulders without hesitation. The position now is much more intimate and I scratch his back as his thrusts become even deeper and harder.
I hear his heavy breathing and feel his arms wrap around mine too.
"Tell me you want me." His voice is menacingly quiet. When I don't answer, too focused on his hips thrusting into me, he lets go of the wall and lays me on my bed.
"Fine, I will make you say it then." He sits down and pulls me onto his lap with my back to him, sliding his cock into me again. I moan so loudly, that I notice him grinning contentedly against my shoulder.
"You like that? Good, everyone will know how me you like me, when I'm done with you." His hand directs me so his chest touches my back and one of his hands moves to wrap around my neck.
"You will get used to doing what I want and you will do it, because you want to. You hear me? You won't stay away from me anymore, you belong to me. Everything you do is for me and only me." My thoughts are so confused, I can't think straight anymore. All I know is that I have never felt so good and that he is the reason for my pleasure.
"But I fucked you dumb so it seems. Pretty, little thing. You are like my personal doll, that I can use as I please. This turns me on even more than I would have thought." He pushes me further down on him, making me bounce until that one special spot in me is abused over and over again. And all I can utter are useless words and loud moans.
"B-blue" I hear him chuckle darkly in response.
I'm no longer certain, that I'm even laying in the arms of the person I once loved so much.
"You should have let me fucked you much sooner. It would have destroyed any resistance you had towards me. Just like now and just like I wanted." His voice whispers in my ear and my head leans against his shoulders, my mouth opens and I feel every inch of him inside me.
His hand strokes the skin, where my heart lays and I feel his lips brush against my ear.
"If this heart ever beats for anyone else other than me, everyone in this world will die and I won't be afraid to tell you that it is entirely your fault."
I collapse in his arms, when I come, going completely limp and vulnerable, unable to move. This time I only seem to be physically present.
His arms wrap around me and he let me sink onto him again, then I hear his voice whispering promises into the dark room.
"You cant ever escape me. I will always find you and I will always get you."
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celtic-crossbow · 4 months
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Chapter 11
Warnings: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SA. Please venture forth with caution. Typical TWD violence and gore; blood; injury.
A/N: I don’t know why but I feel like Daryl is extremely OOC in this chapter. Maybe I’m just being a bully to myself. I’ll try to rein him back in with future chapters. I’m sorry.
Daryl’s feet carried him at a slow pace, seemingly knowing where he was headed. He ended up outside of the cell Hershel would use for medical purposes. Reluctantly, he tapped his knuckles against the bars and waited for the veterinarian to invite him inside. 
The curtain was moved aside and Daryl noticed the absence of you and Carol immediately. “She okay?” He asked gruffly, not willing to show any fondness toward you. You likely knew exactly how he felt, at least in a physical sense. He didn’t need everyone else donning those knowing smiles like they had any clue of the turmoil he was battling inside. 
Hershel stood with the help of his crutches and hobbled his way to the archer. “She’s just fine. A little shaken up but that’s to be expected for someone with her background. She said she was going back to the fences.”
Daryl nodded. “Okay then.” He turned to leave— to find you —pausing when a gentle hand came to rest on his shoulder. 
“She trusts you, you know.” Hershel said with his gentle smile. The hunter enforced his unreadable mask. “She has a lot of fear and rightfully so. But she trusts you.”
“She shouldn’.” Daryl replied, blue eyes dropping toward the floor before he presented another nod and left the cell. It wasn’t that he didn’t want your trust. He didn’t deserve it. The archer knew what had been done to you, yet when he lay awake at night, it was you that he envisioned while stroking himself to the precipice of pleasure. 
It was wrong.
It was immoral to fantasize about how it would have felt to have you that night beside the fire. You were willing but it wasn’t real. You wanted him because of obligation, not because you felt anything toward him. Not even because you just needed to be fucked. But because you had been brainwashed to think that was what you were supposed to do. 
Guilt sat like a stone in his gut and he didn’t know how to process it; how to move past it. Maybe training you— building you up to take care of yourself —would absolve him. He could give you that, asking for nothing. You could move forward with knowing that someone could show you kindness with no strings attached. 
Daryl heaved an intensive sigh and stepped outside. You would be waiting for him with those wide, pretty eyes. When he was closer to his destination, however, he found that you weren’t there. He continued regardless and collected your knife, slipping it behind his belt. You had probably wandered off with Carol when he didn’t show. It was probably for the best. 
He was about halfway back to the prison door when he saw Carol exiting. Alone. Something didn’t sit right. “Hey!” He called out, waiting for her to find him when she began looking around. 
“Hey, yourself!” She shouted back. 
“Y/N with ya?” 
“I thought she was with you.” 
Fuck. Carol’s expression mirrored his own, communicating without speaking as they often did. “I’ll check the cells.”
“I’ll check the towers.”
Daryl hated running. It was all he had done since the world ended. He ran for his life or someone else’s. The latter only amounted to anything half the time. “Y/N!” He yelled the minute he stepped foot inside the prison walls. 
Beth stepped up to the cellblock door with baby Judith in tow. “What’s the matter?”
“Y/N been in there?” He asked breathlessly. 
“I haven’t seen her. She doesn’t spend a lot of— Daryl! What’s going on?” The young blonde yelled at his retreating form. 
He didn’t answer, didn’t even stop when he snatched up his crossbow and sprinted back outside. If you had gone beyond the fence, you were as good as dead if he couldn’t get to you in time. Carol had forbidden you to enter the tombs. Surely you wouldn’t have. Would you?
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He muttered, pacing back and forth in front of the door. Either scenario would mean death if he didn’t act quickly. The thought alone left a hollow ache in his chest that he was too panicked to give any attention. 
You stood less of a chance in the tombs. He would start there and pray to some deity that he made the right call. His fingers had hardly brushed the door when his keen hearing picked up a sound. A shout. Daryl froze, tilting his head to listen. There was no other noise but his gut told him he needed to go investigate. 
He kept his steps light but quick, crossbow loaded and ready to aim. The closer he got to the opening in the outer wall, he could hear voices. Two males. 
“Don’t fuck it up too much, man.”
“Looks like someone already did that.”
Daryl’s back was pressed to the wall, about to lean around the corner for a look. The voices belonged to two men that had been allowed in that very day. Lonny and Marvin. He hadn’t felt right about them but Rick vouched for them along with the rest of the group. They could be engaged in innocent conversation, but something about the whole thing was making the archer’s teeth itch. As discreetly as possible, he peered around.
In a span of mere seconds, Daryl went through an onslaught of three intense emotions. Firstly, he was in shock. You were facedown on the concrete, blood pooled around a portion of your head while your nails scratched at the concrete. Then came the guilt. There was the smallest whimper accompanied by an utterance of ‘ow’ that made his eyes sting. Lastly, came the anger. No, it was fury. The men had ripped off the clothing from your lower half. Marvin had a hand pressed hard into the middle of your back while his other hand moved aggressively between your legs. Lonny stood just behind him, stroking his cock with the most vile expression Daryl had ever witnessed. 
He didn’t hesitate to step around, crossbow level with his eyes. The weapon trembled in his grip. His blood was boiling just underneath his skin. “Ya got less than one goddamn second ta move away from her ‘fore I put a bolt in yer brain.” The low growl of his tone added intent to an already very clear threat. 
Lonny moved first, releasing his dick to put his hands in the air and step back a few paces. Marvin hadn’t moved, actually smirking at Daryl. The archer gritted his teeth, really really restraining himself. 
“Daryl.” 
It was the tiniest whisper of a breath and the anger disappeared in an instant, his expression shifting, softening. “M’here.” 
“This here your pussy, man?” Marvin’s arm moved, bringing three blood-coated fingers to his lips. “I mean, maybe we could work something out and sha—”
The bolt pierced through the side of his middle finger, into his mouth, and out through his cheek. The screams were bound to bring reinforcements, not that Daryl needed them. His blue eyes shifted to Lonny. The man hadn’t moved and continued standing stock still while another bolt was loaded. 
“Ya got any propositions fer me, asshole, cause yer givin’ me a helluva target.”
Lonny shook his head vigorously. 
Daryl glanced down, wanting nothing more than to run to your side but he couldn’t let his guard down. Not yet. 
“Both’a ya, back the fuck up.” The archer stepped forward and Lonny stepped back while Marvin continued to scream. 
“Oo choht ee ehn uh ouhth!” He attempted to complain while using the hand that wasn’t bolted to his jaw to clamber to his feet. Daryl took another step forward. 
“I said BACK!” He roared. His patience was wearing thin. Marvin finally reacted and stumbled away. 
“Daryl!” Carol called from just around the corner. 
With help so close, Daryl abandoned the crossbow and dropped down beside you, stripping off his vest to at least provide a little coverage for you. 
“Hey, ya with me?” He placed his hand on your back as gently as possible, bending forward so you could see him without the need to move. Carol, Rick, and others had arrived and were handling the men but the archer was paying them no mind. The moment your eyes blinked open, you were his sole focus. 
“I… I…” You attempted before your face contorted in pain. 
“Need ta getcha inside. Getcha ta Hershel.” He was trembling again, anger threatening to resurface amidst all raised voices. Keeping his hand on your back, his wild gaze searched out Rick in the flood of people. “Get ‘em the fuck outta here!”
“Hey, hey. Calm down.” Carol kneeled on your other side, sweeping your hair away from your face. It took Daryl a moment to realize she was talking to him. He nodded, gaze back on you. You hadn’t moved but your eyes remained open. “I’m gonna get a blanket.” 
The archer nodded again, leaning back down after she had gone. “Yer gon’ be fine. Yer safe.” A broken sob escaped from your lips, the sound ensnaring his heart and squeezing. You moved as if you were going to push yourself up, sending Daryl into a panic. “No, don’. Stay still. M’a getcha there. Jus’ another minute.” You didn’t respond but the quiver of your lip told him you were still conscious. 
The hunter heard the pounding of Carol’s boots well before she appeared with an off white sheet. His vest was tossed aside, giving him the briefest look at the blood smeared on your inner thighs. He knew then that he would murder someone that day. But you came first. 
“Roll her this way.” Carol instructed, helping him move you into a position from which he could easily lift you. “Easy, easy.” 
You gasped and whimpered and tried to curl in on yourself. It was all Daryl could do to keep you still. Once you were on your side, Carol brushed your hair back again. You flinched at her touch. 
“You…you promised.” 
His friend looked as if you’d punched her in the gut, a hand flying to her mouth; her eyes heavy with gathering tears. “Get her to Hershel.” She commanded softly. 
Daryl slipped an arm under the curve of your neck and slid down to your shoulders while his other maneuvered under and around your thighs. When he lifted you, a broken cry worked its way from your throat. He was left cradling you awkwardly but you were shielded by the blanket and he could make the position work in order to get you inside. His feet were moving before his brain even registered he’d given the order. 
“Daryl.” You whimpered. Your fingers, with their broken and bleeding nails, curled into the front of his shirt. “Hur…hurts.”
“I know.” He didn’t know how to reassure you; how to make this better. Carol had promised you a better life there. He had brought you there under the same assumption. If he was honest with himself, he took you out of the frying pan and tossed you right into the fire. His pace continued to increase only to slow when you’d start to cry harder. “Jus’ a lil’ further.” Was that for you or himself? He didn’t know. 
When Carol caught up, she didn’t touch you. Daryl knew it wasn’t out of anger or cruelty. She felt as if she had failed you. He knew that because he knew her better than anyone. 
He knew that because he had failed you too. 
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Daryl sat on his mattress, legs outstretched and arms lying limply in his lap. It had been hours since he’d found you. He’d taken you to Hershel and was quickly ushered out due to the location of your injuries. Carol had remained, although unsure if you even wanted her there. 
The archer, with nowhere to release his guilt and anger, had headed straight for the cell where he knew Lonny and Marvin would be kept. Rick had temporarily taken his keys after the former sheriff and Glenn had finally managed to drag Daryl off of both men. 
At least he had retrieved his bolt from Marvin’s face. It was now lying on the floor below his feet. 
He was told to stay back when Carol had come from the medical cell and a decision was made on the fate of the two bastards. They counted his vote which was just shy of flaying them open and tossing vital organs over the fence. He had wanted to ask about you but there was no time. Everyone wanted the issue dealt with and the perpetrators out of the prison, one way or another. 
In the end, they were stripped of their clothing and put outside the fence. Carol wanted them to suffer as you had suffered. Rick had disagreed but was outvoted.  
Lonny and Marvin would now be two more walkers snarling at the fence. 
It wasn’t enough, in Daryl’s opinion. He would have tortured them, willingly chipped away at his humanity to hear them scream; to watch them writhe and see them bleed. Regardless, the anger had given way to all encompassing guilt. He wanted to blame Rick for bringing the assholes in based on the answers to three questions that anyone could respond to with a lie. But he couldn’t. 
He was the sole reason you were even there at the prison. He had gone against Rick and traded valuable assets to free you. He’d never know what would have been the better option for you. Still…
He selfishly wanted you to stay. 
It would never be worth the risk of your wellbeing to explore the urges he had been feeling. He’d never put you in that position; subject you to that confusion. He just wanted you to stay for reasons he couldn’t even grasp himself. What was wrong with him? He didn’t do emotions. It was always easier to remain closed off. 
Footsteps echoed from the bottom of the stairs. Carol. Daryl pulled himself from his defeatism, only to see your blood dried on his arms; his busted up knuckles. 
“Hey.” He didn’t look up. “Brought your vest and crossbow.” 
He still didn’t acknowledge her. He wasn’t angry with her in the slightest. He just didn’t know how to verbalize all he was feeling. He didn’t want to. So, when the mattress dipped beside him, he sighed. 
“Hershel says she’ll be okay. There were…lacerations that will take some time to heal. And she has a nasty concussion.” Carol fiddled with the hem of her shirt for distraction, allowing silence to permeate the room. “She won’t talk.”
Daryl scoffed. “She thinks ya broke a promise.”
“No.” She countered. “She won’t talk to anyone. Just lays there and stares at the wall.”
He hated how that image settled in his chest, causing an unfamiliar ache. How could Hershel say she’d be alright when she had been subjected to behaviors straight out of the hell from which he’d taken her. He couldn’t do more than hum in reply. 
“You like her, don’t you?”
“Nah.” He lied. “Jus’ wanted her ta be safe.” That much was true, at least. 
“I’d like to think I know you better than anyone.” Carol whispered sadly. “And everything in me says that you like that girl.”
“Wha’s it matter?” He would usually snap at her, but he didn’t have the energy; lacked the bite. The memory of you lying there, broken, had stripped all that away. 
“It matters.” She squeezed his shoulder and stood, dragging her feet toward the stairs where she paused. “You should go see her.”
“I ain’t what she needs righ’ now.” Or ever. 
It was her turn to hum. “Maybe you’re exactly what she needs.” 
He listened to her steps fade the further she walked. Carol did know him better than anyone, but that didn’t make what she knew right. He needed to stay away, for your sake and his own. 
So why did he find himself taking a shower to scrub away the blood you didn’t need to see? Why did he walk to the medical cell? And why was he standing in the doorway, staring at your back? 
Now that he was there, he had no idea what he was supposed to say. ‘Hey, sorry ‘bout those two dickheads that took advantage of ya’? Eventually, he chose just to seat himself in the chair behind you and remain silent. He couldn’t be certain if you even knew he was there. 
You looked so small on that table, the thin blanket pulled up to your shoulders. The sheet he had wrapped you in was wadded up in the corner, the crimson splotches scattered like a grizzly design. Daryl’s hands curled into fists. He wished he could have watched the walkers tear into those two depraved assholes. 
He remained that way— a coiled spring of anger and self-loathing —until you stirred. It was the slightest shift accompanied by a nearly inaudible mewl. The archer straightened his spine but otherwise remained still. He still couldn’t understand why he was there; couldn’t even attempt to sort through the sentiments stirring inside. They were slowly consuming him, confounding and confusing in their ambush. All he knew was that you were there, breathing and heart beating, and the sight of you provoked the overwhelming emotions. They threatened to swallow him whole. He’d gladly allow them if it meant he’d gain understanding. 
You shifted again, turning your head slowly to peer at him with tired eyes from over your shoulder. Daryl felt his lungs attempt to freeze while his pulse fluttered like a hummingbird’s wings. Carol had said you refused to speak. He wasn’t refusing. He simply couldn’t. He settled with offering a slow nod. 
His breath stuttered when you responded— not verbally —but with a small smile. It didn’t meet your eyes, but it was new and not unwelcome. His fingers dug into the arms of the chair, knuckles white. He wanted to run. This wasn’t him. For Rick, for Carol, he’d do this. He’d stay. They had become friends. No. They had become family. You? You were different. You weren’t an enemy. You weren’t really a friend. You were a stranger, a newcomer. Yet somehow, you had managed to slither your way right under his skin. 
That was terrifying. He’d rather be thrown into a pit of walkers with only a toothpick to protect himself than deal with matters of the heart. He was out of his depth, alone in unfamiliar territory. And at that point, it was sink or swim. 
Daryl cleared his throat. “How, uh, how ya doin’?” He managed to relax enough to free the chair from the death grip. The corners of your mouth turned down, your eyes beginning to shine with moisture as you looked away. The archer didn’t know how to interpret that. “I should go.” He chewed on the inside of his cheek, finding himself hesitant to leave you alone. But it was for the best. He shouldn’t have come in the first place. He wasn’t sure what else to say. The silence made him feel even more awkward. 
Hands on the wooden chair arms, he pushed himself up to stand. Grunting was apparently Daryl-speak for ‘goodnight’ or ‘feel better’ but that’s what he went with. It never failed him before. Quick to turn his back, he made it two whole steps. 
“Daryl?”
The archer’s eyes closed, a curse sitting on the tip of his tongue. Of course he’d be the one you chose to talk to. Dixon luck at its finest. He turned his head toward his left shoulder, purposefully keeping his eyes on the floor. 
“Stay?” Your request came softly, but powerful enough to shatter any resolve he had managed to muster within his inner battlefield. Daryl found himself easily turning back to you, taking back those two steps, and lowering into the chair. 
“Okay.”
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alexa-fika · 3 months
Note
Hello again I thought of a request
How about the scene in the Baratie Arc
So mihawk attacked Don Krieg because he kidnapped winged reader (wr)
But wr managed to escape and steals a small boat
he's starving and finds the Baratie but he doesn't have money and we see his interaction with Sanji
And at the end he goes with his dad
This going to be a long one 😂
🐼💕~
Escape, Friend, Return ( Zoro,x male!child!reader x Sanji)
A/N: You were not wrong this was long 😳, at least compared to what im used to. When I was writing I was like this wont be so long, and then I was oh…
Dividers by @/saradika
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Reader squeaks, avoiding another cannonball heading his way as he flies away
Finally, he managed to reach his destination, an emergency boat intended for use if the main ship sank.
Reader, however, had a much different intention for said boat, intending to escape his captivity at the hands of Captain Krieg.
Don Krieg's face drops as he watches the ship take off.
"Shoot the little rat down!"
Another shriek escapes him as he raises the sails, giving the small boat speed and creating distance from Krieg and the incoming cannonballs
'Shoot for the sails!'.
Don-Kreich and the rest of his crew frantically fire their remaining cannons.
He flinches as one of the cannonballs lands dangerously close, the small boat shaken by the force of the waves created in turn
He sighs with relief as he makes enough distance from the main boat to be out of range of the canon
“I did it…” he mutters, the reality of what just happened to him hitting the young boy as they slowly sink down, rogue tears gradually increasing until a river of tears fell from his eyes, sobbing for his father and the safety on his embrace, exhaustion catching up to him as sleep enveloped him.
Reader was woken up by the ship impacting with a much bigger boat
“Ow,” he whines, rubbing his head, looking up and awing; he had stumbled upon a giant ship if one could call it that, a fish making the underside with a building in the middle.
“B..?” he squints at the words in front of the weird shape, unable to make out what the collection of letters read; he flutters up and into the vast ship.
He sneaks all the way towards where he sees bustling of people, hiding behind a pillar and peeking out, spotting a blond man smoking on the railings of the ship
He squeaks as the man turns his head his way, and he quickly dart back behind the pillar
“Hmm?” Sanji watches the strange sight, tilting his head
Reader peeks his head out again, taking a glimpse at the man, darting back once they see the man staring at him
Sanji watches the child curiously before heading over to the person of interest
He squeals as he peeks out again, only to see the man right before him, slowly backing away, tears welling in his eyes
Sanji looks at the child, his expression softening
“Hey, what are you doing out here all alone?”
“I-I I “
Sanji kneels down in front of the boy.
“Are you alright?” he asks
“I -I want my daddy.”
Sanji looks concerned. “Do you know where he is?” he asks
He shakes their head
“Oh…how about you just come with me to my kitchen then…we can get something to eat at least,” Sanji says
He stares at his hand hesitantly
“Hey, I won’t hurt you, alright? You look like you could use a nice meal. C’mon,” he says, offering his hand
He slowly puts his hands over his
Sanji gently takes the little hand as he starts walking, headed to the kitchen
“What’s your name, kid?” he asks
“Reader”
“And where are you from, Reader?”
“Ummm, im from Papa’s island!”
“Hmm…and how did you end up all alone out here?”
“A bad guy took me,” he said, stretching his wings out
“I see…let’s see if we can find you some food then, ok?” Sanji takes the boy to the kitchen
“Okay!”
Sanji puts the little one on a chair before making them some food
“Here…” Sanji gives him a warm bowl of soup
“Thank you, Mister!”
“You’re welcome…” Sanji says kindly
“That was really yummy, Mister.” he smiles, kicking his feet and lightly flapping his wings in content
“Umm, what's your name, Mister?”
“My name is Sanji…nice to meet you, Reader.”
“Hi, Hi, Sanji!”
“Oi Assitant Headchef Sanji! We need you on the floor! We don’t have any waiters! They ran off yesterday!”
Sanji looks up from his workstation and then turns back to the child; he sighs
“I gotta help these idiots out there. Could you wait for me on the platform? You have a nice view from there; once im done, I‘ll help you find your father; does that sound good?”
“Okay! But you have to promise to come back and help me find Daddy!”
Sanji smiles.
“Do not worry, im a man of my word. Go on now and wait for me there; I’ll be there shortly.”
"Okay." he smiles flying toward the upper balcony
The next hour was a blur to the small child, from meeting the future King of the pirates on the balcony to seeing him comedically try to convince Sanji to join his crew to laughing joyously as Luffy and Zoro quarrel to a feeling of fear and dread enveloped him as the familiar gold armored man came barging in, carried by the hungry man, asking for food and pummeling Sanji to the ground and shooting all the chefs when he received the food but did received refusal to his demand of handing the restaurant To him.
He now found themselves crying in the hands of the blond cook as he soothed down his loud sobs and cries.
Sanji sighs softly as he takes a handkerchief and gently wipes his tears
"Hey, Hey, it's okay; he's not gonna touch you again, darling."
"H-H-he came back, he came back, and Mister Sanji and the others got hurt!"
"Hey now, I will never let anyone hurt you, alright?" Sanji pulls the child close to him
He grunts as Don Krieg starts demanding food for his crew; needing food to feed a hundred people, he gently passes over the kid over to Zoro, who happens to be the closest to him; once they had managed to calm down the child, their sobs now simply reduced to heavy breathing.
"Stay here, Darling, i'll be right back
"Where are you going?" a chef questions
"Im going to the kitchen to prepare enough food for a hundred people," he mutters, taking a drag from his cigarette as chaos erupted in the restaurant once again, punches being delivered until Zeff walked out and handed a bag full of food for Krieg's crew
Zoro rolls his eyes, glancing down at the child. In his arms
"Oi, where are your parents?" he questions
"I don't know where Daddy is."
"Who is your dad?"
"Umm, Daddy!
"Of course," He grunts
"....That hawk-eyed man whose glare is sharp enough to kill a man," the hungry man mutters as they both tune in back to the conversation
"That's Daddy!"
"What?!" he said, ruffling through his pockets and pulling out a wrinkled old paper with a familiar face on it
"Is this your father?"
"That's Daddy!"
"You're the child of H-
His discovery Is cut short as a tremendous force cuts the huge galleon in half, making the baratie sway violently.
"Look out!" He growls, moving reader out of the way as the swaying throws the chairs and tables around, almost taking with it Reader.
He squeals at the sudden collision and movement; they look up a Zoro
"Are you okay?"
He, however, does not respond, eyes glued in front of him, staring at the ship that was slowly sinking to the sea, and in front of it floated a raft with a familiar man sitting on it.
"DADDY!" he cheers, wriggling out of Zoro's grasp to fly towards their father, barreling right into him
Mihawk catches the young child, gently holding him in one arm.
"There, there..."
"You're here," he mutters
Mihawk nods, gently running his fingers through his hair
"I am," he says, looking down at him
"Are you unharmed? Did they hurt you?" he said, gesturing to Zoro and their aquentainces.
He shakes his head
"They helped me, they gave me food, and they took care of me."
He hums at their answer
"Damn you, what did we do to you?! Why the hell did you have to follow us all the way out here!" a crewmate of Krieg sneered, pulling out two guns and shooing the swordsman
"Why? What impertinence to ask such a question; I came because you had the nerve to take something from me," he said, deflecting the bullets from him and his child with ease.
"You really are the strongest... I set sail to meet you," Zoro says, slowly stepping closer
Mihawk glances at him and then down at Reader.
"Stay here; I will return shortly," he said, placing him down in the raft and stepping into what remained of Krieg's ship towards the ex-pirate hunter
They engaged in a few words and then engaged in the one-way battle, Mihawk not moving from his spot as he easily bested the green head with his tiny dagger; impressed with his ambition, ferocity, and conviction, he asked for his name, and gave him his respect and honor of bringing him down with all of his force, using Yoru.
"Stand Strong, Roronoa; I will wait for you at the top. No matter how many months or years pass, I will wait for you to surpass my sword."
He smiles as he watches as Zoro raises his sword and promises Luffy never to lose again
"You make a good team; I'd like to see you in the future. You have my thanks and respect for taking care of Reader while I was gone," He says, walking away to his raft and scooping said child, smiling again as they giggle and nuzzle into them.
"Farewell
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Okay, y’all im not used to something this long especially for it to be following canon so closedly so idk I feel like its a flop, I don’t feel that usual 🥰 vibe, ya know? I did have to start skipping and resuming some parts, cause well I don’t want ya to read a manuscript of the manga…
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@imaginarydreams
@amethystviolin
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folkloresthings · 7 months
Note
BECCA!! Congrats on 1k, I love your writing and I’m glad so many other people do too <3
NORTHANGER ABBEY — send a muse + your favourite trope and i’ll write a drabble/blurb.
Could you do Sebastian Vettel + pining/unrequited love but with a happy end? (Kind of à la Amy & Laurie in little women??)
AMY AND LAURIE CODED!!! spot the little women refs
SOMEDAY. ❨ sebastian vettel x reader ❩
✩⡱ warnings: mention of v*mit
the light of sebastian’s presence had lit your life for as long as you could — or wanted to remember. young when you’d first met, you at nineteen and him twenty—four, donning his red bull gear and a world championship. the bar in which you had met wasn’t anything special, tucked away in the heart of valencia. you were travelling with friends, he was working his way towards his second championship.
it was easy to spot him across the bar, all blonde curls and dazzling eyes. a woman hung on his arm, whispering in his ear while a friend—of—a—friend introduced you both. he’d barely looked at you, probably to preoccupied with how the woman’s hands were wandering further south by the minute.
your best friend was more of a racing fan than you, and had coincidentally planned the route of your travels across europe to coincide with the grand prix schedule. the next time you saw him was in budapest, nursing the same drink he’d had in spain but arms bare of playthings for the night.
“vodka soda, please.”
“i remember you,” he had slurred, pointing aimlessly towards you as you spoke across to the barman. “valencia!”
you assumed his exclamation of the city was his connecting of the dots, so you sent him a nod and a small smile. “yeah, we both know joseph.”
“joseph, right,” sebastian mused, vague familiarity dancing across his features. “good guy.”
he looked just as handsome that night as he had in valencia, though slightly drunker. you had heard the tales of the good—looking german driver, your friend spent most of your train journeys across countries gushing about him and half a dozen other names you didn’t recognise.
“here, my treat,” sebastian quickly cut across you before you could pay, shoving a few euros into the barman’s hand. you didn’t bother arguing — he was a world famous formula one driver and you were a full time university student. he could afford a vodka soda better than you could.
“thank you, sebastian.”
“you’re welcome…” he trailed off, searching desperately in his memory for your name.
“y/n,” you offered, a grin tugging at your lips. you couldn’t find it in yourself to be annoyed at his lack of attention, not when his eyes were shining up at you the way they were. he repeated it, your birthright sounding far nicer on his tongue than your own. he’d shaken your hand then, ordering an apology round of shots for his “shameful behaviour”.
a few hours later, you held his belongings as he vomited into an empty alleyway. the streets of budapest were practically deserted, town clock chiming three in the morning. sebastian’s challenge of shot after shot soon became a competition with only himself, ending up much drunker than yourself and with no one around to supervise his stupidity.
thankfully, tucked somewhere in his pocket, was the address of his hotel. you got him there, eventually, after a few stops to sit down or sebastian’s several attempts to climb a wall. you took him all the way to him room, getting him into bed and leaving a note and some painkillers by his side.
from then on, you were friends. even when you went back to university, he did all he could to fly you out to races and let you see a little more of the world. australia, japan, abu dhabi… you’d been there to see him win every world championship, to hug him and celebrate with one too many drinks afterwards. you were still always the one to tuck him in after.
the only problem was, amongst this wonderful friendship, you were completely and utterly in love with him.
he didn’t feel the same. you figured that out one night in monaco when he took you for dinner and snuck you down to the beach afterwards. you kissed him on the sand, naive and innocent, only twenty and unsure of what this would mean. he’d been kind about it, sweet as ever, letting you indulge yourself before letting you down slowly.
“maybe someday, when you’re older.”
his words played in your mind like a broken record every birthday from them on. would this be the year? you tried going out with other boys, but none of them compared to him. your sebastian. every year you got older, so did he, and soon you were twenty—six and him thirty—one.
in those years, you were glad for his wise, older words. they’d kept your friendship intact, giving you your person — the one you could talk to in good times and bad. no matter how painful your love for him was, never fading over time, you kept it all down for the sake of keeping him in your life.
“penny for your thoughts?” sebastian’s usual teasing tone pulls you from your thoughts, the montage of your relationship playing in your head. you glance up at him, forcing on a smile.
“sorry, zoned out for a minute,” you breathed out a laugh, smoothing down the skirt of your dress in the mirror. “how do i look? do i look alright?”
sebastian took a moment to let his eyes rake over your body. the dress was a pale blue colour, adorned with pale white flowers that floated about your ankles. he could only describe it as soft, a light summer dress that moved with the wind but hugged your lines perfectly. god, you were heavenly.
“you look beautiful. you are beautiful.” sebastian’s face had softened considerably, looking at you in a way that could almost be mistaken for love. you stare at him, yearning to decipher the thoughts in his head, but you come up empty.
inhaling some feeling back into your body, you move from his gaze. “i better go. robb will be waiting.”
robb. sebastian had been with you when you met. a grand event, drivers and socialites alike. sebastian had gone to get you both a drink when he returned to find the man flirting with you. you were smiling and laughing, your hand finding it’s place on the man’s arm. sebastian turned on his heel and left you to it, finishing both of your drinks in his stride.
since then, you had been to dinner with robb twice. he was charming, funny and sweet, knew just how to woo you. admittedly, you struggled to find the spark that people often spoke of, but you were willing to pass it up for a chance at some kind of romance. sebastian, however, found himself battling with this strange feeling in his stomach every time you spoke to him about robb.
he could feel it again now, watching you skip off to meet your date. twisting and tugging, nausea rising in his chest. it was a new feeling, and one that he hated having. it was selfish of him but he couldn’t help it — you had been his for so long, only his, and now you were slipping away.
“ — but it’s far too cold there to live all year…” chuckling at robb’s latest tale, you felt the words on your tongue fade as he appeared nearby. you had told sebastian where you and robb were going, a small jazz bar with expensive cocktails and live music. so why had he come?
“seb?”
he smiled, brows furrowing in faux confusion. “oh, hey you two. fancy seeing you here.”
if looks could kill, sebastian would be six feet under by now. your glare was cold, but missed completely by robb as he engaged in conversation with your friend. for the next thirty minutes, you didn’t say a word. you didn’t get a chance, with robb asking sebastian a million questions on racing and the latter gladly entertaining him.
“excuse me,” you muttered, grabbing your bag and pushing yourself from the chair. your date barely noticed, staring at a picture on sebastian’s phone. the blonde watched you go, snatching his device back and following you without a second thought.
“hey, y/n! wait!” he hurried after you down the street, struggling to keep up with your hurried pace. “y/n!”
his arm reached out to grab you, spinning you on your heel to face him. he knew with one look that you were mad, and he suddenly regretted every choice he’d made that evening. “what?”
“where are you going?” he asked, rather sheepish.
“i’m going home, sebastian,” your voice was sharp, cheeks red with anger and embarrassment. “my date seems pretty occupied with you in there, so i’m leaving.”
“no, wait…” he grappled desperately, grabbing at your wrist again to keep you there. his lips part, searching for an excuse, but nothing comes out.
“you knew i was coming here tonight! why would you show up when you knew?” seething, tears pricked at your eyes. you cursed yourself for the german making you such a mess. “i told you how excited i was and you purposely came to ruin it! why?”
sebastian sighed, silent. all of that jealously turned to hatred, for himself and his stupid, stupid heart. “i’m sorry.”
you looked at him, waiting for more. needing more than just that.
“i’m sorry, i just — i hated seeing you so happy,” as soon as it was out, as soon as he saw your face twist, he knew it didn’t sound right. “no, shit. not like that. i wasn’t the one making you happy and it felt awful. i didn’t want to see you with anyone else. y/n… i’ve been such an idiot.”
the words sunk in as he tried to tangle his fingers in you, squeezing himself closer to you in the street. your head shook, backing away with every inch he moved closer.
“no, no. seb, don’t do this,” you muttered, ignoring his pleas for your forgiveness. you felt dizzy, all of this coming to soon. “seb, you’re being mean. stop it.”
with your voice sterner, he took a step back.
“i’ve waited for you for seven years. i waited and you never came, but the second i find somebody else you figure it out?” tongue laced with disbelief, you felt your feet stumble on the cobbles below. sebastian reached out to you, worry crossing his face. he felt terrible. he’d put you through so much and expected even more.
“i know,” sebastian whispered, daring to step closer again. you let him now, proving yourself weak to his affection once again. his hand finds your cheek, warming it from the night air, your head resting against his hold. “i’m a fool. i didn’t realise it before but i’ve been in love with you for so long. i don’t know when it happened, but it did. and there’s nothing i can do about it but beg you to forgive me.”
your eyes turn soft, melting into his confessional. everything you’d waited for and dreamed of, the words that haunted you for years of sleepless nights. it was happening and none of it felt real. seven years of wanting it, and now you were hesitant.
“will you forgive me?” sebastian pleads, thumbs rubbing gently at the flesh of your cheeks. his lips, ready for yours, but not until you are. “i’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. i promise.”
you smile, because how can you not? when he’s looking at you like you’re the one who hung the moon and the stars — but he’s the sun. your sun, your light, your love.
“yes.” it’s a whisper when it finally comes, but he hears it. his own smile creeps up, squeezing you in delight.
“yes?” he repeats, waiting for you to confirm it again. you do, and he wastes no time in kissing you. not like that night on the beach, young and unsure, but full of love and certainty. because he loves you, with everything he is, and he needs to show you. all soft lips and daring tongues, arms winding around your waist to pull you flush to him.
he loves you and you love him. at the end of the day, or seven years, there’s nothing else that really matters.
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oneshotnewbie · 5 months
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Could you write a one shot where there is a really bad storm hitting Seattle. Maya and Carina are stuck at the hospital and the fire station, and are trying but unsuccessful at reaching Reader. So they are both worried out of their minds. Then Maya has to go out on a call and find it was R who wrecked their car trying to get home before the storm hit. (Could be severe or non-severe injuries) R goes to the hospital with Maya in the aid car and Carina joins them in the ER.
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Authors note: I heard the song "What the water gave me - Florence + The Machine" while writing this story. I would advise you to listen to the song as well while reading through this story to get the feel of a real Station 19 rescue mission like in the series. Of course it's not a must! ♥
ᕚ---ᕘ
The sky over Seattle steadily darkened as pitch-black thunderclouds rolled in like a tidal wave. The wind began to howl as if playing its own somber tune, rushing restlessly through the skyscrapers of the city. Streets were quickly emptied as people rushed home for shelter. The trees bent under the force of the storm as if begging for mercy, but the storm was relentless. It thundered as if Zeus himself wanted to keep the crowds in their place while the rain fell in thick, large drops and threatened to drown Seattle. The sound of the wind, the falling of the rain and the thunder symphoned in a unique melody and conveyed a frightening atmosphere.
The telephones of the active fire brigade beeped in unison, a warning of the approaching storm that came in way too late. The tough captain of the fire department swallowed hard as she could not reach you, who worked just a few minutes away from her. But you did not answer, the connection was already disrupted, appearing to be off. "She wanted to be here fifteen minutes ago, Carina," both her and the brunette's worries grew with every minute through the phone as they imagined the worst possible scenarios without having any sign of life from you.
"Calm down, Bambina. There is probably total chaos on the streets. Fallen trees, flooding. Maybe she is just stuck in a traffic jam or an emergency came in."
The fire station was flooded with red alarm lights, while the walls shook from violent gusts of wind, preventing the young blonde from speaking further. Raindrops pelted against the roller shutter door, which opened more with every second, allowing the lightning strikes to break through their vision. -Fire engines 19 and 23. Ambulance 19 to Cedar Road Lane 6. Car struck by tree, person seriously injured and trapped.-
The firefighters rushed around, donning their suits and gear before grabbing their helmets. Like-minded, they rushed to the waiting vehicles, only Maya stopped briefly. „Please let me know if you hear anything from her. Stai attenta, bambina!" (Be careful, bambina!). She nodded, knowing that Carina could not see the gesture and hung up before hopping into the squad cars and starting the sirens. Pressing the accelerator, they raced through the whirlwind around them, trying to avoid the tree branches as much as possible.
Lightning flashed across the dangerous-looking sky, and thunder rolled at the same time like an angry demon. Maya clung to the steering wheel as she tried to keep her eyes on the wet, blurry road. They made their way through the flooded streets, branches flying through the air and trash cans tipping over and spilling across the sidewalk.
It was as if the world around her was collapsing in a chaotic dance of wind and water. "Listen guys, I know you want to help the person in the car, but first and foremost, think about your health and your life," the storm roared so loudly that it seemed like it wanted to tear the entire city apart and hardly anyone understood what the captain was saying over the radio. "This is one of the worst storms in years, a state of emergency has been declared and normally no one should be on the roads, so it is a mystery to me why anyone would be so dumb to be driving,"
Her team was clearly tense, the radios crackling in their ears, but they nodded to the captain as confirmation that they had understood the message. Maya did not want to lose any man or woman in her group to the storm. "We are approaching the scene of the accident. Be ready for anything, people. We can do this!" she said calmly and encouragingly while the fire engine´s sirens blared through the dark night.
When the team from Station 19 arrived at the scene of the accident, they were confronted with a dark and serious scene. The car is crammed in by a huge tree and is badly deformed, the hood of which is completely smashed and dented while some branches have pierced through the windshield and turned the interior of the vehicle into a field of rubble.
The fire team jumped out of the emergency vehicles and fought through the wind and rain to reach the car. But the captain remains rooted to the spot in front of the stern of the wreck, looking absentmindedly at the license plate, which was hanging askew. "Y/n.. IT IS Y/N!" she shouted unhindered amid the raging and deafening thunder and her team stopped their tasks in shock, Andy and Gibson focusing their gaze from the thick tree over to the woman in the driver's seat, who Warren was already trying to find vital signs on.
Maya lunged forward, her heart pounding with worry. Her helmet was almost blown away by the wind as she stepped closer, the flashlight shaking in her hand as she shone the light through the shattered window. Her heart seemed to skip a beat as she recognized the familiar features amid the devastation. She was confirmed that she did not have a number twist on the license plate, but that it really was you. Seriously injured and trapped in the car. “Y/n!” she cried, her voice filled with a terror she had never known before. Maya knew she had to stay calm now, that she had to be the professional captain, but her heart was screaming with fear and worry.
The other members of the fire department worked quickly and precisely. "Dean, Montgomery. Grab the hydraulic cutters! We need to get her out of here as quickly as possible. Her vital signs are at risk of plummeting!" shouted Warren. They used cutting tools to fight against the metal of the car on the passenger side and the resistance of the tree while Maya knelt next to the wreckage and held your hand, which was probably thrown out of the broken window after the impact and was now lying on the scratched paint of the outer door. "It looks bad in there! Be careful not to hurt her any further, approach carefully!"
Your eyes were dazed with pain and fear, but you were breathing, albeit weakly. Hearing her voice, you seemed to find some peace for a moment, your dull eyes glued to hers. Desperately wanting to say something, you opened your mouth from which blood began to ooze, but your crushed and injured lungs did not even let in air.
"Hold on, darling. Do not say anything, I am here. We will get you out of there, I promise." The blonde whispered, her voice firm to reassure you even as her own thoughts were caught in a chaos of worry and despair. The minutes stretched endlessly as her team struggled to bend the metal and free their captain's fiancée. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the metal gave way. Using their combined strength, Vic and Warren pulled you from the wreckage, carefully, yet as quickly as possible. As soon as they freed you, they carried you to the ambulance. Maya followed them, never taking her eyes off you. Your condition was serious, but you were still clinging to life. "Carina is coming. She is going to be at the hospital, she will be by your side the second you get there. But you have to fight now, okay? Fight for us."
The rain continued to beat down on you, the storm was still raging, but in the midst of this darkness and chaos there was a glimmer of hope- you were saved, and she would do anything now to help you fight through this storm. But it was hard to keep positive thoughts as the storm continued to sing its destructive song. She closed her eyes tightly as she rode in the ambulance and prayed, with your bloodstained hand in hers, that the next morning would bring a certain light to your health.
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mysticcollectionbee · 6 months
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Things I learned apparently:
(Sorry last post about Loki for today I promise!)
Less important and purely for Lokius fun: Loki in mythology and (kinda) in comics has two twin boys like Mobius’ kids, Narvi and Vali. I thought the boys were different ages but they’re actually played by twins. Also the aforementioned twins are usually depicted as blond, but that’s probably just because Owen Wilson is blonde so young Don probably was too.
MORE IMPORTANT: B-15 is Verity Willis?!?! Apparently, in the end credits you see her Hospital ID or just ID, and it’s Verity motherfucking Willis?! AHHH! My girl B-15 being that person is awesome. And it even says her father’s name being…Roger Willis just like in the comics, oh my god.
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coralinnii · 2 years
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So are we gonna get a part 2 to some of the reincarnated as a villain or will it remain open ended ( like will vils lover somehow survive etc)
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"If you are a villain, then let me be your accomplice" 
feat: Vil 
genre: hurt/comfort?
note: sequel to “being reincarnated into a new world as the bad guy”, mentions of d*ath and near d*ath, mentions of attempted poisoning
series masterlist
for now, it's just Vil but feel free to request for anyone else :)
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You awoke in a bed which was not your own and you felt a sense of deja vu. It was just like the day when you woke up into this world of what you first thought was fictional work. You slowly rose from the covers and felt parched in your throat. Goodness, how long were you out? 
You looked around and saw a bell by the bed. You recognized it as a service call bell so you gave it a couple of swings. It felt to you only a few seconds before you heard rushed footsteps coming towards your room and from the entrance came familiar people; the Schoenheit house butler, your head maid, and surprisingly your husband. The servants looked haggard as though they ran across the mansion and while your husband fared better, he had a look of disheveled relief and mild shock. 
“Your grace!” Your maid cried out as she held back her tears. “You’re finally awake!” 
Now, you remembered why you vaguely remember this room. You were still in the Schoenheit house, but in Vil’s personal bedroom that was next to his study room. 
“What happened?” 
The room silenced, and the senior servants looked to Vil with worry. Vil, looking pensive, waved his hand and the help knew to leave the room, giving the two of you privacy. When the butler closed the doors, Vil made his way to the chair situated by your bed. You wondered if you had visitors often if the chair was already there. 
The blond noble sighed and confessed the events of that night. He told you how you collapsed to the floor, your neck and face bleeding from your desperate scratches. Vil ordered a guard to find a member from the Rosehearts family and then told Rook to disperse the crowd. Behind his closest aid, Vil drank a portion of the antidote and transferred it to you through a rushed kiss, disguising the act as a husband's attempt to breathe life into his partner. When a doctor from the Rosehearts family arrived, they deduced the cause of your distress as a severe allergic reaction. 
“But it wasn't,” Vil furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at you. “And you knew, didn’t you?”
“Sir Vil, I don-“ he cut you off. 
“LeBlanche didn’t even get the chance to drink it before you requested his drink” Vil recounted what the young count heir told him while in tears, convinced it was his fault. But it wasn’t, it was his. “You immediately took the poison and looked at me, as though you knew what I did” 
You were confused on what to do. To see your husband, your ultimate bias, shaking his seat with a look of utter defeat that was so unlike him. He looked straight into your eyes, looking as though he had resigned to something. 
“You truly love that man, enough to die for him” he smiled sadly and rose to his feet “I will write up a request for divorce. I doubt you wish to stay with the man that tried to kill your beloved”
No, that’s what you want! Not at all! 
You scrambled out from the heavy covers, hurriedly getting to your feet. However, due to the time spent unconscious, the muscles in your legs were not in full operation. You fell to your knees with a loud thud which got your husband (while he is still your husband) to turn around. The beautiful man rushed to your aid while reprimanding you. 
“You foolish potato, you just woke up!” Despite his scolding, you giggled at his nickname for you. “Hah, must you always be so reckless?” 
“I am reckless because I know you are here to help me regardless” you smiled before turning serious “I didn’t do it because I love Neige” 
“What do you mean?” 
“Neige is precious to me, yes” you were glad that your friend remained unharmed from this incident, but he was more of a happy byproduct of your actions. “But I did it to protect you, Sir Vil” 
Vil shot you a questioning look as he led you back to your (really his) bed. “Explain your reasoning” 
You let out a sigh. “If Neige drank the poison without finishing it, the drink would be traced back to you and you would be punished for attempted assassination” 
Vil narrowed his eyes “So you did know” 
You nodded and continued “I couldn’t leave the drink be and everyone was watching us so I did what I thought was best”
“And you would throw away your life just because of that?!” Vil grew angry at your dangerous reasoning. “Even if you were questioned for tossing a drink or dropping a glass, that would be better than dying!” 
“You know it’s not!” You argued back.
Realistically, Vil was right but you couldn’t bring yourself to agree. The imperial palace was the host of the ball and refusing a drink or being seen wasting anything from the dinner is an act of disrespect to the royal family’s generosity. To many in high society including you, a pitiful death is better than bringing shame onto the family.
“I know the reason I was chosen to be in this family” you saw Vil flinched, you guessed he thought you didn’t know. “Even if it’s tragic, my death would have been easier to forgive than disrespecting the royal family” 
Vil has remained silent for a while, he was too stunned by this revelation to speak. The nights where you were unconscious, he was convinced that your last smile was meant to haunt him for his horrendous choices. His ugly nature was the cause of your end and you wanted him to be reminded of that every time he remembered your smile. 
Bravely, you took the chance to reach for his hands, still shaking from the truth that was revealed. You nervously asked, “Can I still stay here?” By your side? 
You broke him. You broke the once unbreakable man that was Vil Schoenheit as he shook violently with tears in his violet-coloured eyes. 
Who were you, he thought. Who were you to see the horrendous side of him and still choose to stay. 
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badjokesbyjeff · 2 years
Text
A fifteen-year-old Amish boy and his father were in a mall.
They were amazed by almost everything they saw, but especially by two shiny, silver walls that could move apart and then slide back together again.
The boy asked, "What is this Father?"
The father (never having seen an elevator) responded, "Son, I have never seen anything like this in my life, I don"t know what it is."
While the boy and his father were watching with amazement, a fat old lady in a wheelchair moved up to the moving walls and pressed a button. The walls opened, and the lady rolled between them into a small room.
The walls closed, and the boy and his father watched the small numbers above the walls light up sequentially.
They continued to watch until it reached the last number, and then the numbers began to light in the reverse order.
Finally, the walls opened up again and a gorgeous 24-year-old blonde stepped out.
The father, not taking his eyes off the young woman, said quietly to his son...
"Go get your Mother."
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zeltqz · 2 years
Text
𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐄
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+pairings - rindou haitani x fem!reader
+syn - the story on how you fell in love with your childhood best friend and reunite with him years later.
+genre - angst, fluff, smut, slow burn, friend->lovers
+word count - 8.4k
+cw - childhood friends, mutual pining, unresolved sexual tension, rindou and reader are stupidly in denial, and hella oblivious, heartbreak, abandonment issues, oral sex, body worship, drinking, no gangs AU, drunk sex (both reader and rin were out of it)
+rating - no underage consumption / 18+ only / dni if under 18 / ageless blogs dni
+taglist - @anxious-cherry-pie @sheeshizzy @sleeplessreader @magentaviolette @gajeelstan @nalyana
You first met Rindou at eight years old, when you were leaving your ballet class with your mother. On the way out, you peeked through one of the spare open doors to see a young boy practicing his splits in an empty room. Though it was only a couple of seconds you got a glimpse of him, you were already fascinated by the sheer fact alone that he could do the splits.
In your ballet class, no one could do them yet. You were competing with this other girl—the two of you being the only ones closest to the ground. You were determined to beat her, determined to talk to this boy and get him to teach you.
So you waited.
Your next class, a week later on Saturday, you told your mother to drop you an hour before your ballet class. You ran towards the door to the room you saw him in last time, but it was empty. So you checked the next one, then the one after that. Opening each door led to an empty one.
Fifteen minutes you’d spent searching through empty rooms. 
It’s clear he wasn’t here.
Your stomach rumbles loudly and you frown, all disappointed and hungry, as you walk to the entrance of the building over to where the vending machine is. Reaching inside your tiny backpack, you grab a couple coins you had taken from your piggy bank this morning and choose a chocolate bar.
Unknown to you, Rindou walks out from the bathrooms, dusting his clothes off and lining up behind you for the vending machine. You grab your bar and begin to walk away, not before catching a small glimpse of the blonde hair from yesterday, then you drop your gaze onto his face then scream.
“YOU!” 
It’s a miracle the floor was empty, only the receptionist at her desk typing away but didn’t bother to pay the two of you any attention. Rindou gets startled and flinches for a moment, before looking at you confused. “What?”
“YOU! You’re the guy from last week!”
You should really shut up now before you reveal that you’d been staring at him that one time, and now made it your life goal to search for him.
“What guy…?”
“The splits! You did them!” 
“Uhhh, yeah? So?” Rindou gives you one last look before reaching inside his pocket, grabbing a coin and putting it into the machine. You watch as a soda can drops out from the bottom and he bends down to grab it. 
“I—how did you learn how to do it? I really need to learn and I thought you could help me.” Your grip on your bag straps tighten as you wait for him to finish drinking his soda. It seems like forever, that one sip turned out to be him downing the drink for almost 30 seconds straight, all the while maintaining eye contact with you.
Just as he stopped drinking for air, your eyes sparkled, waiting for him to spill the secret, only for him to bring the drink back to his lips. 
He’s doing this on purpose.
“Hey! Stop wasting my time and tell me!” You’re so tempted to knock the drink from his hands and let it spill onto the floor, but one glance at the janitor mopping the floors on the other end of the room had you shaking your head, discarding your plan immediately.
Rindou laughs and removes his drink from his lips, forearm coming up to wipe the drops of soda from his lips. “Fine. I’ll tell you, but you cannot repeat the secret to anybody. Promise?”
You nod so fast you get dizzy. “Let’s pinky promise.”
“No. I don’t do that.” 
“Oh.” You feel a bit disappointed but don’t complain. He’s teaching you the secret to flexibility. You follow behind him with a smile as he walks towards the hallway with the rooms, throwing the can into the bin on the way out. The two of you enter an empty room and he closes the door behind him. 
“Okay, what now.”
Rindou looks at the clock, seeing it’s only 1:34PM. He knows most classes start at 2PM, so he doesn’t have long to teach you. He ends up showing you a couple stretches he does at home while he’s watching TV or playing board games with his older brother. The stretches hurt your thighs, but Rindou told you that’s how you know it’s working. But if the pain gets unbearable, then you should stop and take a break before continuing.
Taking his advice, you’d spent the next month doing those same painful stretches and it wasn’t long before you were the first person in your ballet class to ever do the splits.
You found Rindou at the park one day while you were hanging out with your friends. You didn’t keep in touch with Rindou, not seeing him at the leisure centre often, so once you saw him, you practically bolted towards him, all out of breath and talking way too fast for him to understand what you’re saying.
“Woah, calm down and talk slower.” 
You nod your head, taking a couple minutes to catch your breath before repeating what you had said earlier, about how you were the first one to do the splits in your class and you had gotten rewarded for it.
“Oh. It’s no problem.” Rindou smiles at you. You give him a toothy grin back and you’re tempted to hug him, but decide against it, not wanting to make things more awkward. 
Rindou had expected you to leave the second you thanked him, but was left confused as you stayed, eyes watching his every move with a smile on your face. “Are you here alone?” You ask him the question, looking around the park bench, seeing nobody else around him. 
“No. I’m here with my brother.”
You look around one more time and Rindou scoffs. “He’s not here right now, idiot. He’s on his way.”
“Ohhhhh.” You jump onto the park bench, resting your feet on the seats and sit next to him. “I’ll keep you company then.”
“Okay…” Rindou didn’t know if he was comfortable with this, but he never pushed you away or ignored you. He answered every single one of your questions that you’d asked him, trying to know more about him as a person. From your little questionnaire, you found out that he’s only one year older than you, he’s been doing gymnastics since he was 5 years old, he has an older brother called Ran, and lives with his single mother. He likes the colour blue—it doesn't matter the shade, whether light or dark, he loves it and even said he wants to dye his hair blue one day. You told him he’d look weird, he said that’s the point, and how he likes to stand out, which is why he loves doing the splits because it weirds people out.
His brother came around 10 minutes later, holding a plastic white bag in his hands. “Here, take it.” He lazily tossed the bag onto Rindou’s lap and you watched as Rindou dug through the contents like a mole digging through the earth. The smile on Rindou’s face when he saw the packet of jelly beans he’d been craving all week made you smile too. Rindou had a moody face most times, barely ever smiling or laughing, so to see this side of him over something so small made your heart twinge.
You were too focused on Rindou, and he was too focused on his candy, that you didn’t notice Ran scanning you up and down. “Who are you?” He asks after a moment and you break contact with Rindou’s face to look at his brother. If you had thought Rindou was tall, Ran was even taller. Long blonde hair into pigtail braids stopping around his mid shoulder. 
“I—uh—” You didn’t really know what to say. You can’t introduce yourself as ‘Rindou’s friend’ because technically, you weren’t friends. You barely spoke to him unless it regarded information about gymnastics and that was around a month ago. 
“She’s my friend.” Rindou speaks out for you, mouth full of jelly beans that made Ran’s face cringe up in disgust. But he was happy for his brother that he hadd managed to make a new friend.
“Cool. What’s your name?”
Rindou eagerly listened in too, waiting for you to say your name. It was then he realised he didn’t even know your name or anything about you. 
“Just call me [Name].”
“Nice name.” Rindou sends you a small smile before chomping down on the jelly beans again. Your friends, the ones you had arrived at the park with initially, approached the bench asking you if you were coming to the swings with them.
You shook your head and said you want to hang out with Rindou. They thought it was a bit weird at first. Hanging out with boys, but didn’t speak much of it and went down to the swings. Rindou was confused, why you chose him over your actual friends. But the outcome wasn’t so bad, because the two of you hung out even more often since then.
You were 11 years old when you’d dropped out of ballet and stopped doing anything flexible with your body. You’d just grown out of it. Rindou had also stopped, but it was a year before you. He was still insanely flexible that it pissed you off how he still had it in him even without stretching for all those years.
Puberty was probably the worst time of Rindou’s life.
Ever. 
It was then he realised he had some sort of feelings for you? He didn’t even know himself, it was confusing. When he had the talk with his mother about his body, and how he was ‘changing’, he coughed it up as bullshit, to which she punished him for swearing. But he didn’t take it back.
His mother gave him a list of things he wasn’t allowed to do with you anymore, like holding hands, sleeping on the same bed, and hugging. Rindou thought it was fucking ridicuous. There’s no way he just turned 13 and now all of a sudden everything is appropriate. Especially when you were his best friend.
He was extremely possessive over you, liking the fact he was your only male friend, because he felt favourited. Like you personally handpicked him to be best friends with out of all billions of guys in the world. You also felt the same about him. 
Rindou then realised why his mother told him a list of things he can’t do with you. Because you were also going through puberty aswell. He and his other friends had begun talking about suggestive topics, ones that shouldn’t even be in the minds of boys his age—but his one friend, Shion, had shown Rindou a porno magazine he stole from a store, and as they went through it, Rindou then realised exactly what his mother meant.
Because that same afternoon, when you had come to visit him, he shamefully found himself staring at more intimate personal areas of you, ones that not even a week ago, he wouldn’t even dare look at, or even care about.
Things became so awkward. For you, and for him. He couldn’t get you out of his mind, his young perverted mind practically objectifying you inside his mind every time he saw you, so he distanced himself from you. Barely spoke to you, barely came around to your place anymore. He hated the way whenever you tried to hold hands with him, he would instantly flinch as a reflex and retract his hand as if you had cooties, or when you’d hug him and he wouldn’t deepen it like he used to, instead patting your shoulder once before breaking the hug. 
You were sad about the situation. A part of you had a feeling this was coming because the entire friendship, all those years back, you never thought someone as cool as Rindou would ever settle with someone like you.You thought it was only a matter of time before he distanced himself and hung around more ‘popular’ people or whatever.
You could only imagine the surprise on your first day in college,when you saw Rindou again for the first time in 5 years. He looks so much different, yet the same at the same time. He was stuffing things into his locker as you mustered up the confidence to approach him. 
What were you going to say? It’s been five fucking years.
Five years before he abanonded you, left you without a single trace, not even an explanation. He just avoided you. Will he avoid you now? Is there even a point? Thoughts plagued your mind and before you even knew it, you turned on your heel and walked the opposite direction.
You were half way down the hallway before you realised your class was in the opposite direction. The direction you were currently avoiding because of a certain someone. You just hope and pray that on your way past, he doesn’t recognise you, or ends up ignoring you just like he’d been doing for the last 5 years.
It’s going well. Everything is going well. You think. Though your head is facing the ground, eyes are unsure what's ahead of you because you’re refusing to look up—he still recognises you.
“[Name]?” 
You practically freeze but don’t stop walking, fingers on your bag strap tightening as you count your footsteps in your head to distract your brain from the realisation that he recognised you. 
A hand tugs at your arm, and the numbers in your head come to a halt the moment Rindou stops you from walking. “Did you hear me?” 
Yes. You did. But you lie.
“Oh, I didn’t hear you. Hey…” It takes all your energy, but you look up at him. It’s the first time in years that you looked him directly in the eyes. He looks different. Way different. But those eyes are still the same. Those beautiful eyes that you always stared into when you were younger. His face is more defined now, which is normal because he’s 17 years old. His arms are more muscular now, concrete evidence that he’s been working out because he used to have very thin arms. His hair is now infact, blue, a colour you’d imagined in your mind the second he told you on that bench years ago his favourite colour is blue.
Rindou doesn’t consider himself an awkward person. He always speaks his shit upfront, doesn’t really have anxiety either. He and his brother were confident individuals, which is normal for boys who happen to get as much attention as they do now.
Yet, he found himself struggling to speak to you. It’s been years since he’d gradually stopped contacting you, a mistake he regrets even to this day. He didn’t mean to—he just felt so bad for you. He didn’t want to ruin your great friendship because his hormones decided to betray him. Things had gotten so awkward the moment he started thinking of you that way, and he knew things wouldn’t be the same.
Also because—he realised he loved you. He realised it at 14 years old, when all his friends were getting girlfriends, the only person he saw himself with was you. He tried getting a girlfriend—her name was Shiko. She was pretty, nice, popular too. Everyone at his middle school shipped them, but things just didn’t feel right. He found himself thinking about you during the span of their 4 month relationship. He even called her your name once, to which she was offended, but forgave him rather instantly. 
The moment he realised he loved you was the moment he knew he fucked up. Because you most definetly hate his guts now. He would hate you too if you had just stopped talking to him out of the blue with 0 explanation. 
He barely saw you around town either. You two went to completely different schools so that was also off the list. He missed you.
But was too scared to see you again.
Rindou looks at you now, throat dried and tongue-tied, thinking of words to say. On one hand, he was happy to see you again, excited almost. You’d grown up so much. You still look the same as you did, only your features have gotten sharper—a common occurrence of puberty. He’d recognise you in a huge crowd without hesitation. 
He keeps his eyes up, not wanting to make that same mistake he did when he was 13. He scans your face, trying to soak your features into his brain so he could replace that picture of 13 year old you inside his mind. 
“Hey… how’ve you been?” Rindou wants to slap himself. This is so awkward.
“I’m good. Yeah.” You try not to focus on the fact he still hasn’t moved his hand from your arm yet. You try not to focus on the feeling of his hands burning through your jacket sleeves, melting his handprint onto your skin. It’s hard, but you try your best. “How are you?”
You don’t want to know. 
Don’t want to know his life since he magically disapapeared from your life. Don’t want to hear about how much happier he is now that a loser like yourself wasn’t holding him back.
“I’m okay, yeah.”
“Nice.” You gently remove his hand from your arm and readjust your bag on your back. “Well, it was nice seeing you, but I got class now so—”
“Do you maybe want to hang out?” Rindou cuts you off, speaking without thinking the second he saw you about to leave. He wasn’t ready to see you go, not again. He doesn’t know another opportunity he would get to talk to you. Doesn’t even know where to find you after this. He’s not letting this chance go. 
Please say yes. He repeats over and over in his head as he watches you look down at the ground, weighing the pro’s and cons.
On one hand, you get to hang out with Rindou again. Your best friend. On the other hand, he did betray you—abandon you for 5 years without a simple explanation. You were so lonely, you didn't even make any other friends because none of them were as amazing as him. He had set the bar way too high and you weren’t sure anybody else could reach it.
It was fear; it kept holding you back and you weren’t sure you needed anymore mental strain on your mind. “I can’t—I’m sorry Rindou.”
He didn’t even bother to hide the disappointment on his face. Just as soon as you start walking again, he stops you. “Wait, can we please just talk? This weekend? I can take you to the park? Y’know…like old times.” When he see you bite your lip—an action you did when you were nervous or was deep in thought—he decided he needed to step up his game more.
Using his grip on your arm, he moves his fingers downwards—it’s a very risky move, but he’s all about risks—and holds your hand. “Please?”  
He knows—no, he hopes that his desperation is feeding into you, hopes that you can see how badly he wants you back in his life. The moment he held your hand, goosebumps erupted along your arm. It's a miracle you’re wearing a jacket right now, so you can’t embarrass yourself.
“Okay…we can talk after school.”
“Really?!” His face lights up, and you think it’s adorable.
“Yeah.” You quickly retract your hand from his own, stuffing it inside your pocket. “But I really have to go to class now, I don’t wanna be late.”
“Okay, I’ll meet you there, after school. Maybe 4? That good?” You nod and say no more, quickly rushing down the hall before you were late. 
Rindou spends the next hour or so preparing what exactly he’s going to say to you. You just make him so nervous, he’s never nervous to talk to someone, yet alone a girl. The second school’s ended, he’s heading over to the park, the same park he refused to visit and avoided all these years because of the sheer amount of memories flooding his brain the second he looks at it.
Rindou must’ve taken longer to arrive because by the time he gets there, you’re already there, sitting at the top of the slide as you scroll on your phone. Just staring at you was enough to get his heart pumping twice as fast. He climbs the ladder up the slide and takes a seat next to you. The area was so confined, both of your legs were touching and it left your faces heating up. You couldn’t look him in the eye, just waited for him to start speaking.
“Can you look at me?” Rindou’s staring at the side of your face as you look down at your hands, fiddling with the ring on your index finger. You stiffen when he asks that question, taking a moment before you lift your face up to him. You knew you both were close, but it wasn’t until your nose almost brushed  against his the second you looked up that it hit you how close the two of you were.
“I’m listening.”
“I’m sorry—for what I did back then. It was stupid of me to just leave you, I don’t know what happened—” A lie. He fell in love with you, that’s what happened, “I was so dumb back then, and I regret everything, I hope you know that. If I could go back in time, I’d never have done it. I really hope you can forgive me [Name], it’s an outdated apology—years overdue, but I want to cherish the time we have right now and maybe…start over? If you want to of course, it’s truly up to you, your the—” 
You begin laughing and Rindou has to stop talking because he isn’t sure whether to be angry that you’re laughing at him pouring his heart out to you in an apology, or whether he should be angry at himself, hating the way the sound of your laugh blesses his ears. 
“What’s so funn--”
“You’re stupid, Rin.” He knows you don’t mean any harm by it, because you’re smiling. He’s too busy focusing on the fact you called him his old nickname ‘Rin’ that he doesn’t see you leaning in for a hug. In the heavily confined space, it’s a little bit hard to get comfortable and hug you better without his elbows digging into the metal poles.
Rindou swallows, hard, the moment he wraps his arms around your body. It wasn’t enough. Taking another risk, he lifts you from his side onto his lap. You look up at him, confused, but words die inside your throat the second he deepens the hug. It’s much better now, having more arm room to fully wrap his arms around you, embracing you in his warmth. 
Any passerbys would probably be looking at the two of your weirdly, two kids hugging at the entrance of the slide, but none of you cared. You lifted your arms to wrap around his neck, resting your head just next to his neck, on his shoulders. He smelt amazing, so good that you found yourself closing your eyes, shifting closer to smell him better. 
This is creepy, you thought, but it didnt stop you. 
You aren’t sure how long you two hugged for; could’ve been 2 minutes, could’ve been 40 seconds. Time had stopped the entire length of the hug for the both of you. 
“Ran’s turning 20 in two months,” Rindou mumbles against your temple, his lips tickling your skin, “Do you want to come to his party with me?”
“I—I don’t know… parties aren’t really my thing, Rin. There’s way too many people there and I—”
The nickname again. 
“I’ll be there for you. I won’t leave your side the entire time.” He pulls away from the hug and you look up at him. “He’s gonna get alcohol, legally, since he’ll be of age, and it could be fun? You know, just both of us?”
“You won’t believe this—” You start, hiding behind a little laugh, “but I’ve never gotten drunk before.”
“What?” Rindou looks down at you, shocked. “No fuckin’ way—you serious?” He’s waiting for you to retract the statement but instead you shake your head.
“I mean it! For one, I could never buy alcohol, second, I dunno, I’m just scared.”
“Why are you scared?” He places his hands on the wooden surface behind him, leaning back to get a better look at your whole face. “Alcohol ain’t scary. Well—it’s bitter and strong, but nothing scary.”
“It’s not the drinking part that’s scary—It’s the fact that you’re not in control of your actions that’s scary.”
Rindou thinks back to all the stupid things he’s said and done all the times he was drunk and finds them more funny than scary. “The worst thing I did when I was drunk was get matching tattoos with Ran.”
“What?!” You shift on his lap to get a better look at him. “Tattoo? Where is it?” You lift his arm up, pulling up his sleeves and examine the length of his arm thoroughly for a better look for a tattoo. You also took the opportunity to get a better look at his build without coming off as creepy. His arm muscles tense under your grip and you have to bite your tongue. 
“It’s not there—” He chuckles, removing his arm from your grip. You watch with confused, wide eyes as his hand comes up to the hem of his shirt. He takes a moment before slowly pulling the material up past his stomach. From the second he lifted it, thick black ink appeared and as he lifted his shirt higher, the ink just kept appearing and your eyes followed the lines until his hands came to a stop. “There’s more—but I don’t think it’s appropriate to show it in public.” He exhales shakily, the muscles on his stomach tensing up as he watches your eyes examine all over his chest
He’s never felt self conscious before, not underneath your gaze. Your hand reaches out for a moment but you quickly retract it and look up into his eyes. “Can I—”
He’s silent when he nods; watching your fingers gently graze the tattoo from the bottom. Your lips are slightly parted as you run your fingers upwards, slowly, not even realising how much tension you’re causing him because you’re too engrossed in the tattoo, so many questions fill your mind the longer you run your fingers along it.
“Di—did it hurt?” You say the moment you reach the top, just where his fingers holding his shirt up, preventing you from going further. 
“I was drunk, so no. I can’t even remember it.” 
“Woah.” You look back down at it once more before biting your lip, deep in thought. Rindou would kill to know what you were thinking about—wants to know if you felt that tension earlier, if you were doing it on purpose to see how he would react, or if you were just genuinely interested in his tattoo.
“It’s only on one side.” You point out, “is it like a puzzle or something?”
Rindou shakes his head. “Nah. Ran has the other half.”
“Woah.” You repeat, genuinely impressed at that work of art on his chest. Your mind wonders, if you and him and remained friends all those years—would you have gotten that same tattoo with him? How would it even work—? 
“So—do you wanna come to his party with me? I promise, I won’t make you get matching tats with me if you get too drunk.”
You can’t help but smile. Fuck—you missed him so much, that you’re willing to head out of your comfort zone just to hang out with him more. “Yeah, I’ll go.”
During those two months prepartion for Ran’s birthday, you and Rindou used the party planning as an excuse to hang out with each other more often. He would walk you home after school, but since he was a year older, his classes ran on for an hour longer, meaning you’d wait outside his class for him. He’d take the train with you home, sometimes if you both were really bored, you’d walk the distance. 
This was only just the start. 
The start of your newfound friendship. The beginning of a new era. And god—were you excited.
His birthday finally rolled around and it was packed. It hit you just how many people loved Ran. His house is filled with random people you’ve never seen before, recognising a couple people, third years that go to your school. 
You take an earbud out from your ear, leaving it to hang low as you manoeuvre your way through the house, trying to find Rindou. You were wearing a simple outfit—but you had unknowingly grabbed the necklace Rindou’s mother picked out for him to give to you on your twelfth birthday. All the Rindouless years passing by made you forget about the necklace and its importance. But the second Rindou saw it, memories came flooding back. 
“You still have this?” Rindou points out about an hour after you had arrived, not knowing a proper way to bring it up. You turn to face him and the moment you do, he grabs the necklace, looping a finger around the simple chain. 
The action causes you to stiffen. He doesn’t break eye contact, waiting for you to answer the question. It’s not until you realise silent you’re being that you remember he was talking to you. “Oh! Yeah, I mean—I never threw it out.”
“Word? How does it even fit? It’s been years, no?” He doesn’t remove his fingers and to make matters worse, a very drunk and hyper person pushes past you aggressively, causing Rindou to grab onto your waist to keep you in front of him, not ready to see you get washed away into the crowd of very horny, drunk teenagers. 
The second you register his hand on your waist, your brain stops functioning. “It’s a pretty necklace—I didn’t want to throw it out.”
It’s not that pretty. The both of you know it. It’s just a simple silver chain. No jewel, no pendant, no diamonds.
 No, anything. 
It’s only pretty and special to you, because the person who gave it to you was pretty and special to you. Rindou gives you a smile before a random girl taps onto his shoulder, whisking his attention away. 
You can’t help but frown as you watch her whisper something into his ear. It’s awkward. It hit you how many girls actually like Rindou—and you can’t even blame them to be honest. 
Look at him. 
“Not today, I’m busy.” Rindou responds a moment after and the girl frowns for a moment before her eyes land on the birthday boy himself. She fixes the straps on her dress, and pushes her boobs up before fixing her face and heading straight towards him. 
“I hate it when girls do that,” Rindou says after a moment and you take your eyes off her form to look at him with an intrigued brow. 
“Do what?”
Rindou looks down at his drink and shakes his cup a little bit, watching the liquid swish around the walls of the cup. He lazily shrugs before continuing, “Thirsting over me and Ran. I mean—maybe he likes the attention, and I used to, but it’s getting annoying now. Like, I’m my own person, not just some sex object to satisfy you. Y’know?”
Rindou realises he’s ranting and instantly closes his mouth. “I mean, You probably get it, don’t you?”
“Get what?” 
He wishes your innocence was just an act, one you used to attract guys towards you, but these two months he’s spent you made him realise you truly were slightly innocent when it came to these sorts of conversations. Makes him wonder if you haven’t lost it yet. 
“The whole being used and stuff. Don’t you have guys after you?”
You shake your head. “Nope. I’ve never done that stuff before.” Rindou stops shaking his drink, fingers squeezing around the cup as he looks at you.
“You serious?”
“Yah.”
“Bu—but you—” You’re so hot , he thinks, but doesn’t say aloud. “Not even one guy wants you?”
“Jeez, when you say it like that, it makes me sound like a loner.” You say with a laugh at the end, but now you’re actually deeping the situation. You’re almost 19 and haven’t even had your first kiss yet. “Ohmygod, I’m going to die a virgin.” You say without thinking and Rindou watches you, confused, as you practically have a mental breakdown in your head.
“You good?”
“No! I mean, shit, I need to find a boyfriend, or at least lose my v-card before I turn 19, this is so embarassing, god—” 
“I mean—I coul—” He instantly closes his mouth, realising just how stupid that idea was. He just rekindled his friendship with you, now he wants to ruin it all because of a stupid offer. “Nevermind. And it’s good that you’re a virgin, y’know—” He stops talking because you’re not listening to him, he can tell by the way you’re biting your lip, probably thinking of a bunch of boys in your class you could potentially lose it to. 
He wishes you’d just open your eyes and look at him. He’s right there. But in your confused mind, you don’t think someone as hot and cool and Rindou could ever get with someone like you. Infact, just looking at that girl from earlier, it’s clear Rindou hooked up with girls like her before. All pretty and confident—things that you believed you weren’t.
So Rindou was off the hook. Not even a possibility.
“Dude, dude! RINDOU!” A loud deep voice startles you, and Rindou. Shion is practically out of breath when he places a hand on Rindou’s shoulder, using him practically as an armrest. “Ev—everybody’s downstairs—beer pong—” He says between breaths, then points a finger towards the door, “Go.”
“What?” 
“I said—” Shion finally gets his breath back, now standing up tall. “Everybody playing beer pong downstairs and they called for you.”
“Beer pong?” 
Rindou turns around to face you, completely ignoring Shion’s drunk ass. “Yeah, beer pong it’s basically—” You listen to him explain the rules of beer pong, the both of you completely ignoring Shion who keeps on tugging the back of Rindou’s shirt to get his attention.
“Fuck off, Shion. I’m talking.” Rindou punctuates his sentence by wrapping an arm around your shoulder, tugging you gently to his side. His voice gets a tad softer when he looks down at you. “Do you wanna play?”
“I don’t know…”
“Please? For me?” 
You find it difficult to say no—but you do anyway. “I can just watch you and I’ll cheer you on.”
“Nah. I want you on my team.”
“Stop fucking flirting. Are you playing or not?!” Shion is starting to get annoyed, scoffing loudly before heading back towards the door he entered through. Rindou looks at you one more time, the question still lingering on his tongue before you finally give in and nod. 
Rindou is smiling the entire way downstairs. By the time you get to the basement, you see a pool table along with around 15 people downstairs. The only people you recognise is Shion because of earlier. There’s two boys on the other end of the table, one with long black hair, one with crazy pink hair and scars. 
“He’s here!” Sanzu quickly points to the other end of the table. You both are being dragged to the opposite end of the table, you being in front as Rindou stands behind you with his hands on your shoulders. You were so fucking nervous. The cups were already set up in a triangle, half filled with beer. 
“Are you ready to lose?” Koko sticks his tongue out as he flips the coin, catching it on the back of his hand before covering it with his spare hand. “Heads or tails.”
Rindou squeezes your shoulders to get your attention before he whispers into your ear because the room was far too loud for him to speak at regular volume. “You choose.”
You turn around to look at him, ready to protest before someone is yelling ‘HURRY UP!’ 
“Tails?” You blurt out quickly, seeing Koko remove his palm from his hand. His face scrunches up in annoyance as he shows the coin facing tails.
“Yeah! Suck it, Kokonoi.” Rindou laughs from behind you before stretching along the table to grab the ball. “Throw it into a cup, just like I told you.” Your fingers brush together as you nod your head and take the ball from him. You toss the ball into a cup, only for it to bounce off the top and flop back onto the table.
You frown but quickly cheer up when you hear Rindou console you, telling you it’s common for that to happen. You notice Rindou never steps away from you to get a better shot, he stands behind you; his chest against your back the entire time, the close proximity is making you feel dizzy and lightheaded—and you haven’t even tried alcohol yet.
One hand on your shoulder as he makes his shot.
The game was more fun than you thought. Though you and Rindou lost because Sanzu was surprisingly amazing at aiming, you had drunk around 7 cups of beer, and you started to feel a bit lightheaded. You tug on Rindou’s sleeve to pull him down to your level to whisper into his ear. “I’m ffeel-feeling a bit dizzy.” 
“For real? Damn, you a lightweight, huh?” You furrow your brows as he speaks even though you’re barely registering what he’s saying. “I’ll take you upstairs, c’mon.” Rindou holds onto your hand, giving it a tight squeeze to reassure you that he’s there.
It helps and you drown out the noise of his friends screaming at him to come back and play another round. You drown out the loud blast of music coming from the living room, drown out everything, only registering the lock on Rindou’s bedroom door locking the moment you enter inside.
“Sit down on my bed, there.” You obey, even though the ground looked like it was about to eat you whole, you crossed the distance and fell onto his bed, sinking your face in his black sheets. 
You hear the sound of a fridge opening, looking over at Rindou who grabs a bottle of alcohol from his minifridge before coming to sit down next to you. “R-rrreally Rin? You’re drrinking more?”
“I’m not drunk yet,” He begins to pour it into a cup, “I’m a heavyweight, so I gotta drink loads before I get drunk.”
“Ohh,” It explains a lot, why he’s practically normal and functioning like a regular human being, unlike you, struggling to keep your eyes open but at the same time, feel a sort of tingling running down your legs that make you want to run around. It’s confusing.
“You wanna try some? You might like it, it’s better than that nasty beer.”
“Yyeah. That beer was really horrible,” You cross your legs and watch as Rindou passes you his cup. Sober you probably would’ve been a little too shy to drink from the same cup as Rindou—but you barely had time to overthink any scenarios. Gulping down the drink that in fact, tastes much better than that horrible beer.
“Oh my god.” You grab the bottle from Rindou and he watches you, amused, as you pour more of the wine into the red cup.
“Slow down [Name],” He tries to get you to drink slower, but you’re not listening, already gulping it down too fast.
You want to puke.
But you don’t stop drinking. It tasted…sweet? But also, really bitter? You didn’t know, all you knew was that your mouth loved it, and wanted more.
Rindou eventually could see that you were clearly drunk now, your tispy behaviour long gone now as you stare up at his ceiling and your fingers draw imaginary circles into the air.
It’s adorable.
You’re adorable.
It takes Rindou six more cups of that heavy wine before he’s joining you. The two of you are laughing at the ceiling. You aren’t sure what you’re looking at, but the room is spinning and you can’t stop laughing.
“Rinnn,” you stop laughing and sit up from the bed to turn and face him. He nods at you to continue talking. “Why did you leave me those years? Was it something I did?”
One thing you should know about drunk Rindou, is that he has no filter. 
“Cause I was attracted to you; jerked off to you, and had thoughts about you.” He places his hands behind his head and looks back up at the ceiling. “So I felt guilty, and just avoided you.”
“That’s it?” You frown.
“Yeah—? Wait, why aren’t you mad? Aren’t you all about feminism and that shit, not wanting to be objectified or whatver? Abolish the patriarcy, sexism whatnot?”
“I mean, I am. Fuck the patriarcy, but still. I don’t care that you did that to me.” You shift to lay down on the bed, propping yourself up on one elbow before turning to face Rindou. “Besides…I also thought about you like that.”
The world stops for Rindou at approximately 10:23PM on a Friday. 
“What?” He turns to face you, both of you don’t care about the close proximity, your nose brushing together as you both subtly lean in closer. “You did?”
“Yeah…only a couple times.”
“What exactly….” Rindou shifts closer to you, using one hand to lift your leg up to rest on his own, “did you think about?”
You break the eye contact only for him to drag your face back to his eyes. “Answer me.”
“I—” You swallow. Even though your mind is hazy right now—both of your minds are—you still feel the long forgotten anxiety come back the moment he asked you this. “I can’t remember.”
“When was the last time you fucked yourself thinking of me?” He’s so close. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up when you feel his lips brush against your neck. He’s not kissing you, no—he’s just waiting for the right moment. The second he hears you exhale shakily, he presses a kiss on your skin, slowly moving upwards to your jawline. “Answer me.”
“Last week—”
“Hmm.” Rindou hums against your skin, dragging his hands down your body to rest against your waist. “And you forgot, already?”
“Yeah…?” Your voice trails off into the moan the second he bites down against your skin. Your hands fly to his hair to keep him in place, subconsciously pressing him closer to your skin. “Fuck—that feels so nice.”
You moan again when he hums, the sound vibrating against your skin. You aren’t sure what came over you, but you’re pushing him onto the bed and climbing over his to straddle him. His hands instantly fly to your hips, keeping you atop his own as you lean down to kiss him. 
He meets you halfway, letting go of one of your hips to cradle the back of your head, but also to ensure you’re not going anywhere. He tastes a bit like a mixture of beer and that strong wine, but you don’t care. All form of sense overridden from the sheer fact alone that you’re straddling your bestfriend/crush while his tongue is currently down your throat.
You’re not sure where to put your hands, having his drunken kiss be your first, so you rest them aside his head, gripping onto the sheets of the pillow beside him. There’s a tingly feeling down there, that only grows stronger when you move your hips front to back, practically grinding against Rindou’s crotch.
The second your clothed cunt grazes his cock, he’s gripping you in place, moving you along his length at his own pace. His iron grip rocking you back and forth prevents your movements, and you slowly lose control of your own pleasure, but it gets amplified the second Rindou breaks away from the kiss.
“Take off your shirt.”
You nod, sitting back up straight and remove your shirt from over your head. Rindou’s mouth goes slack, slightly agape as he looks at his bestfriend in just her bra. It feels sinful and dirty, seeing you this way, a way he’s imagined for so long and never thought he’d experience the real deal.
“You’re so beautiful—” Rindou doesn’t waste any time, sitting up abruptly as he sucks more lovebites onto your neck. You throw your head back, allowing him more room and perfect access to your body. The feeling of his soft lips making their way from your collarbone—down to your chest makes you squirm.
“W-wait—” You call out and he pulls away to look up at you, confused to see if he’d crossed any boundaries. You reach behind yourself to unfasten your bra and he groans when he sees you naked, topless atop of him, for the first time. 
“Goddamn,” His lips are back onto yours, kissing you passionately and professionally. You wind your fingers into his long hair whilst he grips onto your right breast, kneading it in his big palms—tilting his head to readjust the positioning of the kiss.
You arch your back into his touch; also deepening the kiss. Rindou lets go of your breast and quickly flips your positions. The next thing you know, you’re underneath him, squirming under his heavy gaze. He rakes his eyes from your pretty face, down to your bare chest, all the while licking his lips—his brain thinking of 1001 ways to devour you.
He leans down to your chest, pressing soft kisses against your areola to tease you. The feeling of his nose brushing against your nipple had you biting back a moan. The air around it was so cold, you needed his warm mouth to fill it. “Rin…c’mon—please?” You breathlessly beg, eyes rolling back when he listens to your request, sucking a nipple into his mouth.
The sheer warmth had you arching your back upwards, forcing him to take more into his mouth, and gripping onto his thick hair strands. The sensation is amplified, tenfold, the moment  he flicks his tongue against your nipple, rubs slow circles with the tip of his tongue before pulling off, making sure his lips stay attached to your nipple until he’s pulled off far enough.
He repeats this with the other one; all the while tugging at the waistbands of your pants. You gently push him off you, raising your hips slightly so he can shimmy your pants down your legs. Tossing them somewhere on the ground, he lifts his own shirt up and over his head, and it’s then you finally get to see the full tattoo.
Rindou’s eyes widen when he looks back down and realises he accidentally shed your panties too along with your pants. He’s staring down at you bare and naked, and you’re about to close your legs from humiliation but he stops you—using both hands to spread you apart.
He mutters something underneath his breath, using two fingers to push your folds apart. The wet squelch made his cock literally jump in his underwear. “You’re so—so…wet.” Before you could even tell him to stop looking, he dives in, using his tongue to lick and suck at the slick coating your folds before sucking your clit into his mouth eagerly.
“God—fffuck—” Your voice was shaky as you gripped onto his hair, literally pulling the strands the longer you felt his tongue flick your clit at top speed. Rindou hums into your cunt, licking you up from top to bottom before tickling his tongue at your hole. It was hard to squeeze through, but he managed it well. The moment his tongue slid in, he grunts, hard, when you tug at his hair, uncontrollable moans leaving your mouth as he fucks you with his tongue.
“Rin—Rindou, I’m, I—fuck, gonna cum—I’m gonna—!” Rindou digs his nails deeper into your thighs, leaving crescent shaped marks on your skin as proof he was the first one between your legs. Your back arches as your muscles convulse and contract, practically drowning him between your legs as you cum.
Rindou retracts his tongue from your pussy and cleans you up, licking your folds a couple more times before shifting to your thighs, giving you a couple lovebites to further reinforce his presence before kissing his way up your perfect naked body, reaching the top as he kisses you sloppily. Your hands tangle themselves in his hair again, pulling him even closer to you.
After a couple more minutes of kissing, your hand trails downwards, tugging at the waistband of his pants. “Please, let me…” 
“No. I can’t—” Rindou tugs your hand away from his pants. It’s different when he’s giving to you, not taking from you. He can’t explain it. Even in his drunk, hazy mind, he knows it won’t be right to let you touch him like that, no matter how hard you beg.
“B-but I want to.” You sit up, pulling him back next to you. You lean down, giving him another kiss to distract him. He’s quickly melting into the kiss, cradling the back of your head to feel you more. You slide your hands down his body, into his pants and start to rub against his cock. 
Rindou actually groans into the kiss, breaking it to curse under his breath when he feels you play with his tip, rubbing circles along the slit. “Shit, [Name], keep going.” He leans back against the pillow and removes the stray hairs from your face as he watches your hand through his pants jerk him off, slowly.
You frankly, didn’t know what you were doing.
The two of you knew this was wrong. Not only are you bestfriends, but you aren’t supposed to be this way when you’re both not in the right state of mind.
You both knew but it didn’t stop you both.
You flop back down next to Rindou after making him cum. Your wrist aches, but it’s all worth it when Rindou snuggles up next to you, wrapping you tight in his grip and gives your bare shoulder soft kisses.
You weren’t sure what was going to happen next. A part of you wants to remember this moment forever, but when you wake up, you know last night would’ve been just a blur. 
***
i was too lazy to proofread it so ignore mistakes hehe....🙎🏽
reblogs are much appreciated thank you for reading to the end☹️
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spectrerie · 1 year
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Would you let me go? Even if I asked you to
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Simon Ghost Riley x Fem!Reader.
Requested by my awesome mutual @lululandd
Part One. ~ 3k words.
Simon meets a young woman on a night out with the 141 ft. Los Vaqueros. He's drawn to protect her and when she needs him, he makes a promise he's not sure he can keep. With one war over another begins, and his task: Protecting you, no matter what it takes.
POV alternates between Ghost and the Reader.
this is a stalker fic where Ghost watches over the reader and discovers that he's not the only one doing so. Eliminate the hostiles and fulfil his mission. Easy. Right?
TW: Stalking, kidnapping, murder, extreme depictions of violence, swearing and foul language, threats, minor character death. Possessive!Simon, Toxic!Simon
Additional parts to come, with additional warnings. This is just a general TW for the whole fic
“I swear lads, I swear I thought I was gonna die of laughter if he didn’t kill me first!” Drinks sloshed and laughter rang out around them as Gaz recounted some sage, albeit dodgy, advice Price had given him. 
A night out with the 141 and two of the friends they’d made along the way was long overdue. The weeks of blood, sweat, and smoke had taken its toll on them. Killing came with a a cost, and they paid it gladly. For their countries, for the world. For themselves. 
Life in battle was easy, everything came down to friend or foe. Friends were hard to make, and the latter easy to dispose of. Usually. Killing could be easy, if they let it be. If that made them bad people so be it, they’d be bad to keep the balance. But not tonight. 
Tonight donned in their civvies they occupied a corner booth of a hole in the wall pub, a town away from the barracks. It was their last night all together, one of their first nights all safe. Before the Cowboys went back home to fight another day. Before Soap went back to Scotland to see the country he missed dearly. And before Ghost and Gaz went back to their corners of England. Before Ghost crawled back to the barracks, to the only life he knew how to live. 
“Ah, will ye fuck off, ‘e didnae say that!  ‘ E’s been up te his oxters in work.” Soap barked out as he clutched his sides. The group waited with baited breath, stifling peals of laughter as they waited for Ghost’s response. 
“Christ, Johnny. In English?” The stoic blonde said from across the table. 
“Eh? D’ye no ken what I’m sayin’ L.t? That was bloody English.”  Soap whined back as he closed his bleary eyes. The first of the laughs began to eek out. When he opened them the blonde Lieutenant was staring back at him with his dark eyes. “Gaun'ae no dae that? That was bloody English! Fine. ’Oh emm gee, he did not say that. He has like totally been up to his armpits with work!’ THERE!” Johnny shouted back in a mock American accent. 
The group fell about themselves with laughter as Simon shook his head slowly. 
They needed this. This release. There’d been other nights for tears, for recalling the horrors they’d seen over the months, but not tonight. Tonight was only for good things. For accents coming out  too thick, for drinking too much knowing you were in safe company, for friendship. 
Ghost stood and pulled his dark cap lower, casting a shadow over his face. “Same orders, yeah?” He asked the group and he walked out of the booth. He had to good sense to leave the mask at home. Or so they thought. He had it folded in the inner pocket of his jacket, his armour against the world.
“I’ll have a Dom Perignon if you’re buying, whole bottle please.” Called out Gaz as Alejandro poured him another shot of earthy Tequila. 
Ghost shook his head and huffed out a low laugh, chasing tequila with pints. They were clever chaps, weren’t they?
As he made his way across the bar, the din of dozens of conversations hushed as he walked by, the packed room parting in his wake. He cut an intimidating figure. Six foot two, almost six four in this heavy dark boots. A myriad of faded scars dusting his jaw and hands, the only part of him easily visible. The brightest thing about him was his blonde hair, neatly tucked away from prying eyes. He didn’t need the mask tonight. His crew knew his face, and no one in the pub could bring themselves to look at it, averting their eyes sheepishly as he moved by them. At most people glance up at the top of his head in awe, surveying the space he took up with his sheer bulk and height. He didn’t need to be Ghost. Not here.
He placed a hand on the bar and slid in, eliciting no complaints from the other patrons. What could they have said? Move? That’d be the day. 
— — — 
“So you’re not going crack a smile, baby? I thought that was a pretty good one.” The drunken lout beside you laughed in your face, the smell of hops, stale cigarettes and chips blowing at you. 
“Ha. Ha.” You said dryly. Turning your attention to the bartender trying to get drinks for you and your ever-late friend. You felt an overly warm, sticky hand slide around your waist, tugging you back towards him. “Alright then, you tell me a joke, if I’m no good at ‘em.” 
“I’d rather not, sorry.” You said with a terse smile, eyes drifting back to the bartender hoping to catch his eye. 
“Okay, okay, let’s play a new game if you don’t like jokes. If I guess your name you buy me a pint,  but if you tell me now I’ll buy you one.” He winked at you, or rather he tried to. 
“How about I tell you and you go away?” You asked, before barking out your name and turning away, though his grip on you tightened.  
“Oi, mate. Two Coronas, three lagers. Whatever’s easy, yeah?” 
A low voice beside you called out to the bartender you’d been playing a one sided game of cat and mouse with. 
“Is Carling alright?” The bartender’s attention went straight to the owner of the voice beside you, as did yours. You were about to tell him you’d been here first, as you looked up and you were met  not with a face, but the middle of a wide set of shoulders. Was this a man or a mountain?
“Excuse m-“ craning your neck up you caught a glimpse of a face and your protests died on your lips. The giant was handsome. In a rugged, cold sort of way, but handsome nonetheless. He cast a glance in your direction that turned cold quickly. All the heat of your body pooled at the bottom of your stomach, you didn’t even notice the arm around your waist had dropped immediately. 
“Hmm?” He grumbled in way of a prompt. 
“Uhh, I was— I was just going to say I’ve been waiting.” 
“I don’t know you.” He said curtly. A normal person would ask ‘do I know you?’, or rather a normal person would understand basic bar etiquette. Though it seemed this man had no need for niceties. 
“Well no, I was waiting to order my drinks. Didn’t anyone teach you any manners?” You said, letting go of your decorum. Two could play at this game. You’d had enough of men thinking they could have whatever they wanted.
“What?” He said, turning away from the bartender. Your bravado dissipated as quickly as you’d found it. You felt your eyes grow round in shock and a heat creep up your neck to your face. 
“I just-“ your sentence was cut off by a low laugh from him as he said “What, as in what were you going to order?” 
“Ah… just two ciders, sorry.” Fuck. Where had all your confidence gone, he wasn’t going to hit you for teaching him manners. 
His gaze grew cold again, well maybe he was. 
“You let your girl do all the talking, do you?” He said, seemingly to the man who’d been pestering you for the better part of your evening thus far. 
“I’m not his anything.” You said before the man behind you had a chance to speak. 
The handsome one turned away from you again, “And two ciders, cheers.” He said to the bartender. When the man behind the bar asked what sort he angled himself back to you again, you sheepishly pointed to the tap of your choosing and said your thanks quietly. 
You heard your name from the pest behind you and ignored it, watching the bartender pull your pints along with those of the only person at the bar you had any interest in. 
“Fine then, be a bitch.” The man huffed and walked away, you only knew because your new companion’s eyes watched him closely as he left. Tracking him through the crowd. Something about him made your skin tingle. Made the hairs on your body stand. There was an edge to him that scared you.
“Sorry about him” you said at the same time, eliciting a laugh from you both. 
“So, you planning on neckin’ two pints or are you waiting on someone?”  He asked as he slid his card over to the barman. 
“Oh, no you don’t have to pay for these. Please, let me ge-“ 
“Think of them as payment, for tonight's lesson. Anyway, are you alone?” 
“Oh, I’m just waiting on a friend.” You shook you head, confused. “Wait. What lesson?” 
He laughed, tucking his card back into his pocket, arranging his three pint glasses into a triangle, then balancing the two bottles on their rims. He’d never be able to carry these back to his table, at least not without spilling half their contents.
“In manners,” he said with a wink before grasping the drinks in his big hands and slipping back into the flow of the crowd, disappearing like a ghost. 
— — — 
“Bloody took you long enough, L.t” Gaz crowed, clearly they’d need less pints and a few glasses of water to offset all the tequila they’d drunk in Simon’s absence. 
“Did you go to brew la cheve, Ghost?” Rudy chimed in, emboldened by the alcohol. 
Ghost huffed and set the full drinks down deftly. “Shut up and drink.” He didn’t have to tell them twice. 
The conversation and alcohol flowed easily as the boys cleansed themselves of the stresses of war. Minutes rolled into hours and their raucous laughs drew a few sidelong glances to their table, they couldn’t care less. 
“Right,” Garrick said as he stood, clapping his hands together and rubbing them mischievously. “I’d murder a kebab right now. Have you lads had kebabs before?” He asked their Mexican companions. Soap stood and stretched, the promise of a trip to the chippers rousing him from his stupor. “Not a kebab on a stick, like… with lamb and cabbage and sauce, y’know. A kebab.” he chimed in, clapping Gaz on the back for his enlightened suggestion. Alejandro and Rudy shook their heads with a laugh, “teach us the British way, amigos. Where do we get this ‘kebab’?” Rudy asked as he and the other two men stood from the table. 
The pros and cons of a kebab after a night out were being discussed as though life’s meaning could be deciphered after one drunken bite. As Soap and Gaz evangelised a groggy ‘no!’ caught Simon’s attention. The quiet pleads were mixed with a name that was new, yet familiar. 
“One second, lads,” he said as he moved ahead of the group, instinctively making his way towards the source of the disquieting feeling growing in his chest. Something was wrong, very very wrong. 
“No, I don’t— I want to go. I don’t— I’m too tired. I want—no,” the girl from the bar was pulling against the grip of the man who’d ran with his tail between his legs at the first sign of confrontation. Simon didn’t have to listen to the young woman’s garbled sentences to know this shouldn’t be happening. She didn’t know him. She didn’t trust him. Neither did he. The would be assailant kept muttering her name and steering her towards the door as she shook her head and kept glancing behind her. 
“Oi. Is there a problem, mate?” Simon asked, as his friends caught up with him. The man blanched as he looked up at Simon, growing quiet as the girl's protests got louder, drawing the attention of the few patrons left in the pub. 
“She’s wasted, I’m just trying to get her home,” a shaky laugh punctuated the lie. 
“I’m sure. But she doesn’t know you.” Simon pushed the mans shoulder, sending him two steps back and giving the girl the chance to shake him off. 
“She… her friend knows me, he told me to get her home. Right? David,” he reached out to the girl in an attempt to get her attention. The look in Simon’s eyes told him that wasn’t a smart move. “Hey, tell them that David told me to-” before the sentence could end Soap spoke up, putting himself between Simon and the man, as Simon stepped closer. Whether this David existed or not didn’t matter, the Lieutenant was ready to separate the man’s lying head from his body. A scene was ill advised, especially if the police ended up getting involved. 
“Alright,” Soap said, he reigned in his brogue as best he could, “let’s not put words in anyone’s mouth.” He began trying to deescalate the situation, much to Simon’s irritation. The girl looked up at him and he watched as she took in his face and something dawned on her. 
“Ah, manners,” she said, mumbling to herself as she drew nearer to him. Simon couldn’t help but soften at that, pulling her close and wrapping an arm around her protectively. She’s been full of fire at the bar, a small part of him felt more sad than angry at the situation she found herself in. Maybe he should have stayed with her, at least until her friend came. 
“Yeah, that’s me. Can you tell me your friends name, or what they look like? Maybe we can find-”
“The ghost with manners” she said weakly as she pressed her head against his chest, body going slack, knees buckling beneath her. Simon’s arms reached around her, his grip like a vice pressing her closer to him. The Ghost. 
Ghost. How could she know that name?
He clung to her weak frame like a raft on a rocky sea. His fingers digging into the soft flesh of her as they both spiralled. 
— — — 
Weak pleads and careful promises swirled behind you, you couldn't hear them. Not really. Every fibre of your being was fixed on the man holding you up. The ghost from the bar with the big hands and scary eyes. But he wasn’t scary now, not anymore. Not to you. 
“Hey,” his deep voice rang out above the world around you, though he spoke to you gently. A whisper that contained the roar of a distant sea. Who? Who was he? 
“Simon, my name’s Simon.” 
Shit. Had you said that out loud? Why couldn’t you tell? Why couldn’t you stand? You tried to take a shaky step back, to get free. To get a better look at this ‘Simon’, but your legs wouldn’t work, the muscles felt heavy and useless. How were you still standing, why couldn’t you remember how you’d gotten here? 
You and David had been drinking, laughing. He’d gone to the bathroom. Said he’s meet you at the door and you’d get a taxi home together. Then the room began to slip away.  A tide pulled you to the door. Sticky hands, a shake voice, and your name over and over again as you were pulled away.  You’d wanted to fight but your body wouldn’t let you. You wanted to scream but your voice wouldn’t work right, your words didn’t fit together. The last few minutes became a puzzle somehow, and it terrified you.
Then Simon. 
Like some vengeful angel, he appeared from nowhere. Pulling you close, holding you up though you felt as heavy as a star. 
“Please, Simon… Simon,” you muttered, not sure whether he could hear you or if you were speaking in your mind again. Though a part of you felt like he could hear everything in there too. 
“I’ve got you, don’t worry. I’ve got you.” 
Suddenly you were warm and weightless, drifting through the cold air. Fear beat in your chest, thumping against your ribs like a molten ball. You were going to die. You were certain. Your stomach rolled at the realisation. 
“You’re not going to die, pet. You’re just a bit poorly now. But I’ve got you.” 
His voice was closer now, warm lips pressed against your ear as he spoke into your mind. You wanted to believe him, so badly. You wanted to believe it was true. 
“It is. I won’t let you die. I swear.” 
“Don’t you let— don’t let me down. Are you gonna drop me?” please don't, Simon. Please. 
“No, never.”
Simon.  
Your ghostly Simon. The word shone bright in your foggy mind. “Never— don't hurt me.” 
Something deep in you told you he couldn't.
— — — 
The nurse at the desk was asking all the wrong questions. Simon could guess the answers she wanted, he could form a loose timeline in his mind. A version of events that made sense. But one thing was certain, he’d have to embellish the truth to get the right result. Civilian life was easier in someways, harder in others. 
He gave her a name, gave an approximation of an age but he wouldn’t be allowed to stay with you unless he started filling in the blank spaces. He’d made a promise to you, and he’d keep it. 
“I need a surname for the intake form, sir. Do you actually know this young lady?” 
He sighed. He wasn’t the villain here. He knew how it looked, five men bringing a clearly intoxicated girl into the ER was dodgy. But he wasn’t the villain. 
“Yeah, I already said that. Look, she needs help, and I have to stay with her, she’ll be looking for me when she wakes up.” 
“I understand that sir, but only family are allowed to stay with patients overnight. And you still haven’t given me her—“
Surname and relationship to him. Yeah, because he didn’t know. All he knew was that he had to be here, all night if it took that long. He had to be there when you woke up, so he could fulfil his promise. So you'd know you were safe.
“Riley. It’s Riley.” 
“And you’re family?” 
Was he?
“Yes, of course.” 
Now he was.
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zzprompto · 4 months
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thanks for requesting. i accidentally deleted this draft, luckily i had a screenshot of the request.
☆ mutual
cloud strife x ftm reader [he / him]
sypnosis: above.
the lowercase is intentional !
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cloud and [name] were friend ever since they were little.
sure, the two boys weren't that close with eachother, but they were still friends. even if cloud talked to tifa most of the time and went off to join the soldier program, the two of them were still friends. no matter what.
[name] had always liked cloud. the young boy liked how strong willed cloud was and how determined the blonde was to be the number one solider. it really inspired [name], and made him fawn over cloud.
but he'd never say anything, of course. he was too scared and he never knew if cloud reciprocated. [name] was a trans boy after all, so what if cloud didn't even like him as a guy? it would break the boy into little pieces. he wouldn't be able to take it.
what [name] didn't know was that cloud felt the same. cloud always liked [name], not tifa, not zack or anyone else. just [name]. he always wanted to get closer to [name] and confess, but he couldn't. he was scared of rejection, the same way that [name] was. but that didn't stop either from liking one another.
it had been a few years since the two past met, cloud had left nibelheim to join the soldier program and [name] left to explore midgar. they hadn't caught up or seen eachother ever since then.
[name] was walking around wall market, taking in the vibrant lights outside the various buildings and the bustling nightlife. he had been there multiple times before, but each time it felt like the first.
there were so many things to explore at wall market, so many things to try. that's why [name] kept coming back. it was a fun experience, not just for the honey bee in or the various attractions in honour of don corneo. the buildings themselves and the people are what attracted [name].
[name] was minding his business, doing his usual as he went around the area. he looked at a few shops, inspected some materia and weapons on display and he got some food.
the young man decided to walk around with his food, which ended up being a bad idea. there were huge crowds everywhere on this particular day, and he just happened to bump into someone.
all of [name]'s food went flying, straight onto the floor. it was all ruined. people were stepping on it as it dropped to the floor, so [name] definitely wouldn't be able to eat it anymore.
[name] groaned and he looked down at the floor in annoyance before speaking, because the person he had bumped into for some reason hadn't left yet.
"you should watch where you're going next time." [name] grumbled to himself, unsure if the other person actually heard him or not. to his surprise, they did.
"you should also watch where you're going, some people are in a hurry." the person scoffed, and their voice sounded oddly familiar.
[name] raised his eyebrow and he looked up, still annoyed at the fact that this stranger made him drop his food. "well that's not my problem, is it? my problem is the fact that you made me drop my food. i spent a lot of gil on that-"
then, that's when [name] saw who it was that bumped into him.
it was cloud.
his old friend and crush was standing right there infront of him as multiple people barged past the two of them. [name] couldn't believe his eyes.
"holy shit." [name]'s mouth dropped as he stared infront at cloud. he did not think he was going to run into cloud at wall market of all places. shouldn't he be doing some soldier training right now anyway?
[name] wasn't mistaken. he thought he was seeing things but it truly was cloud infront of him.
the striking blonde hair, but with the ponytail now gone. the blue eyes that had a hint of green in them due to the mako. the pale skin that was reflecting all of the neon signs.
it truly was cloud. [name] wasn't seeing things.
"cloud? what are you doing here?" [name] asked, scanning cloud's figure once more to triple check he wasn't hallucinating.
cloud was a little confused at first. he didn't 100% recognise who was infront of him. [name] had grown up and transitioned into being who he truly meant to be.
"[name]?" cloud responded, taking a good look at the man infront of him. it was [name], cloud wasn't hallucinating either.
[name] nodded and he immediately hugged cloud, not believing the fact that his friend was there infront of him still. he didn't know how to grasp the situation. it had been years since they last met and there were no goodbyes shared or anything.
cloud was a little startled by the sudden hug, but he decided to embrace it anyway. it wasn't going to hurt. he was just hugging his old friend.. his old crush.
cloud felt like he was a kid again.
the poor guy was blushing again and he felt his stomach churn. he couldn't believe this was happening.
why now of all times? why were the memories flooding back to him? all the times that [name] and cloud would stay up late to talk or play games.. it all came rushing back.
"i didn't think i was going to ever see you again.." [name] confessed, whispering into cloud's ear softly. he was so happy to see cloud after all these years, cloud had to know.
"neither did i." cloud responded, chuckling lightly to himself as he ended up reciprocating the hug.
he wished he could stay in [name]'s arms forever - but he couldn't. he had a mission to do for avalanche, he had to save tifa. he couldn't stay in [name]'s arms for too long. he had things to do.
"[name] i'm sorry.. i have to go." cloud sighed, stepping back from the hug and looking at [name] with a frown. he didn't want this to end so soon.
"what?" [name] also took a step back, feeling all upset now. the smile he had on his face was wiped away in instant.
the man shook his head and he grabbed cloud's arm, keeping him in place. he wasn't letting him go this time. he was going to tell him everything. he didn't care if cloud was going to be late to whatever he's doing. he was selfish, but for good reasons.
"cloud, you can't just leave me after we've not seen eachother for years!" [name] started, still keeping a firm grip on cloud's arm. he sure as hell wasn't letting the blonde go yet.
"i haven't stopped thinking of you all this time.. and now you're back but you want to leave me again." [name] sighed, letting go of cloud's arm. it seems as if he has given up so quickly.
[name] looked away, crossing his arms over his chest. there was still a frown on his face and it was clear to cloud that he was hurting.
cloud wished he could comfort [name], hug him, kiss him or something else but he couldn't. time was running out, but it felt so slow when he was around [name].
"i should've told you then that i liked you. maybe if i wasn't a coward, you wouldn't of left and we would've been able to be something then.. but it's too late." [name] sighed again. he didn't even know if cloud was listening. "something else is clearly more important, so you should probably just go and do that thing then."
cloud couldn't believe what he had just heard. [name] liked him too? well, that changes everything. maybe cloud can spare a few minutes..
"seriously?" cloud spoke up, walking closer to [name] and holding one of his hands. he couldn't believe that [name] felt the same way he did.
"that.. feeling is mutual. i liked you back then too, but i was also too scared to say anything." cloud frowned slightly and it seemed that he had forgotten about everything else going on in his life.
[name] looked back at cloud, his frown slowly fading away. he was glad that cloud shared the sentiment, even if his confession was more of a 'heat of the moment' thing.
the man took in a deep breath before he spoke again, looking at his love with a smile on his face now.
"i'm glad to know that, cloud. i really am.." [name] says as he brushes a few strands of hair out of cloud's face. "i seriously didn't think you were interested in me at all. i thought you would've fallen in love with someone at the soldier program or something." [name] laughed.
cloud smiled in return. it was a small smile, but it still managed to melt [name]'s heart after years of not seeing it.
"i'd really like to catch up someday." [name] hummed and cloud let go of him, nodding at the other's words.
"of course." cloud responded, definitely wanting to catch up with [name]. they had a lot to catch up on. dates, kisses, hugs.. and even more.
[name] cleared his throat and he looked away, remembering that cloud had something important to do.
"you should.. go now. don't you have something important to do?" [name] mumbled, a heat rising to his face as he felt suddenly embarrassed for no reason.
cloud nodded and he gave [name] a quick kiss on the cheek, letting the other know that the feelings are still there. he then walked away from [name], going to do what he had to do.
"i'm glad our feelings are mutual!" [name] called out as cloud walked away.
cloud had a huge blush on his face as he walked, feeling flustered that a bunch of people now knew about his situation with [name].
at least the feeling was mutual...
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☆ author's note: hope you enjoy! for those who have been waiting for p2 of the fyodor x male reader fic, it'll be out soon i promise!! i feel so bad for making you all wait 😭 i might also start writing for re2 and re4, so you can request for characters from those games!
☆ masterlist ▪︎ request
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slutforsilverfoxes · 8 months
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Eight Seconds
[Not quite an author’s note, but more so a confession: I went line dancing the other night… I wish it went like this 😮‍💨 This do be self-indulgent PWP below the cut :) ]
__________
“I feel like an absolute schmuck. I look like an absolute schmuck. Cowboy hats aren’t meant to be worn this far west, it’s just not a good look,” Danny laments aloud, then catches his girlfriend’s eyes narrowed at his comment and quickly amends, “Except you, my dear, look absolutely adorable in yours.”
“That’s because you’ve got Jersey written all over your ugly mug,” his best friend ever so kindly informs him before taking a pull from his second beer of the night. “Gimme that.”
Steve takes the felt hat off of the blonde’s head and dons it himself instead, adjusting the brim low enough to hide the way his gaze is fixed on one young woman twirling around the dancefloor.
You throw your head back with a laugh as your current partner in the circle dance spins you to the next, and you take your new partner’s hand without missing a beat. Steve is absolutely mesmerized by the way you move so effortlessly, gliding between the complicated steps without a care in the world, your ponytail swinging in the same rhythm as your tempting hips.
“Hey,” Melissa yells to be heard over the pounding bass of the country song, nudging Steve hard enough to break him out of his trance. He turns to her and she lifts the brim of the hat before challenging, “Why don’t you get in there instead of ogling her all night, Commander?”
He’s grateful the flashing lights turn red at that moment to accompany the song change and graciously hide the heat creeping across his cheeks. “Am I being that obvious?”
“I’m surprised someone hasn’t put out a restraining order yet,” Danny’s quick to jibe. “Although I guess you’re meeting the requisite fifty feet.”
“You’re a riot,” the brunette grumbles under his breath before downing the rest of his beer. He twists around to place the empty bottle on the table, then turns back to find his view of the dancefloor blocked by a pair of jean shorts and a crop top sporting the skeletal head of a bull, if he’s not mistaken.
“Forgive me if I’m wrong,” your sweet voice settles over him like the Hawaii sunshine after a cool morning swim, “but y’all came out on a line dancing night and have yet to get to dancing.” A finger tips the brim of his hat even further up, and Steve comes face to face with the vision he’s been silently pining after all evening. He opens his mouth to answer, but finds himself speechless for quite possibly the first time in his adult life.
Thankfully, you fill the silence by chatting with Melissa, letting Steve bask in the touch of warm southern drawl woven around your words, and a different kind of heat floods his face this time thinking about what that sweet accent would sound like calling out his name tonight. He zones out while you prattle on, indulging in his decidedly not-safe-for-work fantasy and appreciating the way the cuff of your shorts sits snugly on your thick thighs just below the curve of your ass. Of all the things he’s been jealous of touching you tonight, denim takes the crown for being the most absurd.
“Commander Cupid,” Danny barks, roughly swatting at Steve’s shoulder to get his attention. “She’s talking to you, you putz.”
He clears his throat before turning his focus to you with an apologetic smile. “Got lost in my thoughts there,” he says by way of an explanation, and the twinkle of mirth in your eyes tells him you have a pretty good idea of just what those thoughts entailed.
“I asked if you wanted to come dance or just sit here watching me all night,” you repeat, one eyebrow cocked playfully.
“Oh, I, uh-” He knows he’s caught, and he lets out a soft laugh while shaking his head. “Totally busted, huh?”
“Tell you what,” you declare confidently, letting your hair fall loose from its elastic confine before palming the felt hat and settling it snugly on your head with a smirk. “I’ll make the decision for you.”
You start your journey back to the dance floor, clapping along to the kick drum announcing the beginning of that one Luke Bryan song that everybody always seems to know. You throw a wink over your shoulder and Steve stands to join you, pausing mid-step when Melissa hollers his name. He turns back to find an elated grin on her face, and she calls out, “Do you know the rule?”
Steve raises one eyebrow and shakes his head, curious.
“If you wear the hat…”
__________
“...you ride the cowboy,” you exclaim breathlessly in the back of Steve’s Silverado, your thighs burning from exertion. “Never heard that one before?”
“Nu uh,” the brunette answers rather unintelligently, the second syllable morphing into a groan when you roll your hips against his, somehow slotting his length even deeper in your heat. His hands find your love handles of their own volition, kneading the soft, warm skin there while you mouth hungrily at the sharp planes of his stubbled jaw.
He plants his feet on the floor of his truck before using his bruising grip as leverage to buck up into you, your hips kissing with every thrust as his lips find yours once more. You moan into his awaiting mouth, every coherent thought in your head disappearing, replaced by a mantra of your devilish lover’s name.
“That’s it, baby,” Steve rumbles out his praise. “Take everything I give you like a good girl.”
“Fuck yes,” you cry out, your head falling back and giving him the opportunity to run his nose down your exposed throat, a light scraping of teeth following in its wake. “Bite me,” you plead, and he’s quick to obey, sinking his teeth into the dip where your neck and shoulder meet.
Your walls tighten around his cock at the pleasurable tinge of pain, forcing Steve to let out an involuntary whimper against your skin. You pull back with a gasp, cupping his cheeks between your two smaller hands and feeling his face grow hot beneath your fingertips. “Oh my god,” you manage to get out between incessant pants every time your hips meet. “Do that again.”
“You like th-” The incredulous question dies on his lips, cut off by another soft whimper when you intentionally flex your muscles around him.
“That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard come out of a man’s mouth,” you declare, excited by the new discovery. “Don’t you hold back on me now.”
He doesn’t.
Spurred on by your praise and just how fucking hot it is for someone else to order him around for once, Steve allows himself to be vocal, all manner of delicious sounds escaping his kiss-bitten lips while you ride him for everything he’s worth.
“That’s it, baby,” you echo his words from earlier with a positively dangerous grin. “Take everything I give you like a good boy.”
“Fuck,” he breathes out, his cock twitching in response to your overt display of dominance. This is new for him, too, and he decides at that moment that he’s going to have to explore this side of himself more often.
“What is it, Steve?” you ask, your taunt coated by your honey-sweetened accent. “You need to cum? Need to fill this little pussy up?” An unintelligible noise works its way up from low in his throat, and he stares up at you, dumbstruck. “Is that a ‘yes’?”
Steve nods desperately, not trusting his voice to form a response in a coherent manner.
“Oh, sweet boy,” you coo, carding your fingers through his hair, slowing down the torturous twisting of your hips, your other hand teasing your clit. He holds your thighs in a vice grip, his own quaking beneath your body in an attempt to stave off his impending orgasm. Then you tuck one finger under his chin and lift his gaze to yours, and the single syllable you utter shatters the last of his resolve. “Beg.”
Hot ropes of cum paint your walls as Steve lets out a debauched groan, his head falling back against the seat of the truck while you apply steady pressure to your clit, letting yourself crest over the edge moments after him.
You give Steve some time to recover, pressing gentle kisses to his sweaty skin and running your nails along his scalp until the heaving of his chest gives way to steadier breathing. “You okay, baby?”
“That-” He stops, shaking his head and opting to capture your lips in a tender kiss instead of voicing his feelings.
“I figured after the week you had, fighting with the FBI over jurisdiction on your case, you might like to give up control,” you offer by way of explanation, sinking further into his lap to rest your head in the crook of his neck.
“Yeah, you could say that,” your boyfriend laughs, in awe of your uncanny ability to read him so easily. His fingers trail up and down your spine and you settle into his warmth with a content sigh before cheekily adding, “Didn’t think you’d like it that much, though.”
A laugh rumbles out of him again and he admits, “I knew you were a switch, but I didn’t think I was, too.”
“Surprise,” you respond, and he feels your lips turn upward in a smile against his skin. “And here you and Danny were being resistant to line dancing. I told y’all it’s fun, didn’t I?”
He hums in agreement, then adds with a self-satisfied lilt to his voice, “Kind of you to save a horse tonight, sweetheart.”
You snort in response, clambering out of his lap to fix your clothes for the ride home. Finding the discarded cowboy hat in the truck’s passenger seat, you return it to its rightful spot on your boyfriend’s head. “I’ll turn you into a country boy, yet, Steve.”
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[A/N (for realsies): Don’t ask where this came from, tbh I blame WhimperTok for r u i n i n g me. And I just know this big, tough man is secretly a lil slut who wants to be Commander outside the bedroom but Commanded™️ in the bedroom, u feel me? I may have to explore this more 👀]
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