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daegall · 7 months

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☆ drunk confessions.

➷ in which a drunk person's words is a sober person's thoughts.

pairing: (opla!)zoro x (implied fem!) reader

genre: fluff, slight angst, slight crack, mutual pining, friends to lovers!AU (ish..?)

warnings: lots and lots of alcohol, none after that but if you find one i can add lmk!! (+ lots and love of love for smiley zoro!!!!)

word count: 3.4k words (SHEESH)

a/n: requested by @acupnoodle !! tysm bae for the request, i hope you like it!!!! my inbox is now open for requests for opla (mostly zoro tbh LOL) if anyone would like to request ^^ (make sure its sfw as i am a minor!!!)

This is sick. This is just so sick.

Okay, maybe Zoro could be exaggerating. But what else is supposed to think, when you, the you who he has feelings for, is in the kitchen with Sanji, the annoying cook who he bickers with at least 5 times a day?

And especially since the day Sanji got him to blurt out about his feelings for you while he was drunk?

Zoro never thought he'd say it, but maybe he should lay low with the booze.

The swordsman can only grumble and huff as Luffy goes on and on about something—he hears something about Shanks. But all Zoro can do, is replay the memory of you sitting on the counter, right next to Sanji, who was peeling a few apples, and with a small frown on your face at that.

First, he thought maybe the cook had hurt you in any way. Then he realized it couldn't be, you'd be marching away from him. Then he assumed it could be you, with some personal trouble. But then you would always, without a fail, go to Zoro for help in that case.

Then, Zoro came to his final conclusion.

He had hurt you in some way.

But how could he? He'd never even consider the thought—he'd kill anyone who'd hurt you, because he cares—

No.

There's no way.

Sanji didn't tell you about his feelings... right?

Indeed he didn't. But Zoro doesn't know that.

What he also doesn't know, is the fact that you went to Sanji to talk about your best friend himself.

"He's been avoiding me," You mumble out weakly, picking at a few crumbs left on the counter. Gross, but hey, it's a pirate ship. There could be much worse things than a few specks of food. "I don't remember if I did anything wrong,"

Sanji knows you didn't. In fact, it was all his fault that Zoro was avoiding you. At the moment, having the usually stoic, cold swordsman admit his feelings for you with a dopey smile, the most loving tone as he describes every little thing about you, it seemed like the best thing on Earth. The man who everyone thought would never break, broke, all because of you.

But now, Sanji thinks it's stupid. He thinks it's stupid that Zoro's avoiding you because one person knew about his feelings. How cowardly could he be? But then again, he has absolutely no experience in relationships.

Sanji offers you an apple slice, his voice comforting and soft. "I don't think it's you," He smiles when you take the apple, taking a bite. "you could never wrong him."

"Then what is it?" Your voice is laced with such helplessness, a tone of worry and guilt buried underneath. It breaks Sanji's heart to see you like this. You play with the bracelet on your wrist, something Zoro had bought you when you were at a small town. You hadn't taken it off since, and it's been 3 months.

3 months marks your feelings for him as well.

"Why don't you ask him?"

At this question, your head whips to Sanji's direction, shaking instantly. "No! Hell no, it'd make him hate me even more!"

"Y/N..." Sanji's hands are suddenly on your shoulders, his eyes glistening with genuine care. It shocks you how serious he is about the whole situation. "he doesn't hate you. You might be the only one he genuinely feels safe with, you hear me?"

It's silent for a moment, as you bask in his words, the words in which hit you unexpectedly deeply. Yes, there have been times you've patched him up after a particularly harsh fight, yes, you both have shed tears together, and yes, he lets you touch his swords and lets you use—holy shit, Roronoa Zoro does care about you!

You decide to ask him, just as Sanji had suggested you do.

Zoro, on the other hand, has a different plan.

Despite the wallowing pit in his stomach, occupied by the green monster labeled as jealousy, Zoro knows you wouldn't go for Sanji. He's like an older brother to you.

But alas, he cannot control his emotions. And so, he's come up with possibly the worst plan ever.

Roronoa Zoro is going to flirt with you. The same way Sanji flirts with Nami.

It's stupid, he knows it's stupid, but Zoro is desperate. He's never felt this way towards anyone, ever, and his pride is way too big for him to ask advice from anyone on the crew.

"Zoro!"

Said man's heartrate doubles the moment he realizes it's your voice, your sweet, sweet voice calling out to him. Oh, how special he feels now, to have you by his side, to have you care for him and make him smile, how has he not realized how blessed he was just in your presence?

Okay, maybe Zoro was exaggerating.

He glances over his shoulder, attempting to act cool with a neutral face, as he murmurs. "What is it?"

As cold as ever, his gaze pierces yours. But... there's something different in it. It's colder.

Of course, this wasn't Zoro's intentions, clearly just trying to act cool and not confess his feelings for you right then and there, but the ice in his tone, his gaze, his aura, has your heart sinking.

Maybe he really did hate you now.

"Do you mind if we could talk?"

God, just the thought of having a chat with you has Zoro's heart soaring, his whole mind and being flooding with tenderness knowing that you'd always talk to him.

"What's up?" He sighs, fully turning around to you. His body language is the usual, calm and collected, the usual hand on his swords. Zoro is thankful you can't get a look inside, you'd be seeing a whole zoo and his running thoughts about how pretty you look today.

You step closer to Zoro.

"Did... did I do something wrong?"

This time, Zoro's heart twists in confusion.

Wrong? You? How could you ever think that?

"Because if I have, don't hesitate to tell me—"

"—your face."

What?

Holy shit, Zoro thinks you're ugly?

"...Is this your way of telling someone they're ugly?"

To be frank, you're kind of glad it's not about anything that you did, that would break you.

However, him directly telling you you're ugly? You never really cared if anyone called you ugly, but Roronoa Zoro? The only man you'd every trust? Your own crush?

Your heart twists in pain.

"No! No, that's not what I meant,"

Zoro's heartstrings tug at the sight of your pained face, the frown curling on your lips, he should never open his mouth ever again.

"I-I just meant that... you..."

He feels his cheeks warm up. Is he blushing?!

"you look really pretty today,"

Those were the very last words you would have expected coming out of Zoro's mouth.

A silence envelops the air. It's... awkward, to say the least, but a little endearing, with the both of you shyly looking away.

Zoro thinks you're pretty.

Absolutely stunning with your pursed lips trying to contain a smile, the glint in your eyes known as relief, and a little hint of mischief.

"Thanks," You mumble quietly, shrugging, though you're a far cry from casual.

Zoro mirrors you, leaning his hip onto the ship railing. "Don't mention it."

And you don't. Not for the next few hours, at least.

To say Zoro's plan of flirting with you failed, was quite the understatement. Sure, he finally got to say what he's been holding in for months, but he was expecting Sanji level flattery, the teasing smiles and confidence, not whatever the two of you went through.

Zoro feels like an idiot.

You, on the other hand, quite enjoyed it. it was genuine, and unlike Sanji's flirting, it's left you thinking about the moment for hours after it's passed. It seemed so genuine, carefully thought out (though it wasn't) and soft, something you didn't know Zoro could be.

You like Zoro's flirting much more than Sanji's. Though, that may be due to the fact that you have feelings for the swordsman.

The sun sets, leaving the pirate ship quiet (for once) and calm, just like the ocean, with it's soft waves and tranquil energy.

What isn't tranquil tonight, is you.

Instead of going to sleep, you've decided to have a drink. Yes, you may have stolen from Zoro's hidden stash in which he only showed you. Yes, you may have had more than one drink.

3, to be precise.

Why? Well, how are you supposed to go on the night? Simply thinking over and over about Zoro's words? His words that have left a permanent place in your heart? Your mind and soul?

How are you supposed to spend the night thinking about a man who you were sure hated you, who called you pretty and set your heart on fire, without a drink?

Besides, what's the worst that could happen?

Maybe the fact that Zoro wants a drink tonight as well.

Okay, yeah, he did say he was gonna lay low with the booze. But bad habits die hard. He's bound to drink a little here and there.

The moment he gets to the kitchen, Zoro is shocked at the sight of you, sitting on the counter, with a bottle of his beer in your hands. Your eyes are droopy, almost sleepy, a stupid lopsided smile spreading on your lips. The bottle has Zoro's name on it, written on the tape and pasted lousily over the brand name, and seeing you eye the writing and mumble his name has Zoro's heart pounding, filling with such unexpected fondness for you, ready to burst as such a volcano would.

"That's my booze,"

Your eyes blink tiredly, with no energy, as they trail to Zoro, and when you spot him, he can't believe the way your frown completely transforms into a bright grin.

"Zoro! Hey! Yeaahh, it has your name on it,"

He's shocked when you extend your hand with the bottle in it, shaking it side to side lightly. "Wanna sip?"

Your 'p' pops, and Zoro can't help but find it utterly endearing.

"Don't mind if I do," He murmurs with a small smile, wrapping his fingers around the bottle. He doesn't miss the way you maneuver your fingers to brush with his, catching your smile once they've made contact. His fingers are warm, and slightly rough.

Life of a swordsman, you suppose.

When he takes a sip of the bottle, you scooch over on the counter, tapping the space beside you. "Come join me!" Under the low light of the moon shining through the window, you look unexpectedly elegant, despite your tipsiness, the rays settling on your cheek just right.

Zoro complies, but simply leans against the counter. He takes another swig. "Any reason as to why you're here alone? Drinking my booze?"

"Been thinking," you say simply, reaching over to fiddle with a bandage on Zoro's forearm. The action is an abrupt source of serotonin to him.

His voice is laced with care and curiosity, as he asks you, "Thinking about what?"

"You,"

Oh how you never fail to get him shy. His eyes grow wide, but with the little alcohol in his system, he supposes it could work as liquid luck for tonight.

"Yeah? What about me?"

You chuckle, drunkenly, your eyes flitting from the bandage on his arm to his own eyes, no hints of hesitation or doubt. "How pretty you are,"

"You think I'm pretty?"

"Mhm," You nod. A hand is placed on your cheek, as you lean on it and continue to gaze at Zoro, almost dreamily. "your smile is pretty,"

At the mention of his smile, it appears almost instantly, and causes you to swoon even more, if it were possible. "You like my smile?"

You sigh, your own grin joining his. "Always,"

You decide to elaborate even more, deciding your sober self will have to deal with the embarrassment of rejection later.

"And you've got these freckles on your cheeks and nose, from all the hours in the sun, I always tell you to use sunscreen,"

It's true, you do.

Zoro only chuckles lightly, growing fonder and fonder of you every time you speak.

"and I love how ambitious you are to become the worlds greatest swordsman. You're always the best. To me, at least."

God, Zoro might kiss you right then and there.

"And you're so caring for everyone on the crew, don't deny it, I always see the way you do! Helping Usopp clean the ship and tie knots, listening to Luffy's nonsense rambling and storing all the maps for Nami, even for Sanji! Always buying the right ingredients for him," You breathe out a soft laugh. "and you care about me too. I think. I mean, you're always there when I have a problem personally or not, sometimes I think maybe... we could have some connection, you know? And other days... it seems like you despise me."

What?

How could you ever think he could despise you? Sure, there are some instances where you disagree with each other, but he does not hate you. He could never even think about it.

Before Zoro could comment on it, you carry on, voice growing louder and louder.

"Did I mention I love your smile?"

Zoro can't help but chuckle, reaching over to brush a few strands of your hair from your eyes. Wow, that took him more confidence than he thought.

"Yes, you have, Y/N."

"Oh... then let me mention it more," A sheepish smile grazes your lips, as you lean in close to observe his smile once you realize he is.

"And your lips. They're pretty too,"

Your eyes squint as you lean in closer, so close that your noses brush against one another. Zoro doesn't find the will in him to lean in, neither to pull back either. He simply sits there, his heart growing softer and softer when you purse your lips and tilt your head, shaking it.

"they look lonely," you state. "wanna meet mine?"

Oh, you're cute.

With the confident, almost cocky smile on your lips, eyes growing wider and wider as Zoro starts laughing.

Through your drunken eyes, seeing him smile is one thing. One thing enough to set you rambling and rambling about how much you enjoy it. Hearing him laugh? You could talk about it for hours, but you'd have too many things to say at once, you'd be left speechless. And that's exactly what happens at the moment, as you're left gaping at the sweet melody of his laughs, simply keeping your loving gaze on him.

"I'm not kidding, Zoro." You mumble. "I love you, I do."

For months, Roronoa Zoro has been so unsure about himself around you. Is he enough? Will he ever be enough? But now, hearing you state that you love him, he's sure. He loves you too, more than he could ever comprehend, and he won't doubt himself anymore.

He leans in, bumping your foreheads together clumsily. Though it hurts for a moment, it's fond, caring, as he smiles softly at your drunk state.

You could just be drunk right now.

None of this could be true.

Zoro doesn't care. If it's true or not, there has to be a reason you're telling him this. He'll ask you when you're sober.

Speaking of, "I won't kiss you," He says.

Your heart plummets to the ground, you can feel it deep in your chest, crashing through the base of the ship and sinking to the bottom of the sea, buried under such hurt hearing his words.

It lifts a moment later, however, as he places his lips on your cheek lovingly, a kiss to your forehead following.

"not when you're drunk. Don't wanna take advantage of you,"

"But you're not—"

"—I know, but it won't feel the same,"

Really, all Zoro wants to do, is place just one kiss on your lips, your lips that pout as you look up at him, hold you so closely to him, finally accept his feelings and make a move.

But, he'll wait for the morning. He'd wait forever just for you.

And as he leaves, warning you to stop drinking his booze, you're left... with a half heart. Half full with love, knowing Zoro could very much feel the same way for you, half empty, sad to have made so much effort (getting drunk should not be the way to confess to your crush) just for him to leave you hanging.

That's on you, you suppose.

He makes a very good point about the whole 'taking advantage' thing.

You guess you'll be too much of a coward when you wake up sober, too scared to fully confess, too scared to even look at him.

Zoro could not disagree more. He swears, the moment the sun has risen and you're awake, he's going to make you his. All his to hold, all his to take care of and protect, all his to love.

And as the day starts, both your minds are instantly flooded with thoughts of the other. The moment you see him, yawning as he listens to Luffy's rambling, your heart starts racing.

You don't remember that much from last night.

All you remember is the feeling of Zoro's warm lips on your skin, his caring gaze, and the ridiculous amount of alcohol you had drank. Sure, it was a far cry from how much Zoro would usually drink, but it's still a big amount to you.

Zoro has last night's events imprinted in his mind, every lingering glance he sends your way, every shy smile the two of you share, the way you scurry away quickly with an embarrassed scrunch of your nose, it takes him back to the night.

And finally, some alone time.

You find Zoro in the kitchen, checking on his booze stash, the one you had invaded the night before.

"Sorry about that, by the way," You call out, announcing your presence.

Zoro's heart soars just at the sound of your voice, small, almost guilty, and when he turns around, seeing you sit on the counter, just as you had last night, he can't stop the smile from tugging his lips upward. "It's no problem," He shrugs. "you'd never bother me,"

Roronoa Zoro, the lone wolf, the harsh swordsman saying that to you says a lot.

He approaches your figure slowly, growing more and more confident once he's realized that's exactly what you want. It's exactly what he wants too.

Finally, he's stopped right in front of you, your knees brushing slightly against his shirt. You look down at your hands placed on your laps, too shy to say anything, nor even look up at him.

"Hey," A sudden touch at your chin shocks you, and you eventually melt against his hold as he tilts your head up to meet his eyes. Like a magnet, you grow closer collectively, up until Zoro has both his hands sitting by your hips, your noses once again brushing.

This scene seems familiar.

You conclude it's what had been done last night, when he had kissed along the skin of your cheeks.

"I'm not drunk anymore," You whisper out.

Zoro chuckles, causing your entire being to wave with warmth of safety and comfort. "Yeah, I can see that."

"So you gonna give me that kiss or—"

Zoro's lips feel much warmer than you expected. They feel complete, pressed against your softly, almost hesitantly. The moment your fingers graze against his jaw, he relaxes, leaning in deeper to not only kiss your lips, but your entire soul, with love and solace, finally coming to terms with his feelings.

God, does Roronoa Zoro love you so much. He loves the way your hands creep up to mess up his (already disheveled) hair, the sigh you let out against his lips, the way you chase his lips once he's pulled away.

"What exactly did I say last night?" You mumble against his lips once he's pulled away, grabbing at his hand to play lightly with his fingers.

"Well, you mentioned how much you loved my smile," Zoro chuckles. There he goes once again, with his pretty smile and laugh, leaving you speechless and starstruck. "like, a lot."

"Did I mention that I love you?"

Zoro feels a warmth bubble from his stomach, feeling it envelop his chest, his arms and fingers when you finally intertwine your hands in a lock, his cheeks as they redden, and his lips as he finally gives you one last flash of the smile you claim to adore so much.

It's love.

"Yeah," He leans in to press your foreheads together. "I think I love you more,"

#roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #zoro #one piece #one piece imagines #one piece x reader #roronoa zoro imagines #zoro imagines #one piece live action #opla #roronoa zoro live action #zoro live action

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itsoutrageouss · 2 years

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Angst eddie fic where the reader is new maybe they sit at the clubs table unintentionally, and eddie comes off as rude or pushy and unknowingly hurts the readers feelings getting them to avoid the whole table and the next day eddie apologizes after finding them in the woods crying-🍒

a/n: poor eddie would feel so bad after having hurt your feelings like that </3

words: 1k ish- idk bro

warnings: just angst, little unintentional mean!eddie, reader gets embarrassed/feels humiliated

damn prejudice - e. m.

damn prejudice series: part ii // part iii

—☕️

The cafeteria was huge- at least to you. Your old school didn’t even have one, just picnic tables outside, not to say groups and cliques weren’t something anyone bothered themselves with in such a small school.

Hawkins High was different. Albeit Hawkins not being a huge place it was definitely bigger than what you were used to, and you were overwhelmed to say the least.

That’s probably why you didn’t notice the matching shirts of everyone at the table you chose to join. You didn’t even give it second thought that maybe this was an exclusive group, that maybe social status was an actual thing here.

In general, you could be quite oblivious. There fell a tense silence over the table when you sat down, and all eyes of hellfire club turned to Eddie for a reaction. He didn’t say anything at first, just stared at you calmly like he was waiting for you to realize just where you had chosen to sit.

You on the other hand was just poking at your food, assessing the lunch menu if you will. It took you a minute or two to register the dead silence that befell only where you sat and not anywhere else.

That’s when you looked up, eyes scanning the people around you until they landed on the face right next to you at the end of the table; big, brown doe eyes that ogled you in a slightly cold manner. You felt your insides freeze along with his stare- how had you already managed to do something wrong?

“What do you think you’re doing?” His eyes narrowed as he slowly chewed his food in an over exaggerated manner. His tone wasn’t necessarily rude as much as it was filled with suspicion.

“Eating.. lunch?” You replied, more a question than an answer. Your breaths were shorter and faster than before, a sudden unwanted heat wrapping around your body in embarrassment. No one at the table dared say anything.

Usually Eddie was welcome to the newbies at Hawkins- he was known for collecting lost sheep. But someone as pretty as you couldn’t possibly be here by your own will; had the cheer squad sent you to mess with him? That had to be it

Well, he wasn’t gonna fucking fall for it.

“Yeahh, nice try,” he dragged out his words, twirling an apple in his hand. You got a feeling that he had a sense for the dramatics.

“I think you got better things to do than hang around here sweetheart. We bite,” he bit out into the air towards you, his teeth making a loud clank as they did, his hands gripping the table to lean over you. It made you jump backwards, nearly toppling over on your seat. Someone next to you chuckled; it was safe to say you felt humiliated.

Eddie laughed at you teasingly, which might have made your heart flutter under different circumstances, but now you only saw it as condescending- there was something cold in the expression he wore .

In eddies eyes he was being very just. You were new, had probably been hauled in by the cheer squad at first glance and now they had sent you on your first mission to be a true popular Hawkins high menace. Going after the freaks.

Your hands were shaking as you looked around. More unknown faces had turned to where you sat and either laughed meanly or glared at you. You didn’t feel welcome at all.

Quickly you scrambled off the bench and grabbed you lunch tray.

“That’s right, scurry off Princess,” Eddie said, feeling like he had won this little battle that was apparently all in his head. Your eyes were wide and glassy, and the milk on your tray fell to the ground with a thud due to you shaky hands.

Eddie raised his brows at that, suddenly unsure why you would be this nervous if his theory was right. Before he could ponder it, you were hurrying down the hall and out of the cafeteria- not to Jason’s table like he expected.

Shit, maybe you actually were just new and trying to make friends. Eddie would be the last person to reject anyone who felt like an outsider, especially someone as pretty as you.

He didn’t see you for the rest of the day though, still unsure wether or not his cruelty had simply been cruel or purposeful.

—☕️

Maybe you had just been incredibly naive but you did not expect to spend your second day at Hawkins high on the outskirt woods of the school— crying. You had avoided the hellfire club the remainder of yesterday and this morning, especially the boy who you found out to be named Eddie. The humiliation still crept up on you whenever someone glared at you in the halls, making your cheeks flush and palms sweaty.

You were never going to make any friends. The boy who you thought the coolest in the whole school had been mean to you and you had no idea how you were gonna last your whole senior year here. The slim, naked trees of the woods blurred together as hot tears fell down your cheeks, but you angrily wiped them away.

You were lost in thought when you heard rustling right ahead. You peered up nervously to see no one other than Eddie stepping into the little clearing at the picnic table.

After yesterday, when Jason had made fun of the fact that even Eddie rejected the new girl it became clear to him that he was all in the wrong. You were new and alone at had chosen his table to sit at- something that had never happened in hellfires history. The guilt had wrenched him from falling asleep last night and he had spent the whole morning trying to find you -at first he begged Dustin and Mike to apologise from him, since he was too nervous to do it himself- but he knew he had to be the one.

He felt the remorse once again twist in his heart when he saw your small figure curled together on the picnic bench, your tears staining the wood a darker shade. “Hey, uh,” he began, his hands out in front of him like he was trying to tame a wild animal. His tone was gentle and soft, very unlike yesterday.

“Your name’s y/n, right?” He asked with a small polite smile, to show you he wasn’t here to embarrass you again. You didn’t fall for it though, and clutched your knees tighter to your chest, merely giving him a small nod in return with a blank expression.

He sat down in front of you carefully, like any fast movement would make you run and hide.

“So now you wanna sit at the same table as me? Don’t you have better things to do?” It slipped out of you before you could stop it. It wasn’t like you to talk back but you were thoroughly blaming Eddie for your first day failure at this point.

“Yeah no, I uh- I deserve that” he snickered remorsefully. You only glared at him, waiting for whatever his purpose with you now was.

“Listen I’m really sorry about yesterday. I thought-“ he began, realising now how stupid he had been- especially when he saw the memory resurface in your eyes, now adorning fresh tears.

“I thought the basket team had sent you over to mock us or some shit. I didn’t realize you were being genuine, hanging out with the damned and all,” he huffed, trying to seem serious but light at the same time.

Your brows furrowed in question. “Why would you think that?” Your lower lip quivered and Eddie felt an urge to press his thumb against it to soothe you- he obviously didn’t, the boy barely knew you. He cursed himself for thinking like that when he was trying to apologise

“I don’t know. Cause you’re pretty-“ he cursed himself once again- way to go buddy. “anyways I’m the last person who should be carrying prejudice about anyone. I’m sorry for being mean to you, sweetheart.”

You looked at him again, those brown eyes big and pleading. He looked entirely different than yesterday, cheeks slightly flushed from blushing, eyes curious and lips quirked in a soft, nervous smile. He was quite endearing, you thought. And he called you pretty.

You wiped your eyes in a failed attempt to hide your crying. Eddie wasn’t even gonna touch on the fact that he made you cry your first week here- he felt awful.

“You’re welcome at hellfire anytime, I promise you.” His hand slightly reached over the table as a sort of olive branch, but he retracted it again in fear of looking stupid.

“Hellfire?” You asked, taking note of his hand now nervously tapping the surface of the wooden table.

“Yeah, y’know.. you didn’t see the t-shirts?” He asked with a teasing smile; but a kind one this time. You shook your head with a dry chuckle, rolling your eyes at you own obliviousness once again.

“We’re a DnD club. Some of us play music, too,” you listened intently to everything he said, your eyes as big and curious as his whenever he talked. How the hell had he managed to be mean to someone like you?

“I’ve played a little DnD at my old school. Have a guitar too,” you added softly, glad to have something in common with him. He lit up at your words.

“You’ll have to show me, one day. You could join the campaign I’m starting too, next week if you’d like?” He asked, still somehow nervous that you’d now reject him.

Instead you nodded enthusiastically, reaching for his hand and placing yours on top of it.

Maybe senior year wasn’t gonna be so bad, after all.

— next part ☕️

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scarletevening · 4 months

Text

polished [ simon 'ghost' riley ]

read too many mafia simon fics [ more specifically @cordeliawhohung. omg j the thought of her fics gets me all bothered.] ANWAYS. bodyguard/underdog fic of him... ugh, got me drooling. i can't help but ramble about him like this.

cw: suggestive, public teasing/mentions of public sex, some fluff, mafia au, established relationship, mostly just headcannons/rambling, no real plot, obsessive-ish simon, fem! reader.

simon "takes care of what belongs to him" riley who doesn't let you even see the bill of the restaurant he takes you to. only taking you to restaurants that have his card at registration, that don't ever print and only e-mail receipts.

who acts like all hell will break loose if you even try to pull out your wallet, immediately wrapping his large hand around yours, smiling as his gruff voice mumbles to the waitress, or cashier, or bartender, or whoever else would be cashing you out. even when you pout and whine, he chuckled, his lips curving into a smile and he pulls his mask just over them, to shush you with a kiss.

simon riley who never lets you slip away from his touch, smiling as he lets you sit on his meaty thigh, your back pressed against his broad shoulders as you sit in the private room with some... friends. you knew otherwise, with the way the women changed every hour, but you didn't. you stayed, the hand splayed around your waist unmoving as his masked face trails its lips down your spine, kissing the nape of you neck through the fabric.

who makes sure to schedule every appointment for his girl. your nails, your brows, you spa, anything else you want, need, desire. he'll do it, he'll wash more money, wake a little earlier, blaming it on a morning run, bidding you goodbye with a kiss on your forehead, closing your bedroom door to load his gun. but it didn't matter, not when he got to see your cute little face warm up and smile, thanking him in that sweet coo as you tugged gently at his collar; a kiss as a thank you.

simon riley who makes sure you never, ever, ever are alone, unsafe, without him. he goes everywhere with you, the grocery store, he loiters at your little diner as your best tipping customer, sitting beside you as you get your nails done. and even when you think it's just you and your girlfriends, giggling and drinking tea from cute china cups, he's had some snake through the security cameras for him to watch. to keep you safe.

who never lets you take charge, who makes sure he can fulfill all of your desires. learns all your reactions, how the way his mask rustles against your cheek makes you blush as he whispers into your ears. how you always bat your eyelashes when you get needy. how you can barely last an hour with the way his rough fingers tap at your waist in the private club, watching the other couples flirt. how you let him tease you on his lap, as if no one else could see the way his fingers snuck under your skirt. how you always forget your own name when you feel the knot tightening in your belly, so impatient as he forced you to wait until you were in your own bed to satisfy you.

simon riley that learned how to cook your favorite breakfast so every morning after. bringing you tea, a plate of food, and a kiss to bed as you woke up, marked up and sore. you happily tucked you into his chest as he held a silver spoon to your lips.

who loves you dearly, the apple of his eyes, the sun to his moon, his woman.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

i didn't mean to make it this long... hehe. if you recognize the car in the banner... i fucking love you. [pls buy me one.] edit: i literally forgot to fix the tag before i posted imma cry.

directory

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rorywritesjunk · 5 months

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Let's be one another's present tense

Buggy 'rescues' you from an abusive situation, and after a less than stellar introduction, he has you audition for his crew to keep you safe. You want safety, security, and joining a circus seems like the best idea. Rating: R-ish for now. Warning: First chapter has bruises and talks about abuse (not from Buggy), though Buggy has his explosive moments. There's an asshole much older ex-husband in this story. Swearing. Nose bonks. A/N: This has been sitting in my head as I worked it out for an Anon's request. I have been really intrigued by this and wanted it to be just right. Also, it gave me the chance to ask my circus obsessed friend about different routines and we bounced some ideas off each other. This is also a touch different than other things I've written, which is why I've been taking so long to work on it and get it posted. Enjoy! Title comes from "Crater Lake" by Lady Lamb.

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 (NC-17) + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13

Chapter 1

“So we have a deal then?”

“Yes… yes, we have a deal.”

The clown pirate grinned at the old man sitting across from him. Buggy cheerfully cut a chunk out of the apple in his hand with his knife, tossing it into his mouth before he suddenly slammed the knife down onto the table, letting it stick into the wooden table top. The old man jumped while you flinched as you stood beside him. The bartering to keep the town safe from Buggy and his crew had finally finished and now it was just an uncomfortable time to be in the room.

Buggy looked at you and winked before he retrieved his knife, turning his attention back to the old mayor. “That your daughter there? She’s cute.”

“No, she’s my wife.” He replied; Buggy had just taken a bite of the apple only to spit it out across the desk at the man in mock surprise. The man did his best not to react while you covered your mouth with a look of disgust on your face.

“Wife?” Buggy chuckled. “You have one foot in the grave and you’re married to someone who looks young enough to be your daughter?” He shook his head. “And people think pirates can be disgusting. They don’t really care what their local politicians are up to, do they?” Buggy took another bite of the apple, giving you a once over before he grinned. “Throw her into the deal.”

“I-I suppose we-” The mayor started but you cut him off.

“No, I’m not going with some disgusting pirate like you!” You snapped. “Who knows what you would do to me!”

Buggy locked eyes with you in that moment, the playful attitude gone and replaced with something you couldn’t quite figure out. He stood up and approached you, knife in one hand and apple in the other. The mayor just sat and watched, trembling in his seat, refusing to do anything to protect you. The captain smiled at you as the knife cut into the apple; you could hear the fruit cracking from the force of the knife, saw the juice spill over his fingers, soaking into his gloved hands.

“What did you say about my nose?” He asked, voice eerily calm as he tossed the bit of apple into his mouth.

“I didn’t say anything about your nose.” You spat as you looked him up and down, crossing your arms. “Though I doubt I could say anything about it that you haven’t heard before.”

He smiled at that before raising the knife up and throwing it into the wall behind you. You turned to see where it landed but his hand was on your throat, backing you up to the wall and next to the knife. Buggy held you there for a moment, the smile disappearing as his hand tightened its hold on you.

“You’ve got quite the mouth on you.” He murmured as you grabbed his hand with yours, trying to pull him off you. Buggy suddenly smirked and let go of you. “You’ll fit in with my crew. Though, I should warn you, every time you mouth off I cut off a bit of your tongue.”

You rubbed your throat, breathing heavily as you turned to your husband. “You’re… you’re just going to let him take me?!”

“He’ll destroy the town if I don’t!” The mayor wailed. “I can’t allow that to happen! Sa-Sacrifices have to happen!”

“I’m not a sacrifice!” You exclaimed as your hand went to where Buggy was just touching you. You felt… weird from that, never having been touched in that manner before. You were used to aggression, pain, fear. His touch was… strong but there didn’t seem to be malice, but more of a performance. He caused you discomfort but there wouldn’t be a bruise left on you from him that you could tell. You shook your head and looked back at Buggy. “What do you plan to do to me?”

“Target practice, maybe.” Buggy shrugged. “I got this new thing I wanna try where I cut off a volunteer’s clothes with my knife throwing, y’know. Getcha right where the seams of your clothes are and see if I can cut through them.” He looked you up and down as he reached out to touch the fabric of your blouse. “Though, this is nice fabric, I don’t know if I want to risk damaging it.”

You slapped his hand away before turning to slap your ‘husband’. He recoiled at your touch but you didn’t care. He had no issue giving you up to some dirty pirate like this. Sacrifice? You were not some animal to be led for slaughter, you were a person, and you would take out Buggy and his crew even if it killed you. As you turned to face Buggy, he was already at the door of the office, but a hand was in front of you, holding a small red ball. With a squeeze, red smoke burst out of it and everything went dark.

The rope around your wrists was tight, scraping and irritating your skin. You were groggy as you came to but you were on a soft surface, fabric rubbing against your cheek almost comfortingly as you tried to get your head to stop spinning and for the nausea to cease. It took a few minutes for you to recall what your last moments were. Slapping a hand, your ex-husband, and some kind of smoke.

Oh shit you were captured by a pirate. A clown pirate with a bright red nose who was sensitive about it.

You moved your tongue around in your mouth, relieved that it was still whole. He didn’t cut it out yet, but was that empty threat or was he really going to do it? And what was he actually planning on doing with you? Stories often went around about pirates and what they were known to do to their prisoners, and you had heard many of them to give you some idea what to expect. Would he kill you after he was done with you, or would he kill you first and toss you into the sea to be food for the fishes and sea kings?

Heavy footsteps were approaching your room. You shut your eyes, hoping whoever it was would see you were asleep and would leave you alone.

Except that was expecting too much.

“Get up.” Buggy said as he walked over to the bed and grabbed the rope, pulling you into a sitting position. You glared up at him and he smirked, patting you on the cheek just enough to emit sound without the sting of a slap. “Rise and shine, cupcake. We need a new freak out there and you gotta earn your keep.”

“I will do no such thing.” You snapped as he pulled you up to your feet. Your body was still feeling the effects of the smoke and when you stood up you were off balanced, falling into him. To your surprise, he caught you, steadying you on your feet before he led you out of the room and down a walkway to another. You didn’t want to follow him, choosing to let your legs give out and falling to the floor. He stopped and turned to look at you.

“Really?” He shook his head and picked you up, slinging you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “You haven’t even had one performance and you’re already acting like a diva.”

“Excuse me?!” You wriggled around, trying to get him to drop you, but he laid his hand over your back, steadying you as he walked. “Put me down now!”

“You seem to think you can tell me what to do, cupcake.” He chuckled as his hand slid from your back down to the top of your ass. Without warning he gave you a pinch, causing you to yelp in surprise. “You may have been that loser mayor’s wife, but here? You’re just another freak like us.”

He set you down in a chair and stood behind you. There was a mirror in front of you with lights all around it. You didn’t want to be looking in the mirror right then, seeing the bruises on your face, the black eye that was healing, or the cut on your cheek that was scabbing over. You shut your eyes and took a deep breath. What was this clown playing at?

“Now, we both know I didn’t do that to your face.” He murmured as he put both of his hands on your shoulders and leaned down towards you. “That old man did, didn’t he?” He touched the cut and you jerked away. “Weird, he seemed scared of you back there.”

“He was scared of you.” You hissed as you opened your eyes to glare at him. Buggy put his hand on your other cheek and you flinched, jerking backwards and nearly headbutting him. “Don’t touch me!”

“Cupcake, I just gotta do your makeup.” He told you calmly as he moved just in time from getting a bloody nose. “Cover up your battle scars, y’know. Can’t have the audience thinkin’ we rough up our performers here.”

You jerked again in your seat, trying to get out of reach of him. You didn’t want him touching you, speaking to you, or being near you. You didn’t want to go home but you didn’t want to be here. Why did this happen to you?

“Red lipstick would look wonderful on you, y’know.” He murmured as he leaned forward, looking at your face. “Or maybe I just throw you out there and let me and Cabaji practice our knife act on you.” He grinned. “I don’t want to waste makeup on you if you’re going to start crying out there.”

“Fuck you!” You spat as you threw your head forward, colliding with his nose. He reared back, swearing loudly as he clutched it while you slumped in the chair, dazed. You didn’t think it would do anything but he fell to the ground on his ass, stomping his feet in pain from the hit.

“Agh, you bitch! Why there?!” He shrieked, covering it with his hand as he tried to breathe through the pain. “Fuck, is your head a cannon ball? It felt like being hit by one!”

You lifted your bound hands to your head, rubbing your forehead. You could say the same thing about him, but then again you didn’t make it a habit of headbutting strange men. Your head felt a little rattled from the attack and the sharp pain in your forehead was throbbing.

“I didn’t think I’d hit your nose!” You shot back as you shut your eyes in pain. “Fucking asshole!”

He gave your chair a kick before getting to his feet, cursing you, headbutts, and noses before storming out of the room and leaving you by yourself. Your head was still hurting and you wondered if you were going to have a new bruise to add to the collection, but at least this one was from self defense, and you'd do it again to him if you had the chance.

“Fucking clown.” You sighed as you leaned back in your seat. You needed to figure out what was going to happen next.

#buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x you #opla buggy the clown #opla buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy x reader #opla buggy the clown x you #opla buggy x you #buggy the clown x oc #buggy x oc #opla buggy the clown x oc #opla buggy x oc

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janahanooo · 5 months

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Since I'm currently sick, I now have some time to post, so have this.

Ace: out of everyone, who do think would be a good spouse and why?

Yuu: hmm...I would go with Sebek.

Sebek: *already blushing* HA?! Why me?!

Ace: yeah, why him? Not that I'm upset or anything...

Yuu: hear me out on this one

Yuu: we all know how obs- khm how much he loves Malleus. So, if Sebek ever has someone he truly loves like Malleus, that would mean he would treat them with respect, almost like royalty. He would be the most loyal boyfriend or spouse or whatever you want it to be. Plus he would do anything for this person, no?

Sebek: *stunned*

Ace: ...you do have a point. But what about the others?

Yuu: hmm. You would be an okay-ish spouse. I mean, sure you can be serious, if the thing will benifit you. And uhh.. you are funny, so that's a good point?

Ace: that hurt, but touche

Yuu: Deuce is a tough nut to crack. He is a mama's boy, so I think he would be another safe option. But should not be angered.

Yuu: Jack on the other hand, he is a good boy. Could do no harm to the love of their life, but not the man in the relationship. Also, he wouldn't be very honest about his feelings to the other person.

Yuu: Epel is... that farm boy is tough and strong, but has a soft spot for apples and his grandma. So if you are neither, don't even try with him. And don't call him cute or you'll die.

Ace and Sebek: ....

Sebek: well, seems like you already decided, no? *grinning*

Ace: wha-?! No they did not! So don't try anything funny you crocodile!

Yuu: ??

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fabraies · 1 year

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TRIAL BASIS DATING ft ATSUMU MIYA

sfw + no warnings. if the man wants a relationship with you, he’s going to have to work for it. ﾟ｡ ꒱

FIRST TEST: HOLD-MY-PURSE-WHILE-I-TRY-THIS-ON

If New York City had one thing to offer, it was glamour, shopping trips, and luxury. However, this vision of the city seemed to be slightly different for boyfriends, who’d rather view a trip to Soho as an arm workout. Atsumu had to agree.

“Hey, babe?”

The blond perks up at the sound of your voice, looking up at you trying on another pair of nude stilettos, “Hm ?”

“Which ones ?” You say, holding up another pair that was lying nearby, in the mess that was made up of shoeboxes and translucent paper, and placing it next to the shoe that you were currently wearing.

Atsumu can’t help but blink. “Babe.. aren’t they..?” Your pupils narrow down to slits as your boyfriend almost slips up. Luckily for him, he catches the hint, and tries as best as he can to make up for his blunder.

“I mean- No, it’s just.. That’s not what I meant to say! They’re so obviously different, the left one definitely more yellow.. ish?”

You pick up the left one, inspecting it, and Atsumu swears he felt a drop of sweat make it’s way down his forehead.

“Yeah.. Yeah you’re right. Thanks, baby, love you!” As you place a quick kiss on his cheek, you happily saunter over to the store assistant to let her know you’ve made your choice, and, unbeknownst to you, Atsumu feels like screaming into a pillow. Your purse is safely in his hands, he managed to provide worthwhile fashion advice, and most of all, he was still alive.

While he was very self-centered, for once in his life, your boyfriend was sure that the outcome wasn’t any of his doing. In fact, he wholeheartedly believed there was some extraterrestrial being somewhere that had taken pity on him, and helped him out.

Right on cue, you come back, having paid your new shoes, “Come on, hurry up, there’s this other store I wanna check out next!”

Even though these sort of days were definitely rewarding; watching his girlfriend change into form-fitting outfits was always a good thing, Atsumu was already begging for the extraterrestrial’s return.

The colors and brand names you were throwing at him were making the poor man’s head spin; Apple green or Forest green? Ocre or light brown? Prada or Balenciaga? Moschino or Valentino? Atsumu didn’t even know what a Moschino was, and when he’d asked you if it was a coffee machine brand, you had almost thrown earlier’s nude stilettos right at his face.

“Come on, just five more minutes, I promise!” You answer your boyfriend from the changing room, as he had let you know about his need to go back to the hotel as soon as possible.

The blonde, who was sat in a puff chair in front of your changing room, was beginning to get really frustrated at the seemingly endless shopping trip, when he hears the curtains being drawn back. There you were, standing in all your glory, waiting for a comment on his part. Unfortunately for you, your appearance seemed to have made his mouth out of service. His jaw was slacked open, unable to utter a single word out.

“Well ?” You raise an eyebrow.

Maybe an arm workout in Soho wasn’t so bad after all.

note. This is for the girlies who take hours in the changing rooms. I see you, and I get you! Take your time queen you deserve it ﾟ｡ ꒱

-> second test

#atsumu x you #atsumu fluff #haikyuu atsumu #atsumu scenarios #atsumu x y/n #atsumu x reader #atsumu imagines #haikyuu x yn #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu drabble #haikyuu x reader #atsumu drabble #hq x you #hq x y/n #hq fluff

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agendabymooner · 8 months

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time to rock and roll || fa14 fic (1)

THE BREAKUP AND MAKEUP DUOLOGY — PART ONE

“when will you learn? i’m the queen and i’ll put you in your place.”

Summary: It was 2007, and Fernando Alonso had to learn the hard way that his ego and pride were getting in the way of the love that he built up with the recently-retired professional wrestler Trish Staedtlander. OR the 2007 Canadian GP left Trish no choice but to put on a brave face and show nothing but indifference. It’s safe to say that Fernando’s pride was immediately humbled by her words and impassive expressions as he begged her to come back.

Content warning: 2007 McLaren driver!Fernando, mentions the spygate scandal, exes-to-lovers trope(ish), use of explicit language, poorly Apple-translated Spanish dialogues, platonic!Lewis Hamilton x OFC, brief Jenson Button x OFC content, mentions brief alcohol consumption, jealous!Fernando, 6300+ words of nonsense.

Note: I cannot believe I have returned to my Nando fucker phase. Enjoy xx

masterlist

“¡Si así es como funciona, entonces me voy! Feliz jodido aniversario para ti.” If this is how it works, then I’m leaving! Happy fucking anniversary to you.

“Vuelve, Trisha,” Come back, Trisha. Fernando sighed exasperatedly.

“No, Fernando,” Beatrice Staedtlander was a force to be reckoned with. With enough time and money, she could do whatever with her life— yet she had chosen him. She expressed her feelings towards travelling with him, telling him that out of those 52 weekends of a year, she only had him for less than a half.

He wasn’t keen on the idea of taking her to every race. The worst part about this was that he decided to turn her down at their second anniversary— three weeks or so after she initially proposed the idea of being around him more often through a call.

Was it because of the grid girls? She asked herself. Because she was certain that she could take it. She fought against the most attractive women in the wrestling industry before, hell she was declared the poster girl for all of them. She definitely had no problem— knowing that she was the one that the Fernando Alonso would come home to.

She tried to explain to him that she was fine with any kind of issues that may come as they travel. She could adjust for him. But that wasn’t why he kept rejecting her.

He could have simply said that he didn't want to be angry at her if he had lost. It was much better to cool off on the flight back to Canada instead of having her witness him in the worst way possible. He could have said all of that, but all he said was that he didn’t want any distraction.

Was that what he really thought of her? All those times she had been with him and he’d be reading something while she spoke… is she just a distraction? Seventeen weekends to compete and another twenty to prepare for the season and all she was to him was something to fill up his schedule?

She really shouldn’t have flown to England for this. She could have just left him working at the McLaren headquarters for his break until the next race.

“I’m going home,” she told him firmly, her voice shaky as she stood there. Her hand gripped the handle of her suitcase as she spewed out, “17 weekends are what I always miss, Fernando, and twenty of those you’re always working or out— so if I’m just a distraction then I’ll make sure to make the rest of your 15 weeks as peaceful as they can be. I don’t want to see you so please don’t come to my house.”

She slammed the door on him and left as soon as she hailed a cab— it took her three minutes to do all of that. Yet it took Fernando five minutes to catch up with her but she was nowhere close to him. She wasn’t in the lobby nor outside waiting for a taxi.

She already left.

“I shouldn’t have retired early.” “You had a bad injury last year, you had to retire early.”

“How do I unlearn Spanish?” “Don’t speak it.”

“Seriously, I really would just like to stay at home and not be here,” Trish whined, playing with the ice on her empty glass. “I’m not fully miserable, guys. Why am I having some sort of intervention?”

“Psh,” Amy scoffed. “I just watched you eat a pint of Ben and Jerry’s for an hour straight while you’re watching Dirty Dancing. It’s been exactly what— seven weeks since you broke up with him. You need the intervention, trust me.”

“I think it’s very brave of you to break up with him,” Jay told her with a slight shrug. Of course he would say that— they’ve dated for three months and Jay constantly flirted with her even after she began seeing Fernando. “Look, maybe if you try to attend the Grand Prix tomorrow you’ll have some sort of closure. You’ll see his face and realize that you deserve better than someone who only cares for you if it’s convenient.”

“I’m not going to fucking go— thank you,” Trish nodded at the server who walked away after giving her the second glass of rum and coke. Sipping on it, she found herself being stared at by her best friends. “I don’t even know why I decided to go to Montreal of all places! I could have gone to Banff for a vacation instead.”

“Because there’s a part of you that wants to support him,” Amy said. “He sent those passes to you in hopes that maybe you’ll watch him race.”

“Tried telling him that before,” Trish huffed out petulantly, “look where that got me.”

“He probably didn’t mean it,” Jay tried to reason out, leaving the blonde to glare at him. She had heard that pathetic excuse before, and she wasn’t about to hear that when defending what she thought was the love of her life. Jay caught the look in her face and grimaced, “Okay, poor excuse, sorry— but maybe there are some things that he hadn’t said?”

“Did he ring you or something?” Beatrice raised a brow.

Jay shook his head slightly, “No, but you’ve seen the man. Does he look like the type to ditch you because he’s looking for something new or something?”

“Yes,” Amy and Trish answered, both looking at the only man at the table.

Amy looked at Trish, “But Trish, come on, how bad could it be? We only have two days to watch— the chances of seeing him may be slim. Plus, we can pull some strings from Stephanie and maybe get some extra privileges that come with the pass?”

“I do like the sound of that,” Jay nodded. “Talk to the McMahons. Probably find a way to get out of the McLaren area?”

“Yeah, I’ll call Steph or something. If not, I'm sure Shane would be generous enough to get us some other paddock passes,” Amy stood up and reached for her phone, flipping it open to contact their former employer’s daughter. She walked away from their booth.

Trish sighed and realized that her drink was empty.

“She’s not calling Shane right? Like my ex, son of my boss Shane just so I can see my other ex race?” Trish asked Jay with a ridiculing face, leaving the other Canadian to shrug his shoulders.

She wished she hadn’t gone to Montreal because she could feel his presence regardless of which part of the city he was in. Those weeks of being alone were hellish, if you were to ask them.

Everyone had taken notice of the model-turned-wrestler-turned-legend when she, alongside her former coworkers, arriving at the Circuit Gilles Villeneuve.

It was surprising, to say the least; she assumed that with what she was wearing - a low rise jeans with her custom buckled belt and some tight white tees - she wouldn’t have stuck out. She wasn’t sure if it was the buckle that caught everyone’s attention - or maybe it was the cowboy hat that she wore in the colour of McLaren. But everyone saw her and had taken photos left and right.

Jay and Amy had also signed some things — seeing as the three of them were to become legends of WWE. They’ve gone around the grid and talked to people. Team principals were rather glad to see the three of them, telling the trio that they made a good impression as professional wrestlers during the Attitude Era.

The three tried to cut the conversations short, not wanting to withhold the staff’s attention to their own racing teams.

Trish dreaded going to the McLaren area, not wanting to see her lover, Fernando, and feeling like she was imposing once more. Like he said, she was just a distraction… so she saw no reason why she should see his team before the qualifying. Her feet were backing off and she was ready to walk away.

She would have gone had it been for a young Lewis Hamilton who caught a glimpse of the Canadian wrestler. He was quick to reach out to her.

“H- Miss Stratus!” He greeted her, nervousness written all over his face but he smiled nonetheless. “Pleasure to meet you, ma’am. My name is Lewis Hamilton.”

Trish quickly recognized the name, “Ah yes! It is very nice to meet you, Hamilton. You’re extremely impressive you know? I’ve watched the races from the television and you’ve got a lot of potential. It’s too bad I’ve never seen you race in person ‘til now.”

“That’s a lot of compliment coming from you,” Lewis chuckled meekly, “and you’re the one to talk. You’ve been an amazing wrestler and character during your active years. Some may think that your championships were nothing but a joke but I think they were rather fitting for your character.”

“Yeah, well,” she shrugged, “when someone tries to bring you down, it’s just easier for you to either ignore them or eat up the attention.”

“And you chose the latter,” Lewis laughed.

“And I chose the latter,” Trish nodded. “As much as I’d like to keep talking I think I’m gonna have to cut the conversation short. I'd hate to impose and distract you—“

“Nonsense!” Lewis insisted, “Alonso’s been looking for you since we arrived a few days ago. I think he was worried you weren’t coming this weekend—“

“What?” Trish interfered, disbelief written in her face as she tried to comprehend what was just said.

Fernando’s looking for her and he’s scared she wouldn’t come.

Her lover had always been confident, some people thought of his personality as something more boastful and egotistical. She always loved that he could get self-assured at times, and that he would often infect her with the same energy until she was at the same level of confidence as him.

But even his fears could get irrational.

Sure, the breakup became the talk of the month or whatever (so far there had been ten magazines that had written about it), but not once did he allow any personal problem to get in the way of his racing. Whatever happened in the tracks, he’d make sure to address it, but he would never jeopardize his race just because he had an argument with his parents prior to the competition.

So his fear of her not being there? Trish was sure that he wouldn’t allow that to get in the way of his world drivers’ championship.

“Yeah, really,” Lewis nodded in confirmation. “I know he had flown out his mother from Spain too, seeing as this was your country and all. Mrs. Alonso keeps telling me that Fernando’s been keeping you from her so she just decided to come here for you.”

Okay, maybe there was a reason why he was scared. But they’ve broken up, have they not? It’s been nearly two months, why hadn’t he told Mrs. Alonso about their breakup? Perhaps she found out already, she probably just wanted to see Trish and possibly bitch-slap the Canadian. Maybe.

“Right,” Trish nodded. “I’ll see him around eventually. Maybe you can let her know I’m here? I’ve got to get back to my friends before the qualifying.”

“No problem, Miss Stratus!” Lewis grinned.

“Beatrice,” Trish told him, “call me Beatrice or Trish. Miss Stratus makes it sound like I’m old or something.”

“Alright… Trish,” Lewis chuckled. “I’ll pass the message to her for you. Hope you find your friends before it gets even worse in the paddock.”

“Thank you so much, Lewis,” Trish smiled softly at the man. “Good luck on your qualifying. Try to aim for the pole.”

“I’ll work hard enough!” Lewis bid his farewell to Trish before returning to the garage. Turning away, Trish kept a small smile on her face before she set off to find Amy and Jay. There was a lot for her to say about what she just found out.

“HOLY SHIT! HAMILTON’S AT POLE!” Jay screamed, his mouth gaping as he turned to look at his friends with widened eyes. The shared flabbergasted look on Amy and Trish’s faces matched with the man as they yelled excitedly, trying not to jump up and down in joy.

“He’s fucking pole tomorrow!” Trish yelled, grin widening even more as she shook Jay’s shoulders.

“…I think you should be more excited for something else, Beatrice,” Amy poked Trish on the side, making the Canadian turn around to face her best friend. Amy pointed at the screen, all of them watching as a checkered flag was displayed next to Fernando’s name and his final qualification time showing up next to the second one. “Nando’s at P2 tomorrow.”

Trish’s smile faltered for a moment, taking in the information as her chest swelled with pride. Her mouth returned to its curled position. She turned around to celebrate Hamilton’s pole position for a literal second and her man came running to retrieve the second position. Talk about a win.

Before they could even leave the McLaren’s hospitality they were approached by a media relations member to let them know about being interviewed. It wasn’t as if they could get out of that duty— Martin Brundle would most likely be the one to approach them if they hadn’t been notified and if there was anything Trish had learned it was that you don’t simply walk away from him.

“Trish, this is the first time I have seen you since last year’s Canadian Grand Prix,” Martin started once he introduced the three. “With what’s happening between you and a certain McLaren driver, or what even happened, how do you feel being in the circuit?”

“Well, I am quite excited for tomorrow. Seeing McLaren with a pole and a second position made me feel so giddy,” Trish grinned. She wasn’t lying, but she didn’t mention him nor the comment that Martin made about their famous break up.

“Rumour has it that you weren’t planning to go this year,” Martin asked her.

Amy decided to answer for Trish, “She wasn’t supposed to. She didn’t want to, I mean. And I know that this had been her tradition since she got her what— fifth— sixth Women’s Championship title?”

“Fifth,” Jay piped up, “if it’s 2005, yeah it’s fifth.”

“Yeah, so this was something that she had been doing since 2005 and if there’s anything that I knew since working with her was that she doesn’t like to skip out of certain traditions. We had to drag her ass out of Toronto a few days ago because well, we didn’t want to waste the passes given to us by a generous driver,” Amy continued, smirking towards Trish’s direction. The Canadian shot her best friend a look.

“Quite the generous driver, indeed,” Martin said, “have you three congratulated him by chance?” At least the man wasn’t singling her out now.

“We have not,” Jay answered, “we were planning to call it an early evening after we speak to their team principal however—“

Meanwhile, next to the trio stood Lewis Hamilton, who was being interviewed as well. He spoke about landing on the pole and how confident he was tomorrow.

Trish thought she misheard what he said as he continued, “I’ve seen Trish Stratus earlier. Trish told me today that I should get the pole position, and obviously being one of my favourite wrestlers and all— I can’t disappoint her.”

“She’s just right next to you actually,” Lewis’ interviewer pointed, making the cameraman pan his camera towards the wrestler who then turned only to see Lewis and the camera in her direction.

“Oh Lewis!” Trish exclaimed, interrupting the conversation between Amy, Jay and Martin as she apologized meekly, “Sorry, Martin. I’ll just move aside for a moment to speak to Lewis.”

Then she walked three steps towards the driver, “Can I give you a hug? Congratulations!”

Lewis took that friendly offer as he grinned, finally pulling away as he said, “Thank you, thank you! We were actually just talking about you and how you told me to get the pole position.”

“And clearly Lewis fulfilled it,” Trish giggled, clapping him on the back. “It’s going to be really exciting to see you tomorrow. And I’ve heard this is your first pole?”

“It is, it is,” Lewis nodded eagerly.

“God, I am so happy for you, Lew!” Trish exclaimed.

“And what do you think about McLaren getting another higher position on the grid tomorrow with Fernando Alonso getting a P2?” The interviewer asked, making the wrestler pause for a moment. Her face remained impassive, not wanting to give the papers more things to write about.

Her quick thinking, thankfully, led her to respond with, “I have always been supportive of each driver and just like the previous races, I never failed to believe that Fernando Alonso would be able to make it in the top ten. Each race that I have been to— I rarely go now— always has the same result with him being successful one way or another.” It was so nice having a media relations manager in WWE. At least she knew how to respond without losing her shit at people who kept on bringing up her ex.

“Do you think that his success in the races you make your appearance in would have to do something with you?” The woman across from the British and Canadian continued to ask, a smile on her face was rather genuine— if you would ask Trish. It was as if they were asking about a romance that had somehow brightened up the racing and wrestling community’s images.

Everyone did tell her and Fernando that while their relationship was made public they somehow managed to show genuineness instead of the fake smiles and pretentious display of affection.

So it never hurt for Trish to reminisce no matter what their situation was now. Trish answered the interviewer and said, “You know… that’s something that isn’t up to me. I know for a fact that Fernando was always made for this sport so me being there wouldn’t change a thing. I could be gone now and he’d still land in P2, you know?”

Amy: Gone down to the bar downstairs. Raikkonen and Button r here. R u coming?

Beatrice: No, too tired. Enjoy though xx

Her room telephone started ringing by the time she shut her phone close, groaning as she glared at the direction of the phone. There was too much to unpack after arriving from the venue that she scolded herself for staying a little longer at the McLaren garage.

Somehow she found a reason why Fernando refused to take her to the races. Being told that she was some distraction did hurt— but being left in the dark about what could potentially jeopardize his career was another. IFinding out about the information from Ferrari being passed to McLaren left a distasteful feeling on her mouth. She never wanted to take back her words of praise from earlier until now.

All the more reason to avoid Fernando right?

Right. But he was determined to make things right for them.

When Trish answered the phone she initially thought that it was either Jay or Amy, exclaiming, “What? I texted you alr—“

“Trish, hija!” The voice on the other side of the call silenced the Canadian, feeling too stunned and unable to speak for a moment as the sweet voice continued, “¿Te parece bien que hable español?” Is it okay if I speak Spanish?

Trish swallowed the lump on her throat and stammered, “Sí, por supuesto, señora Alonso.” Yes, of course, Mrs. Alonso.

“Hace tiempo que no sé nada de ti, mi amor. ¿Cómo has estado?” I have not heard from you for a while now, my love. How have you been? God, those words were angelic. For it to come from her lover’s mother was a blessing that was hard to believe.

Fernando’s mother had always expressed her fondness for the woman. Whenever Trish flew to Spain for holidays— all of which were spent with Fernando— his mother would always make sure that the Canadian had everything she needed. She even taught the younger woman a lot about Spanish culture. Needless to say, Mrs. Alonso enjoyed Trish’s company and vice versa.

“Ah, ha sido duro, pero estoy trabajando duro para pasar el día.” It’s been rough but I’m working hard to push through the day. Trish felt herself smiling before it fell off and asked, “If you do not mind me asking… How did you find my hotel room number?”

“Espero que no te importe, pero Nando ha sido muy reservado sobre ti últimamente. No me gusta ser entrometido, pero si significa para mí hablar contigo, entonces encontraré algo de sus cosas que me lleve a ti.” I hope you don’t mind, but Nando has been very secretive about you lately. I don’t like being nosy but if it means for me to speak to you then I’ll find something from his things that’ll get me to you.

Trish nearly laughed at this. Mrs. Alonso, whenever the couple were miles apart, would take it upon herself to talk in the background and join in at the conversation held between Fernando and Trish. She was rather dedicated to keeping her relationship alive with Trish and the younger woman appreciated that.

“¿Te parece bien si cenamos esta noche? Solo tú y yo, Fernando no estará allí.” Is it okay if we have dinner tonight? It’s just me and you— Fernando will not be there. Mrs. Alonso’s voice sounded more like a plea than it was a suggestion. “Tell me everything that happened.”

And who was Trish to say no? After all, she was the Alonso that Trish liked the most— not that she would ever tell Fernando that. There’s got to be at least something to lie to him about. Especially when he’d done it multiple times.

Their dinner wasn’t tense at all. It was as if they’d forgotten about Fernando for a moment as they chatted away, exchanging their thoughts on the current events and laughing about whatever.

Beatrice wasn’t too keen on telling Mrs. Alonso about the silliest things, but the older woman was a woman of detail. She needed to know how their relationship came to an end so easily. And instead of fighting back on it, Beatrice’s shoulders dropped as she started to tell Mrs. Alonso about what had happened weeks ago.

“We’ve been together for years,” Beatrice said, dropping her hands to avoid playing with her food. She offered a rueful smile to the older woman. “Me hizo sentir como si fuera una carga.” He made me feel like a burden.

Mrs. Alonso sighed quietly, unable to speak on behalf of her son. Fernando should be the one who would own up to his bullshit, and the pride that he carried within him hindered almost every good thing ahead of him. One of them being Trish. Mrs. Alonso figured that her son bringing his girlfriend along on a trip to Spain for holidays was a sign of love he could offer.

But hearing about how he exploded and called her an inconvenience? Fernando couldn’t be more wrong and stupid. Even Mrs. Alonso called him that.

He wouldn’t take Beatrice back home in Spain if she was just another woman to string along. He wouldn’t have lasted for two years in their relationship if he thought that Beatrice wasn’t the woman he wanted to marry. He hadn’t sat her down for three hours while drinking a bottle of wine, teaching her how to speak in Spanish at an intermediate level, just to toss her aside once he got her body trembling.

A non-committal person would do things like that. But Fernando was in love with Beatrice. He’d see the grid girls wink and even put their hands on him, but not once did he ever try to get a taste of infidelity. He wasn’t like that.

It baffled Mrs. Alonso to no end, but at least she expressed her empathy for the younger woman while telling Trish that she’d have a word with her son.

Fernando was an idiot, and Mrs. Alonso was going to remind him how idiotic he could get.

It wasn’t Fernando’s weekend this weekend, but it was Lewis Hamilton’s.

And Trish couldn’t be happier for the young British driver. She spoke to him before his race about keeping his pole position all throughout the race. Then she told him that he’s becoming her favourite driver in the grid (which was true). Lewis Hamilton merely grinned and told her that, “I’ll make you even prouder then, hm?”

And proud, she was. The moment he got an opportunity to be away from the media people, Trish didn’t take her time to drag Amy and Jay to find the man of the night. The Canadian merely rattled off at how exciting the race was for them as they were rooting for Hamilton. Lewis exchanged words and said something like, “I was nervous! I honestly thought I was going to fuck up at some point but no. I didn’t want you to see me race for the first time and watch me be shit at it.”

Their conversation was cut short when he was pulled away by his press officer. Lewis had to beg his press officer to pause for a moment before giving the three a heads up about a party to celebrate his win. Trish hadn’t even realized what she agreed on, waving him off and nodding as if to tell him that he needed to go. He took this as a yes to the invitation. So when she received a text from him (when he took her number) about the details of the party, she only turned to her friends and said, “I hope you’ve got some nice clothes.”

Being invited to a party wasn’t on their agenda. She thought of staying for two or more days in Montreal to visit the basilica and cathedral church— and maybe she’d check out a farmers market and see if they’ve got a stall of local distilleries. So to be a guest of this race weekend’s winner? She was more popular than some of them yet she was worried about how atrocious she looked.

She really lucked out when she managed to pull a going out top from her suitcase. A halter neck handkerchief top was what her eyes had settled on. Blue sequins were shining as she continued to hold it under her room’s light. She didn’t waste any time and prepared to go out tonight with her friends— and her new one, Lewis.

As soon as she arrived with the two, her eyes scanned the place. The dance floor wasn’t empty, but it wasn’t crowded either. She saw Lewis by the dance floor and had chatted with him for a moment before she waved at him, telling him to enjoy his night. She immediately went straight to the bar and ordered a martini.

Her eyes couldn’t help but wander, watching as bodies sucked in the air of freedom and happiness on the dance floor. She could see nothing but enjoyment, one that she craved the most after all those weeks of crying over some man.

Her gaze shifted to a rather expensive space inside the club. She could see a VIP booth full of familiar faces— those that she saw while she walked around the paddock. If everyone were here, as Lewis had told her, then that meant…

“My, my,” she turned away from the VIP table back to the direction of the entrance, finding herself face to face with Jenson Button. He leaned against the bar counter and offered her a smirk. “Aren’t you a beautiful sight to see.”

Thanking the bartender, she sipped on her martini with a scoff and asked, “Did that ever work on the girls you wanted to bed?”

He chuckled heartily, shaking his head as he sipped on his drink — rum and coke. “No,” he teased, “it didn’t work on you, clearly.”

Her face flushed before she turned away for a moment, hearing him laugh at the embarrassment that she felt.

Regaining her composure, Beatrice looked back at Jenson.

She knew that he was joking, but she had heard a lot about the grid singles; they were all trying to gain her attention when she attended the Grand Prix two years ago. Even now, there were still some drivers that were attracted to her. Jenson Button had an underlying problem and it was that his joke was half serious.

She cleared her throat and pointed at the glass in his hand, “Fifth drink?”

Jenson shook his head, “First.”

“I don’t blame you,” raising her martini, she responded with a nod before tipping the drink over her open mouth. The burning sensation down her throat left her hissing quietly, making her companion chuckle in amusement. “It’s nice to know you get off at the sight of a woman in pain.”

His chuckle turned into a snicker as his shoulders shook. He then continued to joke along with her, “Not your thing? We can always compromise.”

She bursted out of laughter, the burning feeling long gone as she exchanged words with him at the bar.

What she hadn’t seen, though, was a quiet Fernando. He was sat at the end of the booth, the dimly lit area hiding the deadly stare that he held while Beatrice and Jenson laughed at whatever the fuck they were talking about.

And as if God was laughing at him, the speakers were playing a remix of Beyoncé’s Irreplaceable. The song mocked Fernando’s vulnerable state.

“I can have another you in a minute, matter of fact he’ll be here in a minute.”

He didn’t know how long he kept his gaze on the same place, or how many drinks Trish had while he zoned out. He shook himself out of his thoughts when Nico Rosberg called him, asking if he’d heard what the German just said. He only nodded but somehow he ended up being roped into a short conversation. He lost sight of her.

“Baby I don’t give a damn, I know your man’s nowhere in sight.”

Kimi Raikkonen, who had downed four shots of tequila throughout the night, decided that it was the right time to speak. He wolf-whistled as he peered over Fernando’s shoulders, his eyes squinting as he watched the dance floor. “Look at that. Jenson lied about being shit at dancing.”

“And your eyes don’t tell a lie.”

Fernando’s head snapped at the direction where Kimi pointed and his eyes narrowed at the sight. It wasn’t a pleasant sight for him.

Because she was his woman. Not anyone else’s. Not Jenson’s.

But with their dire situation, Fernando couldn’t call her his woman. She was single. So he painfully watched Beatrice’s face inching towards Jenson’s.

The BAR-Honda driver’s hands were touching her hips as if he was holding a steering wheel. She smiled at him as if she liked it; Fernando knew she loved how his bigger hands gently rested on her waist whenever he’d sneak up behind her as she made their cups of coffee. Trish didn’t like how Jenson held her. Fernando just knew.

“I know you wanna come with me tonight.”

Right. That was it.

Fernando cleared his throat and stood, wordlessly walking away from the booth as he marched his way towards the two. His hand dragged her away from the British man, his face seething while Trish protested. She could’ve just pulled away because of how little force he had on his hold.

Instead she just followed along as they ended up in a quieter area of the club. A rarity for such a loud venue.

“I can’t believe you,” Beatrice, rather than causing a drama, merely whispered the first four words that she offered him since she walked out with a “happy fucking anniversary.”

“Trisha—“ he tried to reason out, but he was quietened by her glare.

“Everything’s falling apart,” she told him calmly, “everything’s falling apart but you refuse to take accountability for being a part of it.”

He remembered the controversy surrounding McLaren and Ferrari. And how he was somewhat a part of it.

Earlier today, he hadn’t even offered Lewis a congratulations on his first win. He bitterly walked off, frustrated at Lewis’ win and his P9 result. P-fucking-9. He’s been a two time world champion. Now he landed in P9? He was upset. It was even worse when he saw some televised interviews of Lewis and Trish being a little bit friendly as she showered the younger driver with support. Fernando was her favourite driver. Now it’s Lewis.

Then he remembered how he got into a huge argument with her, practically lying about being a distraction to him just to save face. He hated how his pride got in the way of the things he needed, blaming others seemed to be a better option than accepting defeat.

Beatrice continued on, “I gave you two years. I gave you half a year, Fernando. Why haven’t you backed out at the beginning if you thought of me that way?”

“I,” he paused to regain his composure, making sure that he was sober enough to speak. “I didn’t mean that.”

“You were quite passionate when you were screaming abuse at me,” Beatrice muttered sarcastically.

“I don’t, I really don’t— you have to believe me, mi corazon,” as of this point, he no longer had the prideful attitude. He didn’t care if he didn’t. He wasn’t about to lose her for good. “Everything’s falling apart and I wasn’t sure how to get myself out of it.”

“I could’ve done something,” Trish told him, “I could’ve been there to comfort you, to provide input— and I know jackshit about whatever’s happening. You didn’t tell me anything. How am I supposed to believe you after all of that?

“I can’t be the only one responsible here,” she continued with the pain that felt permanent. “You— ugh.”

She angrily wiped her tears away, a slight smudge of her mascara showing her exasperation as she asked, “These papers— those people… when they ask you about me— did you ever try giving them an answer?”

“Did you even tell them how much I fucking meant to you? Or did you just let it all show in front of the cameras because I’m not worth a word to anyone? Did you even bother to look and wonder how the fuck I was doing? After all of that fiasco last year— you weren’t even there!”

“And that was my mistake, Trisha!” He yelled in the same tone as her. Were they ever glad that nobody could hear them with all of the bass boosting inside the club.

Her lips trembled, unable to contain her sadness. She wasn’t even upset at the way he yelled. She was just sad it turned out like this.

He sighed, slumping down against the wall as he leaned his head back for a moment. He couldn’t talk to her if he couldn’t contain his frustration. But then again, if he continued to focus more on himself and keeping his composure— she’d walk away again because of the lack of words he had given her.

His hand reached on her wrist, squeezing it once, “Just stay. Don’t leave, mi corazon.”

“I’m not leaving,” she spoke quietly, slightly tugging her wrist away from his hold. Did he really think she’d leave? She only left months ago because she knew damn well that he’d much rather be alone… and that he didn’t want her there. “Only did that to make things easier for the two of us. I want to talk- and so do you, so I’m not wasting my time on leaving.”

Fernando Alonso never felt the need to explain himself any further to anyone, he could admit. He didn’t give that much shit what anyone would think, thanks to his ego. But he had never felt the need to explain himself this desperately before. He knew too well that the moment he watches Beatrice Staedtlander slip away from him would be the moment when everything ends for him.

“Ojalá pudiera volver atrás en el tiempo para poder contarte todo. Sé que he herido a mucha gente debido a mis acciones y he hecho tanto por ti, ojalá no dejara que mi orgullo sacara lo mejor de mí. Mamá tiene razón. Soy estúpido porque te he deje ir tan fácilmente en lugar de tratar de mejorar las cosas,” I wish I can turn back the time so I can tell you everything. I know I’ve wounded a lot of people because of my doings and I’ve done so much to you, I wish I didn’t let my pride get the best of me. Mom is right. I am stupid because I’ve let you go so easily instead of trying to make things better.

His mind was set on panic mode and clearly the rambling of Spanish words showed it. His eyes, ones that were often playful or stoic, softened as he kneeled in front of her, clasping both of her hands as he said, “Please. Let me back in your heart, Trisha. Let me learn.”

And she couldn’t even fathom the thought of refusing him. Because those two years of relationship didn’t build up to nothing. She hadn’t learned intermediate Spanish in his childhood home for nothing. She hadn’t stayed up late to receive his call for nothing. She wouldn’t have done anything as remotely outrageous as putting his driver number in her tiny bikini for a magazine cover if it hadn’t been for the love and dedication she had for him.

“You’ve always been in my heart, Nando,” she murmured, peering down at him as she held his face against her smaller hands. Pressing down a kiss on his lips, she then said, “But god if you fucked this up, then maybe we really aren’t meant for each other.”

Fernando stood from where he kneeled, his lips capturing hers in a heated yet gentle kiss as his hand sat on her hip. He couldn’t even seem to answer, but it wasn’t as if he'd ever refuse her. She was someone he’d never turn down; not when he knew that she was it for him.

But this wasn’t the first time they’ve broken up. And this definitely won’t be the last time Fernando Alonso would find himself making the biggest mistake of his life. Thank god, Beatrice Staedtlander was there to remind him that his pride would only hinder his chances of making things right.

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gglitch1dd · 11 months

Text

Running Free

Me and the glitches on my discord have been obsessing over Izuku today, and it reminded me that THIS scene exists. So here!! So that you can all know why I love him so much. This is part of a FINISHED fic on AO3 under the name "Running Free" by me, Glitch1d. I hope you love it<3

You and Midoriya escape the Todoroki Kingdom and find yourself in a cabin. Somethings have to be said, but in the end of it. Your both run aways, free to do whatever you want now. And damn, does the fire look hot right now.

Reminder. Reader is AFAB.

Note: Enemies to lovers. Izuku is a human, reader is a dragon (Draikana). HumanxMonster-ish. Please note: FANTASY AU

WARNING: SMUT (Which includes, spit, sucking, vaginal penetration, mxf, biting, licking, scratching, Izuku being pussy drunk, Y/N being nasty, slight degradation, begging, BREEEDING -obviously, this is a GLITCH1D fic. You know what's on here) Words: 6,4k

The stars shone down on the two of you as you both slowly made your way through the forest. You had both crossed over the border of the Todoroki Kingdom, nearly two days ago. It was a long journey trying to get into unclaimed lands far enough that you both knew that you would be safe for a while. The unclaimed lands weren’t as safe as the kingdoms were. Without having any form of official governance, it was often filled with bandits, bounty hunters, monsters and misfits. However, having such a variety of people, meant that there was a level of understanding amongst all that sought a new start there.

It had been night for a long while, hours, and even though you had been conditioned to being away for long periods at a time, it still was strenuous after the day you just had. The storm had raged for those days of travelling. It only stopped, until just a few hours ago, ceased. Midoriya seemed on high alert the whole time. His head raised high as he kept your horse on the path, he wanted the stallion to go on. The two of you had barely spoken since you left the stables of the Todoroki Kingdom, and that was okay for the time being. Other than stopping for water and eating stored apples in the horse’s carry bag, the two of you didn’t talk at all. You were, however, worried about his shoulder that had gotten pierced by the arrow, but he seemed to be able to move easily even with the injury.

Midoriya pulled on the reigns for a moment as he looked to a specific tree. Even in the darkness he could identify what was carved on it. The letters ‘A.S & Y.H’. His shoulders lowered at knowing that the two of you were in the right place. He led the horse to the right past the tree. You didn’t question where he was leading you, as long as the two of you were safe.

Through the trees and bushes, you were both met with a cabin in the woods. There was no light coming from the cabin nor any signs of recent inhabitants. The garden seemed overgrown and the weeds just as wild. Midoriya once again pulled on the reigns, pulling the stallion to a stop. He easily got off the horse, before helping you down as well. He left the horse in your care as he made his way towards the cabin.

You turned your attention to the horse, petting the stallion affectionately. You gave the horse a smile. “Thank you.” You whispered to him. The stallion neighed, shaking his white hair as he flicked his hair at the affection. You smiled, petting down his head.

Midoriya had managed to find the path to the front door. He carefully looked for a potted plant. He found one on the ground. The poor thing was dead. The potted plant had what seemed to be a pair of goggles resting on the soil bed. Midoriya picked the old pair of yellow goggles up. They weighed more than they had to, which told him all he needed to know. He found a slit in the old yellow band and found a hidden key. He used the key for the door, throwing the goggles back to the potted plant. The door opened.

Midoriya sighed in relief. He opened the door fully, entering the cabin. There was a layer of dust around, but that wouldn’t be a problem. The two-room cabin was perfect. He saw the back door and used the same key to open it. The backdoor by the kitchen, led to the backyard where an old vegetable garden was. Sitting under the kitchen window at the back was a tarp covering something. Midoriya pulled it to the side revealing a stack of firewood. Perfect.

You had tied the horse near the front of the cabin, letting him rest and snack on grass while you followed Midoriya inside the cabin. You noticed the dust around and frowned. You decided to find a broom as you walked over to the kitchen part of the cabin. You grabbed the wooden staff of the broom, just as Midoriya walked back inside with small bits of wood to kindle a fire. You moved to start sweeping some of the dust out, as Midoriya crouched down by the unlit fireplace. You made sure to try and get as much dust in the main room as possible so that it would be easier to sleep in tonight.

Perking up at the sound of muttering, you turned to Midoriya who was staring at the fireplace, thinking of ways to light it on fire. You tilted your head in confusion before letting out a small giggle. You temporarily stopped your sweeping, putting the broom against the wall. You walked over to Midoriya who was crouched in front of the fireplace. You careful went onto your knees and took a deep breath. Midoriya was pulled out of his thoughts when he noticed the light that bloomed from your neck and chest as you sucked in a breath of air. Because of the dust, you released a small cough that resulted in smoke coming out of your lips.

You hit at your chest at the smoke and dust, before you felt your nose itch. Without a second to delay it, you sneezed, pushing you back down on your ass and lighting a fire on the small bits of wood in the fireplace. Midoriya had wide eyes at the sudden burst of flames that came from you. You sniffled as you rubbed at your nose.

He looked over at you before chuckling softly. “Well, that was convenient.”

You looked up at him still shaken from your sneeze. You looked towards the now dimly lit fireplace. You perked up in pride of yourself, but still wondering how the place got lit. You both set back to work with a now lit fireplace, that would spread warmth around the cabin. You continued to sweep the dust out the doors while Midoriya brought firewood in and built up the fire.

Once the two of you were finally done, Midoriya pulled up a chair from the table and fell back onto it with a sigh, finally able to rest for a moment. He threw his head back, trying to just enjoy a moment of sitting and nothing else. You watched him for a while, the easy rise and fall of his chest. You turned around him towards another door. It was opened, revealing a bedroom. You carefully minded everything but pulled off two of the blankets. Once you had them as well as two pillows, you walked back into the main room. After making sure they didn’t have dust, you plopped them on the floor.

You walked over to Midoriya and tapped his cold shoulder. He opened his eyes and looked up at you. “I need your clothes please.” You asked him.

Midoriya wanted to complain, but he felt too tired to do that as well. He nodded his head and pulled himself up right. He slipped his shirt off his body, trying to get the wet material off his skin. You turned, leaving him to his devices as you moved to grab a few chairs. You faced them a good distance in front of the fire. You grabbed a blanket and quickly thrusted it over to Midoriya, trying to hide his body from your sight. He chuckled but he handed you his damp clothes. You placed them on the chair. You grabbed a blanket and draped it over your own body, as you took off your clothes. You shifted the chairs in front of the fire but putting them to the side to allow Midoriya and you some freedom and space to access the fire’s heat too.

Instead of heading towards Midoriya, you sat down in front of the fire, clutching the blanket around you as you soaked in the warmth of the flames. Midoriya followed suit, sitting not too far away from you. You could see him slightly shiver at being exposed to the cold and his body catching up with the weather. The only reason you weren’t shivering was because you didn’t catch cold easily even after days of travelling in the rain. You had given him the bigger blanket due to his size, which he was grateful for. He shook his head as he clutched the blanket closer around his body.

It was silent between the two of you. Neither of you having anything to say in particular, as you both just stared at the flames. Even in the dead of night, with no one around but the two of you, it still felt as though there was something keeping you both worlds apart. The crackle of the fireplace was a comforting sound, and one you had missed dearly.

“When...” You turned to look at Midoriya. He had started to speak, his eyes still focused forward but his voice was quiet. “When my mother was younger, she got married to a man.” You shifted to a more comfortable position to look at him as he began to tell you a story. “She loved him dearly. She loved him so much because he was her everything to her. They ran their little greenery together in town and were so happy just the two of them. However, one day, he disappeared. Almost as if he was plucked right out of the earth. But he came back... or supposedly it was him that came back. After a year or two, they had me.” Midoriya tightened the blanket around himself. “Yet when I was still but a babe, not even three years old, my mother found out that whoever this man was next to her, wasn’t her husband anymore. Thats when she found out that he was actually someone named Hisashi Shigaraki. Hisashi, the god of Storms and Destruction.” Your eyes widened at the dramatic turn of events. “He, of course, couldn’t stay with us for long, but he expressed how much he did truly love my mother and I before he left... He had white hair. White like snow. So that’s where the colour comes from, probably.” He expressed to you.

It once again descended into silence as you looked at him. His eyes were unfocused, but he kept his gaze forward. He looked distant, as if he was forcing himself to dissociate from the matter entirely. You frowned, concerned. “So... you’re a... a demi-god?” You asked him. He nodded his head silently. You tried to take that in. You forced a smile to your lips. “That’s cool.” Midoriya’s eyebrows twitched as they furrowed but he couldn’t stop the amused smile and chuckle that escaped his lips. You smiled truly, hearing and seeing him chuckle, even just for a moment. “Why...” You started, making Midoriya look to you. You looked greatly concerned as your eyebrows were furrowed. “Why did you kill him?” You whispered out the question as you turned your head towards him. You were trying to understand him. You really were trying to. You however didn’t blame him for doing so, but at the time, it had not even been more than two hours since you had last seen him and suddenly, he had murdered the king.

Midoriya let out sigh as he turned his eyes back towards the flames. “He... he had this sick plan for the draikanas.” Midoriya revealed to you with a disgusted expression. “It was so fucked up, I couldn’t stand it. The thought of using people for the kingdom’s own political and military gain. It was messed up. It wasn’t right. Everyone has the right to their own bodies. Then he started talking about you... I... I just...” Midoriya found it hard to express. What was he going to say? That he killed thoughtlessly? Well, he did, but he didn’t want to scare you. He didn’t want to see the fear in your eyes again. He sighed. “I couldn’t let him do that. It made my blood boil. It made me sick.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “But why?”

Midoriya scoffed as he turned to look down at you. “Why?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

You nodded your head. “Why? Why would you get angry at something he said about me? It doesn't make sense to me.” You expressed to him.

He looked at you for a moment. You looked genuinely confused with why on earth it would anger him. Why he would get pushed to the point of murder, for something someone else said about you. So many people said things about you before, so you didn’t think such a dire situation like this would happen to you ever.

Midoriya pulled his legs to his chest as he wrapped his arms around his body, trying to keep his body warm. “Ever since the moment I saw you, you had me in the palm of your hand” He confessed. “You... you were like a witch. You bewitched me with those eyes that I could just fall into, your voice that could sing me to the heavens better than any angel and your body that had captivated me better than any succubus could. You... you lit me a flame.” He placed a hand over his chest, covering the scar that crossed over his heart. An organ he thought was useless to him. His eyebrows furrowed. “You lit my heart on fire and called it yours.”

You were silent as you took in what he had just said. Was he telling you the truth? Was he this enraptured by you. How could he tell? Was it going to be just a faze or something real? You tried to formulate a response to him. “How do you know?” You asked quietly.

Midoriya let out a small laugh as he turned his head to look at you. His green eyes meeting your own gaze softly. “How does anybody know? All I know is that I have a feeling every time that I see you.” His voice was soft as well as he looked down at you with a tenderness that you only ever felt whenever he looked at you that way. “I get this feeling inside that I don’t know what to do with. It makes looking at you so...” He seemed to run out of a word to use. He searched your eyes for a moment. “Intoxicating.” He whispered. You felt heat bloom to your face that wasn’t from the fire in front of you. “When I’m with you, I don’t feel as though waking up is a chore. You make me look forward to going through my day for just a glimpse of you.” He whispered. “Suddenly, life seems bearable.” He turned his gaze away from you, back to the fire. “Of course, I realize that maybe forcing you to come along my new adventure as an outlaw was a bit selfish.” He said with an embarrassed smile as he scratched the back of his head.

You giggled to yourself at his words. You nudged him with your head softly. “Maybe a little.” You shrugged.

Midoriya chuckled with a nod. “Yah... but listen Y/N.” He turned to you. His expression turned serious. “If you ever feel as though you have to stick by my side, don’t. I don’t want you to feel that because you were gifted to me, or because I confessed to you, that you have to be here with me. You’re free now. You can do whatever you want to do.”

At that you felt your body freeze. Free. You were free. You didn’t think you could understand the concept anymore, nor know if you would ever be truly. You could do whatever you wanted to do. Go wherever you wanted to go. But go where? Do what? You didn’t know if you even wanted to do anything on the main island of Yuuie. It wasn’t even like there was a home for you to go back to. But you were free. You had a say in what you wanted to do or accomplish.

Midoriya watched as several thoughts and emotions raced through your head. He opened his mouth to speak.

“What if I want to stay with you?” You turned your head to look up to him.

Midoriya’s eyes went wide in surprise as his eyebrows raised as well. He was taken by surprise at that question. “You do? I don’t think I want to go back to the estate.”

You lowered your arms over your body. You shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

“I’m living as an outlaw.”

“I’ve lived worse.”

“I...” Midoriya sighed as he dropped his own arms as well. He grasped one of your hands and held them in his larger ones. “Don’t you want a say in who you want to be with?”

You smiled up at him. “I do.” You pushed yourself up and crawled over to him. You sat on your knees in front of him and placed a hand over the scar on his chest. Both your gazes flicked up to meet each other's. “I choose you.”

You could feel his heart thumping in his chest as he looked up at you with passion in his eyes. The both of you stared at each other for another moment, until you both realised that you were currently sitting naked in front of each other without the blankets shielding your fronts from one another. You kept your hand against his cooler skin, finding the temperature worrisome.

You careful crawled into his lap, making Midoriya’s face bloom a slight pink. A beautiful draikana was in his lap. He didn’t know exactly how to act right now. You settled on top of them, wrapping your arms around him. You let his skin touch your much warmer one, wanting to keep him warm to. You closed your eyes as you placed your head against his chest. A rumble of sorts sprouted from your chest as you wrapped your limbs around him. You settled your hands on his back on his shoulder blades. “You should stay warm, Midoriya.” You tell him.

“Izuku.”

“Bless you.”

“No I-” He chuckled at the miscommunication. He tilted your head up to look at him, his thumb resting on your chin as he looked down at you heatedly. “Call me, Izuku.” He requested.

You smiled at his given name. “Izuku.” You couldn’t help but broaden your smile at his name. “I love it.”

“Well, I hope so, I can’t exactly change it.” You both chuckled as you kept your gaze up to him. Wide eyes looking up at him as if you expected him to do something.

But if Midoriya were to be honest, all he could think about right now was the fact that he was trying so desperately not to get hard right now and not focus on your inner thighs nor the increased heat coming from your sex in his lap. He swallowed down hard as he tried not to absolutely ruin it.

Luckily for him, you were catching on rather quickly. It was rather easy to tell when a male was aroused. You chuckled as you glanced down between the both of you. “You seem excited.” Midoriya felt his cheeks burn with more heat. He tried not to die of embarrassment as he hummed in agreement, eyes wide as he looked away from you. Angry at his body. You chuckled.

You trailed one hand away from his back and to his front. You dragged it down his pecs and his abs down to the thick green happy trail. Midoriya stiffened for just a moment, waiting to see what you would do next. You wrapped your warm hand around his cock, making him suck in a breath. Your smile turned devious. You began to pump his length in your hand. He was hot. So hot in your hand and yet everywhere else was slightly cool to the touch. Midoriya’s eyes shut slowly as a soft groan left his mouth. He leaned back, with one hand supporting him as he let you do as you wish.

“You know us draikanas take mating very seriously.” You tell him with a teasing voice. “You understand that, right?” You asked as you stopped your hand, gripping his cock lightly, teasing touches more than anything serious. You glanced down at the hard twitching length. A beautiful cock in your opinion, flushed pink with a mushroom head to match. However, it was the girth and size of him that had you drooling.

Midoriya groaned, nodding his head to whatever you were saying. He was too consumed by the pleasure you were feeding to his body, to truly care about what you were saying, but he heard you. He always heard you. However, it didn’t make him any less breathless. “Yes. Yes. Whatever you say, as long as I am yours.” He opened his eyes, dark hooded eyes of lust.

You smiled at his words. You raised yourself higher to face him. You nodded your head. “Yes...” You whispered. “And as long as you are mine.” You placed your free hand on his flushed cheek. You bent over to his ear. Your mouth brushed his ear as you whispered. “Now... take me Izuku.”

With a playful growl, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you down for a kiss. With a deep breath, you both sighed into the kiss, having each other in your arms. His cooler skin moved against your hot skin, as if there was a fire blazing behind it. His hands settled on your hips for now, keeping you right down against his pelvis. You whimpered as you dug your nails into his soft skin. You wanted more than just his soft lips with his teasing licks and bites to your lips.

Midoriya groaned as he moved his hands to your ass, gripping each globe of flesh in his large hands. You whimpered at the grip he had on you. He started to knead at your skin, wanting to enjoy the feeling of your naked body finally down against him. He moved back trying to catch his breath with a gasp, his lips brushing against yours. “Y/N.” He whispered it to you, as if it were a song only you could hear.

He moved his fingers closer towards your heat. His fingers itching to sink deep into the warm wet hole that was your sex. Midoriya hummed with a smirk as his fingers brushed the lips of your cunt. He moved his head back amused. “You’re dripping.” He teased.

“Am I?” You asked slyly.

Suddenly a finger plunged deep inside you. You threw your head back with a moan. You moaned out for his ears alone at the feeling of him finally giving your sex some much needed attention. He felt you squeeze his finger as you whimpered. Your twitching hole wrapped around his fingers. You already started moving your hips, even with only one finger in. He could feel in the slight quiver to your legs, that you were sensitive.

A hand came down, slapping your ass with a teasing bite to your bottom lip. With a whimper leaving your lips, Midoriya’s grin couldn’t help but broaden. “Don’t get cocky now, or else...” His finger started to bend and move in and out of you. The feeling of thick heavy and sweet slick dripping down his hand was almost euphoric of a feeling. “I’m not afraid to put you back in your place, my shining diamond.” He assured you.

Feeling your sex stretch more, he included another finger. You whimpered at the use of two of his thick fingers inside you. His calloused fingers rubbed inside you, your mind chasing the pleasure they were giving you. You knew by all the scars on his hands and the strength he held in his body, that he was skilled, but you never thought you would experience it like this. You whined as one of your hands found his hair. You buried your hands deep into the abyss of soft curls. “More.” You keened.

“More?” He asked mockingly. “What? Are two fingers not enough for you?” You knew he was teasing you. You knew how much he wanted you to beg. He wanted you to feel as though you couldn’t breathe with him and without him.

You gave him an almost betrayed look on your face as you kept moving your hips to the way his fingers were moving inside you. “Please.” You whispered to him. “Izuku, please. I need it. I need you.”

If Midoriya could have this moment engraved into his brain, he would. Having you whimpering and pleading for him to give you more pleasure. It was just too good to pass up. He grinned up at you, his canines glinting. Made you wish he had his mouth to your neck as well. If only he were a drake, and had the same impulse to claim you as you did him. But unbeknownst to you, Midoriya had a burning fire for you in his heart that could rival your very own. He moved to kiss your sternum, moving towards onE breast. Just as he took a nipple into his mouth, he bullied a third finger inside you. He felt as your whole body went pliant on top of him, your body relaxed as you sunk deeper into his lap, to allow him to do as he pleased.

You were mewling and whining at his fingers entering and exiting you, growing in speed and force. It felt so good, and you couldn’t even think of anything else other than the pleasure. You closed your eyes. Midoriya sucked and nipped at your chest, licking and sucking the living daylights out of you at any sensitive zone he could.

He could feel the way you were tightening around his fingers that any moment you were probably going to cum. He smiled as he removed his mouth from your skin. A single trail of saliva connecting his pink lips to your skin. He wanted to pay attention to this. He wanted to see you fall apart at the seams because of him. He wanted to watch and have it stored as a core memory. He wanted to have you screaming his name if he could.

Wanting to give you more pleasure, Midoriya’s thumb brushed against your clit. Instantly you jolted up at the sudden attention to the sensitive bud. “Izuku...” At the sound of his name on your lips, he couldn’t help but keep up his efforts. Tracing figure eights against your clit as he moved his fingers in and out of you. Sloppy obscene sounds coming from your sex as juices trickled down his hand and onto his lap. You tensed up as you rolled your eyes back. “Izuku! Too much! H-hold on- I- I'm going to-”

Your body seized into an arch as you tugged roughly on his hair and your nails pierced his back. You were stuck in a silent scream as you finally reached your high, almost mind numbingly so. Whimpering sounds came from you as you came around his fingers that didn’t stop nor differ in their speed. Midoriya watched with dark eyes as you fell apart because of him. Watching your body relax once more before collapsing against his chest. Slight shivers to the aftershock went through your body. You whimpered as you kept a hold of his body. Your head buried in the crook of his neck as you bucked your hips. “Fuck...” You whispered through stuttered breaths.

He wanted to see all the red lines you had caused to his back.

He heard you whine in pain at the overstimulation he was causing by keeping his thumb against your clit. You tightened your thighs around him and continued to drag your fingers down his back. “Izuku... Izuku please... t-too much... too mu-much.” You moaned out.

He chuckled as he listened to your wishes. He let his fingers exit out of the hot cavern that was your sex. Your body finally relaxed, in relief from the constant onslaught of pleasure for you. He kept his green eyes stuck between you, watching as heavy slick sat between his fingers. His cock twitched at the scene. He felt like he could have absolutely come just at the sight of you. But no. He wouldn’t do that. He wanted to cum inside you and since you were a draikana, it wouldn’t exactly be a problem.

Hopefully.

That thought sent a shiver down his spine.

You watched wordlessly as he looked back up to you. Without breaking eye contact, he put his fingers together and licked up his hand. His tongue against each and every single one that was inside you, a smirk sitting on his face at your hypnotised expression. You felt a shiver run down your back at that, a smile to your own lips. He groaned, rolling his eyes back at the taste of you. “Fuck, you taste amazing.” He said more for himself than for you. You smirked, watching as his eyes settled on his fingers. You moved, catching his attention. You took his wrist and guided to your mouth, wrapping your mouth around his fingers. You sucked on his fingers, letting the taste of him and you trickle on your tongue. You left his fingers, licking up the back of his hand, keeping your tongue out for him to see. Midoriya looked you up and down. “Holy shit.” He whispered. “You... you leave me speechless.” Midoriya slowly fell back, you still straddling his waist.

You hummed with a chuckle, bringing your tongue between your teeth. “I sure hope so.”

“Y/N...” He spoke your name lowly. You gripped his pecs as you attempted to sit yourself up, straddling his hips. He looked up at you seriously. “Do you want to continue?” He asked you. He was giving you a free exit card. He wouldn’t continue if you felt like you couldn’t handle more. At the thought of it, you were slightly offended, but then again it was also sweet.

You smirked as you pushed yourself up, reaching back to take a hold of his leaking cock. Midoriya tensed for a moment, you settled in back, bringing the head of his cock to your entrance. You smirked down at him. “If it means you breeding me.” You started to push back feeling him bully his way inside your sex. “Then yes.”

At your words you watched his eyes darken with a hidden desire you hadn’t seen before. Something so dark and twisted in the flames of his heart you were scared to even call it anything but pure lust. Midoriya looked up at you with a broad smirk. Quickly taking control of the situation, Midoriya grabbed your thighs and slowly sank you down on his cock. You gasped at the intruding feeling of him slowly filling you up. You couldn’t breathe. It was too much, pushing against you and forcing you to accommodate his size. You were suddenly very grateful for the hold he had on your thighs.

Finally, you were fully seated on his cock, your expression almost drunken at the feeling. But you weren’t the only one. You heard a whimper coming down from him. His mouth slightly apart at the feeling. He was drunk off of you. The warm and hot feeling of you trying to keep his cock inside you as if he wanted to go anyplace else. He gasped at the feeling of your sex fluttering around him. He closed his eyes as he gripped your hips tighter, his grip no doubt would have bruised. An almost pained groan came from him. “F-fucking hell.” He whimpered out. A shiver went down his back at the feeling. He tried to control his breathing and his cock, but you were making it damn hard on him.

You smirked down at him, your arms barely able to keep you up. “You alright?” You asked mockingly.

Midoriya opened his eyes, a half-lidded gaze was your answer. “I think you just made me religious cause, I just saw the gates of heaven.” At his words you tightened around his cock only making him groan. He slightly arched his back as he made a sound almost as if he was in pain. “Fuck. If I keep you on top, I’m going to cum before I even fuck you.” Easily, he flipped the two of you over, a hand holding your back so that you wouldn’t fall back down roughly off his cock. He sat you down on the blankets, in front of the fireplace. His large frame finally caging you down. He looked down at you were a masterpiece. All he could see was perfection in his eyes. He moved your thighs higher to rest on his shoulders. He held you sweetly but with such a devilish look on his face, all you could think is how he was the demigod of destruction. “I want to see it again.”

“See what?”

He moved his hips back, and you felt him slowly leaving you, taking away that full feeling but not completely. He bent down to your ears, forcing you into a mating press. He smiled against your ear. “Heaven.” He thrusted back inside you, making you moan at the action. Not changing position, Midoriya pounded into you like his life depended on it. One hand kept his weight off your body while the other, held you in place just for him. You moaned as you kept a hand around his neck, your fingers twisting and pulling at his locks of hair. The feeling of his cock just brushing your cervix making you squeak and relax down into the blankets underneath you.

“Izuku. S-so good.” You let out slurred as you tried to utter words to him, but you couldn’t get past much.

Midoriya kept his head down, the light from the fireplace next to the both of you illuminated the beads of sweat that littered his body. He groaned as he moved in and out of you. He couldn’t will himself to think of anything but the pleasure and passion between the two of you. He was sure he could feel your heartbeat and his sync and he couldn’t even stop to figure out where you started and where he began. He groaned out as he dipped his head to the crook of your neck. “You’re so fucking perfect. So good to me. Fuck, I love the way you look with my cock inside of you.” Midoriya couldn’t stop his babbling as he maintained the steady rhythm in and out of you. With the way you were gripping his cock, you were trying to milk him of all he was worth. Trying to keep his cock sheathed inside you and never to leave you till the world ended.

The sounds of skin against skin and the soft squelching of your sex only fuelled the growing and building tension between the two of you. The feeling of your hands digging into his back and gripping his hair harshly only made him groan. Here you both were, two souls that thought they were worlds apart, now together as one nothing separating the two of you. He could feel the heavy building need of release at the pit of his abdomen, but he couldn’t stop. He didn’t want to stop.

He could feel it in the way your thighs started to quiver, and how much you were tightening around his cock. You were heading there yourself. Your grip on him only growing stronger. “Izuku.” Midoriya moved his head to look down at you, his strokes less rhythmic and more urgent and needing. You saw him begging you with his eyes. You smiled up at him, tears in your eyes. You moved to hold his face in your hands. “Please.” You whispered.

His shoulders lowered in relief. He nodded. A hand went down to your clit, making you jolt. You moaned at the increasing tension at the pit of your stomach. You whimpered and squealed and with one more thrust, you both went tumbling down into pleasure. “FUCK.” Midoriya gripped your body so hard, you were afraid you were going to break. Electric sparks went around his body, a shiver of fear and pleasure going down your back. Your body shook in pleasure as you arched into him. Your mind shattered into pleasure and nothingness other than the feeling of each other. Your bodies moulding into something of pleasure and lust. The feeling of him filling you up only fuelling your contentedness.

You both sighed as Midoriya relaxed on top of you. Both of your hearts racing a mile a minute and your breaths heavy. Midoriya stayed inside you, his grip on you still tight as he saw stars for a second. You both were quiet for a moment as you slowly used every bit of your strength left to hold him in your arms. You smiled and placed a kiss into his hair. “Did you see it?” You asked.

For a moment, Midoriya didn’t even know what the hell you were talking about. Then he remembered. He smiled tiredly. “Turns out...” He lifted his head and placed his forehead against yours. He softly rubbed the inside of your thigh as he did so. “Heaven is right in front of me.”

...

Wanna read the entire fic of this enemies to lovers? Head over to the link below to where the AO3 link is. I promise you, I write Izuku like you have never seen... or so I've been told.

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beefboyandbabygirl · 10 months

Note

if you’re requests are open i saw a tweet abt this couple on a date and when they kissed, his apple watch started beeping bc of an abnormal heart rate and i just couldnt help but think of vernon getting all awkward and red and shy,,,,, like he wants to play it cool in front of you but in reality he’s been pining for nearly a year and is nearly shitting his pants bc he finally got you JWDDKLZDOEKDIDK

this is so cute and hilarious i cant

Heart-b-b-beat

⊱ ━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━ ⊰

pairing: vernon x reader

genre: fluff, suggestive, established ish relationship (like its a relatively new relationship okay u get it)

warnings: kissing, implications and thoughts of sex so MDNI!!! (even tho its very subtle idk im just being safe), uhh very detailed descriptions of being in love? plz lmk if theres more this feels strangely short lol

quotes from beefboy: "hes such a LITTLE CUTIEPIE", "maybe i can write vernon i just have to copy ur style" (that one made me proud)

wordcount: 708

I have no fucking idea what to do.

That was what Vernon thought to himself. Every. Single. Day. Every single day since you started dating.

He was happy, of course. That was the problem. He was so indescribably, extraordinarily, pathetically happy and in love with you that the nerve endings going from his brain to his body had begun to malfunction on a daily basis. The feeling was bittersweet. On one hand he had never felt better in his life, and on the other he was fully panicking because he wanted so bad to show you and tell you how incredible it felt to be yours.

“Vernon? Vernon.”

He blinked a couple of times before his eyes landed on you.

God. You.

His hands were doing something weird, and he was all of the sudden too aware of his posture and did his hair look okay? Did you think he was annoying? Maybe you thought he was thinking perverted thoughts, and it wasn’t like that would be the first time, but you couldn't know that!

“Yes, sorry. Hi. I'm here."

That was so fucking lame.

You giggled. “It’s okay. What were you spacing out about?”

Your grabbed the straw in your drink to take a sip. If you gave him that look while having your lips wrapped around that stupid paper tube for one more second, he was going to pass out.

“Oh, uh- Uh, nothing.”

For a moment too long he forgot about looking back at your eyes after having ogled at your lips (beautiful, plump, lipglossed lips-), so he tried to be casual about it and flick his gaze towards the table behind you, or the waiter passing by.

Smooth as hell.

“My eyes are up here, you know.”

Nevermind.

“Sorry, I was just- Sorry, I swear I'm paying attention now.”

And he was. Oh, how he was paying attention. He was paying attention to your melodious laugh, and the cute way your nose scrunched up, and your hand raising to rest under your chin. Then you made eye contact with him. Deep eye contact. He could’ve sworn nobody had ever looked this deep into his eyes. He felt very naked under your gaze.

Not that he minded that.

“You can kiss me, you know?”

The restaurant suddenly felt all swirly and trippy, like the funhouse at an amusement park. He mentally replayed your words in slow motion to be sure he wasn’t just hearing what he wanted to hear. This was what he had needed. A push. A sign. And you had given it to him, so casually like you were asking if he could pass you the salt, and he finally felt like he could function properly.

“Do you want me to?”

Yes. That was so confident and hot.

Your answer was a simple nod, followed by a stern yes, and admittedly your demanding tone was doing things to his body as his lips met yours. If he was happy before, he had no idea what this feeling was. He couldn’t even imagine a word for it existing. It was a buzz flowing all the way from the tips of his toes, to the crown of his head. It was a bright glowing warmth radiating from his heart to the surface of his skin, and your skin was equally bright and beaming and it felt like he was melting into you. The table was spinning, all sounds of clinking glasses and strangers chatting were muted, and it was just you and him. Just you and him, in a little empty, undisclosed pocket in time and space.

“What was that?”

Apparently his body was still in shut-down mode because he hadn’t felt his Apple Watch vibrating and going off on his wrist in the middle of the best kiss ever.

‘High Heart Rate

Your heart rate rose to above 120 bpm, while you seemed to be-’

A teasing smile crept up on your face, only centimeters away, as Vernons eyes left the text on the screen.

“You wanna leave?”

“What? No I’m fine, my watch was just alerting me-”

“I'm not talking about your watch, babe. I'm asking. Do you wanna leave?”

Oh.

Oh…

Vernon had never left a chair that fast in his life.

#vernon x reader #vernon fluff #vernon oneshot #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen oneshot #svt fluff #svt oneshot #svt x reader

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rennorthernlights · 4 months

Text

The World We Knew

Chapter 1: Radioheart, Chapter 2, Chapter 3,

Trigger warnings; Zombies, mentions of death, very brief mention of suicide in the very beginning.

You can also go to AO3 for RenNorthenLights. I post more on there than here. If you go to my AO3 than PLEASE look at the tags for this fic! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

——————————————————————————————

October-ish, 2023. Time??? Location???

It’s become almost routine now.

Waking up at the ass crack of dawn, checking her backpack, cleaning her rifle, making sure the ‘room’ she’s in is safe. Over a year ago she wouldn’t be up this early. Over a year ago she wouldn’t even be touching her fathers rifle without permission. But life has a funny way of throwing curve balls. In this sense, life threw a massive curve ball at everyone and everything. The world as she knew it become sick with disease— No, not COVID-19, though many speculated that it was the reason, the beginning of it all. No it was the dead-come-back-to-life-and eat-your-face kinda disease. Normally people bring up that type of disease in conversations with speculations on the “what if” scenarios of what they’d do.

Many of her college friends all had plans and ideas and yet most of them now roam the streets looking for the next person to chomp on. Ironic isn’t it? She never believed she’d live this long hell many times the conversation of “Quick a zombie apocalypse happens! What do you do?!” She’d laugh and says she’d die in the next month or two. To which her friends would moan and groan because surely “You wouldn’t give up so easily?? Come onnnn what would you actually do.” She’d think it over and before putting much thought, she said.

“I’d kill myself.” Her friends went silent before laughing at how serious she sounded and even she laughed. A good banter back and forth as her college friends sipped on cheap booze. “No, no, but in all seriousness. I’d stay with my parents. My dads a police Captain after all. He’s taught me how to shoot before I could write and my ma… well she’ll probably teach me something.” Snorting a chuckle since her moms a teacher. One of her friends asks what she’d do if her parents became zombies.

“Well I guess I’d try to find groups to stay in. What do y’all think? I guess I’d put up with y’all.” Nudging her friend playfully on the shoulder. Laughter in the room as the music starts playing and the cheep booze starts kicking in. As her friends dance and sing to “Only Girl in the World” by Rihanna she sits on the couch in deep thought. Her drink in hand as she thinks bout her life. Thinks about her finals coming up and how she’s gotta take all the tests to become a nurse. Both her parents were exceptionally happy that she didn’t follow in their footsteps.

“I love kids but please… do not become a teacher.” Her mother sounded so exhausted when they spoke early on the phone. “And don’t become a police officer!” Her father yells in the background. The running joke for every phone call even though her parents are well aware that she’s going to be a nurse. She’s been deadset on it since she was a kid. She doesn’t plan on telling her ma that she’s gonna try and apply to be the school nurse where her ma works. Sipping her booze some more as the apple news on her phone pings “Reports of a New Virus, Scientists say… ”

She huffs, reading the first couple of paragraphs before getting bored and exiting out of the article. “Probably another variant of COVID. Great another shot I’m gonna have to take.” Turning her phone off and chugging her drink before she starts dancing with her giggly and much too drunk friends.

————————————————————

Oh how life turned so fast and so quickly the following week. Nearly half of the friends in the room became the first percentages of “Turned” and the other half “Missing, have you seen them?” She barely made it out herself. But that’s life. Cruel and beautiful and so, so lonely in the world she now knows. She stays too long thinking about it and she’ll drown. She doesn’t want to think about her friends, her home, her… family. It’s still too much even after all this time. Even with it being well over a year it still hurts.

Shaking her head of those thoughts as she gets situated. Glad that she triple checked the ‘room’ she’s in. Her anxiety has been through the roof these last couple days and every lil noise is having her jump. At least she can put her mind at ease since she’s checked and barricaded the exit. A couple deads outside that she handled quickly. Who knew that she’s be so proficient with a bat and knife? She’s a good shot but before a to keep her rifle hidden. Not many bullets being made anyways..

She turns her radio on as she waits for it to come to life. For months she been speaking on it. Using it as a dairy of sorts, it helps her when she feels the loneliest. Helps when the days feel colder than what it typically does in Texas. She spoke and spoke until one day it started speaking back. The man on the radio commented how he’s been hearing her speak and at first, he and his group thought it was a hoax since they couldn’t get the radio to work. She didn’t speak on it for days, but the men would still speak back and call out to her.

Finally, she worked up the courage to speak back and from then on, they’ve become a part of her routine. Once a day around noon they’d speak. She has her rules, No names, no locations, no descriptions. She doesn’t want to get attached only to one day not hear them speak back again. She doesn’t need another name added to her list of grief. That, and as much as she wants to trust them, she knows that humans can be just as dangerous if not more so.

“Static, come in Static.” She grins as she sits in the office room that she’s been sleeping in. Stretching her legs as she’s never gotten used to the floors even after all this time. Her legs stiff as her other hand rubs her knee. The radio crinkles and scratches until finally.

“Must you keep calling me that?” The man speaks, the heavy Scottish accent shining through, and she can just tell he’s grinning. “I’ve told ya, mah name is Joh- “

“No,” she cuts him off as she clicks on the button. “No names. I don’t... I don’t want to hear it, please.” She’s told him before that she doesn’t want to hear his name. He’s been understanding but sometimes he’ll still try it... The thought that there is an actual person behind the radio scares her and intrigues her. Hearing someone even through all this mess makes it all bearable even if it’s just by a little bit. “Don’t make me ‘hang up’.” A lighthearted threat. She wouldn’t actually do that. She needs her daily talks with them.

“I know, Bonnie, I know,” the voice speaks with understanding. The man knows all too well on why it’s easier to stay nameless, easier to not be attached incase the voice one day doesn’t speak back. “But one day I would love ta hear my name from your pretty voice.” The voice chuckles, “Where are ya now?” A hopeful tinged to his voice.

“You know I don’t give locations, Static.” Singing back her words with a furrow of her brow. “But… I’m in an office building.”

“Ah, I see that’s become a fan favorite of yours.” A tease in the man’s voice. “Oh, it seems my friend wants to speak to ya.” Her eyes perk up as she knows who is about to speak.

“Electricity!” She smiles big and she just knows Static is rolling his eyes.

“Sunshine haven’t heard from you since, Static,” emphasizing the other man’s nickname and she can practically hear the glare. “has been hogging you.” Electricity, as she’s been calling him even though he’s also tried to get her to call him by his name, has a much softer voice. Calmer and levelheaded compared to Static who's more outgoing and louder. She’s called them the duo 1 and duo 2 before she called them Static and Electricity. Much to their annoyance and amusement, much better than her other idea of calling them Thing 1 and Thing 2.

“Well next time hit him or something.” She smiles as she can hear Static mouthing off something. Probably Static telling him where she’s been in for a bit. “In an office building again? That seems to be your usual, yeah?” The man speaks lowly. His words concerned and yet with the subtleness of memorizing something.

“Am I that predictable, Electricity? She stands up from where she was sitting. “Static said something similar.”

“Not predictable just doing what you always do, Sunshine.”

“That’s… That means I’m being predictable.” She teases as he stammers.

“No, no, I meant that you are more comfortable with what you know to be safe.”

“Soooo predictable with my safety?” She teases as she can hear him muttering “bollocks” like he always does when, she assumes, he is flustered. “I’m pulling your leg, Electricity. Just messing around and being a brat.”

He laughs and sighs in relief. His voice cool like the summer breeze after a rainy day. “So where are you?” His voice sounding slightly insistent.

“No where near you.” Rolling her eyes as they always ask the same questions everytime they talk. “Quit askin, I’m fine on my own. I don’t do groups and you know why.” She’s told them about her run in with the only group she’s been with. Handmaidens Tale meet zombie apocalypse and she barely got out.

“I know, I know, you’ve done well on your own, but a little help goes a long way, Sunny.” Sometimes she wishes she would hate the nicknames that they give her but it does give a warm fuzziness in her stomach whenever they say it. Sighing as she speaks back. “Oh yes because you’re military right?” A bit of sarcasm in her voice as this is one of her questions that she always asks.

“Taskforce 141, Special Operation Forces, you already know this, Lass.” The other man speaks making her jolt. Guess he was listening in when she was speaking to Electricity.

“Yeah, yeah, just making sure you’re not lying and trying to sound more badass than you both already do.” Remarking quickly as a light blush spread on her face. The way he’s speaking sounds deeper. Like she’s in trouble somehow and he’s going to correct her.

“We know, Sunshine, we know you just want to be safe. It’s hard to trust especially with the dead around.” Electricity’s speaks softly, the cool to Static’s heat, “But to say it again; Joh— I mean, Static, is a Sergeant and I am also a Sergeant. Static is an expert in demolitions and trained as a sniper. I myself am an expert with prime target eliminations and covert surveillance.” He says it so sincerely and she has half a mind to believe him.

“And why are you all the way in Texas then?” They’ve told her how they moved up here and she knows the reason, but she wants them to say it again.

“We received word that a base, Fort Sam Houston, was working on a cure for the zombie virus. The BAMC is a hospital within that fort that was conducting research.” Electricity sites off the very thing that they’ve repeated for the last month.

“And?” She makes a go on motion that they can’t see but she knows that they can imagine that’s what she’s doing.

“But when we got there it was already over run and Kyl— I mean Electricity almost got killed in the process.” Static says, he sounds upset. “We’ve been over this, Lass. We tell you about the same things over and over again.” A hushed murmur from Electricity is heard and she starts feels bad.

“I know… I’m sorry, I just...” she starts off as she tries to not sound upset. “I just want to make sure that I can trust you. Last time I did...”

“Handmaidens tale, you’ve told us about it. The leader, Abraham, is a far-right Christian, yes?” Static says the man’s name and she shivers as she gives a tiny yes in reply. “He tried to keep you. To force you to stay with his group and be treated as a... how did you say it?”

“A breading cow.”

“Yes, that,” he sighs deeply on the radio, and she wonders what he and Electricity looks like. Wonders if they are as comforting as their warm voices. Wonders if they have beards or stubbles but her self-imposed rules keep her from asking. “I know it’s a lot, learnin ta trust when it's hard to. We’ve promised since the beginnin ta be honest and if I ever see him.” The threat is laced in his voice but he clears his throat. “Enough of that. We are finally moving to Houston. We acquired a car. A Jeep to be more precise. Any chance we’ll be near ya?”

“You might be…” she says softly as she bites her tongue. The urge to let them come to her gets harder and harder to say no to everyday they speak. “I don’t give locations, Static.”

“I know but can’t blame a man for trying. Oh?” She can hear his eyebrows furrowing as voices in the background speak. They’ve told her that they are a group of 4 in total. She’s never heard the other 2 speak but she can sometimes hear them… they sound funny. “It seems we have to cut this shorter, Bonnie.”

“We’ll speak again tomorrow, Sunshine, we promise.” The other man promises, and she knows they will. They’ve never broken a promise. Never did more than what they couldn’t do from the month that they’ve talked.

“I’ll see you both tomorrow and please,” she stresses the word as she hopes and prays that one day they can meet. That she’ll be brave enough to let them in and find her. “Please be safe. Please don’t get hurt, okay? I’ll metaphorically hit you, I swear I will.”

“Always, Bonnie, we will always be safe. Take care and check corners and windows. Make sure you can quickly get’n and out. Don’t go’n if your gut tells ya not to.” Static says, listing off his advice like he would to a fresh-faced recruit. “Don’t play fair and don’t play kind. Everyone’s an enemy until proven otherwise.” He waits a couple seconds before he passes it to the other man.

“Make sure to pack light and that you can easily grasp your weapon.” Electricity warns. A deep sigh from him before he speaks, “And if you ever… if you ever need help, just... please just tell us. We’ll do whatever we can to come for you, okay?” He waits and waits for her to speak but when she doesn’t, he sighs. He waits another minute and then the radio turns to static signaling the end of their conversation.

“I know,” she says softly as she hears the static of the radio. “Be safe, please be safe.” She murmurs the bits of name that she has overheard them say. Going against her own rules of not saying their names even though she knows it’s half of what their names are. She’s gotten too attached and now… now she’s worried. Worried for men she’s never met and probably never will.

“One can dream,” she rolls her shoulders and bends to stretch. Her stomach growling as she knows it’s about time to eat. Pulling her backpack on the office desk and opening it. A couple cans of food and jerky from gas stations. 2 water bottles and a simple medkit along with an extra shirt and pants. “Okay… raviolis or beans….” Humming as sits and pops open the beans. “I’ll save the raviolis for a special day.”

She’s sat for too long on her ass now it’s time to get a move on. Can’t stay for too long in the same places. Always gotta keep moving to different places. Curse the anxiety that still makes her think that a zombie is around every corner. Guess that’s what she’s been alive for so long.

#simon ghost riley #johnny mactavish #john price #kyle gaz garrick #141 x reader #poly 141 #ZombieAU #The World We Knew #TWWK #If you go to my AO3 please read the tags #It’s a slow build to when the boys finally meet Reader #No physical descriptions of Reader or a name for Reader #Reader uses She/Her pronouns though #Reader is Texan cause I’m Texan and I haven’t been to most other places so I just set it up in Texas

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eepyuii · 5 months

Text

frostbite — pt. 3

pairing ; childe x gender neutral!reader

content ; childhood friends to “rivals” to lovers, slowburn-ish

cw ; mentions of blood, wounds, passing out from exhaustion and anxiety attacks (sort of)

note ; FUCK you mobile tumblr posting format, i HATE you >:[ also backstory chapter oOooOo…

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sometimes the memory of his disappearance flashes into your mind like the sunlight that creeps into the window at early dawn. blindingly.

on the rare afternoons that you weren’t with ajax, either at his house or outside playing, you were home with your mother. more often than not baking.

the warmth of the fireplace in the living room had already latched itself onto the other parts of the house, you’d have to thank your father for lighting it this morning before he left for work. speaking of your father, the very apple cake you were currently baking with your mother was his own request. almost instinctively peeling the apple skins, she blabbered on about how many baking recipes you’d need to know by heart if you were to ever even be a functioning adult, much less the safe and cozy housewife she hoped for.

you say blabbered because you truly were not paying any attention, much preferring to draw figures on the sheet of leftover flour that gracefully covered the surface of your countertop. that same flour coated your arms up to the shoulders- yet absurdly, your little hand-sown apron was left spotless.

though, that wasn’t nearly as absurd as the sight outside your window.

treading the snowy ground of the forest surrounding your house, just outside of it even, was ajax. he carried a small sack over his shoulder and his treasured wooden sword with him. he paid no mind to the fact that he was just walking past his best friend’s house, no- instead he looked straight ahead with a fire in his eyes you’d never seen before.

where on teyvat could he be going?

“hm? oh, look honey, isn’t that ajax right outside? were you two planning on playing together today?” your mother commented half-mindedly.

“not really, no…”

“then where on teyvat could he be going on his own?” ironic.

you couldn’t bring yourself to answer her at the time, too absorbed in the gnawing feeling in your gut that, other than the obvious strange scene before you, something wasn’t right. you needed to go after him. the speed in which you put on your boots and heavy jacket is almost inhuman and you didn’t even realize you were already out the door the next second until you received a full-front slap of cold air to your warm cheeks. by the time you were sprinting through the forest following ajax’s trail, he’s but a tiny spec of orange hair and red scarf in the distance. the stinging air of snezhnaya winter still fought against you, stabbing your skin and bringing tears to your eyes. or maybe you were just crying out of panic.

why would he be going so far deep into the forest? both of you had already gone past the outskirts that you were already familiar with. even at the age of fourteen, neither ajax nor you really ever dared to go out of morepesok without the presence of another family member.

and why was ajax carrying a sack and a sword? was he trying to hunt on his own? you doubt he would be that stupid, that wooden sword of his was merely a toy given to him by his father and was as dull as could be. and even worse- ajax, being non-confrontational by nature, barely knew how to use it.

and just why did he have that look in his face? like he had debts to settle, lands to conquer, beasts to fell. you’d been together just yesterday and he seemed fine, seemed happy.

what if… ajax was lying?

what if he was unsatisfied with what he had in morepesok- his parents, his siblings, you? what if he was leaving so determinedly because he yearned for more? and if so, why didn’t he at the very least tell you?

in the midst of you drowning in your worries, ajax’s silhouette of orange and red seemed to only get farther and farther.

“ajax! ajax- hah… wait for me! ajax!” you called out breathlessly.

and as if this entire situation couldn’t get any worse, the growls of what seemed like at the very least three wolves rang out from nearby. you froze for a moment, holding your breath when said wolves stalked ahead of you, towards ajax’s direction. apparently, he had also noticed the wolves and paused in his tracks, as there was no sound in the forest to be heard other than the pack’s footsteps in the snow.

the stream of hot tears on your cheeks grew in flow and your heart pumped in your chest so violently it nearly shook the rest of your body. eyes frantically scanned the area for anything you could do, anything you could use- until they landed on a fallen tree branch, sturdier and sharper than the other measly twigs that populated the ground. you almost latched onto it without thinking and tiptoed forward, to where you’d last spotted the wolves. the beasts, thankfully, seemed unaware of your presence, much more focused on the fresh lump of meat you called your best friend in front of them.

they approached him with slow, calculated steps and hungry snarls upon their faces while you painstakingly crossed the distance, murder rampant in your eyes. you raised a shaky arm, holding the branch and readying to launch as if it was hunting spear.

then suddenly, rustling is heard and the wolves are sprinting away with cowardly whines from where ajax, their lunch, presumably was.

but there was no ajax to be found.

the world felt like it stopped and started spinning even faster all at once. the adrenaline rush from the chase and the intense emotions you’d been feeling keeps you numb to the sight before you, or the lack thereof. where your best friend had been standing and shivering in fear of the wolves that were approaching him- was nothing.

the branch thudded on the ground, long forgotten, as you ran to where you’d last seen him. if it weren’t for the rustled snow, it would’ve looked like nothing happened, because both the trail of footprints and the mess ajax had made while freezing before the wolves ended abruptly, right then and there. despite the fact, you still looked around every inch of your surroundings, even the goddamn treetops, for just the smallest indication that he ran away safely.

next up, look through the snow- maybe he fell into a deeper settlement of snow and hid there until the wolves left. you dug and dug and dug, your arms quickly becoming frigid and your fingertips had lost feeling, yet you kept digging. nothing.

it’s like the earth had given way and swallowed him whole.

“AJAX! PLEASE!”

as a last resort, you yelled his name at the very top of your lungs, over and over and over, uncaring to the possibility of the pack or an even worse predator hearing you. your throat grew scratchy but you kept calling out to him until your vision started to grow woozy. the high tension, the exhaustion and the cold altogether became too much for your body to handle- causing you to promptly pass out right there in the middle of the forest.

you’d have to be eternally grateful to the tsaritsa for sending your father back from work just in time to look for you.

—

you would’ve said that was the worst day of your life- but then the next three came along.

ajax’s family scoured nearly every inch of the forests surrounding morepesok and for two days, no avail. you, unfortunately, were bedridden for the entirety of their search- partially to recover from your ministrations, that even ended up causing you first-degree frostbite at the fingertips, and partially because your parents firmly grounded you to the house for endangering yourself like that. throughout the hours of laying in bed and rewarming your hands, you remained numb- emotionless.

the shock from it still plagued your senses and the reports that he still hadn’t been found you received from your parents at the end of the day only fed the raving beast that was your hopelessness. your mother tried her darndest to cheer you up how she could- baking your favorite sweets, reading you your favorite books, ungrounding your old favorite toys. nothing worked.

until the afternoon of the third day.

your fingers had recovered amazingly, yet the rest of your limbs still felt too heavy to get out of bed. the lines of the book you were reading had started blending together, eyes growing tired and sleep creeping up on your body. as you were setting the book aside and snuggling yourself up to the heavy blankets covering you, ready to let the weariness overtake you, your door bursts open.

“he’s back! wake up, dear, they’ve found ajax!” your mother exclaimed, heaving as if she’d ran across the coast to give you the news.

any fatigue that contaminated your entire body evaporated in a second and you were jumping out of bed like a second wind had hit you. you felt like you were back where you were two days ago, running out the door like your life depended on it. you saw the people of the village flocking towards the town center as if magnetized by the commotion. there, the crowd was circling around something- whispers, exclamations of relief, expresses of thanks to the tsaritsa were about. you followed suit with the townspeople’s movement and wrestled your way to the epicenter of the crowd.

you couldn’t believe your eyes.

there stood your goddammned best friend, his back facing you- like it once had before he disappeared. his silhouette had burned itself into your retinas at that point. but his abrupt return wasn’t the only unbelievable thing about what was before you. behind ajax, from your perspective, was his family, facing him with terrified looks on their faces- like he’d grown a second head. their expressions soon received reasoning when you looked at ajax’s feet.

laid unconscious, was another boy from the village. you’d recognized him instantly, a year or so older than you and ajax and was famously known as morepesok’s roughhouser- consistently picking on ajax for his wimpiness throughout the years. not only older but he was objectively one of the stronger kids of the village, hence the bewilderment of seeing him toppled at the younger boy’s feet.

you at least recall the sight being strange overall, because at the time you couldn’t care less- your best friend was back. to you it seemed like the unconscious boy and the townspeople carrying him away from the scene weren’t there at all.

“ajax…” you started off, voice weak and shaky as fat tears gathered up in your eyes. despite the quietness, he still heard your call, finally turning to face you instead. you were already running to him as he did, tackling him into the most bone-crushing hug you could muster with your current strength. “y-you’re back!”

he doesn’t return the hug.

instead, you felt something sharp poke your throat harshly and pulled away with a hiss- giving way for ajax to fully point his wooden sword straight at you. confused, you first looked to the sword, the very same his father gave him and the very same he left with- except it was somehow razor sharp now instead of the dull, worn wood you were familiar with. it was so sharp, in fact, that even the slightest contact it made with the skin of your neck already left a paper thin cut that bled immediately.

gently pressing a finger to the cut, you gazed down to see concerningly big droplets of blood transferred to your digits. when you raised your head towards ajax again, look of utter confusion and betrayal painted onto your face, you were met with the most bone chilling, lifeless hard stare you’d ever seen come from him. he looked at you as if you were less than a dismissible lump that needed to get out of his way- he looked like he felt nothing, regretted nothing.

his cerulean eyes were stone cold dead.

everyone and their mother who were watching seemed to gasp all at once, moving in to separate the both of you, though your parents were faster. ajax’s father, who’d arrived just in time to see his son hurt you, harshly pulled the boy his arm, scolding him, while yours pulled you into their arms to check your wound. you could only keep your eyes straight ahead to where ajax was while he didn’t even try look back.

—

that was the last time you spoke to ajax.

well, speak is a strong word for the brick wall that was his reaction to your tears of relief and tackling hug. though you’d like to say it was because his father sent him away for fatui military training and not because he seemingly didn’t care for you even a smidgen. just like before he even returned, you turned to spend your days away in your room, head buried in books.

you can’t recall when those books stopped fairytales and became human biology encyclopedias. eventually, those encyclopedias turned into medical textbooks- a birthday gift from your father while he was on a trip to the big city. and eventually, those textbooks turned into shining grades and an entry to the most prestigious medical school in snezhnaya, fatui owned obviously. you would’ve been fine with just stopping there, finishing your degree and going back to morepesok to stay with your parents and maybe, just maybe, get a job as a fisherman- unfortunately, the tsaritsa had other plans for you.

not literally, of course, you’d be considered divinely fortunate if her grace were to ever even note your existence amongst the rest of her citizens. instead, it was one of her own little rotten soldiers and the bane of your existence, the doctor, who for some reason took interest in your capabilities over the others in your class. he demanded you be put through fatui training to be both an on-field and off-field medic just to end up working directly under his wing.

a part of you would forever resent him for this.

you never wanted to even come close to having any relation to the fatui, at first it was purely out of disdain for their ordeals but after ajax was also hand-plucked away by a harbinger, you would’ve rather plunge your chances of having a medical career than having to work with him in the organization you liked the least.

oh! and how could you forget…

the crowning jewel of your dissatisfaction, the literal jewel that was unwillingly set into your hands by the gods themselves.

the day you received your title of sergeant, a small, gelid object materialized into your palms. intricately sculpted steel molded over a round, glowing blue gem- cryo symbol shining inside the gem. you denied and denied and denied, unable to accept or even comprehend as to why someone like you would receive a vision from the reigning element of your own tsaritsa. any attempt to get rid of the damned thing proved futile, it seemed as if it were magnetized to your very being, and you entirely gave up in fighting it at some point. it certainly didn’t help how your possession of a vision, a cryo one at that, only seemed to make the higher ranks of the fatui want to entangle you into their web even more. you still managed to protest it by refusing to use its ice powers under any circumstances.

and now you were here. reminiscing over the misery of your lifetime instead of looking over the paperwork the northland bank had provided you. and the next part of childe’s plan was only days away from getting into motion.

a hollow feeling invades your stomach as you remember the plan ajax had explained to you yesterday.

you needed to gather your thoughts.

taglist ; @kentply @osaemu

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