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bigification · 1 month

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Giant

I drift away to sleep laying on the hot sand and bathing in the sunlight. I feel relaxed for a moment until I'm thrust into a nightmare. I find myself at my desk, wasting away for a job that I hate. The only reason I went on this vacation is to escape, but no matter what I do I end up back in the same place. This nightmare seems different to the rest, it's so loud. Usually all I can hear is keys tapping and clocks ticking, but now there is another noise. It's... screaming. It's getting louder and louder, the sound of people screaming.

I jolt awake. The screaming was coming from real life. I sit up and see dozens of people running away from the beach. What the hell is going on. Some part of me wants to just go back to sleep, but if this many people are running maybe I should too. I begin to grab some of my stuff and get up to leave, but I'm stopped by what feels like an earthquake. I turn to the shoreline and see a giant beast emerge from the water. It looks human, but unless my eyes deceive me, he must be at least 50 feet tall.

The beast approaches the beach, I know I should run but my body won't let me move. I also notice I'm the only one left on the beach, everyone else has run. He steps onto the beach, the closer he gets, the more I realize how massive he actually is. Soon he's standing right in front of me, and I have to look straight up just to see his face. He reaches down and grabs me, holding nearly my entire body in just one hand. I try to scream, but there's no use now, all my screams will be muffled in the beasts hand.

I can't see much, so I spend the next few minutes trashing about until I have no energy left. It doesn't seem to be making a difference anyway. After what feels like a couple of minutes, the beast stops moving. I get gently laid down on the floor, and get a chance to look around at the expansive room around me. It looks like a normal house, just massive. It makes me feel like a tiny ant. As I'm taking in the scenery, I bump into something soft. I turn to see a massive leg in front of me. My eyes drift upward to see a massive man standing in front of me, he must have been the height of the man that brought me here, just a lot fatter. I shield my eyes from the man's massive cock, and look past his round gut to see the man looking down at me.

"Watch where you're going pipsqueak!" The giant says in a deep voice. I lost my balance as his receding steps shook the ground below me.

"Don't mind him, he's always in a bad mood." The giant who brought me here kneeled down to talk to me.

"Does anyone wear clothes around here?" I ask in return.

"Were not savages, we try to if we can come across clothes large enough. I know this might seem frightening, but you and I are more similar than you think."

"Why did you even bring me here?" I say confused.

"Come, walk with me, I'll explain." He says as I start to follow him, though it takes me a few minutes to cover the ground he can in one step so he walks slow.

"My name is Yusef, by the way." The giant says.

"I'm Jack." I reply.

"A long time ago, a settlement of humans came across a forest while hunting. This forest contained food with mystical properties that provided the humans with far more energy than they needed. The humans obviously took advantage of this to prevent their people from starving. Over time, their bodies started to grow larger than that of normal humans due to the food. Eventually they became a whole new species called 'Giants'." Yusef monologues. "The only problem is that only the men of that settlement grew, the women remained normal humans. This meant that the Giants could not reproduce. So out of desperation, they would find other humans and turn them into giants to keep their species alive. We are what's left of those giants."

"So... You want to turn me into a giant?" I ask, still trying to process the entire story.

"Yes." He responds bluntly.

We both walk in silence for a moment as I process the situation.

"Ok, I want to be a giant." I say confidently.

"What? Humans usually aren't so eager." He questions.

"My life back home sucked, I have nothing , I have no one. At least here I'll have something."

He smiled before pointing to the room beside us. "This is the most recent giant before you, Antony." Yusef points to a man sleeping on the couch.

"He's been asleep for a while now. The last feast really took a toll on him." He states.

"Feast?" I ask.

"You need a lot of calories when your body is that big, so we fatten up the Giants as much as we can."

"Well what about you, you're not fat."

"I stay fit because I am the one who has to get new giants like you, I need to be a bit more nimble than the average giant. For the rest of us, it's better to keep a hefty store of energy. You should have seen Antony here when he was human. He was built like me, big shoulders and skinny waist, washboard abs. He's only been here three days and now look at him."

As he's talking, I look down at my own body. Now I'm no Yusef, but I've worked hard for my body. Maybe I could be like Yusef and stay skinny. As I'm thinking, I notice Antony's hand move. "Are you sure he's asleep, his hand is moving." I ask.

"Oh he's asleep, he's just getting used to having the sex drive of a giant." He responds.

I notice that his hand is moving back and forth over his dick. "That kinda sucks for a species that can't reproduce." I say.

"It's not so bad, we like to have fun with it." Yusef turns to another giant and winks at him. "Lookin good Pete!" He shouts at the giant. Pete looks back and smiles before going back to checking himself out in the mirror.

I fall silent again, coming to another realization. I didn't think about it before but, if there are only male giants, then who do they fuck. Well I just got my answer, they fuck eachother. What do I do if I'm not gay. I mean with the amount of men they turn into giants, there's no way I'm the first straight guy they get. Maybe they just get so bored that they fuck eachother because there's nothing else to do. It's no big deal, I could just not have sex, it's like I was having much sex back home either. Besides, I'm sure they still have porn here, I won't be completely out of luck.

"And we've made it." Yusef says as he stops and turns to me. "This is where you become a giant."

I look around the empty room. "Why this room?"

"It's empty because the transformation can be quite jarring, so it is safe to be in an empty room."

"Jarring?" I ask, concerned.

"Well we'll give you a concentrated version of the food from the mystical forest I mentioned earlier. It speeds up the transformation to happen in mere minutes rather than months. Not all parts of the body grow at the same pace."

Before I can even process, Yusef grabs me and shoves a large green pellet into my mouth. "Swallow." He states. I swallow it, trying to ignore the disgusting taste.

It doesn't take long for the food to take its effect, and it's not subtle. It starts with my arms. My biceps become massive, growing larger than my head. Next to transform was unfortunately my dick. The pressure in my pants builds until they burst open, leaving me naked. My dick quickly grows out of proportion with my body, growing to the point that it hits the ground. It is even thicker than my legs, making me look like I have a third leg.

"I told you it could be jarring." Yusef said with a slight smirk on his face.

"Don't fucking look." I yell out.

"Oh don't be so uptight, I'm just enjoying the show." He laughs.

I can feel myself growing tall as my perspective gets higher and higher. Soon I can feel my ass grow massive as my stomach grows into a muscle gut, making it hard to keep my balance. The next few minutes are completely insane as different parts of my body grow out of proportion. Soon enough, I see that my eyes are at about the same height as Yusefs, meaning the transformation must be over soon. I finally feel the transformation stop as I'm a few feet taller than Yusef. I'm completely naked, tired, and my body is covered in sweat.

"Here dry off." Yusef throws me a towel. "Oh, and I'm glad you're happy to see me." He winks at me before looking down at my crotch. I look down and see that my dick is fully hard, sticking straight out. I jump and cover my crotch, he just chuckles and walks away.

I dry up and walk out of the room where I find a pair of cargo pants. I slip them on and they fit surprisingly well, I try my best to tuck my boner into the waist of the shorts, but it's not doing much to hide it. I walk around, getting used to the way my body moves. It's much harder to move at the same pace I did before, everything is so heavy that it takes more effort to start and stop moving. And it feels like the air is holding me back, almost like walking in water.

I make my way to the balcony and sit down. The view is quite beautiful from here. In one direction there is a lush swamp and the other is a forest. It's weird that the trees look so small, the tallest ones look like they would barely reach my waist. As I'm enjoying the view, Yusef approaches me. As he's talking to me, it's going in one ear and going right out the other.

"My eyes are up here buddy." He says, snapping me back to reality where I notice I was staring at his chest. I look up and make eye contact with him.

"Have this." He hands me what looks like a phone. "It's a smart tv. Jerry's quite good with electronics and whipped up some phones made from old smart TV's."

"Thanks." I say as I hold the tiny tv in my hand.

"It can do basically anything a phone can other than texting, but we use WhatsApp anyway." He says before turning and walking away. I catch myself staring at him as he walks away, but quickly turn my focus to my new phone. It feels just like a phone, with a touch screen and everything. It has a few apps installed, including twitter and it gives me an idea. I log into my account and scroll through the porn I had saved on it. I scroll and scroll, but I feel nothing. Not until I get to a clip I had saved from pornhub. That got me going. My legs tensed and my dick pulsed. Within seconds I shot my load into my new cargo shorts. As I continue to watch, I notice something. I haven't looked at the woman in this clip once, I have been fixed on the man the entire time. But I've never been gay. I scroll through the many videos and images of women on my twitter and I still feel nothing. Out of curiosity I decide to search for pictures of men. Who's a guy everyone seems to like, oh Chris Evans. I search him up and go to photos. Oh my god. My stomach sinks and my dick rises the instant I look at the photo. What happened to me? I look at all the half naked Giants that walk past the balcony, and it confirms the way I feel. Even weirder is my fixation on their fat. I can't stop staring at their guts and they man tits, or their asses as they walk by. Suddenly the thought of growing like the rest of the Giants doesn't seem so bad.

"You okay?" I'm interrupted by Yusef.

"Ya I'm fine." I try to cover the stain in my shorts.

"Well that didn't take you long." He chuckles, "There is someone you need to meet.

"Oh ya sure." I say while paying no attention to what he is saying. The pecs on that man are unreal, how does a man get pecs that large.

I follow Yusef to what looks like the kitchen and he sits me down. "This is Saul." Yusef says as a man in a bathrobe approaches me. He leans over the table in front of me and gets a closer look at me. He looks older, with salt and pepper hair and wrinkled skin. His robe is loosely tied, letting his hairy gut spill out and allowing me to see his soft chest.

"You always bring me the skinniest ones." Saul says. His eyes drift up and down my body as he pokes and grabs me. "I know exactly what you could use." He says as he walks into the pantry.

"What is he doing." I ask Yusef.

"He's our cook. Just eat whatever he gives you, he has been cooking for us for hundreds of years, so he knows what he's doing." He responds.

"Hundreds of years!?" I yell out in shock.

"Oh ya, I forgot to mention that. We live for centuries, and the food he gives you is essential to that."

Saul comes back with a full platter of food and places it in front of me. "Eat." He tells me as he stands there and watches. I think back to when I was sitting on the balcony, watching all of the fatass giants walking by. I want that. I started stuffing my mouth with all the food on the platter he gave me. His food tasted amazing. You'd think I was starving with the way I was ravaging this food. Before I knew it, the platter was empty. I lean back and pat my bloated stomach with one hand and rub my crotch with the other.

"I like this one." Saul says before running off to the pantry again.

"That was so good." I turn to Yusef.

"Good, there's a lot more to come. You may think you're full, but you can fit a lot more food in you than you think." He responds.

Rounds and rounds of food go by, and I just keep going. I don't even know how long it's been, I just keep eating. I eventually lean back in my chair, defeated. My eyes start to close as I fall asleep.

"He's eaten the most out of any giant I have even seen." I hear Saul say as I'm passing out

"You think he's gonna be bigger than Grant?" Yusef responds.

"Much bigger." Is the last thing I hear before passing out.

- Many days later -

"This is the giant before you." Yusef says.

"Am I gonna be that fat." I hear from an unfamiliar voice.

"No he's the biggest we've ever seen."

I slowly open my eyes and try to lean up, but I feel like I'm being held down. I look down and see a massive mound of fat. Wait, that's me, that's my stomach. I reach out my hands and see the fat sagging in my arms. I cup my pecs in my thick hands, though I'm not sure you could call them pecs anymore. They're so fat that they sag onto my stomach. Speaking of my stomach, I grab it, sending ripples through my body. I can feel it spilling out onto my legs.

"Jack, you're finally awake." Yusef says. "This is our soon to be giant."

I sit up as far as I can and look down at the tiny human. I can't help but wonder what I look like from his perspective.

Once they leave, Antony approaches me.

"Damn you got fat." I say to him. Since the last time I saw him sleeping on the couch, he's gained a ton of weight. His modest belly turned into a full blown beer gut and his pecs are now soft man tits like mine.

"Coming from you fatass." He laughs at me. "You're the biggest slab of meat we've ever seen."

He continues to approach me, and I can see his bulge grow in his tight ass jeans.

"All the Giants here are so boring, they never want to fuck. But I know you feel different, don't you." He sits on my lap, spreading his legs around mine and resting our guts against each other. "Think about what we looked like just a week ago. Strong, with big biceps and washboard abs, now look what they've done to us." He almost moans while saying it. "Isn't it so hot." He pushes me into my back, making me feel the full weight of my own body pinning me down. He starts kissing my chest, sucking on my new fat. He kisses down my hulking gut, leaving a trail of hickies. He lifts up my belly and sticks his head underneath, he pushes my fat pad and wraps his lips around my dick. I let out a loud moan, slightly embarrassed when I realize everyone in the house could hear that. It doesn't matter, I turn my attention back to Antony. My knees buckle from the pleasure as I hold his head against my crotch. I let out another loud moan as I pump my load into his mouth. He looks up at me, "my turn." He says with his mouth dripping with cum. He spreads my legs and sticks his dick inside me. My body almost repels at the feeling, but I quickly accept it. I never thought something up my ass could feel so good. He starts to speed up, becoming more and more aggressive. I can see the ripples run through the fat in our bodies and I can hear the couch groan under our combined weight. It doesn't take long for a warm feeling to fill my insides. Antony lets out a satisfied sigh as he sits back onto the couch.

"You know I was kinda scared about this whole 'becoming a giant' thing, but now I'm a lot more excited." He says as he rests his hand on his gut. "You know being a fat ass is a lot better than I thought it would be."

I chuckle, "ya it ain't so bad is it." I lay back on the couch and relax, having no worries to stress me out.

#male tf #male transformation #masculine #fat tf #reality change #male wg #hairy

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theteasetwrites · 2 years

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Go Get Him | Part 1

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader ❧ Era: Season 10 ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: SMUT—fingering, face riding, oral (female receiving), submissive!Daryl, virgin!Daryl, grinding, edging, overstimulation, unprotected sex, swearing ❧ Word Count: 12.5k (oh they keep getting longer, don't they?)

❧ Requested by anonymous (this request)

❧ Summary: You've known Daryl for a long time, and you've flirted with him for a long time, too. Today's the day you finally take things to the next level and show him just how much you want him.

❧ A/N: Sub!Daryl, anyone?! God, I love shy, nervous, sweet baby Daryl. This version of Daryl is a little different from anything I've written so far, since I usually write Daryl as being a little more dominant/experienced than he is here, but I really like writing submissive/virgin Daryl, too!

“God, I want to do sinful things to that man.”

Rosita scoffed at your sudden declaration, turning her head to follow your gaze, which was glued onto the man in question as shaggy brown hair hung over his face, his greasy hands tinkering with the mechanics of his motorcycle. You hadn’t the first idea about motorcycles, but for him? You’d read every manual you could get your hands on just to show him how much you wanted him. Everyone already knew, though, except him.

“Do you think he likes to be on top or on the bottom?” you asked, your eyes not leaving his body as you undressed him with your mind. You took a casual sip of the homemade horchata Rosita had served you. “I’d love to hear his moans.”

“You’re such a whore,” laughed Rosita. “And you tease him, you know.”

“I know,” you replied with a devious smirk. “He likes it, he’s just too shy to say anything. I told you, I caught him staring at my tits.”

“That’s because you were bending over, and you purposely had on a low-cut dress, dumbass.”

You gently kicked her shin under the dining room table. “That’s not the point. He looked.”

She shook her head. “How long have you been flirting with him, anyway?”

You shrugged, smiling to yourself as you swirled the cinnamon stick in languid circles around the glass of that sweet rice drink. “Oh, six, seven years maybe? After things settled down with the Saviors.”

For most of that time, Daryl had been living on his own, out in the woods searching for Rick’s remains. Still, when he came to town every once in a while, it was your opportunity to engage him in conversation, to see how much you could pry open that stubborn shell and get him to smile just a little at your cheesy quips.

You learned a lot about him just from that, from the days spent hovering over his shoulder as you watched him gut a squirrel or ready his crossbow.

Maybe you had never really gotten anywhere with your occasionally rather obvious flirting, but you had a friend in Daryl. He’d dropped his guard as much as he could, and after a while of purposely brushing up against him, or “accidentally” touching his hand, he seemed to not stiffen at your touch as much as he once had, and the more you learned about him, the more you liked him, and the more attractive, nearly irresistible, he became to you.

When he finally returned to the fold a year ago, around the time the Whisperers began to cause problems, you didn’t hesitate to make him feel comfortable, to use your bubbly, extroverted personality to ease his mind when his introverted, cerebral psyche became too much for him to handle.

So it was more than just flirting or lustful teasing—you really did care for him, and something told you that he cared for you, too, but his shyness kept him from acting on his feelings.

Maybe Rosita was right. Maybe now was the time to really let Daryl know exactly how you felt. No teasing, no flirting, just the truth.

Well, you probably couldn’t really help yourself. You had to flirt with him, too.

“You’re just teasing yourself at this point, mami. You want him so go get him.”

It was tempting, more now than ever.

He was right there, not about to go on another mission, not about to come up with a stuttering excuse for him to do something “important” instead of spending the night with you, as you’d occasionally joke about to his face.

Still, he never outright rejected you. If he had, you’d have stopped in your tracks, not wanting to harass him, but he toyed with you in his own way, too. It was more subtle than your liking, and perhaps even accidental at times, but it was sweet, his own brand of flirting that was clumsy and unrefined, as if he were holding something back and stepping on eggshells. You surmised he was terrified of rejection himself, even though it was pretty clear that you wanted him.

“For real this time?” you asked. “I mean, should I go all out?”

“Depends,” said Rosita, leaning back in her squeaky wooden chair and folding her hands behind her head. “What do you mean by ‘all out’?”

“Hm…” You leaned forward, folding your arm on the table to lean your chin upon your hand as you watched Daryl wipe his hands of that filthy grease. He wiped the back of his hand across his forehead to remove the accumulated sweat, but he only smeared it, creating an adorable streak of black. “Well, I have to get him alone. I don’t want to embarrass him in front of everyone… But I want to touch him. Just a little more than usual… Maybe I’ll wear that low-cut dress again.”

“No panties,” suggested Rosita. “That’ll get him riled up, I bet.”

“Oh, you’re a genius! But how am I gonna get him alone? He’s always busy.”

“He’s not busy right now,” replied Rosita with a smirk. “He’s just working on that stupid bike like he always is. Why don’t you go get that dress on and let your body do the talking?”

Not ten minutes later, you came sauntering across the street (sans panties), adorned in that contradiction of a dress.

It was at once seductive and innocent, with the motif of pale yellow buttercups blooming across a cream fabric, high empire waist and low-cut v neck wrapped bodice perfectly accentuating your chest, which Daryl seemed to like. The material was soft to the touch, a crinkled polyester with a bias cut that hugged your curves and reached your knees.

You didn’t know what to do with your hair, besides pinning it in a loose bun that lifted it from your hot neck while wispy strands framed your face and blew gently with the late spring breeze.

Strategically, you wore one of the pairs of earrings he’d brought back for you on one of his visits to Alexandria a few years ago. He had a habit of doing that, collecting trinkets and jewelry that made him think of you. The ones you had on now were your favorite—dangling blush pink jewels in a cluster that trickled down to a singular diamond in the shape of a heart. You hoped he’d notice that you were wearing them, but something told you he would. He always noticed things like that, even if he didn’t tell you. You could almost read him like a book at this point.

“Hi there, handyman.”

His hooded blue eyes peered over the seat of his bike to acknowledge you. Though he’d felt your presence getting closer, and even caught a sweet whiff of that sultry perfume you always wore, he’d tried not to let himself get distracted again, even if he was rather fond of being distracted by you.

“Hey,” he replied, that one syllable word already having an effect on you. His voice was at once smooth and silken as rich maple syrup, and yet with a flavor more like salted caramel. In any case, he sounded so sweet, sweet enough to rot your teeth. “Need somethin’?”

“You,” you said bluntly. As always, he shared with you that look, an initial look of serious consideration, peppered with sexual tension, and seasoned with a just pinch of disbelief. Then, as always, he scoffed.

“Pfft.” He shook his head, returning his focused gaze to his work, though you noticed he looked a little less focused than before. “Yeah, sure. What’s up, buttercup?”

He nudged his head to your body, correctly identifying the full yellow flowers painted on the fabric of your dress. He was the kind of man to know flowers and plants, to recognize them easily. Years of surviving in the wilderness would do that to you, but he was also observant, obsessed with details, especially yours.

“You like it?” you asked, sliding your hands down your own curves.

Raising his eyes to look at you once again, he bit his lip in thought, trying to look at you without imagining what you looked like underneath the dress in question.

“Mhm,” he hummed. “Seen it before. Yellow suits ya.”

“Thanks… So, what are you working on?”

You planted yourself next to him, folding your arms as you watched him spin some kind of wrench around to tighten one of the bolts.

He dusted his knees as he stood to his feet, then removed his black rag from its place on the seat to wipe his hands once again.

“Jus’ maintenance, makin’ sure everything’s dialed in, tuned up, ready to go. Ain’t got much else to do.”

“Well,” you sighed, “now I’m here. That’s something else to do.” You side-stepped closer, brushing your shoulder against his. He didn’t seem to flinch at that, so your other hand crossed over to lightly trace up and down his arm, clothed in a long sleeve black button-up shirt.

He swallowed hard, unsure of what to say for a moment as your hand playfully tickled his sleeve. He’d only wished he’d been wearing a sleeveless shirt that day, just to feel your fingers on his bare flesh.

His feelings for you consumed him on a day-to-day basis, and though he knew you flirted with him, as you were doing now, he could never tell if you were serious, or if this was how you were with every man. Granted, most of your other friends were women, so he couldn’t really know for sure. All he knew was that many nights he’d woken up from dreams about you in a cold sweat, soaked in his own arousal, and with a tent pitched under his sheets.

He knew he loved you, he always did. It took him a while to admit it to himself, how much he cared for you, but old habits die hard, and he had a habit of suppressing his emotions, especially the kind that could get him hurt. Besides, why would you want to be with a guy like him, anyway? When he wasn’t out killing walkers or dealing with Whisperers, he was in his basement whittling arrows, or talking a little too much to his dog. He was shy, quiet, standoffish, even. Surely someone so gregarious and sociable as you would want nothing to do with him, right? Well, that’s where you confused him, in the best way possible.

Still, you brought something out in him, and whenever he was with you, he felt like he could let his guard down just enough to keep up with your quips, your teasing flirts, your contagious giggles. Being around you made him feel like a teenager again. Or, at least, how most people were as teenagers.

Daryl never had feelings like this before, not once. Sexual feelings hadn’t been apart of his life one bit until he realized he loved you. When people spoke of their relationships, of their sex lives, his brain went blank. They might as well have been speaking another language, and he might as well have been deaf.

All he knew of sex was how you made him feel, and when you touched him like you did, like you’d done so many times before, he found himself somewhere between terrified and euphoric.

“Pfft,” he scoffed with a nervous smirk, elbowing you playfully. “Ain’t ya got anythin’ better to do than talkin’ to an old man?”

You rolled your eyes, then looked around as you turned dramatically. “Gee, I don’t see any old men around here. All I see is a very handsome, sweet, strong—” You cut yourself off, noticing the blush blossoming on his cheeks. “Sorry,” you giggled. “So, you’re not busy right now, are you?”

Your voice was sultry and deep, deeper and more rich than usual. Even when you flirted with him more intensely, he’d never heard such a sweet sound.

His feet shuffled as he scratched his neck, his shoulder-length hair draped over his wrist. You’d always wanted desperately to get your own hands tangled up in that hair of his.

“Uh, guess not,” he said. “Why?”

Shit, you thought. I haven’t thought this far.

“Well, um…” You rocked your hips back and forth as you thought, unintentionally drawing his eyes to your midsection, a place on your body he’d thought about more than he’d care to admit.

An idea occurred to you then—Daryl was good with his hands, and surely he’d be able to help out around your house. Maybe he was good at plumbing. You could make up an excuse for him to come to your house, to “fix” something…

“My bathtub,” you said abruptly. “I—I mean, it’s all… clogged up. The water—it pools around my feet when I’m showering. I was wondering if you knew anything about plumbing? Maybe you could�� snake my drain?”

Perfect, a nice sexual innuendo.

His eyes seemed to widen for a moment as he processed your words, and the bite in your lip and the sway of your hips didn’t go unnoticed. Still, however, he couldn’t comprehend this being anything other than a friendly interaction. At least, he didn’t want to assume you meant anything else.

“I, uh…” He cleared his throat and scratched his head, avoiding eye contact as much as he could. If he looked into those intense, beautiful eyes of yours now, he was sure he’d get down on his knees and worship at your feet. “Well, what’s in it for me?”

You cracked a smile and a raised eyebrow at that. Sometimes you couldn’t tell if his light flirting was intentional, or just a byproduct of his cluelessness. Either way, it was adorable.

“Hm, maybe a kiss on the cheek?” you teased. “Or anywhere else you want a kiss…”

He scoffed and shook his head, stepping backwards and nearly tripping over his foot until he caught himself, eliciting an amused smirk from your lips. There was nothing more adorable than how he reacted to your flirting, and how nervous he could get.

“What about some peach pie?” he rasped, his voice seeming to break a little.

Oh, your famous peach pie. The only other thing he dreamed about besides you was your pie, made with fresh, plump peaches plucked from the tree outside your house. You’d first made it for him as a thank you for the first necklace he brought back for you, and from that point on, he always asked you for more.

“Peach pie, huh? Well, you know what, I just happen to already have a slice of peach pie with your name on it.”

That was a lie. So was the drain. You hated lying to him, but you figured it was for a good cause, and you hoped he’d appreciate what you had in mind once you got him alone in your house. Peach pie or not, at least you managed to employ the use of yet another sexual euphemism to hint at your intentions.

“Come on,” you said, tugging lightly on his hand. He didn’t jerk it away, he never did. His hand interlaced with yours felt too much like two matching puzzle pieces finally fitting together for him to pull away. He felt safe cradled in your touch, secure. As nervous as he could be around you, it was simply because he was terrified of saying the wrong thing, of embarrassing himself in front of you, even if he knew you could never be embarrassed of him.

“You’ve been spending too much time with that bike,” you said. “I’m starting to get jealous.”

He scoffed, feeling your hand tighten around his the closer you got to your house. He blushed as a few passersby eyed the two of you, their eyebrows raising in curiosity at the display. Surely they’d gossip about it behind his back, saying he was screwing you. No matter how much he sort of liked the idea of everyone thinking you were his, he tugged his hand from your grasp, wiping the sweat that had accumulated from his anxiety onto his jeans.

“That ole bike ain’t got nothin’ on you, buttercup,” he said, nearly tripping up the steps to your townhouse as you began fiddling with your keys to unlock the front door. “So, you got the stuff to snake the drain?”

You swallowed hard as you turned the key in the lock. “Mhm,” you lied, but you were so close to getting him inside where you could make your first serious attempt to seduce him. If you needed to lie once more to get him inside, you would. Besides, they were only little white lies. “Got everything you need in the house. I’m just not very good with that kind of stuff… Maybe I need a man around the house, one that’s good with his hands.”

Your voice had a suggestive lilt to it, and Daryl couldn’t help but imagine how nice it would be to be that man, to use those deft hands of his to pleasure you and touch you wherever you wanted him to. Maybe you imagined some man other than him, though, and the thought of any other man inside your house, doing his job, infuriated him slightly.

“Pfft,” he scoffed, stepping over the threshold as you held the door for him. “Don’t need a man to fix shit. I can show you how.”

“But then who’s gonna make you peach pie while you snake my drain, huh?”

You watched him remove his muddy boots, as was policy in your house so as not to track dirt through the place, but all you could think of was how you were one step closer to getting the man’s clothes off.

“Whatever you say… So where do you keep the drain snake?”

Shit.

Closing the door, you turned to face him, your eyes fluttering sweetly as you prepared to tell him that it was all just a ploy to get him in your house. Oh, but his face was so sweet in all its innocence, his eyes genuine as they glimmered in desire to help you. He was such a good man, always was. That made him immensely more attractive to you. He was gorgeous, too, with that beautiful bone structure and those strong, broad shoulders of his, but none of it meant anything to you if he wasn’t also a good person, and Daryl was perhaps the best person you’d ever met.

Not once had he taken advantage of you and your kindness towards him, even if perhaps you wished he’d take advantage of it. You were long past the point of wondering whether or not you loved him. You knew you loved him, that you’d let him do just about anything he wanted to do to you. Now you had him alone, you could make that abundantly clear to him.

“Why don’t we sit down for a bit?” you asked. “You want some water? I’ll get you a glass of water. Sit on the couch, I’ll be right back.”

He already knew he couldn’t be alone in private with you for long without feeling a near irresistible urge, an urge he was scared to realize. Today was worse than usual—you were in that dress again. You were wearing those earrings he’d gotten for you, and it was no accident that their diamonds were in the shape of a heart. It was his subtle way of showing his love for you, but the words just never materialized—vapor dissipating into thin air.

Most of all, you were sweet, delicate with each flourish of your hand as you lovingly poured him a glass of water in the kitchen across from the living room. Even such a simple gesture from you seemed so genuine and kind. No, no, he thought. She’s like this with everyone. She must be.

“Here you go,” you said with a smile, leaning down to hand him his glass. He eyed the thin lemon wedge perched on the side of the glass, and the slices of fresh cucumber floating in the clear liquid.

“Fancy water,” he said. “You didn’t have to do that for me.”

“Mm, yes I did, Daryl.” You sat closer to him than usual, and you always sat close to him, much closer to him than anyone else sat. “You deserve nice things.”

The feeling of your hand massaging his shoulder did not escape him. In fact, he nearly choked on his water when you squeezed his muscular frame, trying to knead out the knots by his neck.

Still, he wasn’t uncomfortable, just nervous, and slightly confused by your gesture. It was more than you’d ever done before, but it felt good. Oh, did it feel good. Somehow, it gave him just a little spark of confidence, just enough to turn his thoughts into words: “Are you a nice thing?” he asked, surprising himself with the flirtatious lilt of his voice.

Your soft giggle drove him wild, its cadence somewhere between girlish innocence and erotic amusement.

“Well, that depends on who you ask… Do you think I’m a nice thing?”

His shyness washed over him again, causing him to nod shakily as he cleared his throat, his eyes drifting down to look at the translucent seeds of the cucumbers floating in his water.

“Y-yeah,” he stuttered.

“Well, then I guess you deserve me…”

His heart fluttered along with every bat of your eyelashes, and with every whiff of that intoxicating perfume of yours, he knew he was done for, in one way or another. He wasn’t going to get out of this alive.

You saw him shift his shoulders as he looked back up at you, his eyes darting around your face in panicked circles. You offered him a small smile, laced with equal parts adoration and flirtation. In a flash, he shifted his eyes downward again, causing you to lean forward and tilt your head at the sudden return of his shyness. Still, you could tell that the man who could idly flirt back with you was in there, he was just nervous, maybe a little scared.

“Daryl,” you giggled under your breath. “All this time I’ve been flirting with you, you know that, right?”

He scoffed, the dismissive sound of which worried you for a moment. Maybe he never really had been subtly returning your flirtations, maybe he was just entertaining you. If so, you were sure that you, too, would soon be overcome with shyness and embarrassment.

It didn’t matter, though, because if you didn’t do something to make it extremely clear what you wanted, you were sure you’d be running around in circles with this man for the rest of your lives. You had to make a move, a bold one. Daryl seemed to respond better to actions than words, as you were almost sure if you straight up said, “I love you,” he still wouldn’t know what to say.

Go get him, you heard Rosita’s voice echo inside your head.

You’d kissed his cheeks before, and every time you had, he apparently must’ve seen that as a friendly gesture, so you were determined not to do that again.

With your hand delicately, yet firmly, grasping his chin, you pulled him closer, eyeing him steadily to silently keep his attention on you. “Tell me if you don’t want this,” you whispered, and slowly closed the gap, pressing your lips lightly against his.

His body and brain went numb, practically dead to the world. He couldn’t even comprehend what was happening, even if it was technically something he’d imagined many times before. Your lips barely touched his, but they were so soft, so warm and pillowy. Better than any pillow he’d ever had in his life. He couldn’t escape the feeling of wanting more, of wanting to wrap his arms around you and kiss you the way you deserved, but he couldn’t. He didn’t know the first thing about kissing, or pleasing a woman, as far as he was concerned. He knew nothing, except from silly childhood “girlfriends” he pecked lips with, and even that was reluctant. For a long time he wondered if he could love anyone, have feelings, sexual or otherwise, for anyone. You changed everything. He touched himself for the first time in several years the day he met you. He didn’t know it then, but you had awakened that in him.

You didn’t move for a while, trying to gauge his feelings, but it was hard to tell, as he sat frozen, eyes wide and lips trembling against yours. “Daryl,” you sighed, pulling away to make sure he wanted this. “I need you to communicate with me… Do you want to kiss me?”

Hell of a lot more than that, he thought.

“Yeah,” he mumbled softly. “Jus’… Ain’t a very good kisser, that’s all.”

You rolled your eyes and smiled, encouraging him to smile just a little too, though his was much more crooked, almost boyish in his innocence.

He shivered a little when your arms wrapped around his neck, your glass of water having been surrendered to the coffee table at some point. He watched you fold your legs under your body, and a glimmer in your eye hinted at mischief as you remembered you weren’t wearing any panties. You could feel the back of your shins grazing your bare lower lips as they peeked out between your thighs, unbeknownst to the painfully bashful man before you. It invoked sinful thoughts within you, as you wondered just what it would feel like for his large, strong hand to slip under your dress and feel your most intimate area.

“Well, that wasn’t a real kiss,” you said. “Can I give you a real one?”

He swallowed hard, eyes trailing down to your lips as you licked them, leaving behind a glossy sheen, like dew on the pink petals of a peony. There wasn’t any doubt in his mind that he wanted you, even if he couldn’t quite believe you wanted him. It still seemed so surreal, like some kind of fever dream made too vivid from the cold sweat drenching his aching body in his sleep. Every cell was on fire, every square inch of skin begged to be touched by you. His lips seemed to sting with need as he wanted nothing more than to feel your mouth on his.

“Yeah,” was all he could muster, but it was enough to indicate that he wanted more, even if he was too shy to say something more eloquent. He never really had a way with words, but at least you did.

Your lips parted before meeting his, eager to show him exactly what kind of kiss you had in mind. Your arms coiled tighter around his neck to bring him closer, until the tips of your noses met. He always had such a cute nose—a short, slightly sloped button with a soft, fleshy tip. Just being this close to him, so close to meeting his lips with yours, was enough to elicit a giggle under your breath, one that alerted his attention to yours eyes instead of your lips.

“What’re you laughin’ at?” he asked, his own voice beginning to crack with a few chortles.

“Your nose is so cute,” you laughed. His eyes followed yours as they darted all over his face, admiring every sunspot and freckle and blemish and crease and wrinkle and—Well, you couldn’t stop yourself. He was so beautiful to you. Your thumb brushed against his jaw as his own hand moved cautiously to rest on your knee, though not without nearly immediately pulling it away.

“You can touch me,” you whispered against his lips. “Please touch me.”

Your more confident hand took a hold of his to rest it once again on your knee. If you didn’t know any better, you could’ve sworn you felt him squeeze it, but maybe it was just a nervous reaction.

The featherlight feeling of your lips slotting around his was deeper than before, with each crease melding perfectly into one another. It was slow for you, slower than tectonic plates, but you knew an earthquake was well on the way, as you couldn’t stand to be interlocked with him without shaking the fault lines. You needed to move, to go deeper, to plunge your tongue between his trembling lips.

First, you got a tighter grip on him, your hands pulling him closer by his shoulders until he simply had to part his lips for you. Hot breath seeped in through the cracks, alerting your tongue to the breach. With almost a mind of its own, it darted teasingly into his mouth as your lips massaged his.

Soon his hand gripped tight to only the crinkled polyester fabric of your dress his fist balled up and curling around the material as he concentrated hard on savoring the moment, not overthinking. Even in your embrace, he wondered if you knew what you were doing, if you were only kissing him out of some kind of pity. Maybe you would regret this. Surely, you’d regret this. Well, that’s what he thought, but you were too busy trying to rouse his tongue with yours.

His kiss was awkward, and a bit stiff, even if it was quite obvious he was trying to match the fluid, expert movements of your intoxicating mouth. His tongue couldn’t quite keep up with yours, and his lips only moved to gasp for air, or to try taking the lead when he seemed not to know exactly what to do.

At least your hand in his hair seemed to rile him up, his deep grunt of appreciation reverberating in your mouth as your fingers weaved through those messy brown locks like yarn. It sent a jolt through him, turning him briefly into a live wire as he moved his head in sloppy, wild motions, trying to get his lips to loosen and match your movements, though he really just hit your nose with his, back and forth, until you were giggling into his mouth.

“Whoa, slow down there, stud,” you teased, your lips moving to his cheek to kiss him there, all while your hand tucked under his hair to stroke his neck. It only made the hairs on it rise even more, and something else began to rise in his pants, too. “As much as I love your nose, I think it’s getting in the way.”

He swallowed hard, suddenly turning red at the realization that he’d never kissed anyone before. Nearly fifty years old, he thought, and never kissed a woman before… Yeah, real stud.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I ain’t, uh… I ain’t done that in a long time.” A long time as in never.

“Me neither,” you said. “I liked it… Did you like it?”

With your hand cupping his cheek again, and your lips pressing lightly against the other, he couldn’t dream of any alternative universe in which he didn’t like that kiss. That was everything he’d wanted for almost seven years. Of course, he wanted so much more, but that kiss? That was the start of it all, the foundation for a whirlwind he was hoping to get swept up in.

“I loved it,” he said, a little more enthusiasticly than he’d hoped. He wanted desperately to play it cool, to act like it wasn’t a big deal, but it was. Oh, it was everything to him. If he could stay this close to you for the rest of his life, he’d do it in a heartbeat. “You, uh… always wanted to do that?”

Oh, you sweet, silly man, you thought. Getting lost in those deep, grey-blue eyes of his was the best part of looking at him, so that’s what you did, shaking your head as you wondered if he knew just how much of an effect he had on you. Even from just once sloppy, haphazard kiss, you were getting those familiar tingles in your core, the ones that told you there was something particularly arousing in your midst.

“I thought that was obvious. I think about you all the time, Daryl… I want to kiss you all the time. I love being with you.”

Even he couldn’t comprehend how long he’d wanted to hear you say that. He couldn’t stay silent, even if he just wanted to bask in the afterglow of your sweet words, the ones that tickled his ears and caused a stupidly wide smile to split his face in half. You’d never seen him smile that wide before. In fact, you’d seen it only in your imagination, but real life blew that hazy daydream out of the water.

“I, uh… I love bein’ with you, too. I wanna kiss you, too. All the time.”

A swell of short-lived pride filled his chest, but it deflated quickly as he remembered how inexperienced he was, how he surely couldn’t please you the way you wanted, and judging by the way your hand was guiding his back to your leg, you wanted him to please you.

The fabric of your dress crept up your bare thigh as you gently guided his hand, which had seemed to almost be numb as he let you take it where you wanted.

His eyes couldn’t help but look down, watching as the skirt of your dress slowly lifted with each inch his hand moved with yours. You stopped before his hand lifted your dress to reveal your nakedness, but you did lean forward to whisper in his ear, “I’m not wearing any panties.”

How you had always wanted to say that to a man. In the movies, that always seemed to rile them up, so you were sure it would get him flustered, too. Well, you hoped, anyway.

Your chest pressed tight up against his, and you could just feel his heart beating so fast and strong, and so much warmth emanating from him. It felt like getting too close to a fireplace, with that overwhelming heat igniting your cheeks. It was a good feeling, though, a comforting hearth that felt like home. Nothing could possibly be more attractive.

“Maybe it’s a good thing, though,” your voice spoke huskily into his ear. “Whenever I’m around you, my underwear always ends up getting soaked. Better to just get rid of them, huh?”

He had no idea when you maneuvered yourself to sit atop his lap, legs straddling his waist and your bare core rubbing up against his jeans, but it became clear to him when your next kiss awoke him from whatever trance you’d put him in.

As your tongue desperately wriggled into his mouth again, begging for his sloppy kiss, he groaned against your mouth and grasped your waist with his hands, pulling your lips away with a small whimper from you.

Shit, you thought. He doesn’t want this… He doesn’t want me. I’m a dumbass.

“Daryl,” you said, slightly panicking as you feared you and your forwardness had blown any chance you had with him, “I… I’m sorry. I thought—”

“It’s not you,” he said. “It’s, uh…”

“Oh, I’ve heard that one before,” you sighed. “It’s not you, it’s me, right?”

Shit, he thought. I’m a dumbass.

“Nah. I mean, uh… Yeah, it’s me.”

“You don’t want this?”

His hands tightened around your waist in a slight panic, as if terrified you’d get up and leave without hearing his explanation. Well, maybe it would have been better if you didn’t hear his explanation: he was a virgin.

He’d just never met anyone he felt this way about, and sex had never been a priority. He wasn’t completely unaware, though. He knew what sex was, he’d seen porn before, mostly Merle’s overdue video tapes he rented from the local adult film shop back in Georgia, but that wasn’t real sex, of course. Even he knew that.

“N-no,” he said, and immediately shook his head to contradict himself. “Shit, I mean, yes. I want this. I want… I want you.”

Your eyes turned soft as your lip quivered into a sweet, relieved smile. He let out his own low sigh of relief as your hand raised to cup his cheek. It never failed to enchant him how soft your hands were. “I want you, too… So what’s wrong?”

If there was one thing he admired about you, though he loved just about everything, it was your straightforward nature, your tendency to lay your cards out in front of him and wear your heart on your sleeve for the whole world to see. Now that he knew you wanted him, he wondered why you hadn’t told him earlier, but maybe you liked teasing him. Evil woman, he thought. She knows what she does to me.

Never before had the word evil been used as a compliment, until now. He liked how evil you were, if being evil was teasing him for seven years to the point he’d probably turn into a puddle of goo if you so much as grazed his lower abdomen. Though, he wasn’t entirely sure if that was a result of your teasing, or just how inexperienced he was.

“I just, uh… I haven’t done it in a real long time.”

Don’t lie, dumbass. You ain’t never done it.

“Oh, Daryl,” you laughed, “I haven’t done it in a long time either. I think it’ll feel even better, don’t you?”

As your confidence began to return to you, you found yourself tracing your fingertip along the collar of his shirt, and your eyes began to descend down his neck, the muscles in which seemed about ready to burst through the surface of his skin as he strained himself not to seem too desperate. He could practically feel the blood rushing to his head when your fingers parted the lowest point of his collar, making their way to his top button. Sparse hairs of light caramel color dotted his chest, which became more and more exposed to you as your fingers snapped together to undo that first button.

Your tongue wetted your lips as if on its own accord, your mouth becoming dry with each heavy breath you took. All the willpower in the world couldn’t stop you from impatiently attacking each plastic circle down the front of his shirt, ripping the fabric apart until his chest was bare, though his shirt still clung to his shoulders.

A slight trance took him over as he became almost immobilized, eyes wide and mouth agape as he watched your hands fight each other to figure out how to undo his belt.

“Mm, I’ve wanted this for so long,” you said, each word pouring out in an increasingly desperate whimper. “Kiss me.” You couldn’t even wait for him to shake himself out of that trance. Instead, you just crashed those trembling lips onto his, hands still fumbling to get that belt out from the loops.

Low, sultry groans emitted from your mouth and reverberated inside his. Without much other thought in his paralyzed brain, he grasped at your waist and squeezed you until you let out a breathy whimper of his name.

“Fuck me,” you sighed against his cheek, and soon you found yourself buried in the tresses of his hair, your lips pursed and peppering his scalp with kisses as your free hand clumsily searched for the button to his jeans. For a moment you gave up, lowering your hand to find the bulge in his jeans, growing and becoming more prominent with each movement of your body, somehow shivering despite the heat coursing through you like a lava flow. “I’ve waited so long for you… handyman.”

That little moniker reminded him, sending him flinching a little in your grasp as he awoke from his brief immobilization. You only held onto him tighter, gripping his thigh with one hand and his shoulder with the other. “There ain’t nothin’ wrong with your shower drain, is there?”

Your lips curled into a mischievous smirk. He’d finally caught on, it seemed. “No, but I still need your… expertise.”

Expertise, he thought, all the while trying to match your smirk, despite his inner state of panic. I got no damn expertise, woman.

He nearly opened his mouth to say something, to finally admit his lack of experience to you, but the feeling of your hand gripping his, leading it swiftly underneath the skirt of your dress, rendered him speechless.

A pink rosy haze swelled around him, clouding his vision until all he could see was your face, your body, your eyes closed and your lips spread apart as his palm tickled you in the place where you hadn’t felt a foreign touch in so long. You’d always been waiting for Daryl, hoping he’d come to you first. You’d turned other men in Alexandria down before, waiting for the burly yet inordinately quiet archer to finally kneel down at your feet and admit to you his feelings that you knew deep down he shared for you.

The touch of a man’s hand had at least been known to you, but for Daryl, he’d never felt this before. The sparse carpet of short, slightly curled hairs cushioned his thumb, while the other fingers clumsily spread apart your lips, slightly wetted by your arousal. When his mind caught up with his actions, he realized you were telling the truth—you weren’t wearing any panties. As he thought back to earlier, you standing so close to him, petting his arm and flashing those sultry bedroom eyes his way, he couldn’t help but imagine a droplet or two trickling down your thigh, uninhibited by the presence of underwear.

“I love your hands on me,” you sighed under your breath, barely audible for him to hear, as if you didn’t even need him to hear, you just needed those words to linger in the air for a moment, so it was known by even the tiniest speck of dust in that room that you loved this feeling. “Daryl… I need you.”

It wasn’t even just a want anymore, not a flight of fancy or anything that could ever evaporate from your mind. It was an intensity for a man you’d never felt before, and if you didn’t have him soon, you were sure you’d go mad.

“I—I need ya, too,” he stuttered mindlessly, his fingers wiggling in sloppy movements as he blindly felt around below your dress, that strange feeling of touching something he’d never touched before. It was so new, so exciting. Every inch of his body grew tense and taught, pulled tighter than a tourniquet with each stroke of his fingers against your folds. Still, he had no idea what he was doing, and that uncertainty got the better of him. “I gotta tell ya somethin’.”

You hummed a sweet, “Hm?” through your smiling lips. “What is it, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart? he thought to himself. Shit, this is really happening. If this was what it was like to be loved, he had a feeling it would become a guilty pleasure for him. That sound of your angelic voice calling him something so sacred was so surreal, and so very sweet.

He felt your hand tighten around his, guiding him to keep his palm pressed against you.

“I ain’t ever…”

His voice trailed off as you leaned forward to press your lips against the center of his chest, where the most tempting crop of short, sparse chest hairs dotted his broad frame. Spreading your lips, you licked languid, sloppy circles over his skin, taking in the feeling of those hairs dancing with your tongue.

Desperately keeping his hand under your dress, you manipulated his pliable fingers to enter you slowly, causing his breath to hitch in shock at the feeling.

“(Y/N),” he said. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t bring himself to pull away, not when that warm, silky embrace was swallowing his fingertips in the most delectable way. “I—I ain’t never… Fuck.”

“Mm, tell me more,” you laughed against his chest. “I love your voice… Say my name again.”

He swallowed hard and shut his eyes tight as he tried so hard not to lose control of himself before he could tell you what he needed you to know, but the truth was he quite liked your name on his voice, too, and he had a proclivity for saying it, especially whenever he touched himself.

“(Y/N),” he sighed, a gruff and raspy sigh, but a sigh nonetheless. “I’ve never done this before.”

The vibration of your playful laughter against his pec as you kissed him there seemed to be a bad sign. What if you were laughing at him, laughing at how he couldn’t possibly ever please you? Clearly you wanted him, and now he couldn’t be the man you needed to satisfy you. A virgin? Surely that wasn’t the kind of man you expected him to be, and surely it wasn’t the kind of man you deserved. Not only that, but Daryl was no young man. He was much past the age of a typical virgin, so how was he supposed to excuse it? It just was never something he’d been very interested in, never something he’d been offered, either. Now here he was, with a woman who was just about ready to let him make love to her, and now he might’ve just blown it. Still, you needed to know. He owed you that, he thought. He needed you to know what you were getting into.

Now you knew.

Well, he had hoped you knew.

“Mm, done what before?”

Fuck. Ain’t it obvious?

“Never, uh…”

There’s no way, you thought. There’s no way this man is a virgin.

“Daryl,” you said, more seriously now as you lifted your head to look in his eyes, trying to find the truth as disbelief clouded your vision. Surely Daryl had women clamoring for him before the world ended. Surely he’d been with women before. You knew for a fact that there were a handful of women in Alexandria ready to drop their pants in a heartbeat for him. Hell, you were one of them, though you’d somehow managed to scare most of them off with your less than subtle attempts to publicly portray a more intimate relationship with Daryl, even if you’d never done anything more than kiss his cheek. “Are you trying to tell me you’ve never had sex before?”

He swallowed hard. “Yeah.”

“Oh, Daryl,” you laughed, raising your hands to cup his cheek. “That’s okay.”

“Really?” he asked, dumbfounded by your continued affection as your hands massaged his chest, pushing his shirt further off his shoulders. “Ya ain’t… disappointed?”

“Well, I’m sitting on the lap of the man I’ve had feelings for for seven years. I think there’s very few things that could disappoint me right now.”

That crooked, boyish smile that spread on his face was enough to show just how much that meant to him, how much relief washed over him. Still, it faded when another thought occurred to him.

“But what if I can’t… What if I can’t satisfy ya?”

You chuckled under your breath at the notion. “You’ve already satisfied me,” you said, causing his brows to knit together in confusion at the statement.

Leaning forward, you whispered in his ear, but only after taking a delicate bite of his earlobe. “I touch myself every night thinking about you,” you said. “Thinking about all the things I want you to do to me…” Your hand reached down to lift his fingers to his own lips, and that innocent confusion in his eyes as he looked at you only ignited a deeper fire within you. “Taste me.”

Something about the demand in your voice as you instructed him seemed to rule him up. You never commanded him before, not with such controlling need. He liked it, surprisingly. He liked when you bossed him around, especially since he had no clue what he was doing.

His tongue slipped out between his lips, as his eyes still locked firmly onto yours. Those fingertips sank effortlessly into his mouth, as a simple lick was not enough. He took four of his fingers inside, sucking them gently to absorb every last drop of you.

“Mm, good… Do you like that?” you asked, hands now massaging his scalp as soft, wavy caramel tresses draped over your attentive fingers.

It was almost patronizing how you spoke, as if you were amused by his relative innocence. Still, he liked how you spoke to him, so controlling and yet so soft, in that angelic voice of yours. You knew what you wanted, that much was clear, and Daryl knew what he wanted, too, but he’d need you to guide him. It was evident that you were more than willing to do so.

“Like it a lot,” he answered, tentatively returning his hand to the pot of dripping honey between your legs, though he stopped himself at the hem of your dress. “Can… Can I have some more?”

In a flash, you tugged on his hair, pushing his head back until it rested forcefully on the edge of the couch. His grunt of surprise echoed for a moment, turning you on far more than you intended.

“You want more?” you asked, brushing your nose up against his as your face and body pinned him down. Of course, he could probably throw you off him if he wanted to, but that was just the thing—he didn’t want to, not in a million years. He had you right where he wanted you, on top of him. “What do you want more of, sweetheart?”

He bit his lip and nodded his head, as if it was obvious. “Wanna taste you more.”

“On your fingers?”

“Yeah…” His tongue poked out between his lips as he desperately reached up to kiss you, and you let him, for a moment, until that sloppy tongue got too wily. He needed to be tamed, you thought. He needed control, otherwise he’d lose himself before he could even relish in the pleasure of his first time.

With a gentle, but firm, pull of his hair, you removed his saliva-soaked lips from yours, though it was tempting to keep him there, even if he was a sloppy kisser. In fact, you quite liked it that way.

“I got a better idea,” you whispered against his lips, which trembled in an attempt to close the space and devour you once again. “Lay down.”

As you raised yourself from his lap, you eyed the rather prominent bulge outlined in his jeans. Your thighs seemed to instinctually rub together, providing your sensitive area with a little relief until you could feel the friction you needed from him.

He seemed hesitant at first, slightly embarrassed by your eyes scanning his body. As he scooted forward, ready to maneuver himself, you called out another order: “Take your shirt off.”

The quarter-length sleeved button-up was still clinging to his shoulders, and you needed to see that strong, broad chest in all its glory. Clearing his throat, he relented, bashfully stripping himself of his shirt. Noticing his slight shame, probably from the numerous scars he’d developed over the years on his chest, your eyes turned soft and understanding. You, too, had your fair share of scars. Everyone who’d lived long enough in this world had them.

“You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about,” you said softly, hoping he wouldn’t recoil at your reassurance. “Your body is beautiful.”

He swallowed hard as he came to terms with your eyes taking him in. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t look in the mirror many times before, examining his own nakedness and wondering what you’d think. Most of the time, he told himself you’d hate his body, how worn it was. He was bulky, too, and you were so soft and delicate in his eyes. Surely you’d have wanted someone more lean and with a smaller frame, but no… You thought he was beautiful. You said so yourself. He couldn’t argue with you, not even if he wanted to.

“Not as beautiful as you,” he said, a nervous chuckle undercutting his gruff voice. It was so sweet to see him so shy as he called you beautiful for the first time. He’d hinted at it before, usually with the odd “you look nice,” or “I like your hair,” but never something so direct.

“Lay down,” you repeated, approaching slowly as you watched him lean back until he was lying face-up on the sofa, waiting for you.

His curiosity piqued when you straddled his stomach, rubbing your bare slit up and down his abdomen. You felt him tense up, and you could tell by the frozen movement in his chest that he was holding his breath, nervously expecting something.

“Just relax,” you laughed, letting your hands rest on his pecs to feel his breathing begin to return. He seemed to like your touch on his chest. “Let me show you how to do it… You still want to taste me again?”

He nodded slowly, keeping his trembling hands steady on your waist. “Yeah…”

“Good,” you said. “I like your tongue.”

As you slid up further on his chest, until his chin met your pelvis, you looked down to speak once more. “I'll guide you.”

Lifting yourself up, you straddled his face, then lowered yourself as you felt his hands curl around your thighs, pulling you further down. “Whoa,” you laughed, steadying yourself on his face as his tongue blindly searched for your entrance. “Settle down, partner.”

You pulled back the hem of your dress to meet his eyes, and watched them flit open to meet yours. His tongue moved in quick, rapid, hungry attempts to taste you, causing you to hiss under your breath at the sloppy movements as he only darted past your clitoris.

Pulling him gently by his hair, you guided his mouth to your clit, and held his head there with both hands, circling your thumbs over his temples. “That’s the spot,” you said. “Lick me there…” You tightened your grip on his head, swirling it around until his tongue was moving just the way you wanted it to, slow and steady. “Kiss me too.”

His lips suctioned around your clitoris as he kissed you there, all while his tongue moved at the pace you instructed. You kept your hands tangled in his hair, moving his head like a puppeteer holding her puppet on a string.

“Kiss and lick…” you sighed, watching his eyes flutter closed and his nostrils expand with each heavy breath. “Open your eyes.”

His hazy, blue-grey eyes opened just enough to see you peel that cream-colored dress from your body, revealing a pale pink bra that kept your breasts tightly contained. As the dress folded over your head, it took with it the scrunchie that had once held your loose updo in place, rendering the messy tendrils to spill over your shoulders and your face. With one hand, you tossed the discarded garment, and with the other, you moved the hair from your eyes to look back down at him, enraptured.

You reached back to unclasp your bra until the straps came loose, allowing you to slowly pull it from your chest until the lukewarm air of the living room hit your nipples just enough to get them stiff.

“Keep going,” you said, noticing his lips and his tongue had stopped moving, as he was in a state of awe. “You’re doing so good, Daryl.”

His tongue on your clit again, you began to rock back and forth, attempting to ride his tongue for the first time. He let out a grunt against you, but it wasn’t out of displeasure, that much was evident—his tongue moved more rapidly now, desperately lapping at your clit until he lost control of himself, moving his tongue back down to breach the entrance. You felt his tongue squirm inside you, tickling the shallow part of your hole.

“Oh…” you moaned under your breath, rocking with more vigor to match the clumsy wiggles of his tongue inside you. His head began to move side-to-side, causing the tip of his nose to tickle your clit with each pass. “Dar-Daryl, I… Oh, God.”

You felt his forearms wrap tight around your bare thighs, moving you at the pace of his tongue until you weren’t moving on your own accord anymore. His tongue and lips moved frantically, switching from your clit to your hole in rapid bursts as he couldn’t contain himself from sucking, licking, and kissing every part of that area. It was already so addictive, so delicious. He groaned deep against you, his way of begging you to ride him harder until you came on him, but he was going too fast for your liking, moving his mouth too hungrily.

“S-slow down,” you moaned, squeezing the back of the couch with one hand and tugging on his hair with the other. “Take it easy… No hurry. Just go slow… I like your tongue down there.”

He nodded, bringing his tongue back to your clit, where he let his head move once again with the guidance of your hands. “Good boy,” you laughed under your breath. You heard him groan underneath you, another groan of pleasure. “You like that?”

He nodded again, letting out another groan as his lips suctioned with your folds to make the most sinful sound, intermingling his saliva with your wetness.

“Just keep your head still,” you instructed. “And let me ride you.”

You clamped your hands to each side of his head, keeping him still as you slowly moved against the grain of his tongue’s flicks. Your back arched and your core grinding back and forth, you lowered your hands to meet Daryl’s as they rested on your thighs.

His hands went numb at your touch, letting you bring them up to your breasts, where you encouraged his hands to massage the supple tissue. His fingers moved clumsily as he tried to focus on his tongue pleasuring you, and the feeling of your breasts under his palms, bouncing with each thrust you made.

You moved at a steady rhythm, and his tongue began to match it, though all he wanted was to reach down for a moment and relieve himself over his jeans, which tightened and constrained his erection, the likes of which he was sure he hadn’t felt before. He’d had plenty of erections, but this? This was different. This was torturous.

Your hand encouraged his fingers to pinch your nipples, but one hand dropped down to palm at his clothed cock. You groaned, leaning back to replace his hand on your breast.

“You’ve got to make me come first,” you said with a smirk. “Then I’ll take care of you, sweetheart.”

He nodded, then moved to take one last deep breath of air before latching his mouth tight to your clit.

“Ugh!” you cried out, throwing your head back with the shockwave that teared through your abdomen. You were close to the height of your pleasure, after so long of Daryl’s tongue dancing wildly in an attempt to find his rhythm. You couldn’t say you didn’t like his sloppiness, though. It was cute, in a way. At least he listened to your instructions, for the most part. “That’s it, right there…”

He drew tighter and tighter circles around your sensitive spot, each swirl of his tongue tugging on the tightness in your core and getting you closer and closer to the climax. As his hands gripped tight around your thighs, you leaned back, arms stretched backwards to prop yourself up, hands resting on his lower abdomen as your body rocked back and forth, getting as much friction as possible against his tongue.

“Oh, yes!” you called out into the air. “Keep going… Daryl… Yes… Oh…”

One last thrust against his tongue sent your body into a cascade of pleasure as your orgasm pulsed through you. You let out a delirious laugh between deep, sultry moans. Each pulse caused your body to drag your slit back and forth over his tongue instinctually, letting your throbbing clitoris absorb even more pleasure.

With the last shockwaves of your orgasm, you maneuvered yourself until his tongue met your pulsing hole, dripping with the evidence of your orgasm. He didn’t hesitate to jut his tongue into your entrance, allowing himself to catch the droplets and to feel the last clenches of your moving walls.

Your hands held his as they rested on your hips, then dragged them slowly up the curve of your body until they cupped your breasts, sensitive and taught from your arousal. Lifting yourself from the lower half of his face, you straddled his chest until you could see his lips, glistening with saliva and raw from overuse. His eyelids were heavy, with only a sliver of those overcast sky blue eyes hazily watching you languidly drag your core up and down his abdomen.

His chest heaved as he panted, and as he caught his breath, you lowered yourself further until you felt the scratchy fabric of his jeans underneath you. Leaning forward, you took his panting lips in yours, massaging them gently to ease their exhaustion. You felt his arms coil around your back, pulling you closer until your bodies were almost one. It felt so natural being above him, letting him hold you close as his lips picked up the pace and demanded more movement from yours.

Soon his tongue was moving wildly inside your mouth again, and his hands moved desperately up and down your back, one finally landing on your bottom, the other tangling in your hair, forcing his kiss to go deeper.

The pressure from his grip on your ass made your core come into closer contact with his until you could feel the intense erection confined in his jeans. The pressure on your clit was too strong not to react, so your body instinctively moved, grinding your lower body back and forth over his clothed cock. He let out a deep hiss between your lips, and gripped harder onto your hair and ass as he threw his head back, finally separating himself from the lock of your lips.

“Ah, fuck!” he cried out. That sensation of your body dragging itself up and down his cock was torturous, in the way the most delectable pleasure can become so intense it turns itself into the most abject pain. “I need ya,” he whimpered, a small cry of help you’d never heard from the stoic man before. You hated to admit it, but it was beautiful to see him crumble, just a little. He was always so strong, so fearless in the face of the terrors from the outside world, and yet, with you, he was nervous, timid, and now, begging you for release from his state of arousal-induced agony. “I need ya so bad.”

A slight smirk across your face, you slowly sat up, purposefully putting more weight on your core as it sunk deeper into his.

“Shit!” he yelped, raising his head to look down, seeing what you were doing to him.

You bounced gently on his clothed erection, hoping to tease him just a little more before you released the poor thing from its entrapment.

“Ah, fuckin’ shit! You’re gonna make me come ‘fore you get my pants off, woman.”

“You better not,” you said. “Not before I get you inside me.”

He nodded rapidly, chest heaving with heavy breaths as your hand reached between your legs to stroke his clothed cock. “(Y/N),” he stuttered. “I can’t wait no more.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Then let’s get these pants off.”

You felt his legs squirm as you lifted yourself up just enough to unbutton his jeans, then pull down the zipper until you could see the dark grey of his boxers. Your hands moving too slow for him, he reached down to pull off his pants until he could shimmy them off the rest of the way.

“You’re so impatient,” you teased, tickling your fingertips up and down the length of his cock, stiff and hard as a rock beneath the fabric of his underwear. His breath hitched and his hands clinged to your thighs, squeezing them tight as he tried to control himself.

“Woman, you’re evil,” he hissed under his breath.

You laughed and shook your head as you jerked the waistband of his underwear to reveal his cock—long, hard, and already beginning to stand up on its own. “Mm, wow… Big boy.”

He scoffed, halfheartedly glaring at you through hooded eyes. He couldn’t pretend he wasn’t at least a little flattered, though. “Ya think so?”

“Know so. Nice and big and hard…”

Your hand wrapped tight around his shaft, pinning it to his abdomen as you sat yourself on the base of his cock. “Fuckin’… F-fuck, (Y/N),” he groaned. “Ain’t ya gonna put it inside ya for Christ’s sake?”

You pouted exaggeratingly, wiggling your hips to center his cock between your folds. “Not yet,” you said.

Leaning yourself backwards on your hands as they held his thighs, you slowly slid your slit up his shaft towards his tip, causing him to jolt at the feeling, that terrible trembling that surged through his cock as you slid backwards once again.

“You like that?” you asked.

“Shit, I… Fuckin’… God… Shit.”

“Mm, I’ll take that as a yes.”

“F-fuck yeah,” he clarified, watching as with each pass you spread a layer of sheen over his aching cock. “It’s fuckin’ amazing.”

You continued sliding his cock between your folds, moving your body back and forth rapidly, until his groans became so intense you were sure he’d come prematurely, so you slowed to an excruciating pace until you stopped, sitting still on the base of the cock.

He let out a strangled moan under his breath, almost high-pitched enough to be a whimper. “Woman…” he groaned, his voice drenched in a quivering ache. “I need ya.”

He tugged on your thighs with both hands, forcefully dragging you up and down his shaft once again, until you tore his hands from you, throwing them loosely above his head till they dangled over the arm of the sofa. “Hey,” you said. “You’re gonna come if you do that.”

“I—I wanna… Wanna come.”

He looked almost pitiful, panting out his words through trembling lips as his eyes hungrily trailed over your body, that body he had visualized in his head so many cold nights in those dense woods as he searched for his lost friend—searched for some kind of meaning to his life. When he settled back in Alexandria a year ago, he still couldn’t shake those thoughts from his mind. In fact, the yearning had only gotten worse. Now that you were here, finally really there and not just some blurry figment of his imagination, he couldn’t wait much longer.

“You’ll come,” you said, wrapping your hand around his shaft to lead it to your entrance. “I’ll make you come.”

“Ah, shit!” he blurted out as his tip entered your shallow end just for a brief moment. In a conscious act of near torture, you had pulled him out again.

Redness blotted his face and neck as he strained himself. His cheeks puffed up with air, each breath labored and heavy. You watched in amusement as the prominent vein in his neck swelled and clenched under his sweat-speckled skin.

When he calmed down for a moment, you let yourself sink down a little further onto his cock, heaving your own deep sigh of pleasure as you did so.

You felt a powerful jolt send you bouncing upwards, and his cock snaking deeper inside you. His hips bucked up in quick succession, causing you to grip his shoulders in order to restore your balance.

“Ah, fuck!” he cried out hoarsely. “Shit, I’m… I’m gonna…”

You pulled him out swiftly, eliciting a deep, guttural groan from the pit of his chest. “(Y/N)…” he whimpered, rolling his head back and forth in the best kind of agony. Still, it was agony.

You knew what you were doing, of course. You were drawing him so close to the edge, then pulling him back before he could reach it. All he wanted was to feel you clenching around him, your body bouncing on his as you enveloped him in the warmth and sweet friction of your twitching walls. He’d feel that eventually, but for now, you wanted to play with him a little.

He had gotten so close to release, though, that now he was rabid, practically foaming at the mouth and driven wild by lust and the pleasure he was being denied. It was exactly how you wanted him: desperate, almost primal in the way he needed you to release him. Not anyone else, not himself, you.

As you sat on his cock once more, taking the entirety of its length inside of you, you felt his cock begin to twitch, signalling it was close to its point of relief. The deepness and the angle at which he penetrated was intoxicatingly good, and if you weren’t so focused on him, you might’ve taken the opportunity to let yourself have another orgasm, but you didn’t think he’d last much longer, not long enough for you to do that.

Instead, you rode him hard again, arching your back and pinning his arms against the arm of the couch, hair cascading wildly around your face and bottom clenching hard with each thrust.

Your own moans started to harmonize with his until the two of you created some kind of erotic symphony of strangled grunts and breathy whimpers. As his eyes clenched shut and his neck strained again until all his muscles showed through the red-tinted skin, you pulled him out once more, letting his cock spring up to meet his belly button.

“Fuckin’ shit!” he groaned. “Fuck me, woman!”

Words fell on deaf ears as you watched him squirm. If he really wanted to, he could’ve escaped the grip you had on his arms, but who was he to do such a thing? After all, he was the virgin, and you were guiding him.

As your eyes locked onto his, you nearly gasped to see two glimmering pools of water forming in his eyes. Is he crying?

“Please, (Y/N),” he practically whined under his breath. “I need you… I need you. Please.”

One small, jagged tear ran down his cheek, but your lips caught it before reaching his jawline. Kissing over to his lips, you jutted your tongue into his mouth to get another feel of his wily tongue.

“I love it when you beg me,” you whispered against his lips. “You’re such a good boy.”

If he had any willpower left in his body, he would’ve sassed you for the slightly degrading compliment, but he could hardly speak any word other than “please.”

So you sat yourself back down on the base of his cock, once again spreading your lips to envelope his shaft as you slid up and down, this time with the intention of letting him finish.

When he pulled on your hips, tugging you faster along his shaft, you didn’t stop him, letting him use you to get himself off now. “Ah… yeah… shit…”

It didn’t take long at all for a small spurt of white liquid to emerge from his swollen red tip, with a series of bigger spurts following in quick succession and pooling on his stomach. His chest heaved and his face melted in pure bliss with each twitch of his cock that sent shocks through his core. He’d never felt an orgasm like that, not one from such contact with someone else, and surely not from contact with you, the only woman he could imagine as he touched himself at night. No, this was different.

“Holy… shit,” he panted. “That was… so fuckin’ good.”

“Mm,” you hummed, wrapping your fingers around his softening cock and tucking it back in where it belonged. He twitched at the feeling of his still sensitive tip grazing the deepest part of you, but it felt too good to pull away, too warm and soft inside you. “We should’ve done that a long time ago.”

Eyes still closed as he processed his bliss, he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead as you tucked your face into his neck. The couch was much too small for both of you in this position, but the closeness was worth the sacrifice of comfortability.

“We shoulda,” he agreed, then let out a deep sigh. “Jesus, woman, you like to torture me, don’t ya?”

“What do you think I’ve been doing the last seven years, huh? Torturing you is kind of my thing.”

His hand tangled in your hair until a strand formed a curl around his finger. He never thought he could be so entranced by just a piece of hair. That was how much you affected him—even the tiniest, most insignificant part of you was enough to distract him.

“Yeah, well,” he said, “please tell me I wasn’t the worst you ever had.”

You scoffed and nuzzled your nose into his neck, kissing his collarbone. “You were the best,” you said. His scoff of disbelief caused your eyes to flutter to meet his in pure genuineness. “Really. You’re the best.”

“Nah,” he said. “I sucked, you can say it.”

Well, he really hoped you wouldn’t, actually. His pride was at an all-time high, despite his self-deprecation. It was a hard habit to break, but the confidence he felt now was already another addiction he’d have to grapple with.

“Daryl, I love you.” Your words were so matter-of-fact, so blatant and direct, that he needed to blink away his disbelief before letting your dead serious face come back into focus. “Sex isn’t anything without love… I don’t care that you’re a virg—Well, were a virgin. I love you, and that fact alone made it the best sex I’ve ever had. Plus, you’re really not that bad.”

“Really?” he asked.

“Mhm… Just a little sloppy, but we’ll work on that. Practice makes perfect.” You tugged on his chin to guide his lips back to yours, kissing them sweetly for just a short moment. Even the littlest, most innocent peck was enchanting to him.

“I love you,” he said, eyes turning hazy as the heaviness of his lids began to blur your visage. “Shoulda said it a long time ago… Shoulda done a lot of things a long time ago.”

You tilted your head and smiled. “You’re saying it now… That’s all that really matters.”

A comfortable silence settled in after a while, the steady beating of Daryl’s heart lulling you into a shallow sleep until his deep, syrupy voice gently roused you.

“Hey,” he said, softly shaking your shoulder.

“Mhm?”

His nose nuzzled into your hair, where he left a small kiss, or maybe two, he was too sleepy to count, and quite hungry, as well.

“Got any peach pie?”

Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and comments of any kind are always appreciated!

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sugawarassoulmate · 2 years

Text

and i can be needy, way too damn needy

“oh, didn’t like what i had to say?” she must have noticed your reaction, feeding off your palpable anxiety. “both of them feel that way, you know. they only really hang out with you because your mothers are good friends. you think they would give you the time of day if they had a choice?”

atsumu too? no, that couldn’t be true. he’s always been your best friend. yeah, your moms were close and it was easy to go to their house after school while your parents were working, but atsumu’s smile always grew wide whenever you walked through the door. surely all of that had been genuine?

“that’s a lie…” you mumble, wishing for once you could find the strength to stick up for yourself. this doesn’t feel the same as when osamu teases you, that’s something you can navigate. this is uncharted territory. never has anyone else been so callous towards you. usually because one of the boys was there to step in—atsumu to offer a kind word and osamu to throw a punch or two.

but maybe that was the problem. maybe they didn’t want to waste their time saving you anymore.

this really wasn't meant to turn into anything! i've had this doc sitting on my computer for months thinking nothing was gonna come from it, but you guys really liked the snippet i shared so here it is.

if you were expecting a big confrontation between osamu's girlfriend and reader, sorry! my crybaby doesn't play that way but she does get her comeuppance 👀

also there wasn't going to be any smut in this fic but.......osamu's hot LOL

words: 3.8k

cw: fem!reader, insecurity, name-calling, fingering, jealousy, possessiveness, infidelity mention, minors dni

disclaimer: on this blog, we discuss and explore toxic relationships/situations/ just because i write about these themes does not mean i condone/support these types of relationships nor do i do them in my own personal life.

these are fictional characters in fictional scenarios and nobody should be taking real-life advice or mirror the actions of the characters in these stories!

You walked into the kitchen expecting to see Osamu with his head in the fridge as usual. Instead, you found something worse, his girlfriend leaning on the counter. A scowl on her face as soon as she locks eyes with you. It’s the first time you’ve ever been alone with her, without Osamu there to make a mean comment at your expense that makes her laugh sweetly, “Baby, you’re being so rude!” she’d say in her shrill voice.

But there’s none of that in her face at the moment. She crosses her arms, eyebrows furrowed as she gets a good look at you. “Of course, you’re here too,” she says, attempting to grumble under her breath but it’s definitely loud enough for you to hear.

You don’t really want to know what she meant, mumbling an apology in her direction before trying to shuffle past her to the stairs. She’s quicker than you, though, blocking your path and almost tripping you in the process. “What the hell are you doing here?” She gets in your face, demanding an answer. It’s only when she’s so close that you take in how pretty she actually is: full, pouty lips, a high arch in her eyebrows, sharp cheekbones, a straight nose.

She didn’t look like the kind of girl Osamu dated, but you figured that wasn’t a fair assumption for you to make. You didn’t really know what kind of girls Osamu liked. Whenever his brother brought the topic up, it usually ended with a punch to the gut.

“Atsumu and I have plans,” you said, hoping she’d leave you alone. She purses her lips, seemingly not satisfied with your response. “Could you—”

“Do you not have friends of your own? You’re always tagging along with the twins, aren’t you embarrassed?” her features twist into a smile, one of ridicule. You’re not sure how to respond, mouth clamping up as you hope for someone to come downstairs and save you. But you’re not that lucky and your silence only pisses her off even more. “Not even going to defend yourself? Samu’s right, you’re hopeless!”

Hopeless? Had Osamu said that about you? He’s said worse things to your face, sure, but never once did you think he spoke about you behind your back. Did he talk about you to her? Complain about you? Of course, you weren’t his favorite person in the world but did he actually feel that way?

You could feel your stomach churning, a bitter taste bubbling in the back of your throat. You had to get out of there, but your legs wouldn’t move. “Oh, didn’t like what I had to say?” she must have noticed your reaction, feeding off your palpable anxiety. “Both of them feel that way, you know. They only really hang out with you because your mothers are good friends. You think they would give you the time of day if they had a choice?”

Atsumu too? No, that couldn’t be true. He’s always been your best friend. Yeah, your moms were close and it was easy to go to their house after school while your parents were working, but Atsumu’s smile always grew wide whenever you walked through the door. Surely all of that had been genuine?

“That’s a lie…” you mumble, wishing for once you could find the strength to stick up for yourself. This doesn’t feel the same as when Osamu teases you, that’s something you can navigate. This is uncharted territory. Never has anyone else been so callous towards you. Usually because one of the boys was there to step in—Atsumu to offer a kind word and Osamu to throw a punch or two.

But maybe that was the problem. Maybe they didn’t want to waste their time saving you anymore.

“Please, do you think they’d say it to your face? To the crybaby that lives next door? They don’t want to hurt your feelings but someone needs to give you a reality check.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” you snap back, feeling the tightness in your chest. Even when Osamu was giving you his worst, he never made you feel so small.

She laughs humorlessly, taking a step forward into your personal space and leaning down. It feels so humiliating. “I know enough,” she claims. “Every time I’m with my boyfriend, he never shuts up about you. What makes you so damn special? Maybe he wouldn’t bitch about you so much if you just fucked off and found friends of your own.”

You wanted to tell her it wasn’t true. That you knew more about the twins than she did, but all the energy you had left disappeared. And, in turn, her words started playing in your head over and over. Maybe it was true. Maybe your friendship with the twins had run its course—or rather your friendship with one of them did. Osamu had never been your friend before, had he?

Right on cue, the tears started running down your face. You could imagine how red and distorted your face had become, your nose becoming runny and mouth growing dry. You’re rushing out of the room before she could say anything else, running towards your house and slamming the door behind you.

It’s only when you’re finally alone that you allow your sobs to get loud, to feel all your insecurities pouring out into the open. And it’s just so pitiful that your first reaction is to run to Atsumu and point out the person who made you feel this way. What’s most surprising is that, for once, it wasn’t his brother who was at fault. Not even Osamu could make you cry this much.

Your phone starts buzzing every few seconds and through tears, you read out the notifications on the screen.

From: ☀️tsumu☀️: did ya get here yet?

From: ☀️tsumu☀️: thought i heard the front door..

You want to reach out to him, to both of them. But you can’t even bother with a reply. Instead, you turn your phone off, and let your tears flow some more.

You’ve never avoided both of the twins before, but you couldn’t face them after that conversation. It was hard at first, having both of the boys blow up your phone for most of the day was pretty normal. The three of you were always together, whether at each other’s houses, going out, or running errands together. If that wasn’t the case, you’d be on the phone with one of them, usually Atsumu, for hours.

But for the first time, you haven’t been giving either of them your attention—you turned off notifications on your phone, started waking up an hour earlier so you wouldn’t have to walk with them, and you told your parents not to answer their calls.

“Did you get into a fight?” your mother had said. “What did Osamu do this time?” But you didn’t really have an explanation, the real story being far more embarrassing than anything else.

At school, it was harder to steer clear of them. You didn’t share many classes but you ended up moving your seat in the few you did, ducking out of the room as soon as the bell rang to avoid having to talk to them. Thankfully, volleyball kept them busy and limited your interactions.

There was one incident in the cafeteria where you nearly broke your-self isolation.

It was easy for Atsumu to find you in a crowded room, locking eyes with you across the cafeteria. The boys were there with Suna and Ginjima talking amongst themselves and being rowdy as usual. Atsumu waved in your direction, beckoning for you to sit with them and you nearly did. Until you saw her cuddled up to Osamu’s side, a disapproving look on her face.

Osamu’s face didn’t look that pleasant either. “Maybe he wouldn’t bitch about you so much if you just fucked off and found friends of your own…”

Suddenly feeling nauseous, you turned your back on the table. Grabbing your food, you make your way towards the roof and eat there. You could usually be alone up there, without being a bother to anyone else.

“Did Osamu do something to you?” Suna asked one day when you were in the library. It was safe to study there—the boys had been banned in their first year after one too many fights. Suna sat across from you, an unreadable look on his face as he watched you take notes. “You haven’t come to practice in a week.”

You figured there was no use in avoiding him and continued to keep doing work. “Why does everyone think he did something?”

“Something had to have happened. Tweedledee and Tweedledum said you haven’t spoken to them in a while,” he leans back in his chair with his feet up on the table. Even during the worst moments with Osamu, you’d still end up getting dragged to practice somehow. “They’ve been fighting a lot more than usual. Kinda annoying, honestly…”

That didn’t do much to quell your anxiety. It was always nasty when the boys fought but the idea of sitting in the bleachers with her after what she said made you queasy. Maybe it had nothing to do with you. The twins fighting wasn’t out of the ordinary, what made you so special?

“I’m really busy with school, okay?” you motion towards the mess of papers on the table you’re working at. But Suna looks unconvinced, probably thinking back to all the times you’ve either done homework or studied while watching the team practice. “Just don’t tell them that you spoke to me, please?”

One thing you love about Suna is that he doesn’t pry. If you’re not ready to talk about something, he’ll hold off on asking questions. “Fine,” he sighs, getting up. “Whatever it is, I’m sure you’ve got it figured out. But do something quick, ‘cause I don’t know how much patience Kita has left.”

You can’t explain the uneasiness in your gut while watching Suna leave the room. He was wrong, you didn’t have it figured out. There wasn’t a plan or an end goal in mind. But you couldn’t face the boys just yet. And, honestly, whatever was going on would figure itself out with or without you.

“No, no, no, no…” you groan to yourself fishing through your backpack for the tenth time, hoping your keys would somehow magically appear. There was a torrential downpour outside and your parents weren’t home or answering their phones. Like an idiot, you forgot your keys and certainly didn’t have an umbrella, your soaked uniform sticking to you, your body freezing and shivering.

The only people who had spare keys were the twins and their mother. “For emergencies,” said your own mother so long ago but they were never actually used for emergencies. All too often, the boys would barge into your home for snacks or drinks, but mostly for you. They’d pluck you from your bedroom—it didn’t matter if you were studying or sleeping, really—and drag you back to their house to watch a movie or settle an argument.

You asked your mother to tell them you weren't home or hid out in the library until it was too late for them to show up at your front door. But now, you were royally fucked and were running out of options. “Please be here…” you cried, wishing for your keys to end up in your hand.

“Are ya stupid? Yer gonna catch yer fuckin’ death out here!” It wasn’t hard to figure out who the voice belonged to. Osamu stormed to the front of your house, pissed off as he shoved you under his umbrella. “The fuck ya standin’ here for? Yer practically blue!”

You didn’t have the energy to argue or come up with some excuse to distance yourself from him. Not when your crybaby tears were threatening to come back again. “I don’t have my keys,” you sobbed, feeling cold and pathetic.

Osamu grabs you by the sleeve and hauled you next door to his house, cursing with every wet stomp of his feet. You’re pushed through the front entrance, already forming a puddle on the floor. The shoes by the door let you know their mother isn’t home either.

“Dude! Ya were right behind me, what took ya so long—” Atsumu stops dead in his tracks when he spots you, an unreadable emotion on his face but he’s quick to go into protective mode, running towards you and his brother. “What—”

“She forgot her fuckin’ keys,” Osamu grouches, sticking the umbrella in a stand near the door. He turns to you, looking as if he wants to bite your head off. “Go upstairs and take a hot shower. We’ll get ya clean clothes.”

“Aren’t you embarrassed?” her words are in your head again. The twins need to take care of you yet again because you’re too stupid to remember to carry a fucking key. “I just need my—”

“I don’t remember askin’ ya,” Osamu says, pushing you in the direction of their bathroom. “Go.” Your eyes flick to Atsumu but he’s in agreement with his twin. Embarrassed, you start heading upstairs, wishing for all of this to be over.

The boys left clean clothes for you outside the bathroom door after your shower. As expected, the shirt and pajama bottoms were much bigger, completely drowning you. Your wet clothes were thrown in the laundry room to be washed and dried. You’re too nervous to go into the living room and face them, but hiding upstairs would only make the situation worse.

You decide to just rip the band-aid.

Wringing the rest of the water with your towel, you walk in to see the boys talking amongst themselves. They stop when you enter the room, Atsumu looking apologetic as he leaves room on the couch for you to sit. A cup of tea sits on the coffee table, likely made by Osamu and you’re certain his anger would only get worse if you refuse.

It doesn’t take very long for Osamu to start interrogating you as soon as you sit down. “Why the fuck didn’t ya come here sooner?” he stands in front of you and his brother, grey eyes shooting daggers at yours.

“I thought I had them,” you lied, letting the cup warm your still cold hands. “I just didn’t want to bother you.”

“But why would ya think yer a bother?” This time Atsumu spoke, his hand reaching out to rub your shoulder. You appreciated the extra warmth. “Better yet, where have ya been lately? Ya stopped talkin’ to us out of nowhere.” You don’t miss the way his eyes glance over at Osamu. He probably thinks it’s his fault too.

“You think they would give you the time of day if they had a choice?” You’re so fed up at this point that her name falls from your mouth before you could stop yourself. Osamu quirks his brow, probably wondering what she has to do with any of this.

So you tell them—You mention all the nasty things she said to you, the cruel looks she’d shoot your way at school, and how you felt too stupid to tell them because a part of you really wondered if it was true. By the time you’re done, there are a few stray tears running down your face that you didn’t notice at first. A frustrated crybaby to the very end, you’re nothing if not consistent.

They’re both angry now, eyes locked with one another. “Did ya know about this?” Atsumu’s tone was accusatory.

“Of course I fuckin’ didn’t, why didn’t ya tell me?” Osamu asked, looking at you, but his brother is quick to come to your defense.

“It doesn’t matter when she told us, what matters is that it was yer girlfriend that said that shit to her.” He snaps, pulling you closer to his frame to soothe you. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Osamu, tongue poking his cheek. “What’re ya gonna do about it, Samu?”

The younger twin rolls his eyes takes a deep breath and walks out the room, choosing not to start a yelling match for once. Once you are alone, Atsumu wraps you in his arms for a hug. “Please don’t disappear like that on us again,” he says, refusing to let go. “I won’t be so nice next time.” You can hear the dumb grin on his face. You’ve missed him, both of them. Atsumu makes sure you finish the rest of your tea before walking off to set up the futon for you—he suggested you spend the night and didn’t take no for an answer.

You’re folding your uniform a few hours later after taking it out of the dryer. It should probably be ironed before you could wear it again but, thankfully, there’s no school tomorrow. While you’re there, you decide to fold the rest of the clean clothes there as well, knowing the boys’ mother would appreciate it.

The sweet silence was broken with Osamu’s heavy steps coming downstairs, screaming into his phone, unaware that you’re also in the room. “I don’t wanna hear it and don’t even think about comin’ here and gettin’ yer shit,” From all the years of knowing him, you’ve never heard his voice get like that. Even when he and Atsumu were fighting and he’s certainly never yelled at you like that.

“Get one of yer stupid friends to pick it up from Atsumu or Suna or I’m throwin’ it the fuck out. I’m blockin’ yer ass after that. Fuck off.” He hangs up without another word and that’s when he catches you kneeling in front of the dryer with piles of folded clothes. His face doesn’t soften as he gets down on your level, eyes scanning your form. “That’s Tsumu’s shirt…”

Staring down at the much too big shirt, you now realize that he’s right. You hadn’t really considered which of their shirts the boys gave since you were more concerned with having warm clothes than anything else. “I just grabbed whatever was there—” Osamu’s quick movements take you by surprise. Next thing you know, he has you pinned to the floor, hovering over you. It rattles you at first, but Osamu’s always been known to push you around whenever he felt like it. “Samu—”

“Don’t keep secrets from me. Ya should’ve told me as soon as she said that shit.” His knee is between your legs and you wonder if his intentions are pure. All of your clothes were soaked from the storm and all Osamu had to do to get to your more intimate parts was wander his hands just slightly underneath your shirt. It had been a while since he did anything like that. Osamu was loyal to the girls he dated. At least you think. So many times he’s trapped you for a quick kiss when nobody else was in the room, it’s possible that you had overlapped with his relationships a few times.

Maybe that’s why she hated you so much.

“If any of that bullshit was true,” Osamu continues, noticing the apprehension on your face. “I wouldn’t put up with yer sensitive ass.”

“I’m sorry…” you mumbled, fingers twisting between the fabric of your shirt. You felt stupid, letting your own insecurities and her words get to your head when you know none of them to be true. With all the years you’ve known them, you should have given the boys more credit. “I missed you.”

Finally, Osamu’s face relaxes. At this point, you wonder if he was actually upset with you this whole time, or with himself since it was his ex-girlfriend who had said caused all this. He leans in, pressing his lips to yours. It’s overwhelming, like all his kisses and it feels wrong to be so close just moments after he broke up with her, but it doesn’t stop you from deepening it.

“Such a pretty little crybaby, don’t know why I even bother with anyone else,” his voice is thick while his hands tug at your clothes. “Take this off. I’ll give ya my shirt in a bit, just lemme see ya.”

The sensation of your breasts being exposed to the cold laundry room to Osamu’s warm mouth wrapping itself around your nipple. A sharp whine leaves your lips but you stifle it, remembering that Atsumu is still upstairs. Osamu bites down on the sensitive bud, as one of his hands reaches past the sweats you had on, groaning when he realizes you aren’t wearing underwear.

Two of Osamu’s fingers plunge into your cunt without warning. It gets harder and harder to muffle your noises, eyes welling up with tears. “Wanna hear yer pretty noises, dummy. Been hidin’ from me too fuckin’ long. I deserve ‘em,” he growls, biting down hard on your breast just to force a high-pitched cry from you.

You pray that Atsumu is in his room. The thought of anyone seeing you in such a compromising position—half-naked and humping against Osamu’s hand—would be so humiliating but it has you whining and moaning even more.

“Can feel yer pussy clenchin’ around my fingers. Gonna make ya cum on the fuckin’ floor like a slut,” You can hear how wet you are, juices flowing down Osamu’s hand and it’s becoming too much. His thumb circles your clit as his fingers speed up. You pull him in for a kiss, burying your cries into his mouth. “Cum fer me, stupid girl. Missed this pretty pussy, need ya to cum.”

By the time he adds a third finger, you’re already too far gone. With a final, exasperated sob, you cum around Osamu’s hand. He stares, mesmerized by how sensitive your cunt is when he pulls his fingers out, your essence catching the light.

Your brain is too fuzzy to notice Osamu wiping his hand with Atsumu’s shirt, too busy trying to stop your legs from twitching. “Samu…”

“Don’t start yer whinin’, I’ll clean ya up,” he warns, grabbing a clean t-shirt to put on you. It’s one of his, of course. “Much better.”

“Don’t mind her, y/n,” Suna says after following your line of vision. The two of you were sitting at your regular lunch table a few days later when you felt someone staring daggers at you. Sure enough, there was Osamu’s ex looking back. Her usually pretty face now red and puffy. As horrible as she was, you still feel bad.

“Don’t mind who?” Atsumu asks as he and his brother join you after getting their food. Osamu feels your body tense up and is swift to see the reason why. Watching his eyes meet with hers brings back that unpleasant sinking feeling in your stomach for some reason.

But Osamu is quick to look away, an arm wrapping around his waist as he offers you some of his food. You sneak a brief glance back at her, just in time to see her storm out of the cafeteria.

It shouldn’t make you smile, but it does.

#haikyuu #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #osamu smut #osamu #osamu x reader #osamu miya smut #osamu miya x reader #osamu miya #miya osamu #miya osamu smut #miya osamu x reader #miya twins #haikyu x reader #haikyu smut #✨#✨osamu #bully!osamu

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anystalker707 · 4 months

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I'm fine

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x [gender-neutral] Reader Summary: Sanji knows there's something wrong, but he doesn't know how to approach you. Tags: comfort / soft / he's doing his best

Requested by anon ["Hello !! <3 I saw that your requests are open, may I request anything with Sanji ? You can decide the prompt or format, I was just thinking about (mostly Opla, a little bit of his pauses and deep thinking from the anime moments)..."] A/N: thanks so much for the request! I hope you have a good day and that you enjoy this

MASTERLIST

Sanji was way more attentive than he seemed to be, mind working on a thousand tasks at once whenever he was quiet and not drooling over anyone or dwelling in thoughts. He was aware of everything that went on in the crew, ignoring or managing things however he could, whether by forcing himself to remember he wasn’t responsible for everyone else’s problems or just making someone a special dish to brighten their day a little.

It wasn’t obvious, and you weren’t in the right place to notice it either, unaware of Sanji’s attentive gaze following each of your actions through the days. He could see the nap breaks were getting longer, and the way you seemed to slip into a daze sometimes, which only made the hollow in your gaze more evident. Despite watching you for a while now, he still couldn’t identify what was bothering you so much, but it didn’t feel like it was the right time to approach the subject yet, at least not directly.

The idea had been in Sanji’s mind for quite a while now, so he decided to ease his thoughts today, a little bit. He prepared a small portion of one of your favorite snacks with a suitable drink to follow, making sure to use one of the special plates and your favorite glass—you probably thought no one knew, but he noticed it when you always chose that one or stole it from someone else.

“My dear,” Sanji’s soft voice brought you back to reality, and he looked at you for a moment, as if he could figure out what’d been going on through your mind as you sat at that small table on the deck and stared into the horizon. He couldn’t, but he felt good for being able to ground you for at least a little while. “You barely touched your lunch today, so I thought you’d like to have something now.” He paused. “More like you should have something now.” Despite the light scolding tone, there was also tenderness that he hoped to reach you and give some comfort.

You furrowed your eyebrows and pressed your lips together as if you were going to say something, but only silence followed as you suppressed a sigh and brought the plate closer to inspect it. It felt like forever—Sanji’s eyes followed every little movement as you looked at the food and the drink. He could imagine the way you felt, throat clenching just at the thought of food, but he also knew you needed to eat to make up for the past days and remain healthy.

Sanji was startled when your eyes met yours, and for a moment, he wondered if you could perhaps hear his thoughts, but the feeling dissipated when he caught the confusion on your features.

“What’s up, Sanji?” You asked before finally taking a bite of the food—his shoulders dropped a little as he felt relieved just at the simple gesture.

Ironic. He should’ve been the one to ask that.

Sanji pressed his lips together for a moment and shrugged. “Nothing, really, I’m just… bored.” It was the first thing that came to his mind. He wasn’t really, not with all the stuff he had in his head, but it sounded fitting. “Are you… bored? You’ve been… just sitting there,” Sanji said, stumbling over words. He didn’t want you to know he was aware of your current state because something in his gut told him you’d immediately dodge it.

You were silent for a long moment. You took another bite of the food, swallowed, sipped on the drink, placed the glass down… “Something like that.”

The situation was delicate. Sanji had to think very well of what he was going to do, and he imagined it all as a hunter trying to approach a hare without making his presence known among the bushes. He followed your gaze to the sea for a moment before he grabbed the chair and placed it next to yours with a sigh, sitting with his hands over his lap.

“Oh, uh, I hope I can sit with you,” he said quickly, about to stand up again when you waved a hand in dismissal.

It was awkward. The silence that sat between the two of you was unsettling, but Sanji suspected he was the only one to feel that way. His hands were sweating a little. He wiped them away on his pants. He was just worried about you. Nothing else.

“You know,” you suddenly said, making Sanji immediately turn his head to you, “I… I really like your rings. They really suit you.” Your eyes met his a couple of times before your gaze averted to the sea again, and you sipped on your drink, almost finishing it.

It took Sanji a moment to process your comment—when he finally did so, he raised his eyebrows lightly and looked down at his own hands, fidgeting with his rings now that he was reminded of their existence. “Oh, thanks,” he breathed as he brought them closer to inspect but shook his head lightly and offered his hand to you instead. “I’ve gotten some of them as gifts, others were—” His voice faltered when your fingers touched his, and you held his hand close to your face to observe the beautiful carvings into silver metal. “—Were just bought around,” he continued in a quieter voice tone, eyeing you.

Your thumb traced one of the rings before you slid it off Sanji’s finger; he was startled at first, but he let it be, since he trusted you anyway. He was happy to see you doing something that wasn’t obligatory nor motivated by whatever bothered you, heart fluttering a little bit. Your fingers traced the rim of the ring, but you never put it on, just observing it before returning it to Sanji.

“They’re very nice,” you added with a hum, observing him put the ring on again.

“Thanks,” Sanji whispered with a small smile. His tongue peeked out to wet his lips as he shook his head lightly to get some of the strands off his face, and he exhaled softly. Despite the pleasant moment, the anxiety still bubbled under his skin; the unsaid words formed a lump in his throat that threatened to jump out at any second. He tried—he really tried—, but it was stronger than he was.

“You know that you can talk to anyone anytime, right?” Sanji blurted out. It was classic, cliché, but he hadn’t had time to think about anything else. “I mean, I must not be the right person in your eyes, but I reassure you that I try my best.”

There was more he wanted to say, but the look on your face made Sanji shut up. He’d stepped on a twig, and you were about to run away.

“Yeah, that’s what it is all about,” you whispered with a hint of… disappointment?

Sanji didn’t know what to say—or if he should say anything at all—, heart heavy in his chest as he held his breath as if the slightest movement would ruin all of it.

“You don’t need to be nice to me just because you’re worried,” you said, putting the glass and the plate back on the table without finishing the meal; it’s not that you didn’t want to eat, but the hunger just diminished with the way the situation evolved. “I—”

“No, it’s not—”

“Then why now?” You cut Sanji off with a sigh, but interrupted yourself, seeming to reconsider. “I mean, I see, but… Now is not the right time, Sanji. You’re nice and all, but right now isn’t the moment.”

Sanji couldn’t blame you for the annoyance that laced your voice and the sudden change in your demeanor, so he tried to rationalize the situation first to avoid stirring unnecessary problems. He furrowed his eyebrows and looked at the ground, trying to imagine what could be the problem, but the signs you gave were still too vague.

“I… appreciate what you did,” you practically forced the words out while standing up from the chair slowly. It looked like you were going to say something, but you just walked away, leaving that incomplete silence behind that made anxiety crawl under Sanji’s skin. He couldn’t shrug off the guilt that started growing in his chest while watching you leave.

“Hey, no need for that! The glass didn’t do anything to you, man!” Usopp threw his hands in the air lightly when Sanji put a glass on the table with more force than necessary, sending the hollow sound cutting through the galley.

Sanji widened his eyes at Usopp when he saw him there, but soon sighed as he shook his head, grounding himself—he didn’t want anyone to worry about him, or to make a mistake in the recipe. “Maybe it did, you don’t know that,” Sanji breathed with a chuckle in an attempt to lighten up the mood.

Usopp raised his eyebrows and tilted his head. “Keep your secrets, then.” He walked past Sanji with a chuckle, grabbing a clean glass to have some water. “Good night, dude,” he said after he got everything he wanted. “Don’t forget to call God Usopp in case you’re afraid of anything during the night!” He grinned and winked before walking away, and Sanji was thankful he didn’t look back to see the way he rolled his eyes. Sanji liked Usopp, yeah, he just had too much in mind right now, and his plans didn’t include coming off as rude.

Being on the night watch didn’t seem like the best option at first, but Sanji thought better and decided that, if he hadn’t, his night would’ve been resumed to tossing around on the hammock. Cooking helped him clean his mind and get himself together, so that was something, really.

The guilt was still evident in his chest, bothering Sanji just like a misplaced object in a small space. He felt like he was the odd one out, actually, not knowing what to do with himself as he did everything automatically until he almost threw the eggshells inside the bowl instead of the whites and yolks.

“Holy fuck,” Sanji said as he tossed the eggshells inside the trash, cleaning his fingers before he pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a break to breathe in deeply. He was almost finished. He could make it.

Everything was in the fridge or covered, waiting to be finished tomorrow, so Sanji sat at the table out on the deck and pulled out his cooking book after lighting a cigarette. He could at least relax a little while he sipped on a cold drink and checked his notes, feeling the somewhat-comfortable burning in his lungs. It always helped him set his thoughts in order—or at least try to.

There wasn’t much that Sanji could get done. He spent most of his time staring at the pen and trying to get his mind off you because, after all, he didn’t have anything to do with what bothered you. It wasn’t his responsibility nor did it affect him directly, so he shouldn’t be so worried about it. Regarding the minor disagreement, it didn’t matter—you two would get along well again because arguments just happened.

Sanji didn’t know what time it was, but the sea higher and calmer than it was during the day, only illuminated by the already waxing full moon that hung high in the sky, since the ship’s lights weren’t turned on strongly enough to illuminate anything beyond the decks. He wrote a few lines on the yellowish pages, not even finishing the sentence before he caught himself lost in thoughts again. Damn it.

The sudden sound almost made Sanji jump on his chair, but he just used it as an excuse to procrastinate making his notes more, and observed the darkness until someone showed up, and your identity was revealed only when you turned the lights of the galley on, walking in. Sanji’s heart almost jumped out through his throat when he saw you there, and his thoughts raced in an internal debate. Should he approach you? He didn’t know if he could bear once again that face of disappointment that you’d made at him, but the current situation wasn’t very helpful either. He wanted peace of mind.

With a sigh, Sanji stood up. All he could do, initially, was stand in the doorway and watch it as you drank a glass of water, still feeling out of place. When you turned around and tried to leave the kitchen, he couldn’t move either, staring back at you with the words erased from his brain. All he could do was look into your sleepy eyes, trying to identify anything beyond the grumpiness of getting up in the middle of the night. He pressed his lips together, breathing in deeply as he looked at you and decided that this should finally be over.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. No one else was awake, but maybe things would be ruined if he spoke a pitch louder. “I wanted to help you. I didn’t want to see you upset and wanted to help. I know you didn’t ask for it, but please know that there was absolutely no pity in what I did. It was my way of expressing that I’m here for you. If it made you uncomfortable, I can—”

A soft groan came from you as you hugged Sanji and buried your face in his chest. He wasn’t sure what was happening, but he did nothing for a while, just in case, and only hesitantly wrapped his arms around you after he decided you wouldn’t move.

“Thanks.” Your words were muffled against his chest as you practically melted into him. Were you too sleepy? He really didn’t know how to handle this. “I am sorry about the reaction. I didn’t think it through, but thanks anyway.”

Sanji raised his eyebrows as he processed what you said and let out a faint hum, patting your back gently. “It’s okay,” he whispered as he pressed his cheek to your head for a moment, slowly relaxing as he found comfort in your arms. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you replied, a little too quickly. “Nothing is wrong.”

“But—”

“I’m fine.”

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

#one piece #one piece live action #opla #sanji vinsmoke #x reader #x male reader #x female reader #gender neutral #sanji x reader #sanji x male reader #one piece x reader #oneshot #imagine #scenario #fan fic #fan fiction

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bones4thecats · 6 months

Note

Hii can I request Ror Buddha meeting with his wife yasodhara again unexpectedly? Except his wife is the most chillest,nonchalant woman ever. Thank you💕

A/N: Hello there Anon!! I’m guessing you wanted the reader to be themed after his wife Yasodharā, so I did that. I hope this was what you wanted!! Enjoy~~

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

🍭 He left, just up and left you and your infant son without saying a simple goodbye. And it stung, it stung you for the rest of your life. Your son asked about him whenever he found it fitting, in which you just gave him the basic info in which you knew of him at the time, which is rarely, if ever, changed. And until your death, you never saw him again.

🍭 You just enjoyed your afterlife alongside your son and your old close friends until the eldest Valkyrie sister came to speak to you of a battle that was being held against the gods.

🍭 Ragnarok.

🍭 Of course, you refused to fight them, you weren’t fond of getting violent for barely any reason besides keeping humans alive.

🍭 Instead, Brunhilde asked you to oversee the contestants to make sure certain ones didn’t get the wrong ideas. And you agreed, knowing certain ones from the talk around your palace in Valhalla.

🍭 At the time, you were watching the still healing Sasaki and Jack when you heard the announcement coming from Heimdall’s horn down on the battlegrounds. And you would never forget the words that echoed through the land.

“ I’m gonna fight for mankind. Ya dig? “

🍭 They sounded so familiar, yet so distant.

“ If the gods aren’t gonna save mankind, then I will. And if any god gets in my way… I’ll kill ‘em. “

🍭 It was your husband, the one who left you and your son in that palace centuries ago. But you couldn’t think to yourself for long before the obnoxiously loud cries of anger from the gods interrupted said thoughts.

🍭 “What is the matter with you?! Why would you, how could you betray us?!” One yelled.

🍭 Buddha sighed and held the horn up to speak, allowing Heimdall to sigh and stand beside him, giving up from jumping to grab the instrument.

“ I care for my kind, some more than others, even if I never showed it when I should have most. And I’m gonna make up for that here and now, if anyone has a problem with that, well, oh well. ”

🍭 Your heart fluttered, knowing what he had meant.

*Let’s skip for after the fight, as fighting is not my thing to write*

🍭 He was all bruised and bloody, his long hair draped behind his back as the air moved it swiftly away from his face. You stood up and began to run to the healers after he was rushed away, fearing the worst, though you didn;t show it, not wishing to worry your son and fellow humans.

🍭 Seeing his state in the healing room was gut-wrenching, but you knew you needed to do this now, or else you’d regret it like no other time. Knocking on the door, you trudged in after hearing his light ‘come in’.

🍭 It was now or never. And you picked now.

“ Hello there, my dear. ”

🍭 His eyes widened as he turned towards you. Your voice was one he would never forget in millions and millions of years.

🍭 “Y/N? Is that really you?” He asked, eyes straining to stare at your form. You walked carefully to the healing god, a smile spreading farther across your face with each step. You had looked at his face, still youthful as ever.

🍭 He was still your husband.

🍭 “Yes, it is me, love.” You replied.

🍭 He smiled, laughing as he watched you grab the side of his face and hold it towards your’s.

🍭 “You haven’t changed a bit, have you?” He asked.

🍭 “No, and you haven’t either, seeing the stunt you pulled down there, going against the gods and all.” You jokingly answered.

🍭 “Well, we have a lot to catch up on, now don’t we?” Buddha jokes.

“ Yes, my love, we do… ”

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sofiareidings · 7 months

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I'm Not Yours

Summary: You're getting over a breakup and meet a cute guy on a case, what you didn't realise was that your best friend has been waiting for years. Warning: Swearing

A/N: I'm sorry my post is so late!! I had it queued up to post at 9am like normal and then it didn't?? And then I had a math test so I couldn't go on my phone or anything, AND THEN HALF THE STORY JUST DISSAPPEARED SO I HAD TO REWRITE IT?!?!? It has been quite the hassle. Also this was a prompt from @andiebeaword's 3000 follower celebration! The first sentence of the story was the prompt. Also, I meant for this to be gn!reader so if anyone sees any she/he pronouns for reader please tell me! Love you all <333

Word Count: 1.5k

Song Suggestions: Yours - Conan Gray

"I can't stand you choosing another person over me, again."

***

His bright blue eyes shined in the sun, a ray hitting across his face perfectly. Pushing his short brown hair out of his face while smiling at you made your insides flutter, completely forgetting about your ex now.

"So as I was saying, it would be best for you and your team to set up here. There's lots of room and we haven't used it in years." His voice came out in this long, deep tone. JJ walked into the room raising an eyebrow at you before taking over the conversation with the officer.

"What was that look?" Jumping slightly, you turned around and saw Penelope. It was that once a year situation where she actually had to join the rest of the team for a case. "Someone likes the officer."

The girls took any chance they could to get you to talk to the guy. They weren't wrong, you did think he was insanely cute but, you just weren't quite sure if you had the guts to really talk to him.

"I do not!" You laughed, "And even if I did…it's not like anything could happen." Penelope continued pestering and Emily joined the conversation and made sure to give her opinion as well.

***

"You better at least get his number, we're only gonna be here for a few more days." Penelope had been bugging you the most out of anyone, "Well, I let you sit on that thought. I need to go work my wonderful magics so I will talk to you about this later." She smiled and strutted away back to her laptop setup down the hall.

"What was Garcia talking about?" Turning back to the task at hand, Spencer was standing at a board. Working on the case. "Is this about that officer?" His voice was very flat, little emotion which was unusual for him. Especially around you, the two of you had been best friends since you transferred to the BAU.

"Yeah it was, she's trying to get me to get his number." Not turning from his work you started to flip through some files and continue to talk. "I do think he's pretty hot, but I also think it's way too early to start putting myself out there you know?"

"Yeah, yeah I guess I can understand that." Peeking over his shoulder briefly to look at you. Hearing the way you were talking about this guy was leaving him conflicted. The first day he had met you he'd already fallen in love. No statistic or math problem could explain how that happened. He's been sitting on the sideline for the past three years, watching you go from boyfriend to boyfriend, letting him be your shoulder to cry on when it was heartbreak after heartbreak. But honestly, he didn't know how long he could keep going like this.

"...But it could also be some type of fate thing. Like, I break up with a toxic asshole and then meet a dreamy police officer? I don't know, what do you think Spencer?" Walking over to him to put up some photos and thoughts on the board you look up at him, waiting for his response.

"Whatever you think is best I suppose," It took him a long time to respond, the way you were speaking of this guy was just breaking his heart more and more. It was taking all his power to not just scream 'I LOVE YOU!!' and see your reaction. "Do you want to ask him out."

"I think so, I guess he is really nice, and really good looking…" Going on about him a bit more, you paused then changed your thought process. "I mean everything and everyone is telling me to go for it but some small part of me is saying no."

"I think I'm just being paranoid, why shouldn't I put myself out there? It has been like three months. And if it doesn't work out, so what? At least I tried. I think I'll do it." Just like that, the hope died. Should he just say it? Get it out there and hope for the best? This was impossible.

"What does that mean? Are you just not ready to put yourself out there again or is it because there's someone else?" A small glimmer of hope ignited in him, maybe he still had a chance after all.

***

"I'm going to do it. So you can stop annoying me about it, Pen." She smiled and started to ramble about how it will be so good for you. The case had been solved and you were all packing up. Everyone with the exception of Hotch and Rossi were in the room given to the team.

"I'm so glad you're going to do this! You two would be such a sexy pair I just know it." You and Penelope continued to talk, but Spencer was just heartbroken. Standing on the opposite side of the room he could still hear you. He was packing up his things slowly, hoping to get a chance to talk to you alone.

"You should just go for it kid, don't let them get with another guy without you atleast saying it." Derek, giving his opinion to Spencer while leaning against the wall. Tossing a ball now that he was all packed up.

"What if you say something and they like you back?" Derek counter protested. Spencer thought about it for a minute, he had a point. But on the other hand he couldn't tell what would be worse; watching you ask someone else out again or telling you and losing such an important person in his life.

"I know, I just don't want to ruin three years of friendship. What if I say something and they never talk to me again?" He questioned, still listening in on your conversation.

***

"I'll be done in a minute!" You called out to Penelope and Emily. Still packing up your things it was only you and Spencer left in the room.

Finally throwing your bag over your shoulder you started to catch up to the rest of the team you heard Spencer call out to you. "Wait! Can I talk to you for a minute, please?"

"Yeah, of course." A little confused on why he sounded so nervous you stood infront of him, waiting for him to continue. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing it's just," He cleared his throat, no or never. "I was just wondering if you gave that officer your number yet."

"Oh, not yet. I was actually about to do that. Why do you ask?" Titling your head, curious. He started to fidget with his hands, not sure what to say.

"Oh, so you are going out with him." His voice barely above a whisper. "That's nice I suppose."

"Okay…" You smiled and started to head to the door. "I'm going to go now, see on the jet Spencer?"

"I- please, I need to say something." He tripped over his words, come on Spencer, just say it!!!

"Are you okay? You seem nervous." Why was he acting like this? It was so confusing to you.

"Okay, I'm just going to say it." He sighed, "I don't want you to go out with that officer. I mean if you really want to you should do it of course but I don't want you to because I want you to go out with me. If you don't feel the same way tell me but it's just, I can't stand you choosing another person over me, again." Biting the inside of his cheek, waiting for your response.

"Oh," Was all you could say at first. You didn't really know what else to say. "You, you like me?"

"Yeah, I do. And if you don't feel the same way I get it and pretend I never said anything because I don't want to lose you. But if you go out and date this guy I'm going to have to put up a boundary, I'm sorry."

"Spencer, I don't know what to say," You laughed lightly, not sure how to say what you were thinking. "I feel the same way, I just assumed you never would like me back so I have been trying to get over it."

"Really?" He smiled and gave that puppy-dog face he always made. "Are you serious?"

"Why would I lie?" Throwing your bag over your shoulder you hugged him then stepped back giving a small smile. "We should go though, the jet is supposed to leave like now. But can we talk about this later?"

"I would like that." The two of you started to head out, and you completely forgot about the officer. Spencer just walked out with a huge smile on his face. Why didn't he say this sooner???

#criminal minds #sofiareidings #spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #bau #fandom #fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid x you #andies3kwritingcelebration

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romanitas · 1 month

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peers out into the abyss, in the year 2024. dusts off spy au tag after nine (??????) years. anyone still here?? hello. i finally bring more of it. here it is on ao3 if tumblr is rude about it.

It all comes out rather mechanically and professionally, but Annabeth thinks that might make it all worse. She knows there are aspects of her life she isn’t allowed to share, and she avoids details like who exactly she works for. It’s almost like she’s giving a summarizing report to a superior, not a boyfriend. But at the look on his face as she unweaves her life, she realizes she should probably stop thinking of Percy Jackson as her boyfriend. She is an infiltrator who steamrolled her way over his life, and he watches her with a deep undercurrent of hurt and hostility. “I was just supposed to find out more about what was happening with Jason’s dad,” she says, her voice hollow and apologetic. “With the company. I didn’t expect…” Luke and gunshots. Dragging Percy through a dangerous situation when he was only meant to be a window into information. Piper and Jason to be solid, lovely friends. Percy Jackson to arguably be the best relationship she’s ever had.

“I’m sorry.”

Percy’s quiet. He’d stayed quiet the whole time she spoke, graciously allowed her the uninterrupted time to explain herself, even when she knew she hadn’t deserved it. Annabeth feels like she’s standing on glass, but she’s not about to make the next move. He looks at her, then looks around the room, then back at her. Percy is an unexpectedly thoughtful guy, but this level of silence churns her gut. She swears she hears the clock ticking. “So, do you like, not even care about penguins?”

She stares at him, befuddled. “What?” Percy crosses his arms, angrily tapping his fingers against his bicep. “That’s what you talked to me about, when we met. You asked me about penguins.” The fact that he remembered really shouldn’t surprise her. Her face falls; her reply is haphazard. “Everybody cares about penguins.” “Good, because if you lied about penguins on top of everything else, we might really have a problem.” His tone is bitingly sarcastic, a bullet of its own kind, and she flinches, however deserved. “I’m sorry,” she mutters, again. “Annabeth, you lied. About everything. About - about - ” He trails off and throws his hands up in the air, before grabbing his water and chugging about half to cool himself down. She doesn’t really know how much it’ll actually cool him down, but it’s his go-to. “I was going to tell you. That’s why I wanted to meet you - before Luke showed up -” Percy glowers. “Then what? You just - you thought everything would be fine?” She shakes her head. “I didn’t know what! I just knew I had to stop lying!” “Yeah? Took you how many months?” He pauses. “Months. You’ve been pretending to date me for months.” It’s like the reality of that finally, wholly sinks in for him, and his anger flashes with heartbreak heavy enough to punch her own. She can’t even reach out to him. The urge is there, but she restrains it, knowing full well she’s lost the privilege of touching him. “It was my job, Percy,” she says after a moment, a weak attempt at some sort of defense she knows won’t hold up. “You’re not even an architect.” He says it like that surprises him most of all, but she supposes she had been rather passionate about it. She knows as much about design as she does intelligence. “No,” she admits, then admits something else not many people do know. “But I almost was.” He looks at her again, with regret, anger, and even a sort of empathy she doesn’t think she deserves. “I watched you shoot someone.” Her demeanor betrays her, as she feels her eyes well up. “I had to.” “I know,” he says quietly, frowning. He closes his eyes and turns away from her, pressing his hands against the kitchen counter and leaning against it, like somehow it’s another realization that hammers in the reality of his girlfriend.

Annabeth uses the brief respite to furiously wipe at her eyes. She doesn’t know how to salvage this. She wants to, badly. She’s simultaneously done one of the best and worst jobs she’s ever been assigned. Discovering Luke changed the game. Falling in love with Percy altered her life entirely.

It takes a few minutes, but Percy finally turns back around to look at her. He watches her like she’s a stranger despite the knowing flicker to his eyes. He knows a lot about her, the side of her that isn’t a spy, the side of her she sometimes wishes could be present more often. But she is a spy too, and part of the job description includes sabotage. She’s always been very good at that. She’s just never sabotaged herself before.

“I told you I loved you,” he says, and that hurts most of all, because it sounds like he doesn’t believe it. Like he can’t believe he’d gone and fallen for her, that he played right into her hands.

Her expression shatters. “I know,” she says, the words catching. She has to tell him now, because she doesn’t know if she’ll get another chance. It’s a ruinous confession but there’s no escaping it. “And I - I fell in love with you too, Percy. I wanted to tell you so badly.”

He looks gobsmacked. “How? When it was all just - just bullshit to you?”

Annabeth shakes her head. “No. It wasn’t. It might have started that way, but -”

“How am I supposed to believe that, Annabeth? How can I possibly know anything you say to me is going to be the truth at this point? I just watched you - watched you take on some guy, shoot him in the leg, and work with a whole team of super spies, and now you’re here trying to tell me you love me?” He almost sounds desperate to believe it himself. Like he doesn’t want to not love her. He runs a hand through his hair, and Annabeth doesn’t know what to say to any of that. “Fuck. Jason and Piper, they trusted you too.”

“I -”

His face darkens. “I introduced you to my mom.” He whirls on her, eyes hard. “Is my mother safe?”

Annabeth nods immediately, and the look he gives her might be the worst one yet. “I had a team check on her apartment. And someone’s watching outside, just to be sure.”

Relief washes over him, but anger still bubbles under the surface. Maybe she never should have gone to meet Sally. Maybe this wouldn’t be happening now, because somehow it feels like Sally Jackson is one of the pieces that made everything feel more real. But that’s wishful thinking, because there was no future with Percy Jackson in the cards under the circumstances in which she first came into his life to begin with. She foolishly allowed herself to feel like maybe there could be - like the laughing and the cuddling and the smiling and the happiness that swarmed inside her could be genuine, if she let go of so many other pieces. If she stopped being a liar.

Luke always did bring out the worst in her, but she doesn’t even know if she can wholly blame him. Percy’s reaction to the truth was doomed to exist, no matter how she admitted herself to him. Perhaps they were doomed from the start too. She knows that. She just wishes she didn’t know that.

“It explains some things,” Percy says slowly, like he doesn’t want to say it at all. “I guess I tried to ignore them. I really wanted this to work. I’ve never met anyone like you before.”

“You’re one of the best people I’ve ever met. I don’t want to lie to you anymore, Percy.”

His face is crestfallen. “And I feel like I don’t even know who you are, Annabeth.”

He looks at her for a very, very long time. Annabeth doesn’t keep track. She’s run out of things to say, run out of excuses, run out of apologies, and Percy looks burnt out on his anger. He’s cradling it, afraid to let go, but tired of holding it.

He deflates. “I can’t…”

Annabeth swallows. Waiting. It feels like something of an end.

“Get out. Just go, please.”

She does.

#percy jackson #annabeth chase #percabeth #heroes of olympus #i don't even know what the kids are using for tags these days #is it still only the first five????#spy auing #tomato writes #god i havent posted in so long i have no idea if this looks ok formatting wise i guess let me know and i can fix it #the new post editor sucks

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bidisasterevankinard · 3 months

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Inspirational Saturday

hi everyone, I was barely active cause mental health is a bitch and I wasn't writing for days, but today i finally broke this block and started a new wip I named "please, stop twisting knife(never wanted to cause your pain)" where Eddie is going to be engaged to a wrong guy for a moment and date this guy for longer moment, not seeing how he destroys his and Buck's friendship (Buck's insecurities and Eddie the king of denial Diaz are gonna be in the fic for long time) I was tagged today by @monsterrae1 <33 meet the moodboard and 966 words of angst I wrote cause I wasn't posted for a moment

“I still don't know how I can help choose the ring for the guy I met like …,” Buck tries to remember all the situations he was with Alec at least in one room, “3 times? And let's not forget he is not my biggest fan,” Buck says, trying to sound casual. But everyone in the shop, except Eddie, looks strange at him. “Don’t you think Chris, Pepa, Hen, Karen, Chim or Maddie, Bobby or Athena, hell even Ravi, could be a better choice? They at least know him.”

“And he would not be angry with you for spending time with them. Them not me,” is left unspoken, but Buck has to bite his lip hard not to let it slip from him.

Buck turns away from Eddie, who looks so beautiful and joyful admiring rings. His face has this pure happiness and smile, Buck would be drinking like crazy, like the most thirsty man alive, seeing the purest water, if it wasn’t the face Eddie has because he wants to marry someone else. The guy who made them strangers. Even if Eddie keeps trying to deny it.

They are not family. They do not have movie nights or dinners, or even fucking calls and texts between them. Buck, thank god to Chris’ stubbornness, has it only with a boy. Mostly calls or texts, of course, because dinners or movies are barely even possible in between Buck’s shifts, Chris' school and social life. Plus to it Eddie and Alec’s attempt to create a family by constantly having family activities, and Buck left behind so easily.

He is just a memory now. And he always would remember who he was all those years. Temporarily replacement of a missing part for the third member of Diaz household, while Eddie was getting ready to find someone to be permanent. While he was getting ready to let someone take this place to never leave again.

Really, Buck is not even surprised he was so easily replaced. Just some words from Alec about him wanting Eddie to spend less time with Buck, Buck saying yes man, no problem, and now they are here. Him being not even a friend for Eddie. But just a guy who he still works with.

Eddie can deny it how he wants, but they are not friends anymore. They are closer to being strangers than friends.

Isn’t it the most painful of all of this situation?

Buck thought he had Eddie on his side forever, but he lost him too fast. He couldn’t even say a word because Eddie is happy. And why shouldn't he be?

He has an amazing partner and the best teenager in the world as a family. They are adopting the cat soon. Eddie and Alec want to buy a house together because they started to talk about a new kid in the future, and they just want more space for their family. Family where Buck would not have any place because he is not wanting here by big part. And he wouldn’t even try to make Alec angry trying to be here.

Just the thought that he knows all about Eddie’s plans for the future from someone, not from him, makes Buck sick, like someone twisting the knife into his guts, so he tries to concentrate on the rings the seller shows them.

At least about the engagement he found out from Eddie.

But Buck wishes to hear it from anyone else. Seeing Eddie’s face today, when the knocks on his door was too long and too exciting, almost screaming in Buck’s face how he needed to find the perfect ring right now and Buck should help him, destroyed part of his heart he considered dead for weeks, maybe even months, to never be recovered ever again.

He felt and still feels the sharp blade opening his back, cutting out his lungs to get to his heart, sticking and leaving the knife in his almost non-beating organ.

Buck can’t stop thinking, if he would be staying alive a little longer after lighting, would it feel the same, or would a heartbreak by the man who had your heart in his hands for years be way worse? Should Buck buy the suit for his funeral and not Eddie’s wedding?

“Yeah, I could ask them, but it would make no sense to buy the ring with them as they are not my best friend and not gonna be my best man,” Eddie grins at him sheepishly and Buck just forces the smile he perfected for years, making people believe he is fine.

He never used it with Eddie.

“Best friends, huh? What I was doing for the last nine months, Eddie? What books have I read? What movies have watched? Who is my celebrity crush of the week? A year ago you would answer easily. Now you don’t even know I’m moving to the house I bought some weeks ago.”

It rushes through his brain, making Buck hate himself for being petty and not staying truthful to his words to always have Eddie’s back, even though he knows for Eddie it means nothing now, but not for him.

For him it was a vow he takes with him to grave. So he presses his little overgrown nails so deep into the skin of his palm that he almost feels like cutting through the skin, and says, “I’m proud to be your best man. Let’s try to choose the perfect ring.”

Buck swallows blood in his mouth from all the organs being crushed and chopped into bloody soup inside him when Eddie just smiles like he can’t see - and Buck hates that he actually can’t, that Eddie never saw him - how he breaks him and shows Buck two rings he likes the most.

tagging @wikiangela @tizniz @wildlife4life @watchyourbuck @exhuastedpigeon @elvensorceress @eddiebabygirldiaz @rainbow-nerdss @rogerzsteven @the-likesofus @thewolvesof1998 @theotherbuckley @transboybuckley @underwater-ninja-13 @puppyboybuckley @paranoidbean @pirrusstuff @anakinfallen @spaceprincessem @spotsandsocks @spagheddiediaz @devirnis @daffi-990 @diazsdimples @fortheloveofbuddie @gaydiaz @giddyupbuck @heartshapedvows @hippolotamus @honestlyeddie @honestlydarkprincess @hoodie-buck @housewifebuck @jeeyuns @jesuisici33 @ladydorian05 @loserdiaz @caroandcats @bigfootsmom @bekkachaos @buddierights @mandzuking17 @malewifediaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @ghost-cowboy @911onabc and anyone who wants

#tell me you cried please tell me you cried #why do you think there is three rings btw?#fic: please stop twisting knife(never wanted to cause your pain)#my wips #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #evan buck buckley #911

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euphoricimagination · 7 months

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Part 2: You finally enter the infamous project, meeting your new 'teammates' as you play your first match

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Mastelist

A letter has arrived into your household, the name Japan Football Union on the front of it, with the details about the whole Blue Lock project you had agreed on.

By now you had already cut your hair into a more boyish cut, had been provided with the necessary stuff to hide your chest and a good backstory in case someone saw you with it on. And while you didn't look exactly like a boy, it was good enough to fool people.

You're now inside of the Japanese Football Union building, a bunch of boys already there when you entered. You shouldn't have worried that much, there are some here that were more on the pretty side rather than masculine.

"Congratulations, you unpolished lumps of talent, according to my judgment, the 300 of you are the best strikers under 18" Ego starts saying, making you scoff at how theatrical he was being. A pair of purple eyes look in your direction, giving you an amused look at your bored expression

"What, bored already?" He asks you, making his white haired friend look at you too

"He talks too much" you answered vaguely enough, as Ego starts debating with one of the participants. The purple hair dude chuckles while the white hair one just looks at you

"That I can't deny. I'm Mikage Reo, this is Nagi Seishiro, who are you?" He asks you

"Yn" you say simply, bowing slightly. THE Mikage Reo? The son of the biggest corporation in Japan?

"Isn't that a girls name?" Reo asks again, lifting his eyebrow

"My parents liked the name too much to give it up, i guess" you shrugged your shoulders just on time as a dude with black hair starts running towards the door, a bunch of them following right behind. You look at Ego, who had a creepy smile, and sigh "see you inside, i guess"

"Wait" Reo takes your arm "Don't tell you agree with that bastard?"

"Meh, it's better than nothing. You don't have to enter though, it's your decision after all" i say letting go of his hand, bowing slightly as i start walking away calmly. You can see Nagi trying to leave and Reo trying to convince him to stay as you pass down Ego.

"Keep an eye on him, that Isagi Yoichi has guts" Ego mutters as you pass him, making you nod.

When you enter Room Z there's already two people there, a sleeping one that had already changed and one with long red hair. You bow to the red hair one and move to your locker, wanting to change quickly before anyone else comes in

"What's that?" The red hair asks beside you, looking at your chest where the binder covered in some loose bandages was on "why are you wearing that?"

"I had some health problems, so I had to use this…" you say unaffected

"Really? Wouldn't this make it more difficult to breathe?" Asks curious

"I got used to it" you shrugged as you put the shirt on "What? Are you gonna judge me now?"

"Nah, just curious. I'm Chigiri Hyoma" he extends his hand, you took it and shake it, trying to look as confident as he did

"Yn, nice to meet you" you say and he nods, acknowledging you. You luckily finished changing when more boys started to arrive in the room, so you went to the wall to rest there until whatever Ego had planned starts. The last one to arrive was the same dude that entered first, Isagi Yoichi you presume.

After everyone is done changing, you hear the screen behind you start making noise, Ego appearing on the screen.

"Hi.hi. the others in your room are your roommates and your rivals who will push each other higher, I've already rank your abilities, that's the number you have in your uniform" he says, making everyone look at their arm sleeve, your number was the highest of the people near you "That ranking will change by the day and will go up or down depending on training and games. Finally, those in the top five will unconditionally be registered for the u-20 world cup happening six months from now"

You look surprised just like everyone else in the room, you gotta give it to Ego, he had a great plan. And even though you probably won't be able to participate, it even makes your heart excited at that.

"Time for some tag" Ego announces as a ball drops down into a bald kid, who immediately goes after Isagi

"This is ridiculous, I can't see how this game is "Top Training", I'm only participating to prove him wrong" says Kira, the kinda famous kid.

Luckily for you, you just had to dodge here and there, the ball concentrating mostly on Isagi, the bald dude and Kira. At some point the dude that was sleeping, Bachira according to the prompter, sends the ball a little too long when Kira moves to a different side, coming straight to you. You sensed Isagi's will to change, his aura changing completely after he tried to go for Kira, so you took the ball and sent it to him with only mere seconds to spare.

POW!

The ball sounds against Kira's face as the time runs out, Isagi effectively eliminating him. So that's why Ego told you to keep an eye on him, he definitely had the spirit that Ego was looking for.

"Good work, you lumps of talent, results are everything here, now get our loser! Ryosuke Kira!" Ego says appearing on the TV again, making Kira go on a rampage about how useless all this games were "In blue lock everything is related to soccer, take a good look around, you mediocre elite"

"The size of the room is the same size as the penalty area, right?" you say out loud, making a few of the other players surprised as Ego confirms your words "after all, that's the space where strikers work the most"

"SO WHAT? I GET THE SIZE OF THE ROOM, BUT PLAYING TAG ISN'T SOCCER!" he screams at you, rage in his eyes

"I mean…to tag someone requires a great ability to aim and shoot, which is needed if you want to score" you continue adding, his face still furious as Ego continues explaining how he lost. He then leaves the room annoyed, making Isagi come to where you were

"Why? Why did you pass it to me? If i hadn't kicked it then you would have lost!!" He says to you

"But you wanted to kick it" you answered simply as an arm passes around your shoulder, Bachira joining in the conversation

"Yeah, your face said so!" Bachira says to Isagi, then turning to you "Nice cover, by the way, I didn't think he would move at the last second!"

"But.."

"Results are everything here, right? Then we won by trusting you!" Bachira says, making you nod

"Congratulations, you've passed the entrance test!" Ego says from the monitor "the eleven of you will share a common destiny, sometimes you'll cooperate, sometimes you'll betray each other, now you are blue lock Team Z"

+++

3 days have passed since that entrance test, and an intensive training is now in place. Luckily for you, you have managed to hide your body from them quite easily, you woke up a bit earlier to change clothes and went to have a quick bath when everyone else was in the dorms ready to sleep. You didn't know if you were that good of a liar or they were just oblivious.

You were running in the treadmill alongside Kunigami and Chigiri when you noticed Isagi practicing his jumps, so far everything you've seen him do has been…mediocre at best

"Huh? Why does Ego like him so much?" You mutter to yourself. The same day where Kira was eliminated Ego has called you briefly to his office, telling you one more time that you needed to see if Isagi Yoichi had the capabilities to become the best striker…so far you have nothing positive to report

"Eh? What did you say?" Kunigami answers breathing hardly, understandably considering you were running at almost 20 kph*

"Nothing, just cursing Ego" you say, receiving a light laugh from Kunigami

"You know, you're more athletic than i thought you'd be" Chigiri says now, talking for the first time

"Yeah, you have a tiny frame, I'm surprised how you can keep up with us" adds Kunigami, making you raise your eyebrow "no offense, of course"

"Whatever, you do realize that my rank is higher than both of you, right?" You say with a small smirk

"Eh?! You're right! How's that even possible?! You're smaller than me!"

"Don't know, figure it out yourself" you say raising the speed a tad more, making the two other boys groan in frustration "C'mon, you can't be this tired already, we still have like ten more minutes to reach the usual 90 ones of a match"

"You're a monster, Yn-kun, a monster" Kunigami says as he raise his speed too "but I'm not losing to you"

You planned on having dinner alone, around this time you didn't have much physical movement, so you could ditch the binder for a more relaxed way to hide your chest, however it didn't make you less paranoid. That's why you much rather eat alone, so you could avoid any questions in case anyone noticed, and things were going well until a small bumblebee decided to raid your meal

"Ehh?! You have curry? No fair" Bachira whines as he sits besides you, a plate with to rice and chicken sitting in front of him

"I didn't think we will have different meals just because of 1 level difference" you say

"I know, right? I want some curry too!!" He says looking at your plate with want

"Don't you dare to touch it" you warn him, making him whine loudly again. You sigh, slightly annoyed at the boy "fine, we can share, better?"

"Yay! Thanks Yn-kun!" He says taking some curry to his plate "you know, I noticed the other day that you wear some bandages around your chest, are you okay?" He asks, making you almost choke on your drink

"I am, I just had..some small health issues"

"Do you have a scar? Can I see-?!" He asks

"No!" You cut him quickly "No, it's…something I'm not comfortable sharing"

"Ahh, well okay, it's fine. I was just curious" he smiles as he continues eating, not pressing any further "then Yn-kun, why did you pass that ball to Isagi-kun? Why didn't you shoot yourself?"

"I just felt Isagi-kun aura, didn't you noticed? He was in the zone" you explained "Isn't that the same reason you wanted to pass to him too? Because you knew he was going to shoot no matter what?"

"Well, yeah. Passing it to him felt right, but of course Kira-Kun had to move too. Do you also hear a monster when you play?"

"A monster? No…i just play however it feels nice" that's definitely an interesting take, a monster? What kind of weird bunch did Ego invite?

"Well, I like your play style too! You're definitely one of the top players here, let's practice together one day!"

"Sure, one day" you say smiling at him as he continues eating

The next day Ego calls you to the main room, and basically explained what you already knew about the plan, how team Z was the worst one of the bunch and all that

"... Whoever is best at soccer here is king, if you want a nice life, then win and boost yourselves. Now let's begin blue lock first selection. It's a tournament for the 5 teams, after the final match, only the top 2 teams will be selected. It's a survival match"

The moment everyone heard this they started babbling about their positions, everyone here was a forward, and now suddenly they had to play different positions if they wanted to survive and become the best striker. As Ego finishes talking everyone is left in a confusing state, will anyone even want to give up being a forward? You knew you couldn't just take it, while you were a good player, your job here was to help them achieve that dream, you probably won't even last until the second selection anyway.

"So… rock, paper, scissors?" You ask first

"Yeah, that seems fai-"

"Ehh!? Why do you get to decide that?! We should do it by strength instead!"

"Raichi, stop. Yn-kun is right, rock, paper, scissors is the fairest way to decide" Kunigami says stopping Raichi, who just mumbles an agreement. Everyone just agrees, starting to play

"Oh, i won" says Isagi, you also won the second place, so you had an early choosing opportunity, and Bachira was third

"Okay, so Isagi-kun chooses first, then Yn-kun, and like that down the line" Kuon explain, he was like the captain of the team

"Then i want to be a forward" says Isagi, Kuon writing down the position as Raichi scoffs

"I'll be a defender then" you say boringly when you feel an arm around your shoulders

"Ehh? Yn-kun, you are one of the best players here, why would you be a defender?" Bachira asks you

"He's right, you have crazy speed, your stamina is good too, you should be at least a right winger" as Kunigami "it wouldn't make sense if you are a defen-"

"Eh?! Are you looking down on us, you small fry?!" Raichi says to you, making you roll your eyes

"Well, I'll put Yn-kun as a right winger then" says Kuon, writing down your name in the notebook

"That's good! I'll be the other forward to then!" Bachira keeps the conversation going, with the other players ranting about how the good positions were already taken. It surprised you, honestly, you knew you were a good player in comparison to the rest of the girls, since you used to only play with boys growing up, but being considered an equal to these much taller and muscular dudes was something you never even tried to imagine.

Finally the match was about to start, you were putting the vest on.

"Isagi-kun won a chose to be center forward so let's focus our strategy around him" Kuon remind you

"Yeah" both you and Bachira answer, making you smile at each other. Bachira has been the one member you got closer the fastest

"Isagi-kun" you call him when you notice him thinking "relax, you can only go higher from here"

"Yeah, thanks" Isagi says

"We just have to win, right? Easy" Raichi says stretching

The match was against team X, one dude with spiked hair was the only one that grabbed the attention out of all.

The match starts with Bachira passing to Isagi; however, even before he was able to confront the other team, Raichi took the ball for himself, and before anyone could react, everyone was trying to get the ball to themselves. To be expected really, after the whole talk about having to be egoist to be a proper striker nobody would have just…obey. Everything was chaos until the one dude from Team X, Barou if you heard correctly by the cheers, took the ball and made a goal by himself.

Not one, not two, but five goals. Team Z was losing 5 to 0.

"Ahh we're just running in circles" Bachira says looking at the clock "there's no way we can get five points in 3 minutes..but"

"We can at least get one" you say, making Bachira look at you knowingly before looking at Isagi

"Yeah, the 3 of us can recover at least one, wanna try, Isagi-kun?"

"...Yeah"

"Bachira-kun and I will draw the attention, you shoot Isagi-kun" you say with Bachira nodding as he says, your job was to bring out the talent of the players, so that's what you'll do.

"Run, Isagi, we'll meet in front of the goal"

With that Bachira passes to Isagi, who passes almost immediately to you so you could start moving. You were able to pass one doing a nutmeg, passing the ball unexpectedly through his legs, while passing another one by just running a bit faster right before passing back to Bachira, who also passes three dudes before sending it to Isagi.

Isagi manages to get close to the goal; however the number 10 of Team X, Barou, cuts him off from scoring. You run towards the goal yourself when that happens, making the other team mark you as well, when suddenly the ball comes into your field of view, Isagi has passed the ball for you to shoot.

You instinctively take the ball, and despite having a good 70 meters between you and the goal, you do a powerful shot and make the first and only goal for team Z.

And despite absolutely being demolished by the other team, despite the sudden pass, despite mot being able to breathe properly because of your binder, despite that the only reason you were even here was to help the others score, you couldn't help to feel the need for more, to score again and again, to become better even when you were not supposed to.

"Hey! Yn-kun! Nice goal!" Says Bachira to you as you walk towards the lockers, giving you a high five

"Yeah, you were amazing Yn-kun" adds Isagi, giving you another high five

"Thanks Isagi, Bachira. But why did you pass to me? Was it because of that dude?" You ask Isagi

"I don't know how to explain it, it was unconscious, you just seemed with more opportunity to score"

He says a bit down as you enter the lockers, moving to sit down with a towel on his head while you clean your sweat with a towel. You ignored the rest of the team as they fought, an unconscious pass? Could it be that he's a natural playmaker? If he doesn't know why he passed the ball then that's the most likely reason why.

"... We're one loss away from the end!" You hear Kuon say, making the rest question him whether he had some plan or not

"Well" you hear Kunigami say "that goal that Yn-kun made couldn't have been done without Bachira and Isagi, right?

"Yeah, I'm sure we can come up with something if we start with that" you add as Raichi starts yelling again. You were still breathing hard when you noticed Bachira naked in front of everyone, so you ignored him hoping that your face wouldn't blush.

You kept ignoring the rest of the team as you focused on your body, your chest was hurting, but that was to be expected considering that you ran for 45 minutes without being able to have a full breath. You thought that your practice was more than enough, but clearly things were different on a real match

"I don't think everything that Ego is saying is true" Chigiri says going to the refrigerator, throwing you a drink as he took one for himself "I mean, he said this is to win the world cup and he was talking about world-class strikers like Ronaldo, Messi, and Cantona, but not all of them have won the world cup, but he did say ‘this is a battle to rebuild soccer from zero’. I think that might be some kind of hint"

"Oi, are you okay?" You hear Kunigami ask you

"Yeah, I'm fine" you say gaining your breath properly

"Why don't you just take off that chest thing you use?" Asks Chigiri, making Kunigami look at both of you confused

"I…I can't, I just need to get used to it" you say as you drink the energy drink "it'll take a few more matches though"

"I don't know what you're talking about, but you did good today Yn-kun, that was a good goal"

And before you could answer Kunigami the TV behind you starts sounding, Ego appearing on it.

"Howdy, you lumps of talent, the second match of wing 5 has already finished. Team V crushed Team Y 8-0 so here are the current standing"

He then proceeds to explain how soccer works, why he wants this new revolution of soccer to happen and how strikers are the ones that can make this revolution happen. As you hear him talk you couldn't help to think how crazy this whole plan was, even though you pretty much heard everything he was saying once you agreed to do this.

"ACHIEVING THE REVOLUTION KNOWN AS A ‘GOAL’ CAN ONLY BE DONE WITH YOUR OWN WEAPONS!!"

Weapons, huh? That makes sense, if these boys don't know how to properly use and improve their talents, weapons as Ego called them, they won't get too far either here or in their soccer career.

"Yn-kun, we're gonna go shower, you coming?" Asks Kunigami as he and Chigiri stand up and start taking their clothes off, you really have to adapt to this fast if you don't want to stand out.

"Not yet, I wanted to get some practice done first, go ahead" you say as you stand up stretching

"Okay, don't overexert yourself" Chigiri adds as they both leave. You exchange some words with both Bachira and Isagi until you part ways, them going to the dorm while you waste time until all of them leave the bathroom area so you could shower at peace.

You were walking towards the practice area when you noticed Anri standing in the door, visibly waiting for someone

"Yn-chan, thank God you're here fast" she tells you when you approach her "Ego wants a reunion with you, let's go, you can wash up yourself there too, there's a private bathroom"

"Okay, what for though?"

"Not sure, but it's Ego we're talking about here"

She leads you to the apartment Ego was living in, a few floors above where the project was happening. You loosen up your binder on the way there, now being able to breathe properly until you have to face your team again.

"Yn-chan, come in, come in" Ego says as he starts preparing some ramen. You sit down on the table waiting for him when your stomach rumbles too "Anri-chan make her something"

"You could ask nicely, you know?" The woman says making you a bowl of ramen too "This is all he eats, Yn-chan, sorry it can't be more filling"

"It's alright, it's a nice change from curry" you says smiling at the woman as she sets the bowl in front of you, already ready. You don't really think twice as you start to dig in, Ego looking at you as he eats himself.

"So Yn-chan, nice goal back there" he says with a tone that left you wondering if it was a compliment or not "Although i would have much rather to see someone else scoring"

"Ego-san!"

"It's alright Anri-san. Isagi-kun passed it to me, it would have been weird if i didn't try to shoot, wouldn't it? After all, you were the one doing the whole talk that you needed to be an egoist and make goals" you say grabbing more noodles, an unfazed look in your face

"True, but do you think that helped them?"

"Yeah, somewhat. Some of them are still trying to understand what you meant by creating soccer from 0, so i think the combo that Isagi-kun, Bachira-kun and I did is a good start for them" You say as you drink some of the soda that Anri passed you "Although admittedly I wasn't thinking any of that at the time, I just wanted to score"

"Well, if anything your ego will make others want to improve too. What do you think of Isagi-kun so far? He passed instead of trying to score after all"

"He said the pass was unintentional, that he just felt I could score at that time. He probably has some spacial awareness and he doesn't know it yet, not everyone can just make that decision in the middle of a game" you add, thinking back at the pass from Isagi, he clearly was trying to score instead

"Well, he sounds more like a mild fielder if that's the case, so he needs to figure out how to use it as a striker. Help him find that out Yn-chan"

"Yes sir" says as you finish the food

"The rest seem to be in good shape, they just need to get used to this. Make sure to not lose again, Yn-chan, it's too early to leave"

"Yes sir" you say, however you can't help but wonder "Sir…why do you want me to help Team Z so badly?"

"Because I can sense that some of them can become amazing once they wake up, but they lack someone in the team that can help them get that instinct and nurture it. That's it"

"I thought you'd want them to figure it out in their own"

"And they still have to do that, you just need to give them some hints. You may leave now" you stand up and bow as Anri passes you a towel and some clothes before pointing where the private bathroom was.

"Ego-san, are you sure this was a good idea?" Anri asks Ego once both of them are alone. Ego smiles as he checks the recordings in his TV's from the goal you made and the faces of your teammates

"I'm sure that she can make this diamonds in the rough bloom" he focuses on Isagi face, smiling in excitement "she'll make sure to do it"

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