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eureka-its-zico · 9 months

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Chaos in Their Bones Ch. 4

Ongoing Series

Synopsis: All your life you’d listened to your friend, Usopp spin wild tales about pirates and adventure. Pirates weren’t a thing that came often to Syrup Village, but one straw hat pirate and his crew changed all that the day they arrived. Now, you aren’t so sure if your sleepy little village was always pirate-free or if no one had been paying attention.

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Genre: friends to lovers, frenemies to lovers, slow burn (I hope y’all like aching) eventual smut

Words: 8.7+

A/N: This chapter is mostly filler from 1.04-1.05. This chapter also, once again has a POV from Zoro. I kept going through my options of what I could do to possibly give these two idiots more alone time and this was the result. The beginning, and introduction, of Sanji begins right at Chapter 5 and I already have too many ✨ideas ✨ that I know what to do with. Also, I did add in Zoro working out. It’s a brief mention, but I just found it weird he didn’t have any of those scenes (probably for damn good reason). As always, thank you guys for all the love and support. I hope you all continue to enjoy this story🖤 Much Love, Jenn

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Previous Next

“I don’t know, Doc. You’re starting to look a little pale.”

“And green.”

You’d been hugging the side of this particular railing since you’d sailed out of port. It was your first time ever on a ship and it wasn’t going too great. You’d heard about seasickness and even had sailors come asking for Naan’s Elfroot to chew to stem the tide while they were out at sea. You always thought they were being ridiculous. How bad could it be?

Well, if your dry heaving was any indication - pretty bad. Of course, Zoro just had to make it worse.

You glanced up from looking at the water that was gently tapping the side of the boat to the growing bane of your existence. One hand was tucked into the pocket of his jeans while the other rested on the hilt of his swords. He looked effortlessly cool as he watched you with - was that a smirk?

He’d changed into a yellow shirt with fine detailing of gray lines running horizontally and vertically, which matched perfectly with his gray pants.

Zoro was more of a fashionista than he’d let on.

“It’s just the reflection of your hair,” you shot back at him.

You could feel the next wave of nausea thrashing around in your stomach and you prayed you could keep it down. You were going to lose more cool points if you hurled again. Zoro squinted over the sun's rays to regard your current state. He must have been able to tell you were 0.2 seconds from hurling because, instead of replying, he simply twirled his finger indicating for you to turn around.

You did as he instructed, but made sure to follow it up with a middle finger salute.

“Man, you two always like this? You just met.” Usopp asked.

Usopp tried doing the dotting friend routine by patting you a few times, awkwardly, on your back. It felt more like he was trying to get a burp out of you than soothe you.

“It’s because they like each other.”

Nami pranced out of the galley and chose violence. It only took both you and Zoro to register her words before you both shouted:

“I don’t like her.”

“I hate him!”

Nami wrapped her arms around herself as she looked you both over. A devious smile tilting the edges of her mouth and you had to look away before it turned into the shit eating grin you’d come to expect.

“I’m sure you both do,” she teased.

You wanted to prove to her that you meant it. Zoro would be the last person you would say you liked, like- like that. The man was literally the biggest pain in the ass you’d ever met.

“Usopp,” you croaked, “can you get my bag, please.”

“I’m on it, Doc.”

At the sound of his feet hitting the deck, a groan of discomfort resonated in your chest. How could anyone think that sailing was fun? This felt like the absolute worst.

When you first entered the Going Merry you couldn’t believe how beautiful it was. You’d heard Usopp tell you stories since he cleaned it everyday. It was as finely crafted as he’d described, and the white ashwood against the walnut was a stark contrast but complemented each other beautifully. There wasn’t another ship like the Going Merry and a one-of-a-kind ship should belong to someone as extraordinary as Luffy.

The minute you’d cast off into the giant blue you’d almost panicked. What if this was a mistake? You’d never been out in open water before nor had you ever left Syrup village. This could either be one of the greatest adventures of your life or a disaster. The only thing that kept you from flinging yourself over the side and swimming back was when you’d walked the stern and the glint of the sun shone down on the water.

The sun’s rays illuminated the water like light reflecting off a crystal glass. One minute it was the deepest blue. The color was solid enough that your reflection was easy to see and in a matter of seconds after a ray of light touched its water, it took on a cornflower hue that made the water translucent.

You’d been able to admire it for all of three seconds before you were embarrassing yourself over the port bow.

“I’m back, Doc,” Usopp spoke softly as he placed a soft hand on your shoulder. He lightly tapped the bag against your hands to try and coax you to grab it. “Do you need me to get you water or anything?”

“Water is not going to help. It’ll make it worse.”

You thought he was trying just to be his usual monotoned “Hi, I’m Zoro and I could care less,” self, but when you finally peeled your forehead off your forearm and looked at him he wasn’t even looking at either of you. He was curled up, like a lazy cat, against a couple of crates with his eyes closed and faced tilted towards the sun. With his hands infamously stuffed inside his pockets.

“It would?”

You nodded your head only once in recognition before you started searching through your bag. Your hands started scrambling inside it a soft, “No,no,” building into a frenzy before you stopped searching.

“I’m guessing your magic little root isn’t in there.”

Zoro was still sitting without a care while you felt like you wanted to throw yourself overboard.

“No. It isn’t.”

Mental note: Ask Luffy to stop at Irkhaven Isle to get supplies.

Suddenly, Zoro stood in one graceful motion and walked off towards the galley.

Ass.

You turned back to the Going Merry’s railing and held on tight. Your stomach felt like you’d swallowed glass and got punched, it was so empty. Another groan was building in your chest when a cold bottle touched the back of your arm.

The coolness to your skin sent a yelp of surprise from you, and sent you whirling to the presence beside you. Zoro was leaning back against the railing, looking as calm as ever, with a beer extended out between you.

“Isn’t it a little bit too early to be drinking?”

He rolled his eyes as he switched positions. He was now mimicking your current position against the rail but looked effortless and was still holding that damn beer out to you.

“It’s for you.”

“For me? Zoro, I don’t think now is the time to be drinking-“

“Just drink it,” he growled, an obvious annoyance replacing his earlier calm.

What hell, what was a beer going to do? At most, it would at least give your stomach something to actually throw up instead of dry heaving yourself into a six pack.

You reached out and took it from him. Zoro continued to watch you as you placed the bottle to your lips, waiting for you to take a sip.

“Could I get some privacy here?”

Zoro rolled his eyes but did as you asked looking off into the southside of the ship. You took that moment to take a long pull from the bottle. Surprisingly, it was damn good beer. You waited for the bitter aftertaste to kick in, but found it replaced with the tang of citrus. You immediately took another drink and another. It wasn’t until you were halfway to the middle of the bottle that you noticed the ship had been rocked a few times by the waves and yet…

You went to turn your attention back to Zoro and found him already staring at you.

I am not blushing.

You turned quickly to look back out at the ocean with both arms leaning over the railing as you took in the picturesque view. You couldn’t believe beer was making your sea sickness disappear. Out of your peripherals you waited for him to turn away from you. Unable to say it to his face as you played with the label that was peeling off from condensation.

Alcohol. It was brilliant. You were sure your body was still feeling sick, but the depressant in the beer wasn’t allowing those receptors to acknowledge it. Tilting the bottle at him you asked, “How’d you know this would work.”

“It’s how I survived all my boat trips. Old guy I’d met aboard my first ship when I was seventeen taught me that trick.”

“Is that why you have so much booze? Cause you have a weak stomach?”

Your question came off worse than you intended. You genuinely weren’t trying to insult him. He’d just helped you. Zoro has helped you.

“No. I just like to drink.”

His tone was void of all emotion. The little bit he’d given you quickly washed away and you wanted to kick yourself.

Foot meet mouth. Mouth meets foot.

You weren’t very good at this. The only friend you’d ever actually had was Usopp. The both of you know the tone of the other and every secret in between. You’d tried to make friends with the other kids in town, but holding up a frog as a friendship gift didn’t seem to go over too well. And on that wonderful trip down memory lane…

You straightened up and took a smaller sip from the beer before you leaned down to pick up your abandoned satchel.

“Thank you, Zoro.”

The both of you stared at the other until the silence was washed out by the squawking of seagulls and the rush of water. Even now in this weird game of chicken, you knew you would be the first to give. His dark eyes staring straight through you until you felt exposed. You tipped the bottle for good measure and turned on your heel to make your way inside the safety of the kitchen. Your hand clutching the bottle close as your brain tried to make sense of what happened.

Zoro helped you. He didn’t have too and for all intents and purposes you were surprised he didn’t just let you suffer, but he’d chosen not to. What did that even mean? He was just being friendly. It didn’t mean anything more than that.

Instead of dwelling on the question, you sat down in the corner booth and took another pull from the bottle.

——————-

After you finished your first bottle, you found another, and another until you’d ended up blissfully passed out in the booth. You were vaguely aware that Luffy and the crew had come into the galley at some point. The sound of Usopp and Luffy struggling to talk over the other was what forced you out of your nap.

“We all know who the Captain is.”

“It’s me.”

Two voices rang out as one with each ending in a high-pitch of surprise. It was his first day and already Usopp was trying to stir up mutiny on the ship. If you weren’t interested in staying unconscious you were positive you would’ve smiled.

“Just call me Captain Usopp.”

“We already know I’m the Captain.”

It didn’t surprise you they were still giving out declarations of who was Captain. You waited for it to become a campaign, like when Townsfolk ran for Mayor, but the sound of Nami’s laughter followed by - was that Zoro?! - ended both men’s rant.

“See, this is what it’s all about,” Luffy’s voice chimed in. “From now it’s going to be smooth sailing.”

He was his usual happy sounding self. You were willing to bet it was infectious, making everyone’s earlier laughter remain in the small creases by their eyes and the raise of their lips. Luffy was indeed a Captain and one of the best kind.

Enjoying the moment abruptly ended, however, when you caught the sound of a whistle outside. It grew more intense by the second. Whatever it was, was slicing through the air with a force that was audible. You weren’t sure why it took so long for your brain to register that it wasn’t a natural sound. It was rectified, however, when something violently slammed into the Going Merry and sent everything trembling.

Your back immediately shot up off the cushion of the booth. Eyes open wide as you stumble to your feet watching Nami and Zoro do the same.

“What in the hell was that?”

“Luffy opening his damn mouth,” Nami replied as you followed behind her.

You were wondering how Luffy’s mouth could have anything to do with the current sounds coming from outside. Your response died in your throat the minute you got out onto the deck. You followed them to the stern of the ship and finally saw what was waiting for you all was a very large, very metal, Marine vessel trailing behind you.

All the blood drained from your body and whatever buzz you’d had left over from earlier was now completely gone.

“It’s the marines! We’re under attack!”

Nami rushed to the wheel to begin to try evasive maneuvers to get you all out of the way of the oncoming cannonballs. Another shot rang out from the marine vessel and you waited to be struck by steaming metal and found yourself vaguely relieved when it crashed into the ocean a few feet from you.

“How did they find us?”

“Does it matter? They’re trying to blow us out of the water!”

What the hell were you supposed to do?

What in the hell could anyone do against being shot at by cannons and a marine vessel that was gaining on your small ship by the second. You could see three figures standing at the bow of the ship, eerily watching as if waiting for something - or someone - to appear.

Luffy grabbed the telescope and peered through the lens. You all waited for him to give an order and what he said next surprised everyone.

“Grandpa?”

“Grandpa!”

“Did you just call that guy grandpa?” Zoro asked, his eyes carefully watching Luffy as he glanced through the telescope back at the ship.

He didn’t answer right away. The sound of another shot being fired made all of you space out from one another. You could feel the tension singing through your nerves. The adrenaline was demanding you to move or do something else besides just hopelessly stand like a damn target. The fight or flight in you erupted to life with one key thought hoarding every inch of clarity besides one: run.

This time when the cannon came crashing down it came right at the edge of the stern. An eruption of water covering you in a fine mist of water. You didn’t get a chance to decide on what to do when another shot rang out.

“Hit the deck!”

Usopp’s scream was frantic enough you didn’t ask why, and did as he instructed and became one with the wood. Seconds later, the sound of speeding metal whizzed by you and smashed into the railing behind sending wood fragments everywhere.

You couldn’t stop the scream that tore its way from your lips as your body curled in on itself.

What the hell did I sign up for?

You could hear the sounds of feet clumsily finding their footing again as everyone began to get up. You wanted to stay where you were, but the sharp sound of Zoro calling you a coward resonated inside your chest.

You could do this. You could totally hundred-percent do this.

It was your turn to begin to get up from your place on the stern deck, and just as you moved to your knees someone offered their hand for you to take. Color you shocked when you looked up to find that hand was attached to Zoro. You must have been staring too long because he looked away, hand still out, and grumbled, “You going to keep staring at it or take it?”

Yup, and there was the Zoro you’d grown to know and loathe.

“It just burns you up inside to be so helpful, doesn’t it?”

Your voice oozed with sarcasm as you took his hand - maybe a bit too aggressively - and started to get up. Zoro saw your passive-aggressive hand smack and did you one better. He pulled you quickly to your feet, but that quickness came at the cost of your balance. Your feet couldn’t catch their footing back on the deck and you ended haphazardly colliding into his chest.

As fast as it happened, it was equally as fast that you both dislocated yourselves from each other.

“Is everybody okay?”

“I think so.”

“No. Not okay. Not even close to okay.”

“I second, Usopp,” you said.

You weren’t sure why you raised your hand. It could’ve been you just really needed them to know that no - no, this was definitely not okay.

Luffy took your concerns with a grain of salt, however, and ran over to the cannon - the only cannon - on deck. You’d only just meet him, but Luffy didn’t strike you as someone who held onto any ill will. So, you were surprised to see the determination burn in his eyes and the scowl to cross his face.

What did your grandpa do to you?

If you weren’t mortally in danger of drowning at any minute or being shredded in half by a cannonball, you might have asked.

“Usopp! Fire back at them!”

“Or how about we sail away as fast as we can?”

“I like that idea, actually,” you chimed in, a hand scratching the back of your neck. “That’s a solid plan if I ever heard one, Usopp.”

“Run from the marines?”

Luffy looked between the three of you. He couldn’t believe that Usopp, Nami, and you were apparently so quick to not want to put up much of a fight. You did enjoy not being a sea decoration.

“No. Never! Nami trim the…sail thing. Let’s sink their ship!”

“Wait, what? Are you crazy?”

You had to back up to stand next to Zoro as Luffy waved for Usopp to join him on the stern. The two of them grabbed a hold of the cannon to bring it towards an opening in the back.

“Let’s sink their ship.”

“Luffy, we don’t have time for this!” Nami interjected, but Luffy wasn’t listening. “They’re going to come up alongside us! If they do, we are finished.”

“Our odds keep sounding better and better,” you mumbled as you made your way over to Nami.

“You are our Navigator. Do something.”

Nami let out a groan before her whole demeanor changed. No longer was she trying to flee or get Luffy to see reason. Suddenly, she turned to Zoro and ordered him to go down and pull the sheet in. He didn’t waste a second before he brushed past you and down the stairs.

You waited for her to order you to do something, anything, but she must have known it would’ve been like explaining math to a baby. You didn’t even know what she’d even just asked Zoro to do. Apparently, neither did he.

“Which way is port?”

A heavy sigh left her as she shouted back, “It’s the left!”

“Have you ever loaded a cannon before?”

“Yeah, yeah I’ve loaded tons of them,” Usopp replied coolly.

You had to give Usopp props. He was literally the master of bullshit and could keep a straight face even though you both knew the only thing he loaded was his imagination.

“This is just a different model I’ve never seen before.”

“Usopp, you load the cannon in the barrel. Light it and then get the hell out of the way!”

Following Nami’s directions, Usopp rushed forward towards the barrel. You thought he was going to make it when the ball slipped out of his hand and landed with a heavy thud on the deck. You rushed forward to grab it before it rolled down the stairs, but didn’t notice Usopp rushing to join you in the hunt. What neither of you failed to notice was that the vibration from dropping the cannonball dislodged the others.

In a split second, you and Usopp collided into one another and when you stepped back to stand up your heel caught a ball. You had barely enough seconds to lean yourself forward as you slipped down the stairs, taking each stair with a thud just like the cannonballs.

Your knees slammed into the edge of one of the stairs, but the balls under your hips kept you slipping. You tried bending your knees to slow your descent only to have them successfully bump every step on the way down.

“Oh shit, Doc are you okay?” Usopp shouted down after you.

“I’m fantastic,” you grunted as you came to a stop before the last steps.

You weren’t trying to remove yourself from the stairs. You could feel the pain in your knees growing with each passing second. You were willing to bet when you stood up, that dull throb that was beginning to resonate under your skin would shoot out like lightning the minute you stood up. Unfortunately, you’d forgotten who was at the bottom of the stairs with you.

“Are you going to get up anytime soon or do you enjoy just laying there?”

You were ready to tell Zoro where he could shove his swords when a gruff voice you’d never heard cut over the chaos.

“Pirate vessel, by order of the marines, lower your sails and submit to my authority.”

You were willing to bet a million berries if that man wasn’t Luffy’s grandpa that wouldn’t even be an offer on any table. Ever. The sound of Zoro’s boots coming closer caused you to peel yourself up just enough before he - did he really just step over you?

“Oh, you asshole,” you seethed.

You scrambled to your feet to chase after him when you noticed another cannonball headed straight for the Merry. But where was the sound of the gunpowder? What felt even more unbelievable was what came after.

Sure, Luffy told you he’d eaten a Devil fruit. He’d told you his body was made of rubber but seeing was believing. You watched as Luffy began to inhale air and his body blew up like a…balloon. Luffy was becoming an actual balloon of skin until the cannonball landed in the center of his stomach. He took the entire impact and flung it back at the marine vessel. One minute, you could hear the return fire whistling through the air. The next, you watched as the crow’s nest above the mast exploded and seconds later it came crashing down.

Everything grew silent aboard the Merry as you all registered what you’d just witnessed. You were still staring at Luffy and back to the now very much on fire marine ship when Usopp’s surprised laughter cut through the silence.

“That was amazing! You just saved us!”

“You didn’t tell me you could do that.”

You could feel your own smile slide across your face as the adrenaline began to bleed away. The aftershocks of the thrill of battle - no matter how unsuccessful - left you feeling ready to do it all again. Or take a nap.

You were joining in on the laughter as you looked back at Nami, and at Usopp who was jumping in excitement with Luffy. You looked over at Zoro and found your earlier excitement drained from your body. Sure, you’d seen him smirk and look like the grumpy cat who ate the canary, but you’d never seen him smile.

Sometime during the battle the wind had tussled up his hair making him appear like he’d just woken from a nap. It made him softer, less broody, and the grin that lit up his face actually reached his eyes and scrunched his nose.

It was safer in the village.

You wanted to say the thought was because of what had just happened. Even as Luffy ordered Nami to get you out of the area, you knew it wasn’t because of the danger. Hell, as much as it was a mess of a first battle, the adrenaline of it all was demanding for a release. Maybe you’d be able to use that as an excuse for why your heart was beating so wildly as you watch Zoro run a hand through his hair.

The ship suddenly felt too constricting. It didn’t allow enough space between you and the swordsman who resided on this ship. You tried to shake your head clear of all those thoughts and turned to run after Luffy. You called his name as you carefully took the stairs down after him.

“Something wrong, Doc?”

“No, no,” you waved him off. “I just - I wanted to ask a favor.”

“You can ask me for anything.”

You weren’t sure if you would ever get over how genuine Luffy was. Every word he said to you he meant it. You could probably tell him you needed the sun, and whether physically attainable or not, you knew Luffy would try his absolute best to bring it to you.

Because Luffy was just that kind of Captain.

“Would it be a bother if we stopped at an island? I’m in need of some supplies.”

———————

Luffy didn’t hesitate to say yes to your request to stop at Irkhaven. It only took you all of four seconds to explain what it was, where it was, and why you needed to go before he sent you to Nami to give her the coordinates. While you’d never physically gone with Naan to harvest the ingredients you’d grown up using, she made sure to tell you often how to get there.

Just in case the day came she couldn’t.

What you hadn’t expected as you walked through fields of lavender was to have Zoro trailing behind you.

“How much longer are we going to be out here?”

“Until I have enough of everything to last us a while,” you called over your shoulder.

You didn’t need to look behind you to know Zoro was shooting daggers into the back of your skull. While he hadn’t been happy being volunteered to go with you onto the island, he hadn’t argued with Luffy either.

You stopped midway out of the lavender fields and took out your small knife to begin cutting gently through the stems. After you had a good enough bundle, you sheathed the knife back in its place on your satchel where you reached inside to grab a pre-cut piece of string.

You could still feel Zoro watching you, as you tied the lavender together in a tight bundle.

“I wasn’t aware picking flowers was life-saving medicine.”

This time you did look over at him. Zoro, the strong and proud pirate hunter. The demon, Luffy said was his nickname. Looking at Zoro now, even in an endless field of lavender, he resonated power. You held no doubt he had earned such an intimidating name through grit and blood-soaked swords.

He looked out of place next to you in a place meant for healing and you couldn’t help but wonder if it was more what he projected than who he was. While Luffy told you happily about the scary parts of Zoro (which Luffy by no means actually saw as scary) he’d also mentioned Zoro never went without a specific sword.

Remembering Luffy’s words, your eyes quickly darted down to the white-sheathed katana. If you had to put money on it, that was the one that held a deeper meaning to him. It was the one he clutched the tightest and his hand fell on absentmindedly.

Once you knew the bundle was secure, you playfully poked it in his direction.

“It does heal. It calms the mind and spirit. It creates restful sleep.”

“It stinks.”

“You are absolutely impossible,” you grumbled, your eyes rolling as you turned away from him.

You placed the bundle inside your satchel and started forward. You didn’t need to look back to know that Zoro would be behind you. This time you were leading him towards an eyeline of trees you’d spotted a few feet back. They looked promising to hold green chiretta.

“So, why did Luffy send you with me?”

You came out first from the field and onto a path that was being taken over by the vegetation.

“Because you don’t know how to protect yourself.”

“I can too.”

“A pot doesn’t count.”

You spun on your heels, satchel swinging, and caught it with your forearm just before it swung into your hip. You were pleased to see the unexpected action had caught him by surprise. Not the typical surprise that Usopp, or others, gave where it might be exaggerated or a gasp and step back. No, Zoro’s was the briefest flinch in the corner of his eyes. Blink and you would’ve missed it.

“Hey, that pot kicked ass.”

“You got lucky.”

“Okay, Mosshead, then what do you call this?”

You lightly tapped your cheek to indicate the very noticeable bruise that was just beginning to fade from his left cheek.

“I call that luck.”

You let out a huff as you turned and faced forward. Leading him towards where you needed to go and reminding yourself that you needed to focus on the task at hand. Not Zoro.

“You carry a knife with you but you don’t use it.”

He stated it as a fact. Not a question. Zoro already knew that it wasn’t used for self-defense.

“I use it to treat and clean infected wounds and forage for ingredients.”

“But not for self-defense.”

You found yourself whirling on him again and this time he was prepared. His hand resting on the edge of his sword and hand infamously tucked inside his pocket.

“I’m a doctor, Zoro. I follow Naan’s oath to never do harm to anyone-“

“And what if to help someone - yourself - it meant that you had to take a life to save theirs?”

He’d taken a step towards you. His whole body radiated with an intensity you hadn’t been prepared for. You could feel your muscles straining to stay in place; to not retreat. Zoro had closed what space you’d had between the two of you until all he’d left were a few measly inches.

“I try not to let it come to that.”

“You don’t always get to decide like that, it's not how the world works. You keep thinking like that and you’re going to be a liability.”

Your eyes narrowed in on him and you felt yourself get on your tippy toes without thinking. Your index finger pressed into his stupidly hard chest as you looked up at him.

“It is not a liability to give a shit about people, Zoro. To care about who they are with their own wants and dreams. What makes someone a liability is not knowing who is worth that effort and who isn’t.”

You dropped back down onto your heels and turned to stomp your way into the trees. What did he know? So, you weren’t exactly a swordsman or incredibly stretchy, and while Usopp wasn��t necessarily the bravest man on the planet he was a damn fine shot. Nami could kick ass and was the best navigator. What did you bring to the table?

No. You wouldn’t let him make you think that way.

You hadn’t realized you’d gone farther than intended into the forest of trees until you noticed not only the green chiterra growing all over the sides of them, but also what looked like gold cap mushrooms. One that you knew to be poisonous.

You put it in the back of your mind. You weren’t here to get things to harm people. That wasn’t who you were and you wouldn’t let this newfound journey, or anyone, change that. You unsheathed your knife from your satchel and started carefully scraping off the moss from the bark of the tree.

“I could train you.”

Those four words stopped you mid-scrap. It had been roughly a few minutes - only a few - since you’d both been silent. You expected the rest of your time out here collecting ingredients to go relatively dull with you both pouting in your respective corners. Out of everything you could’ve expected, those four words were most definitely not it.

“Huh?”

God, you really needed to get it together.

Zoro grunted out a, “Fuck me,” before he gave you his full attention.

“I said I could train you. If you want.”

Was it possible that Zoro, the demon pirate hunter, was nervous? You couldn’t believe it, and for that exact reason you didn’t think twice about it. However, you couldn’t pass up the chance to tease him. Just a little.

“Did Roronoa Zoro - the demon pirate hunter - just offer to teach me how to kick ass?”

This whole entire trip was turning into one unexpected thing after another. The last thing you would’ve thought you would earn from your teasing was a grimace, maybe a smirk if you were lucky. Instead, your words generated an actual smile from the demon himself and you were devastated.

“I thought you said you never heard of me?”

Oh, right. He was talking and he needed you to word back. Right. You could do that.

“Luffy,” your voice cracked on your captain's name and you pretended to cough to clear your throat. “Luffy was telling me about the first time you guys met. It was truly a riveting moment.”

“Okay, let’s back up,” you began, your fingers motioning like a wheel. You’d been sitting with Luffy at the table eating breakfast. What had come over you to ask about how he met Zoro was still currently pending investigation. Luckily for you, Luffy wasn’t going to question you on why you wanted to know. “Did you just say you met him tied up inside the marine yard?” “He’d given himself up. Never told me exactly why he’d done that actually.” Luffy was perplexed for all of a millisecond before he sank his teeth back into the dry meat in his hand. “Oh, well I’m sure he was happy you let him down.” “Actually, he told me to get lost.” Yup, you were choking on a piece of toast. Luffy just stated it like it was useless information. Not that his first mate didn’t tell him to essentially fuck off during their first meeting. “He told you to get lost?” “Yeah, he did.” “So, why did you even bother staying there? You could’ve just left.” A smile began to grow on his lips. It wasn’t his usual radiant one that could rival the sun, but a thoughtful one. It told you the memory of meeting Zoro meant something special to Luffy, and it made you regard the interaction a little less harshly. “I couldn’t just leave him there. Not when he has a dream to fulfill.” While you were still debating on whether Luffy was a real person, there wasn’t any denying that he searched for the good in people. Whatever it was he’d seen in Zoro told Luffy he was a good guy. “So,” you drawled out the o, “he told you to get lost and for some reason your brain heard those words as, ‘follow your dreams’.” “He isn’t a bad guy, Doc. I know Zoro is more than just a pirate hunter with a scary nickname. He is someone with a dream, just like you, and I’m going to make sure he reaches it.”

Looking at Zoro now, you could see what Luffy saw in him. Sure, he was quick to anger and even more quick to say shit without thinking it through, but who wasn’t at times? You had experienced first hand the good that lived inside of him.

He’d helped you when he didn’t have to when you were sick. He shared a part of himself, a small part but still a part, to see who he was underneath all the attitude. While you weren’t in the business of hurting anyone, you debated on whether letting him train you would at least make you useful enough to save other members of your crew - maybe Zoro - if something came up.

You did hit someone with a pot and punch Zoro in his face. What could learning a few moves going to do?

“Alright, demon pirate hunter, I’ll consider it.”

—————————

He wanted to throttle Luffy.

The way you kept looking at him - saying his nickname - was stirring something foreign in his chest. He may not know exactly what it was but he didn’t have too. His body was telling him plainly he should take back his invitation to spend more time alone with you. You were only going to get in the way of his goal.

All of those made sense why he should retract his invitation and head back to the Merry. And yet…

“If it pumps up your ego, I’ll say it as many times as you like. For a price.”

You wiggled your eyebrows at him and it was so unexpected Zoro wanted to laugh. His offer to help train you had been in the back of his mind, but when he went to offer it, it’d gone rougher than he’d intended. He hadn’t meant to make you feel bad - to call you a liability. It wasn’t that he thought you would be an actual liability for Luffy.

You were a liability for him.

The way you were looking at him now, the smile on your face, gave him all the warning he needed to know you were a dangerous wildcard. He’d made a promise to Kuina and you felt like the one thing that could keep him from it.

Whatever the feelings you were stirring in him were something he needed to be wary of. Zoro wasn’t going to have any of it. He made a promise a long time ago and he wasn’t going to let you or anyone else get in the way of him keeping it.

He was so lost in thought that he wasn’t aware you’d gotten so close. It wasn’t until your fingers slid over his ear, placing something behind it, that he was jolted back into the present.

“Oh, shit I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

Your voice was breathy and sweet with your wide eyes looking up at him with something dangerously close to reverence. Close like at the dinner table. Close like when he’d tumbled out of the well and landed on top of you. Zoro still had the way your body felt under him burned into his memory. One he’d tried to erase with the bottles of liquor that now sat empty inside his room.

His hand moved up to feel what you’d placed behind his ear, and his fingertips were greeted by the soft give of flowers.

“Did you seriously just put flowers in my hair?”

Your response was maddening. Zoro watched as you brought your hands up to join your shrug, as if he wasn’t standing there, flowers now pinched between his fingers.

“I think you look cute.”

Cute.

“Yeah. That’s not me.”

In a show that it wasn’t him, that you and your stupid flower giving were just another nuisance, he opened his fingers and let them fall to the ground. Zoro watched as your eyes that had been brimming with sunshine were darkened by clouds of sadness. Even your earlier giddy step was replaced by slouched shoulders that suddenly looked as if the world weighed heavily on them.

“Okay.”

Your reply was meek. If he wasn’t straining to hear it he would’ve missed it. You didn’t give him another glance or yell at him for being an ass. That was what he had expected; what he was still waiting for. Zoro had known you for a couple of days and within that time came to learn you were the most maddening person he’d ever met - second to Luffy. This? He didn’t like this. He liked it better when you fought back. When you told him what an asshole he was and when you touched him without thinking.

Zoro watched as you went back to gently maneuvering your knife under the bark; skilled hands that removed pieces of that weird-looking fungus. You pulled an empty glass from your bag and, with the same gentleness, pushed it past the lip of the bottle to hold it inside.

Cute.

That’s what she’d called him.

I am not cute. I’m the demon pirate hunter, Roronoa Zoro.

He could feel his jaw flexing at the thought. Cute. Zoro has been called many things in his life, but cute was never one of them. His hand clenched and unclenched on the Wado Ichimonji as if asking - begging - what he should do.

He couldn’t stay here much longer. Zoro didn’t know what to say and you obviously had no intention of speaking to him anytime soon.

“Fuck this,” he whispered as he stalked off back out of the trees.

He made it to the edge of the clearing where the sun fully broke free from the shade of leaves when you called to him.

“Try not to get lost, Zoro. We both know you’ve got shit directional

skills.”

He refused to admit he was happy to hear you say something. Even if that something was your usual shit-talking. Zoro grunted as a reply and quickly went back to walking out of the clearing when something - small and pure white - caught his eye out of his peripherals.

It was huddled against the bark of a tree. Its petals were open and stark against the darkness. It took him a moment to recognize those white petals. What he found amusing was how the flower always seemed to be carrying its own weight on its shoulders; the neck of it dropping down like it’d just received devastating news. Zoro didn’t know why he gently plucked it from its resting spot. He couldn’t explain why after that he turned to head back in your direction.

Zoro was trying to get away from you and here he was bringing a fucking flower back. You turned at his approach, your mouth already forming over some word. You never spoke what it was you wanted to say and you didn’t seem like you wanted to try either.

Zoro placed the snowdrop behind your ear. Perfectly placing it to where the hanging bulb hugged the top of your ear to hang against your hair.

“You left to go find flowers?”

Zoro shook his head. He stepped back just enough to see how it looked. He was a dumbass for doing this.

“No, I was going to head back to the ship-“

“Figures-“

“When I saw this snowdrop by itself,” Zoro continued over you. “It made me think of you.”

“That feels oddly specific.”

He didn’t like how you were looking at him. More accurately, he didn’t like how you looking at him was making him feel.

“It’s a snowdrop. They’re one of the most delicate flowers in the world.”

There it was. The darkening of those previous clouds now cracked to life with the spark of your anger. Zoro had to admit, he enjoyed getting you all riled up. What he wouldn’t tell you, is because they only grew at certain times and usually in the snow, it made them one of the most resilient flowers because they could grow under any conditions.

“Are you calling me delicate?”

A huff left him as his eyes rolled up into the treeline.

“I was trying to apologize earlier.”

“Oh.”

You’d started all that storm building just to deflate but also-

“You sure have a way with words,” he teased.

“My bedside manner is not the best, I’ll admit. I once told a dying man a joke about a pirate and marine having an entanglement. Naan said it probably wasn’t the most appropriate time.”

For some reason, Zoro could picture it. A man dying and you, being your nervous self, trying to make him laugh to ease his passing. The thought of it alone made a smile curl at his lips, and he tried to gently shake it away. To look at anything else but you.

“What do I gotta do to hear one of these world-famous Doc jokes?”

He waited until his face was neutral to look back at you. Both hands rested on his swords as he watched you fill the bottle to the brim and place it securely inside your satchel.

“For that kind of service? You have to be dying.”

“You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?”

You were a pain in the ass. A pain in his ass. From the moment he met you until now and probably would continue to be. A pain that made him think of things outside of his goal. You made him think past his promise. Who was he if he didn’t keep it? He should’ve never offered to train you or willingly spend more time with you. He was going to have to take it back. It didn’t matter if it hurt your feelings or made you hate him. Maybe that’s what he needed to do to make you hate him-

“What are you doing?”

Zoro prayed that his face was devoid of any emotion. The panic that bloomed in his chest didn’t spread to where you could see. You’d placed your hand over your chest in a way Zoro knew too well.

“I,” it was the first time Zoro ever heard your full name. “Promise to be the biggest pain in your - Roronoa Zoro’s ass - from now until whenever.”

For the second time, his hand was clutching onto the Wado Ichimonji today. While you spoke, Zoro could swear he saw flashes of Kuina standing behind you. The look of disappointment growing on her face.

“You made a promise.”

Zoro couldn’t bring himself to speak. He couldn’t trust what he would say. So, he simply turned back on his heel and made a beeline back for the edge of the trees. This time when he reached it he didn’t stop. He had to get back to the safety of the ship where he could barricade himself from you behind wooden doors and booze because Zoro could really use a drink.

————————-

It has been two days inside the fog. Two days of Zoro avoiding you like you carried the plague back with you from Irkhaven.

When you’d made that promise it was only meant to be good fun. You replayed over in your mind to see if you’d said something wrong - done something wrong to warrant the sudden extreme cold shoulder.

Besides the time you’d been with Nami and Usopp, all of you shared thoughts about the naval battle that had happened and, who could forget, his very real vice-admiral of a grandpa. Who could launch cannonballs like paperweights. After that, Zoro didn’t come around you or close to you.

Sure, you would see him when he lounged on the deck napping like a cat in open spots. Hell, if Zoro wasn’t sleeping he was either drinking or training. You’d catch glimpses of him on the upper deck lifting weights with his arms and, sometimes, his mouth.

The first time you saw him lifting eighty pounds with his teeth, you had about a thousand questions racing through your mind. If you thought he would answer you if you spoke, you might have asked him.

You weren’t sure why it bothered you so much. It shouldn’t have even mattered whether he talked to you or not, but he’d offered to train you. Why bother asking to do something that required his time if he wasn’t willing to give it? These sorts of questions had been your own personal plague since he’d begun to give you the cold shoulder.

You’d been sitting with your legs hanging out of the side of where the cannonball had blown an unfortunate hole through the Merry’s railing. It killed you to see her so broken; her intricate leafling design ruined all because of what felt like a family spat. Letting out a sigh, you pulled your legs out from over the side with a hand holding onto the rail so you didn’t fall into the sea.

Once you were securely standing without fear of going overboard, you wrapped the leather cord that secured the pages of your journal around it. You were just finishing up tucking it in when Usopp began to shout, “I see something.”

How anyone could see anything in this mess was beyond you, but then again Luffy was at the front of the Merry using his nose to guide you guys out of the fog so…yeah. Stranger things could and did happen.

It was enough to garner your attention and bring you walking up to join the rest of the crew that had assembled.

“I see nothing,” you stated.

“I don’t know how anyone could see anything in this soup,” Nami agreed as she stirred the ship in the direction Luffy called.

“You guys don’t see the red lights? How can you not see them?”

“Because, Usopp, I don't have eyes like an Eagle.”

You could feel the happiness your comment brought him as he continued to point in the direction of said light.

“Just keep your eyes posted right here in the center and you’ll see it, Doc.

“3 degrees starboard, Nami and keep it straight.”

“I really wish you wouldn’t sit up there Luffy,” you called up to where he sat, legs wide, on the Merry’s headpiece. “What happens if you slip?”

“You're his crew mate. Not his mother. He doesn’t need you coddling him.”

You turned to find Zoro standing a few feet behind Usopp. He wasn’t looking at you but he’d just spoken to you. His first words in two days and it didn’t surprise you in the least they were his usual asshole tone.

“Oh, so he can speak. What a shocker.”

Zoro side-eyed you but still refused to acknowledge your presence. The soft bruise that was there two days ago at Irkhaven was all but a faded memory. You were tempted to make it a fresh one.

“Okay you two let’s focus on-“ Usopp stopped mid-sentence as his eyes scanned over something in the distance. “What’s a baratie?”

You looked where he was and finally saw it. Red neon was bleeding its way into the fog. It was enough to make you forget about Zoro, your lack of clean clothes, or what had happened the last couple of days. It was land. You were finally going to actually put your feet down on something solid that wasn’t just the Merry.

Nami stirred the Merry in and easily parked it at the next available dock. Immediately, people rushed out to begin tying the ship's ropes to posts to secure it in place.

“Is it just me or does this look like a restaurant?”

You meant your question to be open-ended. To allow anyone to answer in case what you were seeing was in fact a floating restaurant in the middle of the ocean. However, you were leaning against the rail next to Nami, with whom you pressed arm and arm.

“I think it is.”

You were all still staring over the railing when Luffy asked excitedly, “Do you guys know what this means?”

“We stock up on supplies and keep going so the marines can’t find us?”

“We head back to Syrup village where it’s safe?”

“No - let’s go eat!”

You felt the blood drain from your face. You didn’t have much in the way of something to wear at an establishment like this. You were willing to bet you couldn’t just walk in wearing - or smelling - like you all did. You were getting ready to tell Luffy you’d hang back on the ship when you felt a hand gently wrap itself in yours.

Glancing down at your interwoven hands and back up, you found Nami, her lips together in a soft smile, as she gave you a light tug to follow her.

“Come on. You can borrow some of my clothes.”

You let out a raspberry, your hand squeezing hers briefly in relief.

“Nami, you are a lifesaver.”

“That fish better have a bar.”

You weren’t going to say it out loud, but you agreed with Zoro. You were going to need the blissful ignorance of alcohol to make it through a dinner where you possibly ended up sitting next to him.

---------------

As always, thank you so much for reading. Comments and reblogs are welcome.

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vettelsdarling · 10 months

Note

Hiiii can I get a request for Lando basically a sunshine x grumpy where the reader is a new driver that wants 0 distractions and ruled out dating any drivers and so she gets along with everyone but is more distant with Lando because she knows if they get close she’ll fall in love with him but she can’t afford any distractions but he still puts in effort to get to know her and making her smile etc despite her pushing him away and they have this moment and idk you can finish it however you like plsss and thanks!

𝐈𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦

Lissie note… Hey there! This is a really cute idea, I love the thought of Lando pining!! Thank you for the creative freedom to finish it off however I feel!

Things to note:

This is set in the 2022 season, but not in the same timeline(?) you'll see

Reader isn’t completely new to Formula One, but it’s her first time on the grid as a driver (she’s been a reserve driver)

Reader is a few months/a year younger than Lando

Reader is a Red Bull driver

Pairing: Sunshine!Pining!Lando x Grumpy!Serious!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Some cursing, Pretty angsty, J*s Verstappen

Word Count: 6.5k+

Recommended playlists: 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭💔, 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟💗, 𝐋𝐍𝟒

Formula One. A bloodsport, really. Vicious and dangerous. Somehow you’d managed to rise through the ranks and get there. Even earning a place next to Max Verstappen, the second-youngest world champion. Christian Horner, your team boss, was the kind of person who nursed his drivers as if they were his own children. You yearned for the proud look on his face. Not just for him, but for yourself.

Growing up in a middle-class family, you weren’t as privileged as other kids in karting. Your mother worked tirelessly to support you, whilst your father took you to each race. Now that you’d finally made it to Formula One, you wanted to do everything you could to pay them back. They had given the better part of their lives up so that you could live yours the way you desired.

Winning a championship in Formula One had always been a childhood dream of yours.

… and you were not about to give up on that dream anytime soon.

You, Max, and Horner had come to an agreement: Max would help you win as much as possible. Nobody and absolutely nobody was to get in your way. Max promised to make sure of that. Since you were younger than him, he treated you like a younger sister, whilst still treating you as an equal. Given the fact that he had a sister, he was great at it.

You were in your car. It was the first qualifying of the season, and you felt all of your nerves tense up. It was your first ever feel for Formula One besides sim racing. You’d been stuck as a reserve driver for nearly 2 years— safe to say, you were relieved to finally get a seat. Max and Lewis had just been dominating too much. However, this year was yours and yours alone. You were determined to shine, and you would take down anyone who so much as breathed a hint of threat your way.

You were released and you started your out lap. The tyres felt smooth and the car was completely in sync with you. It was nothing like sim racing, and nothing like Formula 2 either. You’d done practice runs several times before, but there was something about the real deal that elevated the experience that much more. You knew there was a lot of pressure on you for qualifying. Mainly due to the fact that Max had no way of helping you. It was every man for himself, and there was no way you were going to get kicked in Q1.

“You doing alright?” You heard your engineer say. It made you get distracted, and you accidentally exceeded track limits.

“Well, now I’m not! Shut it, please.” Well, shit. You knew that blunder would be noted immediately. It was surely a deletion of your time. Therefore, you decided to push. Hard.

The next lap was a go, and you worked your way meticulously around every corner, hitting every apex just right. You were determined to make it into Q3. No matter what it took.

You got one final time in, and it was announced by your radio that you made it into Q2, placing P5. You weren’t the type to scream out with joy, so you merely thanked them for the notice.

Q2 began, and you barely made it through to Q3, placing P10.

What nobody expected was your spirit. If you wanted something, you were going to get it.

“Okay, we’ve notified Max that he should try to slow down a bit, to possibly get you a pole position. This way, we can also help you from behind in the race.”

“Copy.” Your chest felt ticklish with adrenaline, and you pushed harder than before. You did everything you could. Your body felt as if it had been fused to the car. You were getting the fastest sector time left and right. It was exhilarating.

“That’s a pole! Great job! We did it!” Your engineer screamed into your ear with excitement. It was deafening, but that didn’t matter. It felt so good.

“Thanks for the help, guys.”

The front row consisted of you, Max, and Lando Norris; a driver from McLaren. You hadn’t really conversed with him much before. Except one time. Max had invited you to attend the end-of-year party a year back. Lando barely managed to introduce himself before he was interrupted by the Dutchman.

After Lando finished his interview, he moved back to where you were waiting patiently for your turn.

“I hear you’re into brunettes?” You were, but you hadn’t told anyone. Which could only have meant that it was his go-to pick-up line. Lame, if anything.

“Did you also hear I’m into guys who don’t bother me?” It wasn’t a matter of teasing him or playing hard to get. You simply had no time for something as frivolous as dating on the grid. It was pointless and would only serve as a distraction when you had to stay focused.

“Cute.” It almost felt repulsive to hear him say that. You’d never really been in a relationship other than the many situation-ships you’d allowed yourself to fall victim to in your Formula 2 days.

When your turn finally came, you shook David’s hand with a smile. Adrenaline was still making its rounds throughout your system.

“You did an amazing job today, surely you must be excited!” David was such a gentle and warm soul, so you decided to lay off the colder side for a little.

“I feel amazing, really, I’m over the moon!” You grinned. He asked you some generic questions and you gave him appropriate responses for each.

“You’re the first woman in a long time to have raced in Formula One, you should be proud,” he finished off, before letting you go.

Max slung his arm over your shoulder as the two of you walked back to the Red Bull motorhome. Christian greeted you at the door on his way out, pulling you into a big bear hug and thanking Max for the sacrifice. The two of you made yourselves comfortable on the leather couches in front of the small flatscreen that was inside.

“Max, I really hope it’s okay for you to do all of this for me…” You looked over at Max who was scrolling through the channels.

“Of course, I’ll do it for you. We’re teammates. Besides, it would’ve been wrong if you weren’t talented and couldn’t actually take me on… but you can… so…” He started trailing off as he got a phone call. It seemed to be his father, so he immediately answered it. Of all feelings, you were definitely not surprised by the angry bickering coming from his father through the phone. The look on Max’s face was all but whipped with joy.

When the call ended, you tried to find the right words to comfort him. It was rather hard though, as you’d never really experienced his situation before.

“… I’m here if you want to talk about it?” That was really all you could offer. But your support meant everything to Max, who had made quite the impression on track. Fans saw him as a hot-headed brute, with nothing on his mind but winning.

“It’s okay. It wasn’t anything. Don’t worry about it.” His demeanour had completed a full 360°.

“Well, in any case, if you ever happen to need someone… you know I’ll always be right here.” Without warning, you pulled your brother figure into a warm hug, rubbing his back gently. You’d only ever met his dad a couple of times, but both times were horrible. The man was stone cold. He was intimidating to you.

To celebrate your pole in qualifying, Max had invited you out for dinner with a couple of friends. He said you knew who they were, but still, you felt off about it.

Your hair cascaded down upon your shoulders, masking your exposed collarbone from your little black dress. It was a simple dinner dress you’d brought along for the trip. Your makeup was light but accentuated your features to the fullest extent. Your shoes were designer and matched your padded Prada mini-bag. You threw on a black blazer to complete the look. Flawless.

Max had texted you the address of the restaurant along with the time. You jumped in a cab and gave the driver the information. The cab driver was chatty. He talked about his family, mentioning the fact that he had twin daughters who had just started middle school. You zoned out on the rest of his chatter though. The thoughts of dining with Max’s friends felt daunting somehow.

When you finally arrived, you were already late. You’d been too busy zoning out to notify your teammate. Upon walking in, you saw a fancy vined wall with several pictures of celebrities who’d visited the establishment. Amongst them was a picture of Max and the Brit who’d tried to hit on you. Lando Norris. A waiter approached you with a polite smile and a guest list.

“Oh, um… Max Verstappen?” You also made sure to mention your name so as to not stir any confusion or suspicions. You could’ve easily been mistaken for a fan.

“Right this way, miss.” He led you to a quiet room in the back. It was likely reserved for the restaurant’s VIPs. There you laid eyes on Max and Daniel Ricciardo… but Lando Norris too?! A wave of relief washed over you, as you realized you knew them somewhat.

“Max, you didn’t tell me she would be here?” Lando took the view in with delight, smirking as you noticed it. You rolled your eyes and took a seat beside Max. Unfortunately, that seat was across from curly-haired Brit.

“It was a surprise. We’re actually celebrating her first pole today.” You felt slightly embarrassed, almost like people singing you birthday songs.

“Max, isn’t this just rubbing another Red Bull win in our faces?” Asked Daniel. He was obviously joking, so you shot him a playful glare, chuckling shortly after.

After a while, Daniel and Max had gotten deep into their conversation, which left you to deal with Lando. He’d stolen several glances of you throughout the dinner and it didn’t seem like he was planning to stop. You took it as your opportunity to strike up some small talk. All in hopes to get him to stop staring.

“You should stop staring, my image might get burned into your retina.” He didn’t even bother blinking. His eyes moved from your figure to your eyes.

“I think that’d be a blessing, no?” You scoffed at his reply. You saw it as nothing but a foolish attempt at flirtation— which you didn’t appreciate. Sure, you were off-track, but that didn’t mean you had time for meaningless distractions. Lando gave off a clear vibe that he was nothing but a hindrance to your ultimate goal of becoming a champion.

“You’re playing hard to get. I like that,” he smirked and slightly leaned back in his seat.

“Could you be any more obnoxious?”

“If that’s what you want me to be.” He was truly impossible to communicate with. Every sentence was a pick-up line to some degree.

“I’m not interested in you, Norris.” He seemed to completely disregard the message you sent, as a smile grew on his face the moment you uttered his last name.

“Glad to know you know my name, Miss Red Bull.” Admittedly, he was pretty easy on the eyes, and his small chuckles were cuter than you wanted to acknowledge.

“You should let me take you home after this.”

“You don’t even know me.” Contrary to your belief, that wasn’t true at all. He knew exactly who you were. He and Max were close friends after all. But the real kicker was; he’d been into you for much longer than he led on.

His infatuation first started in the early stages of the 2021 season, when he’d see you wandering around the tracks on weekdays. He’d seen you in the Red Bull garages, usually deep in conversation with one of the engineers. He’d asked about you from multiple people. That included the big man himself; Christian Horner. Though, Christian encouraged him to stop asking around and just strike up a conversation with you. However, Lando never actually found the time to approach you. You were always surrounded by mechanics and the media. It was simply impossible to get to you. It was almost like you were a national treasure. Pretty to look at, but that was all he could do.

“Trust me, I know you.” For a moment, you got lost in those dashing eyes of his. He returned your gaze, only looking into what would be considered the windows to your soul. Could he read you? Could he understand that you didn’t want him? Did you want him?

“You’re incredible up close.”

“Excuse me?” You snapped out of whatever trance you’d been stuck in as soon as those words left his pouty lips. That statement was creepy if anything, and not flattering in the slightest… or was it?

“That’s a pretty off-putting thing to say, you know?” This luckily caught the attention of Max who’d finished off with Daniel. The two of them turned their heads your way to join in.

“What’s off-putting?”

“Oh, we were just talking about how obsessed Lando is with me.” You said it in a joking manner, but everyone’s faces went semi-pale. Especially Lando’s.

“So he finally talked to you? I’m glad I don’t have to answer any more of his idiotic questions.” Your mouth went dry at his words, and Lando’s face turned a rose colour. As if all air conditioning had been turned off on a hot summer’s day.

“Excuse me?” You’d lost your appetite, making your curiosity the only reason you had to stay. That and your appreciation for Max having paid for the dinner that was supposed to serve as a celebration.

“I- um…” Lando was reasonably hesitant to say anything.

“Well… I was just referring to his constant flirting. I didn’t believe it was deep or anything but… um… you know what? This was nice, Max. Truly. I think I’d like to get home. I’m absolutely drained.” You sighed with a screwed smile on your lip. You gathered your things and pushed your chair in. Despite your friend’s heavy protests, you left and got a cab for yourself.

Leaving on an empty stomach hadn’t been the plan, so you had no choice but to stop by a grocery store. Many in the area had salads ready to go. It was no five-star meal, but it had to suffice.

Of course, you felt awful for leaving early, but you knew you couldn’t let yourself stray away from your goal. Lando was attractive, you couldn’t stand there and lie to yourself, but that was all the more reason to stay away. Well, besides the point that you barely knew the guy. The flirtatious comments and borderline creepy behaviour were nothing to you. It wasn’t anything you wouldn’t be able to ignore. As long as he stayed out of your way.

Except he didn’t.

The following morning, you had a couple of missed messages from Max. He’d been worried after you took off. You were too frazzled and in a hurry to respond. There was no time left before the briefing back at the motorhome. Being punctual meant that you showed an interest. It meant that you showed passion. You were not going to let some silly McLaren driver ruin it for you. That was simply not your style and would never be.

When you got there, everyone was already gathered. They’d been waiting for you to arrive. Honest, but embarrassing mistake. You wanted to let out a slew of self-insulting jabs. Lucky for you, it didn’t last too long, and you were on to start prepping for the race.

“Hey, are you okay?” A certain Dutchman tapped your shoulder and spun you around when you weren’t responsive. The look he saw in your eyes spoke volumes. Notes that you wish weren’t easily revealed. The eyes didn’t lie. They never did.

“I’m fine, I just really want to focus on winning. I don’t have time for whatever Lando is trying to drag me into.” You sighed as the two of you walked to the motorhome.

“Look, I know you haven’t known him for long, but maybe try to get along with him? You don’t have to accept his shitty flirting. He’s my best friend and so are you… it’s really awkward that you can’t even be around him.” True. You had acted somewhat irresponsibly, but you certainly weren’t the only guilty party in that.

“Fine, but under one condition. You tell him to stop being so flirtatious with me. I hate it.”

“Deal.”

The race ended with a lucky pole position. Somehow, you’d gotten away with defending yourself from none other than your little McLaren fan. As much as you enjoyed your national anthem being played and spraying champagne— you felt so empty. It felt like a worthless celebration. All because you knew you’d been underperforming. You hadn’t given it your all, yet Lando still kept behind you. Of course, with Max behind him, there was nothing for you to worry about. Both drivers were amazing when it came to defending their place, but you just couldn’t understand how he hadn’t gone for the win. It was right there. Right within reach. It was so close, his beautiful curved lips could touch it. It didn’t make sense to you, nobody would be stupid enough to sacrifice coming out on top. You didn’t believe it. You simply didn’t even want to.

Lando became unavoidable. As more races were won by you and some by Max, it was finally time for the summer break. 3 weeks of much-needed rest.

… what you thought would be a relaxing 3 weeks, turned out to be the most stressful weeks of your life.

Max had texted you on short notice to come over for dinner, as Kelly had made too big of a batch of gnocchi. Since you lived walking distance from him, you didn’t see any harm in coming over. Kelly wasn’t exactly your favourite person in the world, but it wasn’t like she was insufferable. She was still a nice person… somewhat.

Max greeted you at the door, having Penelope run up behind him to say hi. You might’ve not been the biggest fan of her mother, but she was such a cute little thing. You took her up into your arms and smiled,

“Hi there ‘P’!”

Your smile quickly faded though. The Brit from McLaren came into view from behind Max, and it was almost as if all of your spirits had been sucked out of you like the marrow of a bone. It was something of a consolation, however, that he stayed silent. He just stood there and watched as you played around with Penelope. The toddler was full of energy.

“Come come, the gnocchi is ready.” You put the girl down and followed them into the dining room. Kelly had plated everything and had taken the liberty to sit across from Max. You had no choice but to sit next to her. It wouldn’t exactly make sense for her to be sitting next to Lando.

“Kelly, I must say you are an amazing cook, this looks fantastic!” Fake it until you make it. In all honesty, though, she was a great cook.

“Thank you. I’ve been practicing lately.” It felt like deja vu when the couple got into talking. There was just you, Lando, and Penelope.

“I think I should apologize for… everything?” Lando suddenly spoke. You scanned his face, his hair, his outfit. Were you in trouble? Perhaps.

“You know what, Kelly? I think I’ll help tuck Penelope in!” You got up from your seat and politely put down your cutlery.

“Oh, sure. Thank you. It’s way past her bedtime.” She smiled at you and signalled for Penelope to come with you before she turned back to Max.

Lando had the guts to follow you into Penelope’s bedroom. He watched as you lifted the little girl up into your arms and placed her carefully on the duvets that covered her bed. She was already in her pyjamas, which made your job all the more easy. He took the chance to sit next to you on the bed, as you stroked the toddler’s cheek.

“Are you really going to avoid me forever?” He said in a quiet whisper, not wanting to disturb the girl from dozing off into the gentle night.

“You’re a fool if you let relationships taint your path to victory… in my opinion.” You turned your head to look at him. The moonlight shining from the gaps in the blinds complimented his dancing eyes. They looked at you. Your figure. Your facial features. They admired you as if you were a priceless piece of art at a gallery.

“You must’ve led a pretty sad life up until now.” He wasn’t right. You’d been around love and laughter for the better part of your life. You weren’t that lonely… were you?

“Lando… we don’t even—”

“Don’t tell me we don’t know each other. You know me and I know you. This isn’t like all those months ago. We’ve been in social settings together more than I can count on my fingers. You and I know each other.” He was obviously desperate. It made sense when thinking of the massive crush he’d had on you thus far. You did feel a tinge of guilt knowing you had to turn him down no matter what.

“Lando, please don’t do this.”

“I apologize for being so forward, okay? How about we begin with a friendship, huh? That’s what Max would want anyway.” He wasn’t wrong. That’s what Max had asked of you several months ago, but you’d only been distant.

You got along with everyone pretty well. Mick was someone you would chat with every time you saw him on race weekends. Sebastian was like an older brother. Lewis, although your biggest competition, was a good buddy too. You were always hanging around Pierre and Kika too. There were no hard feelings between you and pretty much all of the other drivers. Except for Lando.

As much as you hated admitting it, Lando’s charms had taken a massive effect on you. His flirtatious little comments were nothing short of annoying, but you loved the banter. You loved his energy, his radiant laugh whenever Max would hurl jokes his way. You loved his smirk whenever you rejected his advances.

Over just a couple of months, you found yourself needing to avoid him. So you did. As more time passed, Lando must’ve started to notice, because he dialled his game up by the tenths. Avoiding him became an impossible mission. He seemed to be everywhere. If you went to the Red Bull motorhome, he was there with Max. If you went to the garage, he was there with Max. Even on-track he was right behind you in your slipstream. He was always chasing you. You only had one other option left— to act completely apathetic and aloof. Which brought you right to the confrontation in front of a little toddler trying to fall asleep.

“Just leave me alone. I don’t want you here. Just go, okay?” Your heart clenched as he gave you a disappointed smile.

“If that’s what you want.”

That night you couldn’t fall asleep. It was impossible. Whilst you didn’t harbour any real feelings for Lando, you knew you’d fall hard if you spent any more time with him. Your mind was supposed to be focused on winning, but instead of that— you were stuck on him. You didn’t want to fall for him. You didn’t have time for that. There was only one person that mattered, and that was you. Only you.

“Is he really that bad?” Kika asked as she took a sip of her coffee, placing it on the plastic coaster on the wooden table. You’d invited her over for a sleepover of sorts. Mainly what became an accidental therapy session,

“You know, I came here to Monaco to explore. Why are we sitting here and sulking? Lando isn’t all that bad.”

“Yes, Kika, he is! He keeps trying to get close to me, and when I reject him he makes me feel so guilty for doing so.” Your face was squished against the table, signalling your utter defeat in the matter. You were at a complete loss. You didn’t know what to do anymore.

“Sounds to me like you have a thing for him, no?” Kika was a voice of reason in many situations, but this was not acceptable to you. Denial and delusion was the only solution.

“Never. I want to win a championship, not go fool around with some British guy from a midfield team.” Harsh, but you had to say it. Saying it didn’t exactly have an effect on the situation, but it made you feel better.

“I don’t see any quick fix to this, honestly.” You groaned at her words, wanting your misery to end.

“Come on, relationships take time. I should know, I’m with Pierre.” Pierre wasn’t Lando though. She and he were meant to be. It was as if they were put on the planet to be with each other. You, on the other hand, were put on the planet to win. Lando was nothing but a meaningless distraction.

“Fine, I’ll help you out,” she finally said and sighed. You sprung up and looked at her with wide eyes,

“Really?”

“Really. Now listen. I’ll set up a double date thing, okay?”

“Wait what? No! Kika, no. That’s only going to make it worse. Why would you do that?” Your head dropped again.

“Look, do you want my help or not?”

“I do…”

“Then let me do my thing, and sit tight.” It was her win. You just wanted to get Lando out of the way. Any lengths were necessary if it meant being able to blow right past the Brit.

A week passed before the supposed ‘double date’, and you were not feeling it one bit. Lando wasn’t even all that close with Kika and Pierre. Not as close as you were. You’d end up being the only reason he’d have to stay.

Sadly you realized that fact too late. You were sat with Kika and Pierre at a fancy seafood place down by the harbour. Lando had noted that he’d be late, which gave the three of you some time to discuss some last-minute details. It was imperative that he’d be completely out of the equation by the end of the date.

It wasn’t so much the question of whether or not you’d fallen for him. No, it was whether you could ignore it altogether. Completely shut out any little squeak from your heart when it tugs at the sight of him. Which is just did.

You saw him walking through the door with a casual, but not too casual outfit. His curls were slightly slicked back and his smile was as radiant as ever. You couldn’t stand the sight of him. It was repulsive. Was it not? It made you sick. Did it not?

When he took a seat next to Pierre, across from you, it was hard to not look at him. Oh, but how badly you wanted to. Then again— you didn’t. You hated the fact that Kika had some diabolical plan in mind. One that probably went against everything you stood for.

“Well! Now that Lando’s here, we should order appetizers!” She pulled out the menu and casually looked through the variety of foods.

Whilst she ordered for the four of you, Pierre gave you a nervous look and slightly peered over at Lando, who luckily had his nose buried in his phone. Likely some business stuff. You could only mouth ‘What do I do?’ to which the Frenchman replied with a shrug and a miserable look on his face. He knew just as much as you, that this date would end up in a knot of awkward silences and unfinished sentences.

“Lando, I didn’t think you’d actually show up. You know, given this girl’s obvious distaste for you.” You nearly snapped your neck, as she pointed at you. Oh, how you wanted someone to interrupt your date. Anyone. Lando put his phone away, sighed, and looked at you with a small smile, before giving her a reply,

“I don’t care if I’m being completely honest. I’ve done it for months. I can go for years if I have to.” Kika had seriously misinterpreted Lando’s intentions and how badly he actually wanted you. Your version of the situation had him painted in an entirely different light after all. You made him out to be some meaningless player. Which, by the sound of things, wasn’t his style at all.

“I was under the impression he was trying to play you! That’s why this date would’ve worked out to get him off your back. What is this?!” Kika whisper-yelled. Everything was messed up. Way off course. The plan had gone to shit within less than an hour.

“Well… I really don’t like him, so isn’t there something you can do?” You whispered back. The two of you both realized that the guys were able to see you whispering back and forth, so she hauled you into the ladies’ room. It was quiet and nobody would disturb you.

“Do you want the truth or a sugar-coated lie?” She asked, resting a hand on her hip.

“The truth?” You were conflicted though. Did you actually want the truth? Did you already know it? Did you perhaps just bury it deep within the darkest chambers of your pitiful little lonely soul? Were you so obsessed with rising to the top, that relationships truly didn’t matter?

“You like him. No, it’s more than just an infatuation. You’re head over heels for him. The way you looked at him when he walked in? I saw it. Pierre saw it. The waiters saw it! Open your eyes.” Hearing it from another person really put things into perspective, and it didn’t sit right with you. All your life you were used to pushing people away. Silly little childhood crushes would stay exactly that; crushes. You never let anything go beyond the first stage.

“Kika… I don’t know,” you groaned and turned on the faucet, splashing some water on your face.

“Come on, let’s get back to them. They’re waiting for us.”

After sitting back down, Lando tried to give you a curt smile. It was awkward and the pressure was rising. It was hard to stay within 10 feet of the guy.

“I remember when I first started falling for Pierre. It was really something… how about you, Lando? When did you start having a thing for her?” Oh please, Kika seemed too determined to let it go. A part of you liked that, but the other part felt its gut screaming in agony.

“It’s been more than a year or so now, actually… it’s a little hard to explain.” With that, you couldn’t handle it anymore. You apologized and left the setting abruptly. It was far too much for you, and you just knew your heart would give out.

As you walked out of the restaurant and started looking for a cab, you heard footsteps running after you, with the calling of your name soon following right behind. You knew exactly who it was, but you didn’t know if you were ready for that conversation.

“Please don’t. Don’t leave again.” You turned around to see a very desperate-looking Lando.

“Lando, do you know how embarrassing that was for me?” You sighed and rolled your eyes as if you were a bratty teenager being denied the latest fashion statement dress.

“What?”

“Even I didn’t know it had been a whole year and more than that! You were seriously going to tell them all about your weird little obsession with me! Don’t you see how embarrassing that is for me?” The curly-haired brunette looked reasonably upset by your words. They cut deep like a dagger to the chest.

“I’m sorry, okay? I was just being honest. It felt like an interrogation. I was uncomfortable and just had to say something… well… the truth. It was really as if Kika wanted to know my intentions, though.” How was the guy so spot on?

“Lando, just leave me be and go back to the others. We can live our separate lives. I don’t want to be near you right now.” You didn’t want your face to reveal any underlying feelings, so you buried your gaze in the asphalt.

“Why don’t you go ahead and look into my eyes whilst you say that.” Your heart stopped. Lando was simply impossible.

“Lando, just let me go. I don’t want you and if you can’t accept that— I don’t think there’s any space for a friendship either.” This time, he went to hell with it and cupped your face with both hands. You could feel the warmth pulsating in each palm, sending jolts down your spine.

“There’s no reason to treat me like this if you can’t even say it straight to my face.” He held you too tightly for you to look away from him. All you could see was the genuine despair in his eyes. The little hope he had left was slowly slipping the more you denied and denied and denied.

“Lando if you don’t let go of me right now…”

“What are you going to do? Distance yourself from me? Isn’t that what you've been doing this whole season? Do you think you’re invisible? I’ve seen you. I saw you on the podium. I saw you on the screens. I saw you in the magazines. Just because you run away, doesn’t mean you get to go the easy way out. No, you’ll know that I—“ Fuck. Your brain was struggling to scramble everything together. All you could think about was those sweet eyes of his. Those curly locks. That desperate look on his face.

“Just let me go… please.” The overload of sensory input sent a single tear streaming down your face. Lando, seeing this, immediately let go of you, making sure he hadn’t hurt you in some way.

“I’m so sorry. I really am.”

“I know…” You quickly wiped the salty drop of truth away and put on yet another jester’s face.

“Please, can you tell me why you hate me so much? I just need closure. I just can’t find it in myself to believe that it’s because of my flirtation.” He’d given you space to breathe and space to think.

“I don’t hate you…”

“Then why do you keep leaving? Why are you avoiding me?”

“Because I’ll fall in love with you if I don’t… and that’s not what I want to do.” It was hard to read his face, but it was certainly portraying some kind of relief. You confirmed it when he pulled you into his chest. The sound of his heartbeat matched the pace of yours. Fast and relenting.

“Please, could you give it a chance? Give us a chance?” He pulled away, grabbed you by the hips and looked deeply into your eyes. The window to your soul.

“I just told you… that’s not what I want, Lando…” You were just about to give the ground another look at your face when Lando grabbed you by the chin,

“I know you’re obsessed with winning. I heard from Max. I won’t compromise that. I promise. It’s just… I need you in my life, and now that I know you feel the same way… I can’t just sit back and watch you slip away.” He was making it harder than you wanted him to. He had a point and you chewed on it.

“Fine… but you better let me win. At least for the remaining races of this season.”

“Sounds like you’ve got yourself a deal.” He smiled. It was as if time stood still, as you’d eyes closed with his— your lips touched his with a certain birding falling off your back along with it. His lips were like a cure. They were soft and delicate. Not something you expected, but the feeling was certainly welcome.

The season had ended with you as the champion. The party that was held was unlike the others. It was your party. Not Max’s. Not Lewis’. It was yours and yours alone. People cheered your name and toasted in your honour. You felt like you were on top of the world. More than anything though, Lando held you in his arms that same night. He showered you with congratulations and compliments. Even going as far as buying you a bouquet of roses. The club smelled of alcohol and cheap perfume, but all you could smell was the woodsy and warm scent of Lando’s cologne. You were practically engulfed in it throughout the entire night.

He took you on an official date a week later, waiting for the season to fully conclude. Mostly due to the stress of packing and making it back home.

It was a picnic in one of the many British marshes. Everything was home cooked. Well, you’d cooked everything and he had bought the wine. It was a win-win. You’d done everything overnight, as you wanted to arrive early into the morning.

You’d spread out the checkered tablecloth for you to sit on, opened the basket, and prepped everything. Lando opened the aged wine and poured you a glass before he poured his own— a true gentleman. You swirled your wine around, watching it hit the rim of your glass before you took a sip.

“For once, you aren’t running off before we eat. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dine, even with all the dinners we’ve had together,” your boyfriend chuckled and handed you a chocolate-covered strawberry. You took a bite of it to show off that you, in fact, were able to stay and eat. It stirred a little chuckle from him. He then mimicked the exact way you ate it and gave you another one after you finished yours.

You leaned against your lover’s shoulder, feeling his arm wrapped around your waist. The two of you watched the yellows, the oranges, and the reds in the sky as the sun started its ascension far into the horizon. It was mesmerizing. Truly. You admired the view, taking in all of life’s pleasures, and listened as the mourning doves cooed the same old nostalgic tune from your adolescent years. There was no place you’d rather be, and nobody you’d rather be there with, than with Lando Norris. The one, who through one too many races, was right in your slipstream.

𝗥𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻...

𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚!

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

©vettelsdarling

𝗣𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗱𝗮𝗽𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝘆, 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗲, 𝗼𝗿 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺— 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻.

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letstalkaboutshtufff · 3 months

Text

Not Weak

Highschool Gojo x reader classmate

Pairing: Gojo x reader (this can be seen as romantic or platonic since I didn’t really specify. I do like platonic friendship stories a lot tho)

Summary: You are trying your very hardest to catch up to your classmates and not get left behind.

Warnings: language, mentions of a little blood, fainting kinda

Hope you guys enjoy!

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Pathetic. There was really no other way to put it. Truly and utterly pathetic was what you were. All this training and yet you could barely summon any energy.

At this rate you’d only be able to defeat a raccoon.

“Ugh why can’t I do it…” you slump down on the tree, the target in front of you barely scratched.

You were a first year like your classmates, Gojo, Geto and Shoko but for some reason they were all improving and you were still stuck in the same place like a fly in mud. Your family had a technique, ice manipulation (excuse me while I make things up) but for some reason you were the only person who wasn’t an instant prodigy. It was extremely discouraging, especially when Gojo and Geto were so strong already.

“Hey snowflake, you’re getting better, almost felt a little chill there for a second”

“Gojo… did you come here just to make fun of me?”

“Aw cmon I wouldn’t do that, just wanted to see what you were up to, you weren’t at breakfast.”

“Just training… I’m close to a breakthrough I can feel it”

“Well do us all a favor and figure it out soon because this heat has been killing me- would love a personal air conditioner”

“You threw a rock aimed at his head which of course bounced off thanks to his new trick, infinity.”

“Rude” you just rolled your eyes and moved to stand again, ready to try again.

“Satoru stop picking on y/n” Geto emerged from the trees.

“Huh? I’m not picking on her, if anything she’s bullying me!”

“Yeah like that’s believable…” Shoko popped out behind Geto. Cigarette hanging from her lips.

“Great you’re all here…” you mumbled. Now you can all witness my patheticness…

“We didn’t see you all day, we got worried” shoko ever the sweet one looked at you concerned.

“Well I’m fine” you said with a bit more bite than you meant to.

“Ooh someone’s in a mood”

“Leave her alone Gojo she’s working hard unlike you”

“Why you little-“

“It’s not exactly a lie though is it”

“You to suguru?!? I thought you guys were my friends!”

During their little scuffle you snuck away. Your mind on one thing and one thing only. Getting your damn technique to work.

Once you were far enough away you positioned yourself towards a large boulder.

Ok breathe in

Breathe out

Focus

You raised your hand towards the boulder.

Focus

Prickles travelled up your arm towards your hand.

Ok now build the energy in the palm

Hold it

Don’t lose it come on!

Focus!

You trembled trying to control the energy

“FUCK” you felt your body jerk heavily and the energy disappear completely, like it did every damn time before you could even send it out.

You doubled over breathing heavily.

Why?! Why couldn’t you do it!? Were you always going to be this weak??? No, no you couldn’t… if you did they’d leave you behind… you couldn’t be left behind….

Again. You had to try again.

“Ok, focus” you repeated this cycle about a hundred more times or so it felt. It was nighttime but you were still at it.

Just……one……more…..time…..

“Urgh” you collapsed onto your hands and knees. Blood droplets coated the grass. You coughed a few more times before continuing your ritual.

Again… one more time…

But this time when you rose you stumbled and fell again.

Pathetic. Come you useless sorcerer get up. Every bone in your body was screaming but you ignored it completely and rose once more.

Focus

Foc-

Suddenly your target boulder blurred and you felt yourself tipping to the side.

“Woah hey, you ok?” Gojo…. What was he doing here. And most importantly why couldn’t you speak.

He held you upright and leaned down to look at your face,

“You look like hell…” his eyes gleamed in the darkness, appraising your sorry state.

“Mmfine” you slurred unconvincing.

“Hm yeah sure you are…” Gojo said sarcastically.

“Come on, let’s go find Shoko.”

“I don’t nee-“ your world spin again and gojo gripped you tighter so you wouldn’t fall.

“You were saying?” He raised an amused brow.

You sighed, there wasn’t really much training you could do when you couldn’t stand…

You nodded half heartedly in Gojos direction. You tried taking a step and stumbled,

“Alright stubborn Bambi up we go”

Ah!?

“Gojo I can walk, let me down!” His long legs easily carried you both across the training field in record time.

“Stop moving or I’ll drop you geez”

“Gojo-“you sighed in defeat. Hating yourself even more for getting dizzy again and being forced to lean your head on his chest.

“Don’t wake shoko… just need sleep…” you whispered but you knew he heard it”

He looked down at you and thought for a moment.

“Uh you sure? You were coughing up blood you know…”

“Mm sure…” you mumbled already halfway to lala land. For trash like him, he sure did smell good…

“Ok fine but in the morning you should at least let her-….aaaaand you’re asleep.” He sighed, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest. He frowned a bit at your state. He knew you were trying but some people just weren’t cut out for this line of work. He wasn’t trying to be mean or anything, it was just the truth…

He knew you wouldn’t take that well if he told you that though. Ugh why did things have to be so complicated!?!

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

The next morning you felt like a hundred bricks were weighing you down.

You groaned as you tried to sit up. Every single part of you ached.

You vaguely remembered last night with Gojo. Heat rose shamefully to your cheeks. How embarrassing it was that he had to carry you and to top it off you fell asleep on him!? How were you going to face him ugh…

It took about a hour for pain meds to kick in enough for you to shower, change and promptly make your way to the training grounds again. You would make sure this time though you wouldn’t push yourself to the point of collapsing.

Ten minutes later you were in front of the same boulder in the same position.

Familiar pinprickles soon formed in your palm

Focus…

Foc-

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Fuck

Your concentration was abruptly broken by the unmistakable voice of your midnight savior.

“training duh” you said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Are you really that eager to fall into my arms again?”

You rolled your eyes and turned towards him,

“That was… well I guess I should be thanking you… sorry for the trouble last night…” you mumbled scratching the back of your neck.

“Mm I’d believe you expect for the fact that you seem eager to repeat last nights fiasco.”

“I’m fine now… I’ll know when I should stop…”

That was a lie, you both knew it.

You turned back to your target hoping that Gojo would leave you alone.

Palm raised up

Focus

Just a bit more…

Almost there…

Ah! Your body jerked like it did every freakin time and you let out a labored breath.

Gojo watched silently from the sidelines

You tried a few more times, your breathing and now coughing getting worse and worse each breath.

Finally when he felt you truly were at your limit again he decided to stop you.

Your eyes widened in surprise at the hand clutching your wrist because honestly you thought he had left awhile ago.

“What ….are you ….doing…?” You asked between heavy breaths.

“You’re gonna pass out if you keep going”

“I won’t… I’m ok really, just a few more then I’ll stop…”

“Yeah no, that’s not happening,”

“Let go, seriously it’s fine, I need to train-“

“When did you become more stubborn than me huh?” You tried pulling but he wouldn’t budge.

“If I let go are you gonna stop?”

“…… yes”

“You’re a horrible liar” he deadpanned.

“Ugh just quit it Gojo! Don’t you have better things to do than babysit me?? Can’t you see I’m trying to train over here??” You were starting to get really annoyed now.

“….” Should he say it? Should he say that maybe you weren’t cut out for this life? That maybe you should quit trying? Could he say it? It would break you he knew but better a broken you than a dead one….

You saw the change in his eyes and gulped suddenly uneasy, “what…?”

“Maybe…. Maybe it’s time to stop…” in his defense, he really was thinking about what’s best for you.

But you on the other hand…

Your eyes were wide as saucers. His words echoed like a deadly bell that sealed your worst nightmare. He said only a few words but you understood the deeper meaning behind them in an instant.

Weak

Pathetic

Useless

He and everyone else knew it

And now you were going to be left behind.

Against your will tears beagn to burn in your eyes.

“Y-You-“ but the words choked in your throat.

“I w-won’t” you whispered, hot tears now streaming down your cheeks while you yanked your hand away from him and he finally let you.

He looked at you with a face you hated more than anything, pity…

“Stop it….” You felt your emotions start to rise.

“Stop looking at me like that! I will get strong! I won’t stop! I can’t stop! So don’t you of all people tell me to stop!”

“Ok, listen I’m sorry, just calm down alright,” he held his hands up trying to calm you but it just make you angrier.

“No- I won’t calm down! You don’t get to come here and tell me I’m weak when I’ve been trying my hardest to get stronger! Not everyone is a prodigy like you Gojo!! But mark my words I’m going to kick your ass one day and make you regret ever underestimating me!!”

“I’m not trying to call you weak-“

“JUST SHUT UP ALREADY, CANT YOU YOU’RE ONLY MAKING THINGS WORSE! JUST GO ALREADY!”

“Y/n-”

“NO-ENOUGH! IM NOT WEAK! IM NOT WEAK IM NOT WEAK!!”

“CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASH”

Both you and Gojo froze, eyes wide at the sudden noise. Slowly your heads turned simultaneously to the left where your hand was outstretched, towards the boulder- sorry correction- the pile of very teeny tiny rubble.

Wha??

“Gojo….”

“Y/n….”

You both slowly turned around to each other

Then promptly burst into excited smiles and loud laughter.

“I did it!!!”

“You did it!!!”

“I did it!!!!”

You jumped onto each other hugging and jumping up and down like children.

“See I told you I could do it!!!”

“You did didn’t you!?!!”

“I’m gonna be strong Gojo!! I will!!”

“You’ll be kicking my ass in no time!!”

You both were laughing like crazy people

*******

“Uhhh…. What the hell did we just walk in to….” -Shoko

“I’m not sure I even wanna know….”-Geto

- How I imagine them hugging lol

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

Hope you guys enjoyed! This was just a quick thing I wrote, was in the mood for some friendship fluff.

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get-purged · 1 month

Text

lewis hamilton x male reader [nsfw]

SO I FINALLY FUCKING FINISHED IT FUCK ME DEAD BRO

i'm so sorry it took so long, i struggle with motivation... i'm now just sick of looking at this, i'm fucking done with it man dfyhwesvyhewjcdb

word count: 3.4k

cw: nsfw, swearing, sub!lewis, dom!reader, male!reader, anal sex, soft vanilla sex i guess, regular ol' missionary, author can't title shit for shit, author also got a little lazy at the end, author ALSO got lazy with writing prep so he just didn't but oh well- but it's actually kinda sweet though??????

anyway, i hope you enjoy the fruits of my labour ;-;

(i'm also not the kinda guy who's like "fem aligned dni", simply cause i don't care. just enjoy it, whoever you are <3)

lewis hamilton.

a man who could have any woman he wanted using his sheer status alone. a man who could seize the heart of any entranced fan with nothing more than a simple smile. a man who could make any admirer fantasise at night after dropping a subtly suggestive comment during an interview.

not the kind of man who you’d expect to show up at your hotel room in the dead of the night with a condom, lube, and a half-baked idea.

“fuck me.”

there'd never been a queer man on the grid before – not openly at least – and not since mike beuttler, who’d just disappeared to the list of forgotten drivers. you, on the other hand, appeared to have turned out quite the opposite. you had seemed to be the media’s hottest topic as of late.

you weren’t lost to the obituaries.

after you had come out, you weren’t disregarded nor overlooked. Instead, it seemed as though the entire world’s eyes were on you. you weren’t just another driver anymore; you were like a unicorn hailing from the garden of eden, and a very influential one at that. all the cameras had transitioned to your direction, and you had become all the rage as a rare representer of the queer community in motorsports. every single reporter wanted to know the finer details of your life, and this was no exception for the drivers as well.

in particular, lewis hamilton.

the man had been ever so curious since the day he saw you in the paddock, but not the innocent kind of curious. he couldn’t figure out why he was having such thoughts as you were a man. sure, he could admit when a guy was good-looking, but he’s never felt sexually drawn to another male before, not genuinely. maybe it was your intense driving style that he found so hot and raw, or the way you carried yourself when speaking to fellow drivers that really tickled his britches. or maybe it was simply the knowledge that you indeed liked men that gave him the confidence to accept that his thoughts were valid.

either way, he was attracted, and he didn’t quite know why you twisted his ideals. but he did know that he wanted to find out, he wanted to get closer to you. he felt as though he had to – needed to. and as your friendship strengthened, he soon discovered that he wanted to get closer to you in a much different sense to how he originally thought. in a sense that he felt was dastardly wrong, in a sense that made him question if it was even women he really desired in the first place.

and who were you to turn him down? it’s lewis fucking hamilton.

as soon as you were greeted by those great big bambi eyes and that shameless request, you pulled him into your dimly lit hotel room and kicked the door closed without so much as a second thought.

you had made out wildly and were stripped of all clothing items within mere moments, far too fast for either of you get your heads wrapped around the situation. you couldn’t care less if he didn’t have any feelings for you that were beyond carnal, it was impossible when his strong inked figure was spread out underneath you – all bare, prepped, and gorgeous – reduced to submissiveness, like a sacrificial lamb waiting to be devoured. and it was even hotter to know that he came to your door and asked for this whilst completely in his right mind.

lewis' back was pressed to the mattress and his cock lay hard against his flat abs, and it dribbled bead after bead of precum that glistened with the faint moonlight creeping through the curtains. he felt you guide your length between his legs, the hot weight of it knocking against thigh was enough to have his mind turned to mush.

“wait” lewis clutched your wrist, which currently gripped the base of your erect cock to line yourself up with lewis’ entrance. your heart dropped for a moment, and you quickly stopped your doings to ensure lewis’ comfort. your gaze snapped up to meet his dark chocolate eyes, searching for any sign of discontent. but you saw none.

“yes?” your voice came out as a faint whisper as you held a thoughtful gaze. you slipped out of the grip from the familiarly foreign hand and your fingers instead travelled up the mingle of naked bodies, resting on lewis’ burning cheek.

lewis didn’t want you to think that he’d changed his mind about wanting to experiment and embarrass you beyond reason – you've already got enough going on – and he didn’t want to deny your eager, aching cock any relief. besides, it wasn’t in his place to back out. after all, he was the one who had arrived at your hotel room unannounced, forcing you to put your late-night activities on hold in order to please him. so he simply smiled softly.

“just... be gentle...” lewis’ voice was equally as quiet as yours, enough to make you shudder in its wake. “i’ve never done this before – lay with another man, that is...”

you nod in response and lewis’ hand encased your hand, the one on his cheek, with his own and came in for a hot and tender kiss – for reassurance. your eyes flutter shut, and you feel your dick twitch and leak within the confines of the condom. you suddenly wish lewis didn’t want you to wear it, you wish you could feel every cell of his insides squeeze and drag deliciously against you. you had already felt it with your fingers, but you were starving for more, and the thought has you salivating. but it is what it is, you weren’t about to force lewis out of his comfort zone, especially not on his first time.

“well, i’ve done this before...” you start as you pull back to resume the guidance of your length to lewis’ entrance, your hand leaving a lingering ghost of a touch on lewis’ cheek. “...it’s a bit uncomfortable at first, but i swear it’ll feel really really good after a moment. i promise. i'll make sure it’s amazing for you- and if you wanna stop, i'm ok with that too! Just, please, let me know if i hurt you, or if you wanna stop. i can take rejection, and-”

“y/n?”

“mm?”

“you’re rambling...”

you huff at yourself and drop your head, your hair briefly tickling lewis’ nose as you mutter your apology. lewis smiled and simply brought your face back up to his to pull you in for another kiss.

“look... i’ve already taken your fingers and i'm fine. it's just a little more girth, right?” he said as he smiled softly at you. you really wanted to tell him that that wasn’t the case, but you also didn’t want to scare him off. you really wanted this. your thoughts wandered back to the feel of your fingers inside lewis’ virgin hole a few moments ago and you couldn’t wait to have that death grip take ahold of your cock.

“are you sure?” you ask, solely for validation as your free hand comes up to trace along the intricate patterns of lewis’ braids. he smiles softly and nods.

“certain.”

you want to doubt his reassurance, but you can’t ignore your desires – nor his. you just held his gaze for a few more seconds before refocusing back on the initial task at hand. you guide your well-lubricated tip to prod at lewis’ entrance and his hole flutters around nothing in anticipation. he's already a pretty man but you can’t help but think how absolutely divine he looks like this.

lewis let himself relax against the pillows as your tip slowly slipped into him, taking deep breaths as you pushed past the first ring of muscle of his hole. naturally, lewis gasped, which immediately made you pause thinking you’d hurt him.

“you ok?” you asked cautiously as your gaze flickered back up to his face, watching carefully for any expressions that may indicate he’d want you to stop. but all you were greeted with was a breathy chuckle.

“never better.”

you let out a deep breath and just closed your eyes to focus on all the sensations happening at once. the heavy breaths from both you and lewis, the feel of his hole eagerly engulfing your tip, the firm weight of his hands resting on your chest like an anchor. you were struggling to take it slow, to control yourself and not ruthlessly fuck the ever-living hell out of lewis – the latter could sense it. but you remained strong and kept the pace deliberate. however, should this special situation occur again in the future, you hope he might let you do just that. you wished for nothing more than to take him in every position under the sun, to have him all for your own personal entertainment. it was such a tantalising concept.

you gradually pushed yourself further into lewis, he would stifle a whimper for every centimeter his hole sucked in – it was a punishingly slow process. but he kept his head as he screwed his eyes shut and hyper focused on the way your fat cock was stretching him. he noticed it was a much different sensation to fingers – but a pleasant difference it was. he was in love with the feeling and even more in love with the fact that you were the one being intimate with him, he felt as though he’d waited his whole life for this moment.

lewis chuckled under his breath at the sight of you completely losing your mind – much like himself. you were usually so calm and collected from how’s he’s previously observed you, he had no idea you could be absolutely picked apart at the brain like this. it only added to his unexplainable attraction towards you.

your head was drooped down, and you groaned faintly against lewis’ collarbone. you felt yourself close already and you were only halfway sheathed inside him. you couldn’t help it, he was clenching you way too sinfully good, conceiving pleasures like that from the heavens.

oh, how you wished to feel him without a condom on, all succulent and raw.

“holy fuck, y/n...” lewis sighed out as his hand carded through your hair encouragingly, his other moving to wrap around the back of your torso. he drew you as close as your masses would allow you to, cuddling your chests together so compactly you weren’t sure any oxygen could squeeze through. you both breathed heavily as you finally slipped all the way into lewis. he could’ve sworn he felt you in his stomach, you were that deep, and yet he somehow still wanted you even closer.

“o-oh... wow...” lewis’ voice cracked as you nestled yourself completely inside him, all the way to the hilt, feeling his walls clench you delightfully as your balls pressed against his firm ass. he felt his legs instinctually spread a little wider to accommodate you, an automated response that he didn’t know he had. he breathed heavily while you kissed a comforting trail along his neck, licking along his tattoos, giving him a moment to adjust to your staggering size.

“lemme know when to move...” you whispered against the lightly sweat-sheen skin of lewis’ collarbone, which only prompted him to weakly hook his legs around your waist.

“mmh... you can...” he mumbled out softly, barely able to keep his focus on anything but the fat cock that was wedged considerably deep inside of him. he pulled you closer and pressed his forehead to yours – you were now breathing each other’s heavy air and you could practically feel the vibrations of his tiny whimpers in your throat.

you let out a shaky breath before you gingerly pull your hips back, savouring the electrifying buzz that jolted throughout your entire body as your throbbing cock dragged against his walls. you held your breath as you pulled out to your tip, before gently pumping back all the way into him with a lewd squelch. both of your breaths hitched as a simple thrust managed to illicit such ethereal feelings within you both. the sensations were mindboggling as you began to develop a slow rhythm, throwing lewis into a most blissful state as you made love to him.

your chests heaved with your deep exhales as pleasure and anxiety wrestled for supremacy at the core of your conjoined bodies. the latter was soon conquered, and you became more confident as you saw his completely fucked out expression – it was all the reassurance you needed to know that he was enjoying himself.

lewis could feel everything – every little bump and vein on your cock was making an imprint on his insides, like his body was a silicon mold that was simply made for you to use however you wished. he felt your warm breath fan across his face as you whispered encouragements to him. he felt each time your balls and thighs would make contact with his rear. he felt a haze begin to fog up his mind and prevent him from think about anything but the way you were methodically drilling into him. his arms wrapped around your torso to draw you even nearer, his nails digging into your shoulder blades to ground himself.

“you feel too good...” you moaned out quietly, your words having quite the effect on lewis. he felt all tingly as your voice stuck to the inner walls of his skull and persistently hammered at his brain, infusing what you had said into the darkest corners of his mind. he won’t forget the sultry tone you held when you said that – not for a very long time.

he never knew it could feel like this, being on the receiving end, but it certainly shed some clarity on his confusion and defeated the blur that censored his heart. lewis knew what he was, and he was more than ok with it.

“y/n... don’t stop...” he whined, influenced by the pleasure bubbling at his core from you gently fucking him.

that was all the invigoration you needed before you snaked a hand around lewis’ waist, finding purchase on the small of his back to elevate him a few inches off the mattress. the modest alteration allowed for your cock to venture deeper inside him with each thrust, and for your tip to knock his prostate, causing him cry out and arch up into you. his hands raked down your back, possibly leaving red stripes in the aftermath, and his head rolled back, leaving his tattooed neck exposed for you to kiss and leave a few love bites should he let you.

lewis moaned loudly, a bit louder than he would’ve liked for a hotel room. typically, if it were a woman, he’d have no issues – hell he’d encourage a bit of volume. he’d want the world to know. in this case, he definitely didn’t want anyone to know he was being sodomised. god forbid it reached the media, he’d never live down the copious amounts of controversy that would spark up.

but that wasn’t on his mind right now, nothing was, nothing except you. you had stripped away his ability to focus on anything except the pleasure sailing through his veins, the kind that liquified his brain and set his body aflame. it was one thing being inside someone and a completely different thing having someone inside you. lewis decided that he quite liked both.

lewis' body jolted with each firm from thrust from you, your bodies meshed perfectly like yin and yang. he couldn’t stop his eyes from rolling to the back of his head when your other hand flew down to stroke his neglected cock in tandem with your solid thrusts. your thumb brushed over his swollen, oozing tip, collecting his juices on the pad of your finger. you then brought that hand up to his face, prodding your thumb past his already agape lips and smeared his taste all over his own tongue. lewis moaned again, the saltiness of it suddenly made him feel parched and filthy in only the best way. he couldn’t stop himself from lapping at your finger eagerly.

“lewis... i-i'm close...” you keened as your thumb, much to his dismay, slipped out of his mouth, tugging at his bottom lip one last time before returning to his cock. he choked out a little giggle through his moan, his hips bucking up into your hand.

“already?” he teased, although in no position to do so. he smirked up at you.

“yeah...” you sigh out shamelessly, too focused on the tight coil in the pit of your stomach that threatened to snap at any moment to care about his playful tease. lewis let out a long hum.

“me too...” he said, which made you giggle in return.

“already?” you jest, shooting back the same mischievous look he had given you.

“shut up.”

the bout of banter soon eluded your minds as your thrusts became more ragged and desperate, and the necessity to cum became devastatingly unbearable in the sordid instant. lewis whined under his breath, his mouth frantically chased yours in a lip lock of spit and tongue as he clenched around you. hard. all his muscles tensed as you devoured his muffled moans, your fist gripping him like a vice. you felt his juices leaking all down your fingers, wet and glistening in the dim light provided by the moonlight seeping through the blinds. he arched up into you as you bucked into him like a wild animal in heat, chasing the high that had been evading obtainability – like it was just taunting you, dragging you around and drawing this out longer than you intended. you had no complaints whatsoever.

lewis pulled off your lips to bury his face in your neck, his beard scratched you and his heavy breath condensed – it only further concentrated the hot and sticky sheen of sweat on your skin - but you could not give less of a shit when you were balls deep inside him and on the brink of an orgasm.

“y/n... y/n- please” he choked out as he felt himself about to burst, saying your name over and over like a prayer. you couldn’t ignore his pleas, and you snapped your hips into him just a bit faster, the sound of skin slapping gradually magnifying.

“cum for me, lewis...”

your words made him feel high. adrenaline surged through his veins at the same intensity as when he was flying at 300kmh on the track, except this time the whole world wasn’t watching him, counting on him to make it past the finish line. it was just you, him, and the sins you would probably never speak of again. he'd have it no other way.

with a loud cry of your name that he tried to muffle in the crook of your neck, lewis was tipped over the edge by a particularly hard thrust from you that made his vision tunnel and blur. hot ropes of cum uncontrollably spurt out, painting your hand and his belly white – his cum was sandwiched between your stomachs and sticking your skin – decorating the compass tattooed on his torso. just the sight of his cock twitching and trickling bodily fluids was enough to have you thrown past your limit as well. you came hard within the confines of the condom – the rubber effectively containing what would’ve been a mighty mess – as your hips stopped moving and just rested against him, his hole like a boa constrictor as it milked you for every single drop you had.

you both panted as you stayed inside lewis for just a little while longer, not wanting to pull out from his warmth just yet – you don’t think he wanted you to pull out yet either. and you were more than ok with that.

“woah...” was all lewis could muster as he took a beat to catch his breath.

“woah, indeed...” you replied, too taking deep breaths to regulate yourself.

lewis felt like he was on a cloud that was drifting away to another realm. his head was fuzzy, in a good way, and he felt weightless in your arms as you peppered kisses all over the lion tattoo on his pec, creeping up to his shoulder and neck. all was quiet as you just basked in the blissful aftermath of your obscene activities, until lewis found his voice.

“we should do that again...” he said quietly, eagerly, pulling back so his gaze could meet yours. “...but without the condom.”

i wanna fuck the shit outta this man

might go cry rq

-leo :3

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton fanfic #male reader #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 smut

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thegirlwhorideslikeasamurai · 3 months

Text

Viktor: "The time to seduce me with beautiful women and katsudon is over. You can fight with your own charm now." Yuuri (suddenly all possessive): "Don't take your eyes off me!" Viktor (utterly clueless): He's so different today. I wonder what has flipped his switch.

Recently, I've found myself coming back to this scene over and over as I was reconsidering the link between the progress of Viktuuri and Yuuri's understanding of Eros. For years, I was convinced that Yuuri had grasped the concept of Eros in episode 6, but (and this is probably controversial) I no longer believe that is true.

So, what happens in episode 6?

While the events during the weeks between the press conference and the Cup of China are open to speculation, the subtext of episode 6 us some cues as to where Yuuri and Viktor currently are in their relationship (the hugging, the cuddling, you know).

In this sense, the short dialogue before Yuuri's short programme, tells us that:

So far, Yuuri hasn't seduced Viktor as himself.

Viktor thinks Yuuri is ready to do exactly that.

They are dating (note the lover's bind aka the lacing of the fingers, which is an expression of romantic intimacy in Japan)

Yuuri's reaction is untypically fierce and possessive.

Viktor has not the slightest clue what triggered Yuuri's response. When put into the context of the whole story, this gives us another hint that Yuuri possibly can't have seduced Viktor prior to the competition. If he had (be it on or off-ice), Viktor would no longer react surprised. (You can actually see the difference in episode 8).

However, Yuuri and Viktor are in entirely different headspaces, which becomes obvious if we think back to the events in the mixed zone. Viktor feels that it's time to gently nudge Yuuri towards a more intimate stage of their relationship. However, Yuuri is upset because just learned that everyone wants Viktor to give up on him and return to competition. He is convinced that Viktor's fans will deem him a poor replacement for Viktor if Viktor keeps coaching him. He thinks that he would disappoint his own fans if the returns to where he was before Viktor. The only option left is pressing ahead on the path he's already on and thus works himself up into wanting to be hated as the man who took Viktor Nikiforov from the world.

With that mindset, Yuuri steps onto the ice.

Viktor's confused reaction when Yuuri storms off shows us something else: He doesn't have the slightest clue that Yuuri is upset because of things that happened right before the short programme. The subtext of the scene implies that he interprets Yuuri's reaction as a sign that Yuuri is indeed ready to seduce him. The lip-licking and all the sensuality Yuuri pours into his immaculate performance must seem from his perspective as if Yuuri truly wants him. He's not entirely wrong about that, but he isn't entirely right either.

Yuuri's eros is dominant and possessive. Several months have passed since the first time he skated Eros to seduce Viktor, but their relationship and Yuuri's understanding of Viktor has deepened since. His eros has evolved into a violent force of nature. His skating no longer is about "seducing" Viktor to stay his coach, he's showing the world (and Viktor) that Viktor is his and his alone and that he is all that Viktor wants ("I'm the only one who can satisfy Viktor. I'm the only one who understands Viktor's love"). And he goes out puling all the stops. And at the next competition, he's going to double down on that. Sounds kinky? It absolutely is.

Ever wonder why Viktor is so flustered right after Yuuri's skate? That's why. This precious boy felt seduced through-and-through by Yuuri's performance.

Viktor: "Yuuri, did it feel that great?" Yuuri: "I was hoping everyone else felt great watching me." Viktor (basically talking about himself): "Of course, they felt great watching a performance like that."

Remember that I said that Viktor has a totally different grasp of the situation than Yuuri because he doesn't know what Yuuri is going through? Viktor projects his own state of arousal from watching Yuuri on Yuuri. But Yuuri is not a second Chris and his response reinforces the implications made above based his inner monologue before and during his performance: He wanted to give "the audience" a good time aka making Viktor feel seduced and convincing the skating world that he is worthy to skate in Viktor's stead.

Learning that "everyone" (and most of all Viktor) had a "good time", is an important step for Yuuri in mastering his short programme:

In episode 6, Yuuri truly understands the power he has over Viktor and what he can do to Viktor with his skating alone.

So far, Yuuri has had a hard time grasping eros, using all kinds of workarounds (food, women etc.). He has refined this understanding as his relationship with Viktor deepened, he has learned to express himself in a sensual manner, but it doesn't come naturally to him. In episode 6, he finally understands that he has the power to turn Viktor on and what exactly he must do to achieve that. He's still using workarounds and these are 100% Yuuri, and because of that, they are successful. Even if he never understands eros beyond the abstract theory, he now has acquired the set of tools to hone is performance and to seduce Viktor if he sets his mind on it. (Yes, this anxious katsudon fatale has some massive kinks and they work for him and Viktor, and I will die on that hill.)

But what about the banquet?

Drunken horniness due to dancing physically with his celebrity crush. Friction is a thing. And let's be honest: otherwise, the whole "grasping eros" story arc would make no sense. Either you have an innate sense of that concept or you don't, and memory gaps can't explain that away.

(No, I'm still on a break from posting meta, but I've been agonising over this for quite a while and had to get it out of my system because I'm currently fixing some stuff related to this in my novelisation.)

If you like my meta, please check out my works on AO3 (link in bio).

Last but not least many thanks to cecebeanie for a discussion that set this thought process in motion 💜💙

#yuri on ice #katsuki yuuri #viktor nikiforov #yoi meta #my yoi meta #viktuuri #yoi #yuri on ice meta #one love: eros #this took me only 3 years to figure out because I wasn't aware I didn't get eros either lol #discussion is appreciated but please stay respectful and polite #please don't respond to this post if you only want to argue

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solarissun · 2 months

Text

We are never, ever getting back together (pt 2)

afab!reader x Mike Schmidt

pt 1

WC: 3k

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, enemies to lover, afab reader, angst, mentions of alcohol, mentions of intoxication, slow burn, mentions of child abuse, no use of y/n, aged up character

A/N: I want to apologize for any confusion the first chapter might have caused! This fic is a Mike Schmidt fic. It's just a slow burn/somewhat(?) of a love triangle and I thought adding Clapton would be funny. (plus I’m in love with him…) Before you read, just as a warning, this chapter gets pretty deep.

Enjoy!

tags: @h3llo-k1tt @caminterrupted @jhutchismyl0verb0y

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It's been almost a month since you and Clapton's hookup. He's been texting you nonstop. Text after text floods in, and you ignore them all. You feel bad, but you’re too embarrassed to even face him. You sigh, flipping open to Clapton’s contact to read the new heap of texts.

U good?

Miss you. Hope that ur ok.

Wanna hang?

Helloooo?

Okay. Just wanted to let you know I’m thinking of u.

You groan, slamming your phone back down on the bedside table. You enjoyed the night you two had, and it felt great at the time. But now you just feel like shit. Now all you think about is Mike, and how disgusted he was with you. While you’re thinking about Mike, you realize you haven’t seen or heard him in weeks. He’s been out of his apartment way more than usual, and you’re sure he's avoiding you. To be honest, you don’t blame him. If he pulled that on you, you’d up and leave.

You lay back down on the couch, grabbing the remote and turning on a movie, desperate to think of anything else but Mike or Clapton. Suddenly, you hear frantic knocking on your door. You reach for the remote and pause the TV. You sit silently for a minute, wondering if you were hearing things. Not only is it 8 pm on a Saturday, but you also aren’t expecting any guests. Who could possibly be knocking on your door? As you're about to un-pause the TV, more knocks echo and bounce off the walls.

You slowly get up from the couch, and wearily walk over to the door. You shift to the balls of your feet, trying to peer through the peephole. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion as all you see is the top of someone's head. You slowly wrap your hand along the cold metal of the knob, slowly turning it open. Your eyes widen as you see Abby on the other side.

Her face lights up, her eyes practically glowing. She squeals, bolting over to you and wrapping her arms around your waist. “Abby!” You scream, pulling her into you.

“I missed you so much! Mike said you moved away to your castle to be a princess!” You scoff inwardly, Mike’s lie making you despise him even more. "Where is your castle, by the way?" You glance down at her, ready to make up some insane lie. Before you get the chance, you look to your left, seeing Mike skirt around the corner, bee-lining towards you. He’s panting, his face red. “Shit- I’m... Sorry. She’s so fast.” You plaster a sickly sweet smile on your face, ensuring Abby doesn’t notice the hostility between you.

Mike takes Abby’s hands, prying her off you. “Heyy! I want to play with her! Please! Please, Mike!” She whines, giving Mike her best puppy eyes. He looks up at you, a guilty look falling over his features. He shrugs at you, waiting for your response. “Okay, come in!” You say, focusing on the little girl in front of you instead of Mike. The two of them walk into your apartment, Mike clearly not wanting her to be alone with you. You give him a dirty look and he rolls his eyes. Luckily, Abby’s too focused on your decor to notice or even care.

She runs around your apartment, oohing and ahhing at every fuzzy pillow and every cute decoration lining your shelves. She opens your bedroom door, and you think she’s about to explode. She looks back at you, her eyes wide. “You can go in.” You say, giggling as she wastes no time to roll around in all the stuffed animals you still keep on your bed. You quickly follow behind her, flinging yourself in the pile. Mike leans against the door frame, smiling as he watches you both stand up and jump up and down the bed. Abby stops, her eyes catching on something on your bedside table. She jumps down, her feet landing on the plush carpet. She grabs a heart locket off your bedside table, holding it up to the light. “Woah! This is so pretty!”

You immediately freeze, your face almost lighting on fire. You quickly grab it out of her hands, stuffing it in a drawer. “Mhm, so pretty! Why don’t we get out of the bedroom?” You steer her out of the room, sliding around Mike. You loved her with all your being, but her lack of an attention span seemed like it was out to get you.

As Abby sits down on the couch, you look over at Mike. His eyes are wide and his eyebrows are furrowed. He glances back into your room, the locket he got you for your 3rd anniversary haphazardly hanging out of the drawer. You both stare at each other for what feels like forever.

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Mike opens your front door, not even bothering to announce his arrival. He sits down next to you, a huge smile on his face. “What?” You mirror his smile, confused as to what he might be so excited about. “Okay, I know our anniversary isn't for a few days but I- I just couldn’t wait. I'm sorry it's cheap, I couldn’t afford much.” He says, awkwardly.

He reaches into his hoodie pocket, taking out a velvet box. You look up at him sweetly, gasping as you open it. You pull out a heart-shaped locket. You feel your eyes well up as you open it, reading the words engraved inside.

“I’ll love you forever and Always, Mike.”

You fling yourself onto him and you wrap your arms around his waist. He pulls you into him kissing you sweetly. In between kisses you mumble out, “I love you so much.” You feel so loved and so grateful that you met someone like him. You didn’t care about the money, he was worth so much more than gold or diamonds to you.

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You shake your head, pushing the memories out of your mind. Mike looks away from you, his cheeks growing rosey. You sigh loudly, sitting down next to Abby. Over the next few hours, you and Abby color what feels like a thousand different sheets of paper.

By 11 pm, you’re both lying down on the floor, markers and papers scattered all across your living room. Mike watches from the couch, telling Abby a story as she draws him. A few times, you both glance at each other, but you both quickly turn your gaze to Abby instead. After Abby finishes her drawing, she holds it up to you and him. “It's so good!” Mike says, taking the paper out of her hand. He starts pointing out small little details Abby included, gushing over each and every one. You’re utterly entranced as you watch him.

You miss him so much.

Your eyes widen and bite your cheek, wanting to slap yourself across the face for even thinking that. He abandoned you. That’s it.

But.. He loved you so much. Or at least you thought so. How could he just up and leave without a word? You wanted desperately for there to be any other reason. A part of you was convinced there actually was. You bite down harder, a salty metal taste erupting across your tongue.

Whatever happened, he left. That’s it. There’s no excuse. You clench your jaw, trying to ignore the roller coaster that’s running through your mind. Maybe… Maybe for now you can forget your distaste for him. Just for a few minutes.

You smile softly as he and Abby burst out laughing.

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They leave. Too soon. As soon as the door shuts behind the both of them, the apartment is filled with deafening silence. You lay down on the hardware floor, the cold wood seeping through your shirt and biting into your back.

You never realized how much you truly missed Mike and Abby until you saw them tonight. Or… Maybe you just missed having someone to wake up to every day. Whatever it is, you shake it off and crawl onto the couch, too sad to walk a few feet to your bed. You pull a soft blanket over you, the edge of it just barely covering your feet.

You slowly drift off to sleep, dreaming of a time when you and Mike weren’t basically sending bombs to each other's front doors.

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You bolt awake, sweaty and shaky. You look around, your heart beating out of your chest. You’re unsure of what woke you up, but it scared the shit out of you. Listening closer, you hear crying, no, wailing. And it’s coming from next door. You quickly bolt up, running to your door. But, you pause as soon as you reach it. You don't want to get involved with Mike and Abby's life more than you have to. Plus, it could just be one of her usual tantrums. It could even just be something as trivial as a burnt breakfast. You pivot, turning back towards the couch. As soon as you hear screaming, you tear up all of your inhibitions and run into the hall. When you reach Mike’s door, it flies open and a woman storms out, dragging an inconsolable Abby out.

The woman, who you recognize as Mike’s aunt, is gripping Abby’s arm so hard that the skin around her fingers turns white. Mike runs out of his apartment pleading with her, “You can see she doesn’t want to go! Please, just-” Abby digs her heels into the ground grabbing Mike's shirt with her free hand. Jane yanks Abby to her side, pulling her away from her brother. “I guess I’ll have to go to the police and tell them you kidnapped my niece! I have sole custody, not you, Michael!” Mike’s eyes go wide, the color draining from his face. He takes a step back, putting as much distance between him and Jane as possible.

You watch in shock, beyond confused about what had gone down during the two years you were broken up. “You truly are a despicable woman.” He says, disgust dripping from his voice. Mike crouches down, getting eye level with Abby. “Abby, I’ll see you soon. I promise, okay?.” His voice cracks as he reaches out, wiping her tears with his thumb. Abby wiggles out of her Aunt’s grip, running forward to wrap her arms around him. He pulls her closer as she sobs into his sweater. Aunt Jane rolls her eyes and then rips Abby away with absolutely no remorse. She drags her down the hall, turning the corner, and disappearing completely.

He sits down, pressing his back against the wall. He exhales, tilting his head back and staring into the fluorescent lights. You cautiously take a step towards him, “Mike…?” He looks over at you, his jaw clenching as he sees you. “Still can’t seem to mind your own business, huh?” He scoffs, his eyes turning away from you. You pause, crouching next to him. You desperately want to comfort him, but you just don't know how. “Can.. Can I do anything?” He looks over at you, his face twisting into a death stare. “For starters, you can leave me alone.” You flinch, feeling a wave of sadness rush over you. You can’t even imagine how he feels. “Mike, please..” You reach out, your hand brushing his.

He slaps your hand away, and screams, “I said leave me the fuck alone!” You stand up, taking a step backward. “I’m sorry for having a fucking heart, Mike!” He laughs, standing up. “Oh, you have a heart? Did you ever tell Clapton why you called him at 2 in the fucking morning?” You look away from him, swallowing. “That's what I thought. Leave me the fuck alone, and stay out of my life!” You feel tears burning your eyes, threatening to spill over. Your lip quivers as you speak, “All... All I wanted to do was help.”

“This is exactly why I left you.” He turns away, storming into his apartment. As soon as the door hits the frame you break down, falling to your knees in the middle of the hall.

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You’ve been crying for hours straight, the tears seemingly having no end. Your pillow is drenched and tissues are splayed out all over your comforter. As you wallow in despair, the sun slowly sinks further across the sky, the only light illuminating your room being the white glow of the moon. It’s crazy to you how two entire years after your separation, Mike is still making you feel so extremely worthless. You could never be enough for him, no matter how hard you tried. What you hated most though, is that he had a point. You used Clapton. For your own sick and twisted reasons, you used him. And you hated yourself for it.

Just as you begin to sob harder, you hear a thud against the wall, coming from the hallway. The sound echoes through the walls again, and it sounds almost like someone ran into it. You hear someone grunt and struggle, cursing. You recognize the voice and you groan, taking everything in you not to get up and check on him.

Suddenly, it feels like someone takes control of your body as you walk to your door, stepping into the hallway. You see Mike fumbling with his keys, missing the keyhole every time. He’s clearly very intoxicated. It’s surreal seeing him in such a way. He never drank when you were with him, he always told you he had to make sure Abby was always looked after and always had someone to turn to. Now that she’s not here, you guess he decided nothing is stopping him from getting shitfaced.

You walk over to him, grabbing the keys out of his hands, and unlocking the door yourself. He looks over at you, and any ounce of disdain he held for you from earlier disappeared. “Thanks..” He says quietly. You invite yourself in, making sure he gets to the couch without hurting himself. You avoid eye contact the whole time, knowing if you glance at him for even a second you’d burst out into tears.

Once he’s settled, you turn to walk away, but you feel his hand grasp your wrist, stopping you. “Please... Please stay.” He pleads. You sigh, removing his hand from you. “I can’t keep doing this Mike…” You say, finally turning towards him. He has a guilty look on his face, and he suddenly can’t seem to look at you. “I... I didn’t mean it..” He slurs, his face tipped towards the ground.

You sit down next to him, your eyebrows raised. “You didn’t mean what..?” You question. “You know. What I said earlier. I do want you in my life…” He says, his eyes tracing the floorboards. You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Mike, you’re drunk.” He shakes his head, finally making eye contact. “I swear. I do. I mean.. just look at you. I treated you like dirt and you’re still helping me? You’re just.. so.. so nice.” You frown, wishing so badly he was sober. “You don’t know what you’re saying.” He reaches out, his warm hand cupping your face. His eyes bore into yours as he speaks. “I’m not ever going to lie to you again. I promise.” You’re not sure exactly what he means by “again” but you brush it off, chalking it up to more alcohol-induced rambles.

You stand up, Mike’s hand leaving your face and falling back to his lap. “I’m going to get you a glass of water, okay?” He nods, following your every move and watching you as you walk around his kitchen.

Your eyes begin dancing around every framed picture he has and every drawing Abby made he has clipped to the fridge. Your eyes settle on a picture of you, him, and Abby at an amusement park, almost exactly a month before he left you. You pick it up, your thumb rubbing over the scratches in the frame. That trip was unforgettable. That was the day you knew he’d be the one you’d spend the rest of your life with. You couldn’t imagine a world without him or Abby. You put it back, wondering why he still has it.

You fill up a glass, taking it back over to him. He drinks it in one gulp and he hiccups once it’s all gone. You place your hand on his chest, slowly pushing him back to get him to lie down. He takes the hint, lying back down on the couch. Your hand lingers there for a moment too long, but you quickly tear it away when he smiles up at you. The smile is still plastered on his face as he watches you drape a blanket over him. His eyes slip shut as he turns on his side, pulling the blanket to his chin.

You look down at him for a few moments. You just don’t understand how one moment you could hate him more than anything, and the next wish everything could go back to the way it used to be. You were half of yourself without him, and just as you started to feel complete he just had to infiltrate his way back into your life. As you watch his chest rise and fall, you just can’t help but still love him. Sadly, nothing was ever going to change that.

You slowly creep towards the door, the floorboards creaking under you. He speaks so quietly you almost don’t hear him, “There was never another girl..” You freeze and turn back to look at him. “What?” Is all you can say. He doesn’t give you any explanation for what he just grumbled. You convince yourself you’re crazy and you’re just hearing things.

That night, you don’t sleep at all. You keep replaying that moment in your head, over and over.

“There was never another girl.”

#jhutch #josh hutcherson #mike schmidt #mike schimdt x reader #agnst #fanfic #enemies to lovers #josh hutcherson x reader #mike schimdt x you #fnaf movie #clapton davis

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eksvaized · 3 months

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Part One König / Ghost / Reader [ Previous 〡 Next ] ︱AO3 ︱Wattpad ︱ taglist: - (if you want to be added - let me know!)

since I finished editing 'just friends', I decided to rewrite & edit this story, so I hope you'll enjoy the new version! <3

Each morning, you awaken alone. The enormous bed, once filled with warmth, now cold and empty. Today, your morning isn't any different from the countless ones that have come before. As you roll onto your side, your hand stretches out, tracing the cool, empty expanse of the mattress. Your fingers curl around the frosty pillow, its fabric still bearing the faintest scent of him. You draw it closer to you, clutching at it in a futile attempt to fill the void that is left by your boyfriend and his lack of presence.

A sigh, barely audible, escapes your lips as a wave of loneliness engulfs you. Its icy tendrils wrap tightly around your heart, constricting it in a bitter reminder of your solitude. You yearn for a morning where you can flutter open your eyes to find König next to you, his arms securely wrapped around your body, his breath warm against your skin. You long to see him still sleeping, his face relaxed in peaceful slumber, instead of disappearing and getting out of bed as soon as the first rays of sunshine peek through the window. A longing for the soft whispers of "good morning" and the gentle comfort of his embrace fills you, making the emptiness of the bed all the more pathetic.

The first two years of your relationship with König were great. You were happy, genuinely happy, and over the moon because you finally had someone in your life, who truly cared about you, who showered you with attention and affection, and even lavished you with expensive gifts. You felt cherished and valued, and it was a feeling unlike anything you had ever experienced before.

However, as of late, König has transformed into someone unrecognizable. He is still your boyfriend; you love him very much, and he probably loves you even more. Yet, his demeanour, his behaviour, and the manner in which he has started to conduct himself have left you in a state of constant questioning. The love you once never doubted now seems uncertain, as his actions and attitude have begun to paint a different picture—he's not the man you met and fell in love with two years ago.

Sometimes, usually after a couple glasses of wine when you've gathered the courage, you dare to confront him about his nonchalant attitude towards you. In these moments of newfound bravery, you bombard him with questions, desperately seeking to understand if it's something you are doing that causes him to act as if he couldn't care less about you or your feelings. But no matter how earnestly you implore, he never gives you the answers you're looking for. He never provides any concrete explanations or reasons for his indifference.

He has a myriad of excuses for why he doesn't want to engage with you about your concerns. The reasons are countless and they change each time, just like shifting sands, always elusive and never consistent. You've heard a variety of them. For instance, he might dismiss your confrontation because of you being wine drunk, suggesting that you should go to bed. Another time, he might say he's too tired to engage in a deep conversation and promise to talk with you in the morning.

But perhaps the one that stings the most, your least favourite, is when he pretends he didn't hear you. Even when you're standing directly in front of him, looking at him with teary eyes, and pouring out your heart, he chooses to feign ignorance and act as though he didn't hear a single word. This cold dismissal is far worse than any words he could say.

Although he's cold with you, he never never displays any outright cruelty. Still, you can't help but notice the chilly detachment that has creeps into his voice when he talks with you. It's as if a frost has settled over your conversations, making each word feel like a shard of ice. Or the flicker of irritation that now seems to have taken up permanent residence in his eyes whenever he comes home and sees you. It's as if he's looking through you rather than at you, seeing not the person you are but the person he wishes you were.

König has constructed around himself an impenetrable wall. A wall so thick and so high that no matter how much you chip away at it, no matter how hard you try to scale its heights, it remains steadfast. It stands there as a constant reminder of the gulf that has opened up between you two—a gulf that seems to widen with each passing day.

You find yourself continuously attempting to convince your own mind that this is merely a fleeting phase, a temporary hiccup in your relationship. Every relationship, after all, has its own set of struggles and hurdles to overcome. It's normal, you tell yourself, maybe all you need to do is to be patient and wait it out. Time has a way of healing wounds and mending bridges, and perhaps a little more of it could be the magic potion that brings everything back to the way it used to be - normal and simple.

However, despite your best efforts to suppress it, there's a harsh, cruel voice that resides in the deepest recesses of your mind, nagging persistently. It casts a dark shadow of doubt over your thoughts, suggesting with an unsettling certainty that maybe, just maybe, the once deep love that existed between you and him is gradually, and painfully, fading away into oblivion.

You are brewing coffee, desperately hoping that the invigorating aroma and the caffeine would help to dissipate the remnants of sleep that linger stubbornly within you. The quiet solitude of the early morning embraces you, punctuated only by the gentle hum of the brewing machine and the occasional chirping of a bird outside.

But suddenly, the tranquillity of the moment shatters like glass as the front door swings open with a force that rings through the house. This abrupt entrance is quickly followed by the distinct, rhythmic thud of heavy boots making their way down the lengthy corridor. Each footfall sends a reverberation through the floorboards. The sound is so familiar, yet it sends a jolt through your heart. You don't even need to turn around to know - König has returned home.

Over the past few weeks, you've found yourself walking on eggshells around him. It feels as though the surrounding air has become thin and brittle, ready to shatter at the slightest misstep. You've been constantly monitoring your words and actions, choosing them with careful deliberation so as not to accidentally exacerbate his increasingly volatile mood, which has been fluctuating more frequently as days pass. But when he finally appears in the doorway of the kitchen, his face etched with deep lines of exhaustion and his eyes vacant, you find the words tumbling out of your mouth before you can stop them.

"What's wrong?"

His response is curt, delivered with an air of finality that leaves no room for further questions. "Nothing you need to worry about, liebling," he says, attempting to alleviate the palpable tension in the kitchen with a smile. But it's strained, fragile, like a piece of glass that's on the verge of shattering. The corners of his lips quiver slightly, an involuntary reaction betraying his inner turmoil. The frown lines etched deep on his forehead refuse to disappear, stubbornly present even as he tries to mask his emotions.

He closes the distance between you, his footsteps echoing in the silence. He leans in to plant a brief, fleeting kiss on your forehead, his lips colder than you remember, their warmth replaced by a chill that sends a shiver down your spine. As he continues his task, his hand reaches up to retrieve a cup from the cupboard above your head. You can't help but notice the new changes in him. His movements lack their usual grace, his touch feels mechanical, and his caresses are devoid of the genuine affection you've grown accustomed to. It's as if he's simply operating on autopilot, his mind evidently elsewhere.

You yearn for him to confide in you, to share his burdens and let you in on the whirlwind of thoughts that seem to be plaguing him. You wish to be his solace, to help him navigate through his sea of worries. More than anything, you want to help him, to alleviate his worries and bring back the man you know and love. But how can you do that if he refuses to let you in, if he remains so stubbornly silent, his emotions locked up tighter than a fortress?

"I'm leaving tomorrow. Have another mission. It's going to be a short one," König finally says, his gaze piercing you with an intensity that suggests he's expecting you to blow up.

However, you strive to maintain your composure. You have no intention of descending into another fruitless argument; every time he leaves after a fight, you feel awful for the way you acted.

"It's only been a week since you've returned home," you say, your eyes focused on the steaming cup cradled in your hands. The heat radiating from the cup is causing your fingertips to tingle, and the steam is lightly brushing against your skin. Despite the discomfort, you hold on to it with a firm grip. "I thought you were going to stay for at least another week. We had plans, remember? You gave me your word—."

He cuts you off before you can complete your sentence. "Plans have changed."

There have been countless times when you've wanted to confront König, to ask him directly why he finds it so challenging to uphold the promises that he so confidently makes. Yet each time you find yourself holding back, fully aware that such a conversation would be futile and would only result in both of you raising your voices in frustration. It has become painfully clear that he has no intention of discussing work-related matters with you.

König has a habit of offering reassurances that are devoid of any real comfort. He frequently insists that it's silly for you to burden your mind with matters that, in his opinion, do not directly concern you. This line of reasoning, though flawed, he presents as if it were an undeniable truth. And if, despite his attempts to dissuade you, you still muster the courage to press further, he always has a fallback. He always abruptly ends the conversation, leaving you hanging with a parting remark that it would be safer, better for you, if you remained ignorant.

* * *

As dawn breaks, you stir from your slumber only to find yourself enveloped once again by the cold emptiness of the bed beside you. The dreary grey skies outside mirror your inner turmoil. Raindrops pitter-patter gently against the windowpane. König didn't even bother waking you up before leaving. Yet, his absence is punctuated by a hastily scrawled note left carelessly on the nightstand. The message is brief and impersonal, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth: 'had to get up early, didn't want to wake you up. see you soon.'

Was it really so difficult to scribble three more words?

With a soft sigh, you whisper into the stillness of the bedroom, "I love you, too." The words, left unsaid by him, hang heavy in the air. You clutch the note in your hand before crumpling it and aimlessly tossing it onto the mattress.

With a great deal of effort, you pull yourself from the warm embrace of the bed, your feet reluctantly making contact with the icy floor beneath. You pause for a second, collecting your scattered thoughts, allowing the remnants of sleep to fade away as you mentally prepare yourself for yet another day.

Slowly, you venture through the hauntingly silent house, each step echoing through the stillness of the early morning. Each room you pass through seems to reverberate with echoes of a thousand memories that seem to cling to the walls and linger in the air. Yet amidst the symphony of remembrances, there's one memory that stands out from the rest, a memory that refuses to be drowned out by the others. It's that heated argument with König, a fiery exchange of words and emotions that took place just a few months ago.

You vividly recall the sting of his dismissive attitude on that day when you bared your soul to him, accusing him bitterly of not taking your relationship as seriously as you did, accusing him of taking your love, your commitment, for granted as if it were an inconsequential thing.

In the depths of your heart, you wished fervently, desperately even, for him to just be honest with you if his feelings for you were slowly fading away, like the last embers of a once roaring fire. You wanted him to admit it if he no longer felt the same passion, the same affection that once seemed to radiate from him like a comforting warmth.

But instead of providing the honesty you craved, he had merely dismissed your concerns, brushed them aside like dust. He told you that you were imagining things, that it was all just a figment of your overactive imagination, assuring you with words that felt hollow, that nothing between you two had changed.

But by the day's end, he had taken a step that had left you reeling in confusion. He had asked you to move in with him, a grand gesture that he believed would dispel your doubts and insecurities, a gesture that he thought would reassure you of his commitment. But instead of providing the comfort he hoped it would, it merely added another layer of complexity to the turbulent sea of emotions within you.

Initially, there was a glimmer of hope, a faint belief that things were on the verge of improving. You harboured the thought that perhaps the physical distance, the living apart, had been the catalyst that dimmed the once vibrant flame of your relationship. However, as each day bled into the next, and weeks morphed into seemingly interminable months, the solitary confinement within these walls began to weigh heavily on you.

The more time you spent alone in this house, the more you found yourself yearning for the familiar corners of your old apartment, regretting the decision to sell it to relocate here. After all, you pondered, what difference does it make where you live? The four walls of a room are just that, and the absence of König made this house feel no different than your old apartment.

What was the point of moving in together if König was always away, prioritising his work and his duty as a soldier above you?

You shake your head, as if physically trying to dispel the thoughts that have begun to creep into your mind. You can't allow yourself to dwell on them any longer, to let them take root and cast a shadow over your day. After all, the day has only just begun and you don't want to end up sulking on the couch, a prisoner in your own home, wallowing in a sea of regret and loneliness.

You stroll into the kitchen. As you slowly approach the counter, your fingers lightly graze the cool, granite surface, your mind whirling with the endless possibilities of what to make for breakfast. Your gaze wanders aimlessly, eventually settling on the window that provides a picturesque view of the neighbourhood.

You squint against the bright sun, your eyes catching an unusual sight - a man, his face damp with sweat under the morning sun, is engaged in an arduous task of moving boxes from a truck to the house across the street. His movements are slow and meticulous, each box handled with care as if they contain something precious.

A new neighbour.

A sense of intrigue washes over you, an irresistible curiosity that grips your very being. It's a magnetic pull that holds your attention captive, rendering you incapable of tearing your gaze away from the scene unfolding before your eyes.

His house lies across the street, a good distance away, yet his features are strikingly apparent and impossible to ignore even from your secluded vantage point in the cosy confines of your kitchen. His stature is tall and imposing, a figure that commands attention. His shoulders are broad, his hair is a dishevelled mess of rich blond locks.

As the day wears on, you find yourself repeatedly drawn to the kitchen window. Every so often, the man would step outside to retrieve yet another box from his truck, providing you with fleeting glimpses of him.

You remind yourself that you are in a committed relationship. You know that ogling other men is not something you should be doing. It's not something you usually do, and it's certainly not something you want to make a habit of.

However, in the recesses of your mind, a voice tries to justify your actions. It whispers, seeking to ease your guilt. You're just looking. That's not really doing anything wrong, right? It's a feeble attempt at rationalizing, but it works nonetheless.

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dragonanon · 4 months

Text

Death!Reader and God!Brother head cannons

Note: you can thank @sherlockhomies-42 for this, my brain hasn’t known peace since I read their stuff about the reader being Death in Hazbin Hotel. And if I don’t get my thoughts out right now I might honestly combust. 🙃

Lore HCs:

- Before Hell, Earth, and even Heaven existed, there was nothing….Until by some cosmic miracle, God popped into existence. God started by building himself a luxurious paradise; the same paradise that would eventually become Heaven.

- God relished in his wonderful new home for a while, but quickly grew bored with being alone. So he began creating animals and other small creatures to keep him company. At first, this worked out great! But to an ageless, immortal being like God, several years felt like mere moments to him; and before he knew it, his beloved creations had become incredibly old and were in ever increasing pain and discomfort as they continued to age, and there was nothing God could do about it. All he could do was create life, and once life had been created God was powerless to do anything to stop it or take it away.

- Just when it seemed God would be forced to watch his creations suffer forever, another incredible miracle happened; you popped into existence. Sporting six mighty black wings and a set of horns gracing your head, you gently touched each of the suffering creatures, and with your touch each one FINALLY had their suffering come to an end as they died, and their now freed souls traveled down to a newly created realm to rest and wait for whatever came next; Limbo.

- God watched in awe as you gave his beloved friends what he couldn’t; an ending. God realized quickly, based on an instinctual pull he felt towards you, that whatever force had created him had clearly struck again, and brought you into existence.

- God was now in the presence of a being just as powerful as him, but while you may have been his equal in terms of how you both came to be and the sheer power you both held, your powers were VERY different from his; almost like they were the opposite of his. That’s when it dawns on him, you’re his sibling! His counterpart! If his powers are to begin and yours are to end, then you’re meant to bring balance to everything! After all, there can never be a beginning if there’s no end, and there can never be an end if there is no beginning.

- It’s then that you’re given your name; “Death”, and as both the younger sister of God and the only one capable of bringing an end to any life he creates, your very existence leads to you both creating balance in the universe for the very first time.

- As the first order of business, God started creating ageless beings, like the Seraphim and other Angelic beings. And with your input, he gave them the gift of sentience so they could all think, feel emotions, and communicate with each other and you and your older brother, and the ability to create just like him.

- At some point though, God started getting more lazy and careless, given he didn’t have to do much now that he’d created ageless beings capable of thinking and creating things themselves. He suddenly had more free time than he knew what to do with, and it culminated in him pretty much just sitting back in his fancy palace, and allowing allowing his children do as they pleased while he casually observed from time to time from the sidelines. (Dude basically just became super depressed because now he essentially had nothing to do, and felt like he no longer served any purpose in existing. He hasn’t told you or anyone about these feelings tho, just drinks himself silly everyday and vibes in his palace.)

- This annoyed you GREATLY as you now had to essentially step up and provide guidance to the Seraphim and other Angelic beings when they needed it, because your brother couldn’t even be bothered to do that. You started to resent God for his “hands off” approach to running things, while God began to resent you for being “nagging and controlling”.

- The resentment eventually boiled over when Lucifer and Lilith inadvertently created Hell, and the other Seraphim and Angelic beings banished them both into the realm they’d created. Outraged by what God’s lack of involvement had caused, you got into a nasty fight with him as you pleaded with him to intervene and FINALLY put an end to the chaos he’d allowed to run rampant for centuries. God vehemently refused, insisting that the Seraphim and Angelic beings knew what they were doing and didn’t need his input. Furthermore, God believed that the punishment was justified given it was their actions that caused evil to invade the Earth.

- You were getting NO WHERE in this argument, so for the sake of your own sanity, you returned to Limbo to continue your work of bringing death to those who needed it. Along with the new task of taking dead souls back to Limbo, where they would stay until you determined whether to send them to Heaven or Hell based on how the soul had behaved while alive.

- That’s how it went for centuries before you decided you needed a little break, and informed Heaven and Hell that you would be taking a well deserved nap. This would mean that they would need to work together to sort souls in the meantime, as your reapers would ensure that death still continued appropriately on Earth while you sleep. Heaven and Hell agreed to this, and with that you curled up in bed and went to sleep.

- Speaking of reapers, reapers are permanent residents in Limbo. They are neither Angels nor Demons, but they’re ageless all the same. God actually made the first reapers for you, so they’re essentially the Limbo equivalent of Seraphim and other Heaven born angelic beings. These reapers, often called “First Ones”, have sentience and emotions since they were created by God himself. So you typically have First Ones lead the other reapers.

- All the reapers you’ve obtained since the First Ones are Limbo’s equivalent of Sinners, often called “Hollows”. Hollows are souls who in order to avoid eternal suffering in Hell, instead opted to willingly relinquish their humanity entirely and become an undead being working for you. In giving up their humanity however, the souls lose their ability to feel anything whatsoever. They’re little more than robots; doing what they’re told and not questioning it, all while feeling absolutely nothing. They’re called “Hollows” because that’s essentially what they are, hollowed out husks that now only exist to serve you.

- Regardless of whether they’re a First One or Hollow though, they all have the same job; find the humans whom you’ve given death to, reap their souls from their bodies, and guide them down to Limbo and care for them until you’ve sorted them into Heaven or Hell. The only real difference is the First Ones are usually in charge of the Hollows, ensuring that the Hollows reap the correct souls and are doing their jobs.

- If you had only known what your absence would cause, you would’ve NEVER went to sleep. For as SOON as you were out, Heaven took it upon themselves to decide where the souls went, completely defying your orders that Heaven and Hell work TOGETHER to decide that. To add insult to injury, Heaven also became incredibly elitist and picky about who got into Heaven, and this resulted in a vast majority of souls being sent to Hell for even the smallest infractions. The unbalanced approach of sorting souls eventually caused the over population problem and subsequent annual exterminations.

- With Heaven’s incredible arrogance and Hell’s complicity in this, both realms are in for a VERY rude awakening when you eventually wake up prematurely and see what they all have done. You’re gonna read Sera, Lilith, Lucifer, Adam, Lute, AND God the riot act for fucking your shit up

Okay lore time over, here’s the silly, more generalized, shit you’ve all been waiting for!

- When making the Seraphim, God made them in your image. He really just wanted to show his love and appreciation for you in some way, and he decided the best way to that was by basing the physical appearances of his first sentient creations on you. Hence why all the Seraphim are beautiful and have six wings like you do. It was literally like a kid excitedly making a piece of macaroni art of their sibling and being super excited to show it off to them

- All of the beings directly created by God are considered his “children”, so they all refer to him as “father”. Given that you’re God’s younger sister though, it also technically makes them your “nieces/nephews/niblings” and it makes you their “aunt”. You get called “Aunt Death” or “Auntie Death” by them a lot, but you’re cool with it because you think it’s cute.

- You weren’t supposed to have any favorites, but you always did have a soft spot for Lucifer in particular. He reminded you a lot of how God used to be back when you’d first come into existence; so energetic and excited to create things. You affectionately called him your “favorite nephew”.

- You haven’t seen God since the fight you had with him after Lucifer’s banishment into Hell. You actually miss your older brother dearly, but you’re still so pissed at him that you don’t feel like talking to him for the foreseeable future. You temporarily go back on this decision long enough to chew God out for allowing his children to make a complete mess of your realm, and destroying the balance you worked so hard to create and maintain. You’re back to giving him the silent treatment after that.

- Limbo is ONLY accessible by you, Cerberus, dead souls, and your reapers. No one else is capable of entering Limbo, hence why everyone assumed that the exterminations were successful in getting rid of excess Sinners. In reality however, all the “killed” Sinners were really just getting yeeted back into Limbo for re-sorting since something that’s already dead can’t die again.

- The persistent wailing and cries of the millions and millions of souls who were now trapped in Limbo was eventually what managed to wake you up early from your nap. You were not pleased in the slightest.

- Despite having a very gothic and menacing appearance, you’re incredibly gentle and kind. You feel great honor in being the one tasked with giving everyone the ending they need and deserve, and you take pride in caring for the souls that may have to stay in Limbo for an extended period of time whilst you decide where they will go next.

- You take no satisfaction in having a send ANYONE to Hell. It doesn’t feel good to know that you’re condemning someone to an eternity of suffering, no matter how deserving of that punishment they may be. Hence why it can sometimes take awhile for you to decide where a soul goes, because you want to be sure you’re really making the right decision.

- You’re saddened by how much like your brother Lucifer has become after his banishment, and you wholeheartedly believe that the ONLY reason he hasn’t completely turned into his father is that he has Charlie to think of.

- You and God are both fucking MASSIVE in your true forms. Like, “skyscrapers BARELY reach your hips”, massive. You’re both capable of shrinking down to be able to better interact with people, but even at your smallest you STILL tower over most Sinners.

- You’re low key salty that Lucifer went and had a baby while you were sleeping, because you missed out on getting to play the role of “doting great aunt” while Charlie was growing up. You’re trying really hard to make up for the lost time by visiting frequently. Much to the minor annoyance of a certain radio demon who doesn’t like the feeling of being in the presence of someone FAR more powerful than him. He deals with it and is polite tho because it’s FAR better to have someone as powerful as you be an acquaintance than an enemy.

- You can walk the streets of Hell with complete impunity because everyone either knows EXACTLY who you are and goes out of their way to stay in your good graces, or they end up finding out real fucking quick that you are NOT to be messed with.

- That being said, your presence is generally more accepted in Hell than it is in Heaven. In Hell, you’re far more likely to be willingly approached and have a nice conversation with a Demon. Whereas in Heaven, everyone is scared shitless of you except for Emily and actively tries to avoid even making eye contact with you. It’s like pulling teeth just trying to get someone to tell you what time it is. Of course you can ask anyone in Heaven anything and they’ll respond because they’re too afraid not to lol. But they’ll look like they’re on the verge of fainting then entire time you’re talking to them.

- The aversion to you in Heaven gets better over time as you’re seen having friendly interactions with Emily, but most Angels still get a bit uneasy in your presence. Sera is one of them because she knows that you’re BEYOND pissed at her and she’s one more fuck up away from getting dragged to Limbo and being made into one of your reapers to serve you AND the souls she hurt.

- Much like sending souls to Hell, you get no satisfaction in turning someone into a Hollow. Completely stripping someone of their emotions and sentience is not an enjoyable experience, even if it does result in you getting more help in Limbo. Despite this, you’re still required to make this offer to all souls set to be sent to Hell. You do your best to explain though what the consequences of this decision are though, and thankfully most souls see what becoming a Hollow entails and opt to keep their humanity. However every now and then you’ll get few who insist that becoming a Hollow will be a better fate, so you end up with new reapers.

- Vox is BIG MAD that his biggest rival is now rubbing elbows with the LITERAL Goddess of death. Dumbass had no clue who you even were at first so he didn’t care, but as soon as found out you were Death, the ensuing meltdown he had knocked the power out for the whole Pride ring. Alastor is aware of how pissed Vox is about this, so he purposely goes out of his way to play up his interactions with you when he knows Vox is watching. He can practically hear Vox’s apoplectic screeching when he does it, and it brings him immense joy every time.

- You’re often accompanied by Cerberus; a massive, three headed, doglike beast. God made him for you as a gift AGES ago to be a bodyguard and companion for you. Not that you ever NEED a bodyguard, but the thought was appreciated all the same. You ADORE Cerberus, he is the goodest good boy that ever did a good in your book. Cerberus loves you just as much and loves to give you kisses and cuddles.

- Lucifer was dog sitting Cerberus for you while you slept. Cerberus was a little shit during this time because he missed you, so he would often purposely ignore any commands Lucifer gave him. Charlie loved him though and he was actually great with her, so Lucifer put up with it.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #death! reader #reader is death #death! reader head cannons #god these were fun to write #Lucifer trying to appeal to your generosity and mercy when you first storm into hell like:#‘Hello aunt Death! Wow you look great! Did you did you do something different with your hair? gosh it’s so good to see you!’#meanwhile internally he’s like: oh god oh fuck please don’t kill me please don’t kill me pleasedon’tkillmepleasedon’tkillmepleasedo-#you end up snorting and shrinking down from your true form to give him a hug and remark that he’s VERY lucky he’s your favorite nephew

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missycolorful · 1 month

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I'm on the fence about a lot of the "glass child" discussion because where I agree with some points that are made and enjoy the in depth analysis, I've come to severely disagree with others. Mostly because the internet is the internet, and the nuanced discussion has lost that nuance.

The reason this whole thing blew up (though it's been a concern for a while, certainly) was when Phil explained why he felt he needed to save Tallulah first before Chayanne. And you could tell Philza was trending cautious waters with his wording - he never wanted to say "oh, Chayanne's a chad, he'll get over it." With his wording, he recognized that neither were necessarily fine, but he still felt it necessary to prioritize one over the other because of one of his kid's big issues: Tallulah has abandonment issues. Maybe they're not as bad now since the "official adoption," but it certainly shouldn't be disregarded. But Phil remembers how much Tallulah hates being left alone, and wanted to make sure she wasn't in that situation long. Phil knew at the of the day, that Chayanne had no severe abandonment issues (that we are aware of), hence him saying he'd be okay "a bit longer." The prioritization is still there, and the Death family still has much to talk about, but the fandom's reactions felt a bit too... harsh, a bit too severe. They'd make it sound like Phil didn't consider Chayanne's feelings at all or that he thought Chayanne was totally going to be 100% okay with being alone forever and ever. When there's more to it than that, and ultimately, Phil was stuck making a decision in a lose-lose situation, and he knew that.

But a lot of people seem to focus solely on this moment, and let it epitomize the entirety of the Death Family's relationship and struggles. When, if anything, there's additional moments from yesterday's stream alone that I think show some slow growth in Philza's parenting when it comes to him being overprotective of Tallulah and him expecting a protector/warrior out of Chayanne.

Because if Phil really thought Chayanne was a ruthless warrior who can handle anything and be fine and get over it, he'd have let Chayanne immediately join them in their journey of saving Richarlyson. Like "If we've got Chayanne with us, nothing can hold us back" or something. But he didn't. He wanted both of his children to stay back, to stay safe. But his kids insisted on joining, even if just for emotional support. And if Phil really was completely stuck in his old ways, he'd say the old "Chayanne protect your sister" when the mobs starting showing up, or hell, even before that. But that never once happens. Both of his kids fight, and he trusted that they could both handle themselves since they insisted on coming along, though you can see him check on both of his kids once or twice during the fight. If this becomes a persistent thing, it shows great growth in Phil's character when it comes to being overprotective of his daughter and having his son prioritize her safety above all else. It's become more of "keep an eye on each other," which is definitely the preferrable kind of thinking!

And again, I emphasize that singular moments should not be the sole focus of these discussion. Rather, the overall actions throughout should be talked about. And honestly, Phil made sure that a lot of his focus was divided between both of his children throughout yesterday. When Chayanne decided to stay behind while the others went to the beach event to keep an eye on an AFK Tubbo, Phil decided to "hang about with you, kid, it's alright," even when Tallulah was long gone. Like, he wasn't going to let his kid sit alone like that waiting! Or when he got the llama plushie during the treasure hunt, I'd honestly have expected him to immediately give it to Tallulah because animals=Tallulah, I guess. But he asked them both which of them would have liked it more, a genuine attempt to make sure neither felt left out in receiving the gift. Yes, these, too, are small moments, but if we wanna have a discussion about these relationships, all these moments should at least be considered, not just the negatives.

And to me, the kind of consensus to make in these scenarios is that the situation at hand is... complicated. Like, Phil's parenting is flawed, I'd be a fool to say otherwise. All parenting is inherently flawed, that's basic psychology or... just how humans work. However, through his faults, he tries everything he is able to to do best by these kids. So, with all these moments and more, it never sat right with me to say Phil neglects Chayanne. I can almost see the case for "emotional neglect" a bit more, but even then, I find some fault in that thinking. Yes, qPhil is neurodivergent af, so he doesn't get emotional context clues and needs these discussion to be upfront in his face (which I already went into depth here regarding the relationship these two have). Put simply, any "emotional neglect" Chayanne feels isn't necessarily from Phil prioritizing Tallulah, but more so where Tallulah is more open with her feelings which makes it easier for Phil to talk to her about them, Chayanne has rarely ever been someone who opens up about feelings, and when you couple that with Phil's lack of emotional intelligence, these issues clash. However, it's important to note that a while ago, Chayanne had an open dialogue with Philza about Tubbo's death and how it affected him, and Phil was responsive to it. It'd be one thing if he told Chay to get over it, but no, he was very honest and kind to Chayanne during their talk. And afterward, Phil suggested for Chayanne that, if he ever needs to talk, to have them sit at the pier outside of their house. He extended an offering to Chayanne for emotional discussions. It was a great way for both of these people who are terrible at talking about their emotions to come together and talk. It highlights how Phil is very much okay with talking to Chayanne on an emotional level, and he has, and he will continue to be. They're just... both bad at it, sadly.

Finally, I think it's important to clarify what a glass child actually is, and if it fits the current narrative. A glass child is a child who is overlooked when their sibling is facing some sort of disability that makes the parent give the sibling their full attention, and often has the glass child help out a lot. Initially, Tallulah very much needed extra care due to her "asthma" and the fact she wasn't a great fighter who could protect herself. Hence why Phil and Chayanne were so overprotective of her and put a lot of focus on her. And for the longest time, Chayanne was okay with it, because she needed that help to survive on this hellish island. It's just that over time, things changed. These characters changed.

So it's not really like that for Tallulah now, is it? Her asthma is no longer as bad (it still happens, though!), and she's gained a lot of fighting experience over time. She can hold her own in a fight. And Phil no longer keeps that much of a paranoid eye on her; i.e. again, yesterday's stream where, even when they were fighting end monsters, he never shouted for her to get away or for Chayanne to protect her. In the early days, if Tallulah was even allowed to join, he'd have her stand back and ask Chayanne to keep an eye on her. But that doesn't happen here.

So nowadays? No, I don't think Chayanne could be considered a glass child. Because those disabilities aren't as much of a hindrance for Tallulah as they used to, and Phil isn't as paranoid about them as before. I think the effects are still there, in a way, but it doesn't fit where the characters currently stand. Ultimately, I think there are several reasons as to why things are as they are even if Chayanne may not be a glass child in the present. The big one being that Phil's not entirely adapted to the changes his children have gone through.

Especially after Purgatory, his children have gone through a lot and changed in the process; Tallulah became more independent, and Chayanne kind of being tired of being a warrior and needing more emotional support. And since he wasn't there to witness that change and only saw the aftermath, I think it's a struggle for him to come to terms with them. However, that doesn't mean he's entirely set in old ways. He's trained Tallulah on PVP, and again, he's allowed her to participate in fights without being super worried. And as I mentioned, he has extended a branch for Chayanne to be more open with his feelings. These are just starts, certainly, but it means that Phil is open to adapting and helping both of his kids in any way they need. He just has to figure out what they need.

And let me be clear: I'm not disregarding the flaws in q!Phil's parenting. They exist, and Chayanne really needs to have an open discussion about how his emotional needs haven't quite been met as of recent, and Phil needs to be more open to have emotional discussions with Chayanne, even if to them, that's like pulling teeth. There's changes and improvements that need to be made. However, in talking about the negatives, it just seems like people think that's all there is. No, these flaws in Phil's parenting doesn't make him a bad parent. Because there are plenty of positives, plenty of decent growth here. There's love and respect and everything in this family. q!Phil is genuinely doing his best in a very difficult scenario: living on an island that is set on killing the eggs, and being a parent of two while basically being a single parent all while struggling with your own traumas. that's going to come with obstacles, it's inevitable, but what's also inevitable is how this family will work through them, and come out of this better than before.

#qsmp #qsmp meta #q!philza #chayanne #tallulah #missy rambles #long post #sorry it's so long by god some things i was seeing made me so sad bc the initial discussions were so open-minded yet critical yet receptive #then it devolved into “he's neglectful and a bad dad” like ??? damn we were doing so well

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taffycandyqt · 20 days

Note

hey so how do you think the tmnt 2003 boys would deal with having helped (more like mother hen) their s/o back to good health and s/o is just super cuddly and loving after. “Well I’ve got to thank you some way for looking after me”. “I’m not making it a habit of getting hurt, but I liked the attention”. “Normally I’d just deal with this stuff on my own” <-explanation why they enjoyed the smothering from their favourite mutant turtle?

You always give some great writing prompts my friend. 👌👌👌

Love Bug

Masterlist

Request Rules

Your boyfriend helps you out when your sick. No one's ever done that for you before, so safe to say your feeling extra cuddly when your all better.

2003 turtles (separately) x reader

Warnings: none

Fluff, angst?

Established relationship

Leo:

It was flu season and well, you had an incredibly weak immune system.

If felt like your brain was stuffed with cotton balls and you couldn't breath through your nose.

Breathing through your throat hurt but it was the only way to get your oxygen.

And that's just the tip of the iceberg.

Safe to say you haven't stopped by the lair in a while and contacting the guys was the least of your worries.

Leo was getting worried so he decided to stop by your place and was terrified to see you so sick and BY YOURSELF.

WHO LEAVES A SICK PERSON ALONE???

Nononononono.

You'll try and tell him your fine and that you can take care of it but he's attitude is basically "no shut up."

He will get you all your meals, refill your water as many times he needs to, gets you all your medicine, and anything else you might need.

If there is something he can do, he will.

And well... You felt spoiled.

It would be a lie to say you didn't enjoy it.

This was the first time someone had ever made such a fuss about you.

And it continued until you were all better.

"Hey Leo, can I come in?" You ask outside his bedroom.

This is the first time you'd stopped by the lair since you'd gotten over your sickness.

"Of course," he answered.

As you entered you saw him reading over some Japanese scrolls on his desk. You walked towards him and looked over his shoulder to get a better view.

"There Master Splinters," he told you, "He says it's important to know the events of the past in order to learn from them."

He continued to tell you about what he was reading and why he thought it was important but you couldn't hear him. You wished you could have listened better but the burning sensation tingling just below your skin was too distracting.

He had been with you all day everyday during your sickness and now that you were better, you really missed him. You wanted to kiss his face and wrap his arms around you. You watched the way his lips moved as he spoke to you and the way his face lit up while talking. As you sat there watching him a warm glow bloomed between you both. A soft comfortable atmosphere full of love.

As he was talking you reached out and wrapped him in a hug, unable to keep to yourself any longer.

"Y/n? Are you alright?" You weren't normally super touchy, so this was new for him.

"Yeah. Keep talking."

He eyed you curiously but then picked up where he had left off. This time though he wrapped his arm around you and leaned back on his other. You nuzzled further into the crook of his neck before pecking the bottom of his gaw. This time his pause was quite abrupt.

"Are you sure you're alright? You aren't acting like yourself," he questioned.

"I'm better than ever Leo. I just feel like cuddling my boyfriend," you looked up at him, "Is that so wrong?"

Leo flushed but then smiled softly at you.

"Not at all."

Raph:

When you called Raph and said you wouldn't be stopping by for a while, naturally, he was curious as to why.

He was also curious why your voice was so raspy and why you were coughing.

When you told him you were sick, all three of those questions were answered and he was on his way to you before you even hung up.

He showed up at your place like 🧍let me in.

Safe to say you were very confused by his sudden appearance.

You let him in and he took out a can of soup from a plastic bag he was holding and then handed the bag over to you.

He would detail everything it contained before telling you to get some rest while he made you something to eat.

After he left your room you kinda just stood there staring at the door he had disappeared through.

The bag had different kinds of medicine for specific symptoms, a couple movies, some non sugary snacks, and a rice bag you could heat up or through in the freezer for later.

He was a surprisingly comforting presence to have around when sick.

And he stuck with you throughout the whole thing.

Safe to say that after the whole thing you felt like showing him some lovin'

Raph had come to check in on you as early as possible, as per the routine for the past couple of days. He would show up in the dark hours of the morning, stay till midnight when you were fast asleep, leave, repeat. This way when you were awake he was always there.

Today though, you were already awake. Granted you were still in bed, in your pjs. It was clear you haven't left your bed. But you were sitting on your bed, wide awake, reading a book.

"Good morning," you greeted him, setting your book down to look at him.

"How long have you been up? Shouldn't you be asleep to help you get better," he posed the question as more of a statement.

"I'm already better," you smiled at him.

"Really now?" He walked over to you with a playful smile on his face.

He knew you were being silly, which is why he has a hard time believing you were actually better. He leaned down a little and placed a hand on your forehead. You weren't particularly warm. He grabbed the thermometer from off your nightstand.

"Really Raph?" You teased.

"Really," he teased back.

He set it in your mouth and waited a couple of seconds until it beeped. When it did he pulled it out and read a normal and completely healthy temperature. He set it down and looked back at you.

"you breathing okay? No stuffed nose or sore throat?"

"Nope!"

"Your not sore anywhere?"

"Not even a little bit!"

Raph stood quiet for a bit. He cycled between looking at you, touching your head, and checking the thermometer a couple of time.

"Are you sure?"

If you didn't know any better he almost seemed a bit disappointed. Unbeknownst to you, he actually enjoyed the time he took to take care of you. You decided to try something. You scooted over on your bed and opened the covers a little bit for him.

"Come on," you softly while patting the space next to you.

His eyes widened not expecting the offer, but took it quickly. You leaned into him resting your head on his collar bone.

"I- what?" He choked out.

"I am feeling a little tired though. Rest with me?"

Okay, so maybe you didn't want this to end just yet either. No one has ever devoted so much time and energy to you before and you just wanted to soak up as much of his presence as you could. Raph didn't say anything in response. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled the blanket higher on the both of you.

Donny:

You weren't feeling to hot.

Or, scratch that, you felt waaaay to hot.

And not in the good way.

You decided some time in bed would be a good idea so you called Don to tell him you wouldn't be coming round for a while.

Today was supposed to be a date too but oh well😔

When he learned that you were sick he gathered everything he could find to help and made us way over to you.

I'm talking immune boosting tea, liquid IV, vitamin D chewables, vitamin water with antioxidants, ect.

Bro wants you to get better so fast.

Just take it, don't be like, 'no it's okay, you don't have to do that it's not that bad!'

Cuz then he will want to cook for you.

And I'm not joking when I say that is it canon that this man CANNOT COOK.

Please don't let him near your kitchen, just take the vitamins.

After you take everything he brought and settled in for a nap he'll kinda just stand there awkwardly.

Like, he want to help more but he's already done everything he could think of.

Unless you invite him to cuddle or something he's just gonna hang around your room until you wake up.

He didn't leave you side the entire time you were sick, and well, it touched you.

After you got better, you felt it was only fair that you returned the favor.

"Hey Don?"

"Yes hon?"

"You at a good stopping place?"

"Huh? Uh... Yeah... juuuuu-" he made a few short adjustments to the contraption infront of him, "-uuuuuust there! What do you need?"

He turned to you with a smile on his face.

"You're not feeling sick again are you?"

"What? Oh, no no. I'm feeling great!" Standing up straight to showcase your good health.

"That's good then," he guided you to the couch in the train car and sat you down, "what can I do for you then?"

"Actually can you sit next to me for a second?" You asked.

"Oh sure," he took a seat next to you on the couch.

You really missed his company after you got better. You especially missed his cuddles. He was always there, consistently and constantly. It made you feel so loved and appreciated, but now that he's not around all the time, you've been feeling a bit lonely. You were a little embarrassed to ask him to cuddle though, so you really weren't sure what to do. Because of this, you sat there nervously fidgeting trying to figure out exactly what you were going to say.

Donnie noticed your discomfort and put a hand on your shoulder to try and ground you from your thoughts. What he didn't expect was this to prompt a sudden and tight hug from you immediately after.

"Is everything alright?" He was a little worried now.

"Yes I just want a hug," you squeaked.

"Oh," he chuckled, "alright."

He embraced you and pulled you closer. He smiled to himself about how cute you were.

Mikey:

Oh precious boy has attachment issues.

You tell him you can't come by cuz your sick, bro is packing an overnight pack and everything.

Dude will literally camp out at your place until your better.

He doesn't really know much about taking care of someone when there sick and he didn't really think about it.

But when you ask him for something he'll get it. When you go to do something he'll do it.

Legit just wants you to spend time getting better and that's it.

Be prepared for lots of movie nights.

Dude loves horror so if you don't you better tell him.

Honestly horror isn't even that bad with him though cuz he is talking the whole time.

Watching any movie with Mikey is honestly the best.

He says the most out of pocket stuff and his reactions are so over the top, it's usually more entertaining than the movie itself.

When you do get better and start coming by the lair again you can't shake the feeling of wanting to be near him.

One thing about your relationship with Mikey is that physical touch was a big love language. That and quality time. When you were sick Mikey slept over every night and it was great. Now that you were better you both agreed he should probably move back in at the lair.

You were kicking yourself for that now. Everytime you've visited the lair after you just wanted some alone time with Mikey but his family is always doing something and when they weren't he'd be to dense to pick up on your hints. Gosh he's such a an idiot sometimes. Unfortunately you love idiots so these are the cards you delt yourself.

Then an idea hit you. If you can't get some time when you go to him, why not get him to come to you! So you called Mikey about maybe having a movie night at your place that night. Unsurprisingly he said yes, quite enthusiastically.

With the plan set in place you cleaned up your room a bit making sure to throw away any loose trash and vacuum. Was your room a mess when he slept over? Yes. But, for one, you were sick and two, Mikey was staying over. He wasn't exactly the picture of cleanly habits. Realistically you knew he wouldn't care whether it was messy or not but you wanted to relax with him. You couldn't relax in a messy room. After you were finished it was only a matter of time before Mikey swung by.

"Guess whoo!!" Mikey sung from your open window.

"Hmmmmm. A particularly intelligible pigeon?" You answered not turning around from your closet.

You had been looking for your extra blankets for you both to use while you snuggled.

"Hahaha," he answered sarcastically stepping into your room, "Now the real question is what do we wanna watch? I got Slasher and Friday the Thirteenth and Chuckie OR we could do a trilogy!"

When you turned around you noticed he had brought his entire case of movies with him even though he was only gonna be there for the night.

"Let's stick with a single, stand alone movie yeah?" You told him sweetly as you lazily adjusted the blankets on your bed.

"WHAT! You only want to watch ONE movie!?"

"Mikey, we'll only have time for one movie!" you laughed.

"You said movie night!" He told you clearly distressed.

"You normally only watch ONE movie at a movie night!" You informed him, unable to quell your chortling.

"WHA- BUT-" He looked at his box of movies.

How was he only supposed to pick one!? Once you were able to calm down you saw him looking over his movie crate concerned.

"Mikey, just one nice tonight doesn't mean no more movies ever. We can watch one tonight and another a different night. We could even have a marathon at some point."

"You promise?"

"I promise," you grinned at him.

And with that Mikey grabbed a movie and started it up. He had gotten comfortable on the bed before you could even get on. When you did join him he nudged a big bad of potato chips your way, you both would be sharing. As the movie continued you slowly moved closer to him until you were practically on top of him. By the end of it you weren't even facing the movie, opting to nuzzle into his chest.

Mikey if course didn't notice, too invested in the film in front of him. When the movie ended however he noticed he was unable to move how he wanted. Only then realizing that you were completely cuddled into him. He flushed and stuttered, oh how he wishes he knew when this happened. He wasn't sure if you were awake or not though until you told him to put in another movie.

"I-I-I thought you said only one?" His voice wiggly.

"I think we can break that rule once in a while."

With that Mikey popped in another movie, this time one that wasn't particularly his favorite. This way he could focus on returning your affections.

71 notes · View notes

unreliablesnake · 7 months

Text

Lover (John MacTavish x reader)

Summary: After everything that happened, Ghost tries to help you through the worst of it, and you can’t help but remember what things used to be like before.

Warnings: mw3 spoilers, afab!reader

Johnny was sitting on the middle of the bed cross-legged, watching as you packed your clothes from the suitcase into the closet where he made you as much room as he could. You knew he didn’t have as many clothes as you did, but it still seemed to be a little too much space. “But seriously, where are your clothes?” you asked him after you hung up a white dress.

“I have like three pairs of jeans, one pair of shorts, a few tees and shirts, one suit, and maybe one or two formal jackets. My gym clothes are usually the duffel bag. I don’t need that much stuff,” he replied with a shrug.

Laughing, you nodded and continued to empty the suitcase. It was strange that now you were about to call Johnny’s apartment your home, and not just his place as you had done since you two started dating. Moving in was a big step, but it was one that was due to happen after all the happy memories you collected along the way.

He was the one who had brought it up when neither of you could sleep on a mission. “Maybe you shouldn’t go home the next time you come over. You should stay for good,” he said casually, as if it wasn’t a big deal.

But when you looked over at him, you saw that confident smile he usually had on his face when you knew he would win something. This time apparently this something was having you bound to him. It felt nice. Good to know he wanted more from this relationship than just having fun every so often. You said yes almost immediately, and the way he kissed you instantly became a new core memory for you.

“I’ll make something for dinner while you pack out. Any wishes? I can make excellent frozen pizza. I’m the master of tossing it into the oven,” he said with a laugh as he climbed off the bed and walked over to you. “No, but seriously, I’m a great cook. What would you like to eat?”

He kissed the tip of your nose, causing you to chuckle a little. “I don’t know. Surprise me.”

With a satisfied hum, he bowed theatrically and left the bedroom. You couldn’t help but laugh silently, a stupidly wide smile creeping on your face. This man would be your downfall one day. This loyal, loving, caring, and brave guy was everything you could ask for. None of your previous boyfriends had been this good to you, and you highly doubted there would be anyone else after him.

He would be the last love of your life, even if it didn’t work out. If it came down to this by some unfortunate event, you would move into the woods in the middle of nowhere and spend the rest of your life alone. But it would work, you had this gut feeling that told you things would be alright.

Gaz offered to stay with you for a few days, but you said no. You knew he meant well, but you just knew he didn't fully understand how you felt at the moment. Ghost knew; he knew perfectly well how badly losing him affected you, but he was battling his own grief. Price had a lot of paperwork to do, but he told you to call him if you ever needed someone to talk to, no matter how late it was.

Before you left the base, Ghost pulled you aside to have a chat with you away from the others. His amber eyes were glossy from the tears he tried to fight back, and the sight broke your heart. “He was the one who rented the apartment you live in from that grumpy guy, right?” You nodded, already having your idea where he was going with it. “Want me to talk to the landlord about you staying there?”

“No, I already called him, it's okay. We'll sign a new contract. But thank you,” you said before you wrapped your arms around his giant frame and buried your face into his chest. “You know you can call or visit whenever you need it, right?”

Ghost hugged you back with a sigh, resting his chin on top of your head. “Yeah, I know. Same goes to you.”

“If you want to stick around after the funeral, the couch is available,” you told him.

“Careful, I might take that offer.”

“We could talk over a drink. Just remembering him might help with the grieving process.”

“Maybe,” Ghost said with a sigh. “I’ll give you a call.”

“Okay. Take care, Simon,” you whispered to him after a gulp.

You wanted to cry, you wanted to let your emotions out, but this wasn't the time and place for that. You could tell the lieutenant was battling his feelings the same way you were, but he didn't let himself lose his composure either. Knowing he would give you a visit sent a wave of relief through your body, because the idea of having someone like him around sounded nice. You could certainly use his company after the funeral.

Going home was hell. The whole place was full of his things, constant reminders of what you had lost–the love of your life. Because you could tell he was the one after three years together, and despite all his faults, you simply couldn't not love him. This man had been blessed with a heart of gold, a great sense of humor, and the kind of loyalty to you and his friends that you couldn't find in everyone.

His parents didn't call, but you couldn't blame them. Price was the one to break the news to them, knowing you weren't ready to do it yourself. They were devastated, even sadder that despite them embracing you as part of the family, you weren't there with the captain. His sister was the only one who called you every now and then.

“What will you do with his things?” she asked the day before the official funeral as she sat on the couch with a mug of tea in her hand.

“I don't know. I'll see what your parents want,” you replied with a sigh. “Can you ask them?”

She nodded. She thought her parents being a little mad at you was stupid and pointless in this situation, but she knew losing Johnny was too much for them to handle. The two of you chatted a little more, she then asked if she could take one of his precious vinyl albums with her, hoping she could have something that reminded her of her late brother.

After she left, the apartment became too quiet again. Ghost was expected to arrive a few hours later, so until then you lay down on your bed and went through some old photos of you and Johnny. The tears began to fall again, you didn't even keep track of how many times you'd cried that day alone. And when you looked over at the wall and saw the colorful lights that you had hung up the year before, a sad smile crept on your lips.

“Don't listen to her, we can have the decorations up as long as you want,” Johnny said before he pulled you against his chest and kissed your forehead. “I like the lights, they can stay up the whole year,” he added with a smile while he took your hand and twirled you around.

You laughed when he theatrically bowed with a wide grin on his face, a movement he often did to make you laugh. Your parents had jumped in earlier that day, and your mother made a few comments about the Christmas decorations still being on the walls three days after the holidays. It made you wonder if you were childish for being so happy to have them around the apartment, but Johnny was there to comfort you and tell you it was okay.

Every day he proved to you it was a good idea to agree to move in with him. He made you feel safe, and loved, and generally happier than you had ever been. You flashed a smile at him before leaning in to give him a soft kiss on the lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too, bonnie,” he replied before raising your hand to place a soft kiss on it.

Ghost gave you a bear hug the moment he dropped his duffel bag on the floor and you closed the door after him. It only took two seconds for you to start crying, your tears leaving wet spots on his black sweatshirt. He rubbed circles into your back to soothe you, telling you that it was okay, that he was there and you didn’t have to handle it alone.

“I’m sorry, I haven’t figured out how to not cry from everything,” you apologized as you went to the living room and you wiped the tears away with the sleeve of your sweater.

“It’s okay,” he repeated himself. “Thanks again for inviting me to the official funeral.”

He sat down on the couch and patted the empty side. You took a seat and pulled up your leg to turn towards him. “You were his friend, of course I invited you. Luckily his sister helped me by convincing her parents to let you come.”

“Why didn’t you ask them yourself?”

“I think they’re blaming me partially. You know, because we worked together. And they might be pissed that I wasn’t there with Price when he told them what happened.”

With a sigh, Simon reached out to squeeze your hand supportively. The two of them had been close, and you weren’t sure Johnny hadn’t asked him to look out for you if anything happened to him. But you were grateful that he was here, at least you could support each other.

Because this massive guy needed support too. You wouldn’t be surprised if he told you Johnny had been his best friend, so he was probably just as devastated as you were. “He wanted to invite you to celebrate the New Year with us, you know,” you told him quietly, earning a grunt in response. “Just the three of us. Well, four, because he wanted to invite a mutual friend of ours. Cute girl. Clever. You would probably like her. She’s gonna attend the funeral.”

“I’m not in the mood for that at a fucking funeral,” he replied, but upon seeing the look on your face, he let out a sigh. “Well, if this didn’t happen, if we didn’t lose Johnny, then… probably I would have given her a chance,” he admitted.

You flashed a smile at Ghost. “I know you wouldn’t pick up women at funerals,” you said casually. “But it would have been nice to celebrate together. Johnny was really looking forward to it. But that’s not gonna happen.”

Ghost took a deep breath. “If you ever feel lonely, you can always call me. I’ll come over and keep you company. Even if it happens to be on New Year’s Eve.

You stood up and went to the kitchen to make some tea, all while thinking about the last New Year’s Eve you spent with Johnny. A sad smile crept on your lips at the thought of your friends coming over for a few hours to celebrate. They left shortly after midnight, but your boyfriend didn’t feel like switching from the warm apartment to the cold streets, so you ended up staying behind.

You waved your hand after Johnny put the two bottles of wine in front of your friends then pointed at the empty chair next to you. He came over to where you were sitting, and occupied the chair with a big grin on his face. He motioned you to lean closer, and when your faces were mere inches apart, he started talking instead of kissing you.

“What’s the difference between kinky and perverted?” he asked, but didn’t wait for you to answer. “Kinky is when you tickle your girlfriend with a feather, perverted is when you use the whole bird.”

You couldn’t hold back the laugh that wanted to erupt upon hearing one of his stupid dirty jokes. It was a new one, he probably just heard it from someone, and you knew how excited he got every time he could tell you a joke like this. This was his way of entertaining you; telling jokes, especially these ones.

“There’s another one. If you were born in September, it’s pretty safe to assume that your parents started their new year with a bang.” This time your only response was a roll of your eyes. “Hey, we’re gonna start our new year with a bang too, right?” he asked quietly with a smile, his blue eyes shining brightly with hope.

“And the next thing we know, we’re the parents from your little joke,” you pointed out playfully with a laugh.

Johnny put his hands on your cheeks and leaned closer to give you a soft kiss. “I wouldn’t mind having a mini me running around. Or a mini you. I’m not picky.” You tilted your head to the side, surprised to hear him talk about having a child of your own. “What? Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about this.”

With a smile, you pressed your nose to his. “I didn’t think you were ready for one.”

“Or two,” he corrected you with a grin. “Maybe three. But I don’t wanna push my luck, so I’ll settle with two for now.

After the funeral, you and Ghost were standing in front of Johnny’s parents, ready to take his ashes so you could say goodbye the way he wanted. They were skeptical, not really feeling like letting go of their son’s remains, and you honestly couldn’t blame them. But Johnny’s sister convinced them to at least talk to you about it.

“How would you know what he wanted?” his father asked you.

“In our line of work dying is in the cards for us. I once told him what I want in case I end up being kept alive by machines, or what I want to happen to my remains. I even wrote it in my will,” you explained calmly. “He told me too, and I know he went into details in his will. If he died when he wasn’t on deployment, he would have wanted you to do this. But if he died on the field, he would want us to go there.”

His mother wiped away the tears that returned, and nodded to your surprise. “I talked to his lawyer, I know that’s what he wanted,” she said, even surprising her husband.

“When did you do that? And why didn’t you tell me?”

You glanced over at Ghost who was watching the couple with an impatient look in his eyes. You could tell he didn’t feel like being here, that he hated the goddamn cemetery as much as you did. It was Johnny’s sister who broke the moderate fight between her parents.

“Mom, Dad, if that’s what he wanted, we should respect his decision. Let them take the ashes,” she said.

In the end they agreed, and you and Ghost returned to your place where you started a conference call with Price and Gaz. You talked about when and where to meet the next day, you even told them about how the funeral went.

Ghost ordered something for dinner, not really feeling like going out after that day, while you ordered something entirely different. When your package arrived sooner, Ghost gave you an equally questioning and disappointed look.

“Where’s the food?” You shrugged. “All right, what do you have there?” he asked, pointing at the smaller paper bag in your hand.

“Pregnancy tests,” you replied bluntly.

“Why?”

“What do you think?” Ghost massaged the bridge of his nose upon hearing your reply. “It’s a week late. Probably the stress caused by Makarov and Johnny’s death, but I want to be sure. We’ve been working on the baby project for about a year now, but we had no luck. Okay, we stopped trying hard around July, hoping I can get pregnant if we don’t pressure ourselves. Maybe now… I don’t know.”

To your surprise, Ghost pulled you into a hug and kissed the top of your head. “Want me to help?”

“With peeing on these things? I think I can manage on my own,” you told him with a roll of your eyes as you stepped back.

“Okay, smartass. I was talking about providing emotional support.”

With a smile, you went into the bathroom and used all five tests, then put them in a line by the sink. Just a few minutes and you would find out if you had succeeded before your time together ran out.

You knew that Johnny sometimes wondered if he was the problem. But he probably knew that you felt the same way every so often. It was a difficult conversation to have, and despite your relationship being stronger than it had ever been, you never knew how to bring it up. You were afraid he would give up, that he would say it was a stupid idea, but then you always reminded himself that he wasn’t a quitter.

“What’s wrong?” you heard Johnny’s soft voice as he put a hand on your stomach over the blanket.

At first you didn’t know what to say. How do you bring this up? But when you saw the worried look on his face, you couldn’t hold back anymore. “I’m just wondering if we’ll ever have a child. At this rate–”

“Hey,” he interrupted you, moving a little closer to you in bed. “We’ll have a child, it just might take a little more time than expected. Also… I have an appointment to see if I’m the reason why you’re not pregnant yet.”

Letting out a long sigh, you wrapped an arm around his body and rested your head on his arm that was stretched across the pillows. “I should do the same. We should get to the bottom of this,” you told him.

Johnny gave you a kiss. “You’re right. But… I don’t know, maybe we should just slow down and not try this hard. Let’s just put this baby project aside for a few months,” he suggested kindly.

“You think that could help?”

“Mm-hm. I did some research and found a lot of stories where they had a child when they weren’t actively trying. Even doctors say stress might make it hard to conceive, and we are clearly stressed about it.”

He kissed you again, this time having no intention to keep up the conversation. Instead he became laser-focused on you, on pinning your body under his in an attempt to devour you like a delicious meal. You giggled quietly between his sloppy kisses, eventually apologizing for not being serious enough.

“So much for putting the baby project aside,” you told him while you placed kisses along his jawline.

Johnny’s blue eyes watched you curiously, as if what you just said was the stupidest thing he had ever heard. “I’m doing this for fun, doll,” he informed you with a mischievous smile.

You put your hand on his cheek before raising your head to give him a quick kiss. “Let’s leave the military. Or at least the field. Let’s live a normal life,” you told him, having absolutely no idea where this thought was coming from.

“Way to ruin the mood,” he noted sourly. “I don’t wanna do that. I love you more than anything, but you can’t ask me that. Yes, it’s dangerous, yes, I know our work schedule is hectic, but that’s the only thing I know. I’ve been working my ass off to be where I am,” he explained as he lied next to you.

Shaking your head, you reached for his hand. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that,” you apologized.

“I think I do. It would be less stressful to know people aren’t actively trying to kill us all the time, and maybe this way we could finally have the family we’ve been dreaming of.”

“Let’s forget I ever suggested it, okay?” When he gave you a surprised look, you flashed a small smile at him then turned on your side to look him in the eye. “If we finally end up expecting a baby, what would you prefer them to be? A boy or a girl?”

“I don’t care as long as they’re ours,” he replied before reaching out to take your hand. “Name ideas?” You shook your head, but before you could say anything, he went on. “Allison would be a good one for a girl.”

You thought about it for a moment, getting familiar with the sound of Allison MacTavish in your mind. It didn’t sound bad at all. “And for a boy?”

A smirk appeared on his lips, one that you usually saw if he did something you wouldn’t necessarily agree with. “Simon. I know it probably sounds stupid, but the Lt. might be my best friend. And he saved my life before, he’s a good man in general, and I just feel like it would be a great way to show my respect for him,” he explained.

“If you say he’s also gonna be asked to be the godfather–”

“Of course I will ask him,” he interrupts you immediately, giving you a why-are-you-even-asking look. “But if you have someone better in mind, I’m listening.”

You shook your head and gave him a soft kiss. “I love that you have already thought these things through. Very sexy of you, just saying,” you told him as you climbed on top of him, continuing what you had begun before your stupid comment.

Following the private little funeral, the team decided to have a drink on the way home. Ghost remained by your side like a guard dog, even in the bar taking the seat next to you without a question. He was staring, which became quite annoying after a while.

“What?” you asked him after you’ve had enough.

Ghost took a deep breath that he exhaled slowly. “I’m just not sure I want to leave you alone after what happened yesterday. You’re sure you’re gonna be okay?” he asked you as he toyed with his drink.

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m gonna be fine, don’t worry.”

“Guys, a toast?” Price asked when he showed up behind the two of you with Gaz. You both nodded, and watched as the other two raised their glasses before you did the same. “To Soap. He will be truly missed by all of us,” he said.

You couldn’t help it, you started crying again, and this time it was Gaz who pulled you into a hug. He rubbed your back to calm you, but this wasn’t enough. You lost Johnny, and there was nothing that could bring him back. You were alone, and right now you couldn’t even imagine how you could ever find joy in your life again. Not without him.

“What will I do without him?” you mumbled against the sergeant’s shoulder.

“You’ll learn to live without him eventually, believe me. It’s gonna be hell, but we’re here for you, okay?” he asked with a weak smile.

Price put a hand on your shoulder after Gaz let you go. “He’s right. We’re like a family, we stick together, no matter what. You’re not alone in this, all right? We’re here when you need us.”

Nodding, you gulped loudly and thought about what to say. But there was nothing, your mind was blank, and instead you just took a sip of your drink after you sat back on your chair. The others took their seats again, and Ghost turned to you with a worried look in his eyes. You knew what he wanted to say, but you weren’t in the mood to have the same conversations again and again.

“I know,” was all you said, these two words serving as a mixture of I know you’re gonna be there for me, thank you, and you can count on me too.

#john mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #soap #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #call of duty #modern warfare #mw2 #mw3 #mw3 spoilers #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost #Spotify #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #captain john price #john price

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hesbuckcompton-baby · 3 months

Text

I'm Your Man - Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal x OFC - Chapter 8

AO3

Summary: After an encounter at Coombe House leaves Frankie and Rosie's relationship fragile, they seek to repair it when she is given leave for Christmas

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 6.5k (BUCKLE UP FOLKS)

Tags: @mads-weasley @xxluckystrike @curaheehee @footprintsinthesxnd @dcyllom @storysimp @latibvles @love-studying58

The sun disappeared as soon as it had come, and as the weeks rolled steadily into December the men at Thorpe Abbotts learned the truth of the great English winter. At sunrise, the grass lay encrusted with frost, but by midday the ice was washed away by downpours, leaving the fields a muddy marshland. Every day was dreary, cold, and damp, and Rosie was beginning to feel mocked by it, the outside world mirroring the misery he felt within.

Frankie was avoiding him. She wouldn't admit to it, but she hadn't spoken to him alone in weeks. Sure, she would sit with the Riveters in the pub or come to see them before a mission, but since their trip to Coombe House, he couldn't get her alone. Whenever he thought the chance had arisen, some pressing matter would suddenly arise that she had to attend to, and she was gone as soon as she'd arrived.

He missed her. He missed her so badly that it hurt - he missed her face being the first he saw after every mission, missed being able to tell her everything, missed making her laugh. Rosie didn't care that she hadn't kissed him anymore. He just wanted her back.

"Tell me what happened again," George demanded, perched on the edge of her bed, watching Frankie as she brushed the stubborn knots out of her hair.

Frankie sighed. "I have told you a million times already."

"I know. I'm just still trying to fathom how you could be such a fucking idiot!" She cried, grabbing one of her pillows and throwing it across the room, colliding with Frankie with a soft thump.

"Oi!" Frankie exclaimed, lobbing it right back, a shriek escaping George as it smacked her in the face.

"He's so obviously in love with you - has been for months - I just don't get it. Coombe House was the perfect opportunity. Bit of a snog and a shag, yunno."

"Jesus Christ," She muttered, shaking her head. "You're the one who warned me against getting too attached. I'm just... starting to think you were right."

George's smile dropped, and she swore she felt her stomach lurch. "Oh, Frankie, no-"

"What? Am I seriously supposed to just go for it knowing what will happen if he doesn't come back?"

Frankie hadn't uttered a word of this to her, but it was clear it had been plaguing her for some time. "I'm not supposed to be a cautionary tale, I'm supposed to be your friend. Which means I want you to be happy - find it where you can, don't just avoid it because of what happened to me."

Her entire face furrowed with her frown. "I'm just... I'm in too deep already. And I'm scared, George."

"Oh, c'mere," George sighed, rising to stand as she gestured for Frankie to come closer. Enveloping her in an embrace, her nostrils inhaled the always-lingering scent of engine oil. "I don't regret Curt. I miss him like hell and sometimes it feels really really shit. But I wouldn't trade the time I had with him to make it hurt less - if anything it's more special to me now. Don't hold back because you're scared it'll hurt later, because if anything does go wrong you'll regret it more than anything."

Frankie frowned, chin burrowed into the crook of George's neck. "You think so?"

"I know it."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The pub was packed as always, the sea of faces ever-changing with the constant stream of replacements. It didn't matter that it was just as busy as it had always been, the place felt half-empty with so many familiar faces missing. Rosie's Riveters were always guaranteed a table, their reputation as the 100th's finest flyers preceding them - boys would actually give up their chairs when Rosie came in, and he could never dissuade them, no matter how much he cringed at the attention.

Half-empty pint glasses littered the table, conversation and laughter flowing freely among the team, but Rosie couldn't help but let his gaze wander. She was usually here - usually posted at the same spot at the bar with George, hogging the space in front of the beer taps so they could always get the bartender's attention whenever they needed another round. But when he looked up now, their spot was taken by a pair of replacements who scarcely looked old enough to fly.

"Rosie agrees, dontcha?" Bailey's voice came, and it was as if he'd been forcefully dragged back to reality.

"Hm?"

"Brooklyn's better than Queens, ain't it?"

"Oh. Definitely," He nodded, attempting to be as subtle as he could as he continued to scan the room.

Suddenly, the piano in the corner started up, thumping out a raucous tune. He'd only seen it used once or twice the entire time he'd been at Thorpe Abbotts, but the nearing advent of Christmas seemed to be putting the Brits in much higher spirits. A crowd of RAF and WAAF staff had formed around the piano player, drinks in hand as they began to perform a sequence of rowdy old drinking songs, more yelling than they were singing.

The words were foreign to American ears, but the English seemed to know them all by heart, belting out sordid tales of prostitutes and the like in a jolly, musical fashion. The pilots seemed roused by the scene, and Bailey began to clap along to the beat in encouragement, grinning as he watched the crowd. There was a sense of joy in the air, enough even to make Rosie crack a smile, elbow resting on the back of his chair as he listened.

And then he saw her.

Frankie was leant against the lid of the piano, pint in hand, belting out the words with the rest of them, grinning as she sang. She was wearing her proper WAAF uniform, her hair curled tight beneath her chin, lips painted a deep red. He never saw her in dress uniform, and for a moment he was taken aback by how well it suited her. Before Rosie had formed any sort of plan for what he was doing, he had risen to his feet, and was crossing the room towards her, weaving his way through the crowd.

A hand seized his arm. George was certainly strong when she wanted to be, and she wanted to be now, dragging him sideways away from the group, gnawing at her bottom lip, her teeth coming away with lipstick stains.

"It's my fault," She stated firmly, speaking loudly to be heard over the music.

Rosie's brow furrowed in confusion. "George, what're you talking about?"

"It's my fault Frankie won't talk to you - I only just figured it out, I'm sorry."

His shoulders squared, a frown forming. "What do you mean it's your fault, what did you do?"

"I... I told her that I haven't been speaking to the pilots since Curtis Biddick died - you don't know him, but he was... kinda my boyfriend."

"Oh, George, I'm sorry."

"Yeah, it sucks. But I think she took it to heart, and now she's scared to get too close to you in case something happens."

"... She told you that?"

"Not explicitly, but I'm not an idiot. And I know her very well."

Rosie nodded hurriedly as he considered this, passing his weight from one foot to the other as he debated approaching Frankie. Sucking in a deep breath, he nodded determinedly. "George," He held her by the shoulders, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. "Thank you."

"Don't ever do that again."

"I am sorry," He nodded, hands held up in surrender as he backed away, turning on his heel to make a beeline towards Frankie. George watched him go, brow raised at the sudden spring in his step.

"Weird bloke," She muttered.

They were halfway through a frankly awful rendition of Three Jolly Rogues when Frankie heard someone calling her name. Her gaze travelled across the crowd, words trailing off as she noticed Rosie at the edge of the group, unable to penetrate the mass of people as he craned to catch her eye. Eyes widening for a moment, she instantly felt her heart begin to beat faster as she chugged the remainder of her beer, abandoning her empty glass atop the piano as she tried to shove her way through to him.

"Frankie!" "Rosie!"

They spoke simultaneously, words to rambled and quick to make out, especially over the din of the pub. "Let's - let's go outside, yeah?" Frankie called over the music, and he nodded in agreement. His hand on her back came as a reflex, an instinct as they moved towards the door. She didn't step away.

Stepping out into the night air was like running head-first into a wall of ice, the sudden cold almost making Frankie gasp, her breath erupting in a visible cloud in front of her face. The sheer number of bodies inside the pub kept it permanently warm, so much so that it was easy to forget they were in the thick of December. Sucking in a breath, she rubbed at her arms to generate some warmth, her uniform jacket offering little in the way of insulation.

Rosie opened his mouth to speak, but she got there first. "I'm sorry. I've been treating you like shit and you don't deserve it, I was just being a fucking coward and-"

"Hey - no, no, no, you're ok. George told me what was going on and I get it. I get it, ok?"

Her expression was contorted in something like fear. "You do?"

"Of course," A smile flickered across his face. Of course he did. "I have no idea how hard it must be for you to wait for us all to come back, knowing what can happen up there. But... I don't wanna sound selfish Frankie but I can't stand the thought of dying without us being friends. You make coming back worth it and I- ... I miss you."

Frankie was silent for a long moment, and Rosie braced himself for whatever she was going to say.

"Come to my house for Christmas," She said. His mind had been racing trying to predict her response. He had not expected that.

"... What?"

"I got a forty-eight-hour pass for Christmas, I'm going over to my Dad's house. You can't spend it with your family, and we've got plenty of room... Well. You'd probably have to sleep on the floor but-"

She trailed off as she realised he was laughing, her brow furrowing as Rosie chuckled, nodding continuously. "Yeah," He beamed.

"Yeah?" The corner of her lips curled upwards in that wonky smile he so adored.

"Yeah, I'll come," Rosie grinned, taking a step forward and enveloping her in a hug, arms wrapped tight around her shoulders and she instinctively reached around to hug him back, her head resting against his chest.

"That would've been really awkward if you'd said no," Frankie said, her voice muffled against his jacket. Rosie laughed again, and she felt the vibrations through his chest.

"I was never gonna say no."

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They took a train on Christmas Eve, each carriage so packed with servicemen and women on leave and families visiting each other for the holiday that they were forced to stand, shuffling awkwardly out of the way whenever someone had to squeeze past. The pair had nothing to do except for a single pack of cards, although it soon became evident that the lack of space forced them to stand so close that they could always see each other's hand, and every game rapidly became pointless.

"So George isn't coming? Or Ken?" Rosie asked, fiddling with his watch as they plodded steadily onwards through the countryside, plumes of smoke from the coal engine partly obscuring the view of the trees and fields outside.

"George's family lives down in Dover - though you'd never guess it from her accent," Frankie chuckled. "She's got a pass too, so she's gone down this morning. Ken got invited for dinner by the parents of those lads he's always looking after - he'll be over there tomorrow."

He nodded along as she spoke. It had been almost an hour since anyone had tried to shuffle past them, so they'd taken to sitting on the floor, legs outstretched as far as they could go across the dirty old carpet. "Say, how'd you and George meet anyway? I never asked."

"We were both working at RAF Docking from about the middle of '41. There were a lot more WAAF there than at Abbotts, so we didn't bunk together, but we just sort of stuck, I s'pose. She only came here because of me - I got asked to come 'cause of your manpower shortage, but she reapplied so she could come too. Good thing too, I'd have been fucked without her. I think we got a bit co-dependent," She smiled to herself as she spoke, and he couldn't help but mirror it.

There was not a single sign or announcement to indicate where they were on their journey along the way. Frankie had told him it was a part of the government's anti-invasion measures, so that any would-be invaders would be unable to find their way, but really it just made him paranoid that they had missed their stop. Nevertheless, the moment they pulled into their station, she was up on her feet, a sudden air of excitement about her as she scrambled to gather their belongings. Rosie followed her out onto the platform, trying not to cough at the puffs of coal smoke that filled the station.

"Not far now," She assured him, a suitcase full of clothes in one hand, a satchel of presents in the other. It was a surprisingly sunny afternoon, although the biting cold would have suggested otherwise, and he trailed after her as they descended the high street, Rosie's head turning this way and that to take in his unfamiliar surroundings.

Frankie breezed through the place with practised familiarity, letting out a huff as she realised she'd almost lost him to the Shakespeare memorial as they passed. He had become entirely distracted by it, peering closely at the engravings that lined the base of the statue.

"Oi! Don't go all tourist on me, flyboy - I won't be late for dinner," She teased, and Rosie held up his hands in surrender, scurrying to catch up.

He could tell they were close when her shoulders drooped, excitement replaced by a comfortable calm. They reached a row of short, terraced houses, set back slightly from the main road, the thin strip of shared lawn still wet from the morning's blanket of frost. Frankie had begun grinning as she approached the house on the far end of the row, a spring of holly tied to the knocker with a messy knot of string. She shot him a smile, knocking firmly upon the wood, before spying an elderly woman a few doors down, struggling under the weight of her shopping bags as she fumbled with her door keys.

"Let me help with that, Mrs Higgins!" Frankie called, leaving Rosie alone on the doorstep as she hurried to help the old woman, gently prying the bags from her grip.

"My, Frances, haven't you grown!" Mrs Higgins declared, beaming up at her, made tiny by her stooped shoulders.

"Not since I was twelve, dear," She assured her, helping her in through the door as she carried the shopping behind her. Rosie smiled, watching on with his hands in his pockets, and he wondered how he could feel nostalgic in a place he'd never seen before.

Suddenly the door to Frankie's house swung open, and he found himself faced with a red-faced man, peering down at him with a frown. "Can I help you?"

"Dad, that's just Rosie! Let 'im in!" Frankie cried from down the street, hurriedly exiting Mrs Higgins' house as she scurried to catch up.

Mr Bevan was a huge man in every sense of the word - so tall and wide that he practically filled the entire doorway, and it almost seemed a miracle that he and his daughter were even related. But the moment he heard Frankie's voice, his face lit up with such love Rosie wasn't sure he'd ever seen anything like it, unleashing a hearty, belly laugh as she ran into his arms, practically throwing herself at the man.

"Rosie? Who's Rosie?" Another voice rang from inside - a girl's voice, high-pitched and certainly familiar. "I thought you were bringing the pilot!"

"Rosie is the pilot!" Frankie called down the hall, chuckling as she broke free of her father's embrace. She ushered Rosie inside, piling her bags at the bottom of the narrow staircase. As he entered, a girl was peering suspiciously at him from the kitchen doorway. She couldn't have been older than thirteen, a crop of golden hair flowing from her scalp, and at her hip cowered another child, a little girl of about three of four, hair so blonde it was almost white.

"But Rosie's a girl's name!" The older girl protested.

He chuckled. "Well, in fairness, my real name's Robert."

"Alice, be nice," Frankie scolded gently, lifting up the smaller child with one arm as Alice's cheeks bloomed a bright red. He realised she must have been Jill, recalling her name from the phone call all those weeks ago at Coombe House.

The Bevans' house was inescapably narrow, the five of them struggling to pass each other as bags were brought in and Frankie's father bustled through to the kitchen to put the kettle on. But as she sidled into the living room, she let out a gasp, a grin creasing her cheeks.

It was a sparsely furnished place, but in all honesty there probably wasn't room for anything else. A thin pine tree was propped up in the corner, strings of tinsel and chipped old baubles hanging from its branches, and newspaper chains hung from the curtain rails.

"Oh, isn't this just wonderful," Frankie remarked as Jill wrapped her chubby arms around her neck in a sideways hug. She turned her head, nodding at Rosie, prompting him to say something.

"Oh! Yeah. Very nice, it's just like back home," He nodded in agreement, slightly tense under the eyes of strangers, even if they were both little girls.

"Rosie, d'you want a cuppa?" Mr Bevan's voice boomed from the next room. For a moment he panicked, staring at Frankie with wide eyes like a deer caught in headlights.

"Tea. Do you want tea?" She whispered, putting Jill down on the sofa.

"Oh, uh - Yes! Thank you, Mr Bevan!"

"Oh, bloody hell, it's Allen, son," He shook his head, carrying in a teapot on a tray to place on the small table in the middle of the room.

"Even the boys at the garage call you Allen, eh Dad?" Frankie pointed out, pouring a cup of tea and straining the leaves before passing it to Rosie.

"Reason I hired 'em," He agreed, lowering himself into one of the armchairs with a heavy grunt. Rosie accepted the tea with a smile, and had just brought the cup to his lips when Allen leant down and unstrapped his foot, pulling it off and propping it against the wall. He almost choked. Alice let out a snort that sounded remarkably like Frankie's.

"Christ, sorry lad," He laughed, red face turning even redder. "Probably should've warned you about that."

Rosie forced out an awkward chuckle, nodding along. Jill was sat beside him on the sofa, staring up at him with wide eyes, mouth hanging slightly agape. He smiled down at her, noticing Frankie as she smirked at the whole scene.

Their dinner was a meagre feast of beans on toast, and Rosie suspected they were saving everything else for Christmas Day, saving it up to put on a true banquet. He and Frankie had been relegated to the living room to sleep, and she took the sofa whilst he lay on a pile of cushions and blankets on the floor. It wasn't a house built to serve any more than three - after all, it had only ever intended to house Frankie and her parents.

He was staring up at the picture frames that lined the wall as she came in - messy childhood drawings on aged paper, a laboured scrawl captioning each one with things like 'Me and Daddy' and 'My House'. Frankie had been putting the girls to bed, and padded across the carpet with a sigh, the sofa springs creaking as she collapsed backwards onto them.

"Did you draw those?" He asked, pointing up at the wall.

She groaned, covering her face with her hands. "God, they're so awful, I keep telling him to take them down."

"No! They're great! I think it's really nice."

Frankie stared down at him for a moment. He'd changed into his pyjamas already, lying straight across the living room floor, blanket tucked under his arms. She began to giggle, cheeks flushed from the cool draft that filled the room.

"What?" He asked.

"It's only nine. You look like you've had mummy come and tuck you in for bed," She teased, unable to look at him without collapsing into giggles again.

"I'm tired!" He protested, throwing his hands up in the air.

"Yeah, yeah. So am I, to be fair. And - fair warning - Jill will be in here at five in the morning tomorrow to open her presents. She's so excited, I don't think she'll sleep a wink."

Frankie lay back along the sofa, feet propped up against the armrest as she draped a blanket over herself before reaching out to turn off the lamp. "They're sweet kids," Rosie spoke into the darkness.

"Alice is cagey around new people - just tell her a good flying story tomorrow and she'll love you. I think Jill loves you already. She doesn't talk much, but she'll want you to play with her toys, so you'd better do it," She instructed him, and he let out a chuckle.

"Alright. I promise."

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Rosie was awoken by the thunderous sound of little footsteps barrelling down the stairs, a shriek escaping Jill as she streaked into the room, making a beeline for the sofa as she hurled herself on top of Frankie. She let out an agonised groan at the sudden weight, retaliating as she tickled under Jill's arms, eliciting a series of squeals from the girl.

He groaned, grabbing one of the cushions and pressing it tight over his head to dull the sudden noise. He heard Frankie laugh, and felt her warm breath against his ear as she bent down to whisper "Told you so."

It was a half hour before the rest of the family made an appearance, time which Frankie spent desperately trying to prevent Jill from tearing open her presents, insisting she had to wait for her sister.

"Just one? Please? Please!" She whined, feet dangling off the edge of one of the kitchen chairs. Rosie wandered in and the girl went suddenly quiet, nervously pursing her lips.

"Hey Jill, why don't you show Rosie your cars, yeah?" Frankie said, pausing mid-sentence to let out a yawn as she put the kettle on the boil. The child's brow furrowed, considering this, and when she looked up at him she spoke with the seriousness of a businessman conducting an important negotiation.

"Rosie, will you play cars with me?"

"Absolutely I will," He nodded, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. Jill grinned, pushing herself down from the chair as she scurried back into the living room. Rosie shot Frankie a glance, brow arched in confusion. "How does she have so much energy?"

"She's a kid," She shrugged. "I think they're all like that."

The cars were rusted and chipped, paint peeling off to expose the tarnished metal beneath, and Rosie couldn't help but suspect they must have been Frankie's years ago. He could picture her as a girl, playing with tiny tin cars on the floor of a garage somewhere whilst her father worked away fixing the real thing. The idea made him smile.

Jill made little whooshing engine sounds as she wheeled the cars around on the rug, occasionally ramming one into the table leg as she mimicked a crash - there was a groove in the wood from years of games such as this. Rosie found he did not know how to play with a child as small and as quiet as Jill, but he lined the toy racing cars up in a nice, neat row for her, quickly discovering the girl much preferred to destroy that work than admire it.

"This one's yours," She declared, holding out a chubby hand to present him with a tiny metal biplane, half of its propeller long since broken off.

"Why thank you," He grinned, accepting it gladly. They had been playing for a long time before Rosie realised he too had begun to mimic the sound of engines, lips pressed together as he tried to replicate the hum of his B-17.

Allan and Alice appeared after a while, and once the girls had opened their Christmas presents it was all hands on deck to prepare for their midday feast. The children were placed in charge of the bread stuffing, a charge they appeared to take incredibly seriously, and Rosie was presented with a pile of carrots and potatoes to peel. He sat at the table, dutifully toiling away, the kitchen gradually growing hotter and hotter as the chicken they'd bought from one of the neighbours slowly roasted in the oven.

The creak of a chair beside him caught his attention, and Rosie looked up as Frankie sat down, sliding a glass of sherry towards him. "Frankie, it's ten in the morning," He pointed out.

"If you're not at least halfway drunk by lunchtime, you're not doing Christmas right," Frankie shrugged. He noticed her father had already finished a glass. Taking a sip of her drink, she reached across the table, seizing one of the unpeeled potatoes from his pile, using a knife to whittle away at the skin. "You're very slow at this," She pointed out.

"Sorry, I'm not a practised potato peeler, dear."

She chuckled. "Guess we'll just have to train you up... Merry Christmas, Rosie."

He tore his gaze from his work, nicking the skin of his finger slightly with the blade, although he couldn't make himself mind. "Merry Christmas."

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A myriad of wonderful smells had filled the kitchen by the time they sat down to eat, his chair perched on a corner of the small table between Frankie and Jill. The girls had created little paper crowns for the occasion, crafted out of scraps of wallpaper and decorated with old buttons. Rosie's sat far too small atop his head, but he fought to keep it balanced on his scalp, replacing it every time it fell off. It was a simple banquet, but after the work they had put into creating it, he could've sworn it was the best food he'd ever eaten.

"This much like your Christmases in the States, Rosie?" Allen asked.

Rosie nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, yeah. Good food and good company, that's what it's for, ain't it?"

"I'd offer to let you call your family, but we don't have a phone," Frankie admitted, reaching across him to take Jill's plate so that she could cut up her chicken for her.

"It's no trouble, really. This is all wonderful," He nodded again, and Alice snorted as his paper crown slipped off of his head, tumbling to the floor.

Frankie shot the girl a look, brow arched in warning. He suddenly remembered what she had told him the night before. "Say, I haven't told you any of my flying stories yet, have I?" It was as if Alice were a dog, the way her ears pricked, intrigue suddenly lacing her expression.

"No. You haven't."

"Please do!" Jill added, and her older sister nodded in agreement.

Rosie began to recount some of his most interesting missions - the narrow misses, the daring manoeuvres - every detail embellished for dramatic effect to such an extent that he was at times bordering on fabrication, and he could tell from Frankie's smirk that she knew not everything he was saying was strictly true. She was smiling at her father across the table, the two of them enjoying the utterly transfixed expressions plastered across the children's faces, so enthralled that they almost forgot to eat.

Any scepticism Alice had shown before was long gone, staring wide-eyed across the table at him, her cheeks blooming red as if she'd come face to face with her lifelong hero. Either that or she was developing a crush. Frankie was beginning to suspect the latter. When dinner was finished, the girl approached her as she was filling the sink with water to wash up, leaning over to whisper in her ear.

"Frankie - Is Rosie your boyfriend?"

"What? ...No, honey, I don't think so."

Alice's brow furrowed, a look of absolute horror painting her face. "What do you mean you 'don't think so'?"

Frankie chuckled. "You'll get it when you're older."

She rolled her eyes, golden curls bouncing as she gathered the dirty dishes, stacking them in an orderly pile beside the sink. Bing Crosby came over the radio on the windowsill in front of her, the faint drawl of the King's Christmas speech coming from the main radio in the living room. Her dad had taken off his false leg again, revelling in every moment he didn't have to wear the thing, and Frankie was elbow-deep in soapy water by the time Rosie reappeared.

"Where'd you go?" She asked, looking up as he came in through the back door, paper crown still balanced atop his head.

"Getting rid of leftovers - the neighbour took the chicken scraps for her dogs."

"Ah," She nodded, suppressing a smile as he sidled next to her, seizing the dishcloth and beginning to dry the plates and cups she had finished scrubbing.

"... Yunno. Alice thinks you're my boyfriend."

Rosie nodded, laughing softly. "I think Jill thinks we're married."

"Oh she loooves you," Frankie teased, knocking against him with her hip. "She'll be wanting you to put her to bed later."

She wasn't wrong. The adults sat around the living room that night, the children long since sent to bed. Empty glasses covered the coffee table as they held their hands of cards close to their chests, finally able to have a proper game - albeit a slightly addled one. The room itself smelled of sherry, and their cheeks were all flushed pink, laughing as they played, the radio still turned on in the corner, although nothing came from it but static.

They were having such a good time that they didn't hear the little patter of footsteps trailing down the staircase - didn't look up until she was stood in the doorway, a ragged old teddy clutched in her hands. Jill's voice came out meek and exhausted. "I can't sleep."

"Well, I'm not surprised, my lamb," Frankie's dad spoke warmly. "You ate a whole month's sweet ration today."

She rubbed tiredly at her eyes, and Frankie pushed herself up off the sofa. "Alright, let's go, eh?"

"I want Rosie to do it," Jill insisted, sleepy brown eyes looking back at him. "Please?"

Frankie glanced over at him, shrugging as if to say 'I don't see why not'. "Sure thing," Rosie nodded, grunting slightly as he hopped up from his seat. Jill grinned, clutching at the cuff of his sleeve with a tiny hand as they headed up the stairs together.

Returning to her seat, Frankie grinned, watching them go until they were out of sight. It was quiet for a long moment, and she reached over to turn off the radio. Her father cleared his throat slightly. "You never mentioned - how long have you been with yer fella then?"

She had been halfway through a last sip of sherry, and choked suddenly on it, almost spitting it back out. "Who, Rosie? No, dad, we're just-"

"Oh, bloody hell, petal," He shook his head, and she wondered how he could make a term of endearment sound so frustrated. "I'm not blind as well as legless."

"You've still got one leg Dad-"

"Don't gimme that. That lad's in love with you, else he wouldn't have crossed the bloody country on Christmas Eve to come eat old carrots with you. And you! Christ alive, you look at him like you used to look at Danny-boy from down the street when you were goin' out with him. Except worse."

Frankie let out a long, agonised groan, slumping so far back against the sofa cushions it was as if she were hoping to melt into the furniture. "Dad!" She exclaimed. "... He's American."

He snorted. "Bloody hell, didn't think I raised you to be a snob."

"No! Not like that! I just... he lives in America. I can't leave you, Dad."

"Oh, piss off, yes you can. You think I'll grow this feckin' leg back overnight through the grace of your presence, love? If I let you waste your life sittin' around here, then I've failed as a Dad. I've failed your mum, n'all."

"Don't say that," She shook her head, tears forming and clouding her vision.

"No. I mean it. If that lad is gonna make you happy you go with him, dammit. Gettin' to raise you has been the best thing that ever happened to me, but you're your own woman now, Frank. And I've got a couple more little-un's to deal with. Can't have you hanging around, there's not bloody room anymore."

Frankie laughed, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. Her dad made to stand, groaning as he put weight on his false leg, and she jumped to her feet to help him, but he raised a hand to her, and she had no choice but to back away.

"I love you, petal," He beamed down at her, pressing a firm kiss to her forehead. "And now I'm going to bed. Too much bloody sherry." She squeezed his hand, stepping out of the way so he could hobble past, grunting slightly as he hauled himself up the stairs.

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By the time Rosie returned, Frankie was lying on the floor atop the pile of cushions and blankets he had used as a bed the night before, staring at the pictures on the wall.

"You're in my bed," He pointed out.

"I got the sofa last night - your turn."

"No - no. It's your house, you take the couch."

"Look, Rosie, we are going back tomorrow and I'll not return you to the boys with a bad back. Make me look like a bad host n'all."

He let out a sigh. "Fine," It was dark in the living room, and she couldn't wholly tell what he was doing until she felt the blanket lift up, and he burrowed beneath it beside her.

"... What are you doing."

"Compromise," Rosie shrugged, their shoulders pressed together. "... Who's Danny?"

"Oh my God!" Frankie exclaimed, covering her face with her hands, voice strained in embarrassment. "How much of that did you hear?!"

"Just a little. I was waiting for Jill to brush her teeth. So?"

She sighed, arms dropping to her sides in defeat. "He was my boyfriend for a bit when I was seventeen. It wasn't a big deal, but Dad loved him so he brings it up all the time."

He chuckled, nodding. "You were right, by the way. I do like your dad."

"Told you."

Neither of them said anything for a long time, the room plunged into silence save for the sound of them breathing. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could make out his features, her head lolling to the side as she stared at him.

"Actually, I lied," He confessed. Her brow furrowed in confusion, watching as Rosie rolled onto his side to face her. "I heard everything."

Frankie did the same, the pair facing each other properly. "You sneaky shit," She teased, and he let out a huff of laughter.

She heard him take a deep breath before he spoke again. "Was he right?"

"About what?"

In the dim light, she could see his brow furrow. "You know what."

Rosie's hand moved to cup Frankie's cheek, but before he could make a move she had closed the gap, and he felt the warmth of her lips press against his, sucking in a sharp breath through his nose. The blankets rustled as she pressed herself against him, wrapping an arm around the back of his neck as he lifted his head up off the pillow, moving to hover over her, their lips never parting.

After a moment, she pulled away, and they both took a second to catch their breath. "Jill's probably gonna get up again in a minute. She's a nightmare to put to bed, I swear."

"Understood," Rosie nodded firmly like a man on a mission, peppering kisses from her cheek down to the crook of her neck as she squirmed, trying not to laugh as she planted a palm flat on his forehead, prying him away.

He sighed, and a bubble of laughter escaped her throat. "I'm serious! We will scar that child for life."

"Alright," Rosie huffed, lying back down beside her. He raised his hand to her face once more, her skin sticky with sweat as he pushed her hair out of the way, getting a proper look at her as best he could in the dark.

"Did I ever tell you how beautiful you are?"

Frankie hummed. "No. Don't think so."

"You are beautiful," He mused, winding a strand of her hair around his finger. "Even in the dark - even when you smell terrible and I say I don't care. Which I don't, by the way."

She snorted with laughter, briefly pressing her lips to his once more. "Well, I also don't mind when you smell like shit."

"Aw, that's sweet."

A small voice came from the doorway, and for a second both of their hearts stopped, hurling themselves away from each other as they tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. "I still can't sleep," Jill protested, frown audible in her voice. Rosie felt the urge to laugh at the accuracy of Frankie's prediction, and she clamped a hand over his mouth to muffle the sound.

"That's ok sweetie, I'm coming," She called. The blankets rustled as she moved to stand, pressing her forehead against his just long enough to whisper.

"I told you so."

#masters of the air #masters of the air oc #masters of the air fic #rosie rosenthal #rosie rosenthal x oc #mota oc #mota fic #oc: frankie #frankie x rosie #oc: george #fic | i'm your man #i need to take a NAP after writing this one

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cod-dump · 2 months

Note

Hello, Mike! Sad question incoming!

In the au where Nikolai is Soap’s bio dad, how would he react to his death?

First post mentioning Nik being Soap’s bio dad

———

Regret

———

He didn’t go with them when they went to spread his ashes in Scotland. He gave Price a part of them then took the rest, no one saying a word about him not being there.

Nik took them there, flew them out and told them about Soap’s favorite trail that they would go on when he was a kid. It was sad he couldn’t really name any current, something that would haunt him. Nik would have regret not doing more with his son outside of work. He should’ve been there more, tried to reach out sooner even though he believed his boy wanted nothing to do with him.

He will forever be haunted by that regret, that anger with himself for not doing more. But he couldn’t imagine the pain his mother was dealing with. Nik chose to be the one to tell her, even though it had been years since they last spoken in person. He felt so numb during it all as he went to her house — The house that Soap would grow up in without Nik being a part of it.

He knocked after a deep breath. Nik had to steel himself, ready for the onslaught of emotion that was to come from his ex-wife and the mother of his child. The look on her face when she opened the door and saw him was first shock, then anger, then confusion.

“Nikolai?”

“Linda.”

The crack in his voice made fear take over her features, every muscle visibly tensing as she gripped the door frame.

“What happened?”

Nik’s voice failed him for a moment, knowing what he was about to say will break them both. He hadn’t said it yet, out loud, of what happened to Soap, to their Johnny. He had heard it plenty of times before, almost immediately after it happened. He’s screamed, cried, raged — Every emotion he has felt. And now he’s settled at silent regret, and once he says it out loud, it’ll start all over again.

“Johnny’s dead.”

It came out blunter than what he intended but there is no gentle way to tell a mother her son is dead.

Linda stared at him without a change in her expression for five seconds before she started shaking her head.

“No… No-“

He couldn’t look at her, he felt a crushing weight shake him as he watched Linda’s world come crashing down under it. She clung to the door frame, chanting ‘no’ as tears began to stream down her face.

As expected, she turned to anger.

“You’re lying!”

“Linda-“

“He’s not- Why would you say that?! Do you hate me that much? To cause me that pain?!”

Nik said nothing more, he knew his voice would give out if he tried. He just listened to her yell, deny their son’s death, and cry. It was devastating watching the woman who he once loved, the woman who he had a child with, break. Her rage would melt away to pure devastation, and she would look him in the eyes and scream.

Then the door would slam, and Nik would be standing there alone. He didn’t even make it off the porch, failing onto the steps with a great heaviness before he broke. He didn’t scream like he did the first time, didn’t feel the intense overwhelming feeling of it all. He just cried, feeling like a true failure. A father who failed his child.

A child without parents has a name: Orphan. What is a parent who lost their child called? For Nik, no single word could ever describe what he was feeling, the hole in his heart that will never be fixed. There was no word for that. No word that truly showed that pain, no word that when spoken someone would understand it.

He would sit there, truly broken. And the door would open behind him, and Nik would tense as a hand lightly touches his shoulder. He turned his head to see Linda, drained of life. Her hand remained on his shoulder.

“I… please come inside.”

And he did.

Linda asked about what happened and they cried together. They were the same in that moment, they had both lost something irreplaceable. Johnny was gone and neither would ever be the same. He had expected her to bring up his career, repeat that old argument that he negatively influenced Soap and made him idolize the military and war. But she didn’t. She didn’t need to, Nik had thought it moments after he was sat down and told what happened.

That regret was a complex emotion. He didn’t just regret not being there for his son, he regretted him being the one putting him there. Johnny was so smart, Linda and Nik wanted him to go to college and get an engineering degree. Pursue that persistent fascination of the stars and space he had since he was a toddler. But Johnny didn’t do that, he wanted to be just like his dad.

Nik would forever have that hang over him, and Linda knew that.

Under Linda’s request they cremated him. Nik had made no objections, neither wanted to have a funeral. That is not how they wanted to remember their boy, cold and dead before them. She gave 141 some of his ashes, the rest was for her and Nik.

And as Price, Ghost, and Gaz made their way up that trail to those cliffs, Linda and Nik went elsewhere.

“He loved it here… told me he missed coming here with you.”

The house that Nik had owned when he still had split custody over Johnny was a place he had a hard time being. He never sold it or abandoned it. He maintained it but never lived there. He couldn’t, especially not now. That place was for him and his son. It was not a home without him.

The woods behind the house was Johnny’s playground, Nik would’ve bought him an entire forest to make him happy. But the fifteen acre patch of woodland was just enough for Johnny. The stream behind the house was one of his favorite places to go. He would try to catch fish or any small critter and bring them back to the house. It still flowed gently, even after all these years. The birds sang, the breeze was welcoming. It felt unfitting for the occasion.

“I remember that model boat I got him. Took us a couple weeks to build it and seal it… just so he could watch it flow down the stream.”

Linda sniffled before she reached into her bag and pulled out the small wooden vessel. It was more cardboard than wood, biodegradable. And it held what was left of Johnny.

“I was so mad when he came home for the school year with his new church pants torn…” Linda smiled sadly, looking at the tiny boat.

“I told him to change but he didn’t listen,” Nik spoke, smiling softly at the memory.

“He was a stubborn boy, nothing you could’ve done.”

Nik swallowed hard, looking away from the stream and into the trees.

“Nothing we could’ve done to change his mind,” Linda said softly.

Another breeze would sweep through the trees, birds singing another chorus of their wordless song and the stream would continue to flow and laugh. The world would continue spinning, no matter what.

Linda kneeled by the stream and Nik would follow. She would stare down at the boat before she placed it in the water. And the stream would take it. They watched it go down the stream, and for a moment Nik could see a boy racing alongside it, dirty pants and wild hair.

The stream would take him everywhere, just like the ocean and breeze will. He was always so free. And now he forever will be.

———

Is this canon to this au? Nah but it’s good writing practice. Little projection at the end

MWIII didn’t happen :)

#angst #call of duty #modern warfare #cod mwiii #modern warfare iii #cod nikolai #john soap mactavish #ask #thanks for the ask <3 #drabble #ficlet #nik is soap’s dad

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rukkiya · 11 months

Text

say my name

༻(mammon x reader)༺

‧꒰ა what kind of joke was this? why were you looking at him that way? why couldn’t you remember his name? ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

There wasn’t a second Mammon wasn't seen without you. He was practically glued to your hip, you didn’t mind it one bit though.

Throughout your stay, Mammon’s attitude towards you had switched over time. You two grew closer than you thought you would. You’ve never been so vulnerable or so trusting with someone until you met him.

Before he would whine and groan about having to be your “babysitter” but he’s come to terms with it himself, he wouldn’t want anyone else but him to be the one to protect you during your stay.

Of course, you spent time with the other brothers too. You enjoyed being with them all together especially but they always complain about how Mammon steals you all for himself and you only ever spend time with him. He can’t help it; he's the embodiment of greed after all.

Mammon just shrugs at the accusations, flashing his million dollar smile every time he drags you away.

Today was like any other. Mammon was waiting for you outside of your now empty class to walk home, though you two weren't the last one there.

A witch Mammon had met a while back before you had arrived has been keeping an eye or you two, specifically you since you arrived. She had been livid ever since you’ve come down here. A whole year has passed and he still can’t seem to get enough of you, she was sick of it.

All his attention was solely on you, she couldn’t stand it one bit. He looks at you the way she looks at him.

He never made any moves other than just spending time with her but he was everything she ever wanted. She tried to win him over but you came into the picture and he can’t seem to look anywhere else but you.

She wants you out of the picture.

“Oi, hurry ya tiny legs up human, the great Mammon has things to do, places to be.” Mammon slides open your empty classroom door, waiting for you to step out into the hallway first.

“I'm going, I'm going, no need to rush. I promise we'll get home and watch the movie in time ok?” You laugh at him, seeing him with his hand on his hip, foot tapping impatiently. So dramatic.

“Ya know you’re lucky I’m here otherwise your little human self would be lost, but you have me to keep ya in check.” Mammon feels the corner of his lips turn upwards as your laughter gets louder at his remark.

Though his smile falls flat instantly when he feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand, making him shoot up from the doorframe standing tall turning to look for the source of where he feels it coming from.

Bloodlust.

He feels pure bloodlust.

He feels someone watching you both but he can’t pinpoint where. This only makes him more nervous. He isn't one to be scared too easily by others but the feeling in his chest told him to get you and leave as soon as possible.

“Mon? Hey are you alright?” you ask, fixing your bag on your shoulder, taking a step closer to him. You lift your hand to poke his cheek but he takes hold of your hand before you even make contact with his skin.

“Ya done? Come on, let's go.” he quickly says, grabbing your hand, dragging you with him before you can even reply.

“Is everything alright? Are you ok? You seem a bit off.” You ask, worried by his sudden change in demeanor, from where you walk a couple feet behind him you can see the uncomfortable clench of his jaw. He seems bothered.

He doesn't reply, he can't. He doesn't want whoever was watching the two of you to sense his worry, he cant put you in danger. If they want to do something they'd have to go to him and him alone.

You don't ask anymore questions, sensing he was uneasy made you feel uneasy. He never is like this around you, let alone unresponsive.

Once you both make it outside the school by the entrance he slows down, looking behind him to see if he can spot the person who was there. The feeling he felt was much less intense but he still felt it nonetheless less.

“Mammo-“

“Don’t worry ya pretty head about it, everything's all good ok? I just wanted to get out of there. Stop ya silly question game. Ya don’t need to worry so much alright? Come on, let’s go home now.” He assures, flashing you a smile hoping you buy it. Giving your hand a small squeeze, he’s been holding onto it since he felt the intense feeling, he can’t seem to let you go just yet, not until he can’t feel it anymore.

He can’t tell you what he feels, the feeling of something bad about to happen any second. He doesn’t want to scare you.

“As long as you’re ok then alright. But if anything is bothering you, you know you can tell me right?” You nod, giving his hand a small squeeze back.

“The great Mammon doesn't have problems, nothing bothers me. Don't worry about me so much, you know you're the here human right? I’m the second strongest demon!” He huffs, turning away feeling his face heat up at your concern. Why’d you have to care for him so much? Be so attentive and kind, to make things worse you look so freaking cute everytime too! The poor demon can’t handle this!

He starts walking again, pulling you along with him, not letting go until you both arrive at the House of Lamentation.

“Y/n do you want to grab some food with Belphie and I? It won’t take long we just-“

“Oi, we have plans for later, find someone else to go with.” Mammon sighs, stepping in front of you and into Beel’s view.

“But they said they will next time we go out, you have them all the time.” Beel looks behind Mammon and at you, look of disappointment on his features.

“Mammon we still have a few hours until the movie airs on TV, we’ll be back before. How about I grab you your favorite ramen before so we can have some snacks for the movie hm?” You ask, only to feel mammon pull you to him a bit more.

“Ya promised.” He turns to you, small pout playing on his pretty lips.

“Yes I did, and I’ll be back. I promised Beel and Belphie too. I won’t be out long ok?” You laugh, lifting your arm giving his cheek a small squeeze hearing him let out a dramatic sigh.

“Ya can’t miss the movie ok?” He asks, bringing his free hand up holding his pinky out. “Promise me you’ll be back.” He asks, you only smile at him and lock your pinky around his.

“Promise.” You whisper, seeing his lips tug down.

“Please be careful out there.” He leans down, head resting on your shoulder. He feels uneasy again, he just got away from that weird source of energy he was feeling a while ago and now you were going out? Without him to keep an eye on you at that.

the horrible feeling of something bad happening creeps up on him.

“Is he throwing a tantrum?” Belphie speaks up from behind beel, annoyed look etched on his features as he glares at Mammon.

“Mammon you steal y/n from us all the time, let them spend time with us now. You’ve taken away our scheduled nap time the other day, let them spend time with us too.” He rolls his eyes, making Mammon click his tongue.

You feel the weight of Mammon’s head lift from your shoulder, the look in his eyes is different from just a few seconds ago.

“Oi listen you two, ya better keep an eye on them alright? Keep them close and bring them back safely.” He turns to them, look of worry in his eyes as he speaks with the most serious tone you’ve heard from him.

“We know, we will.” Beel nods his head, surprised by the second borns change in attitude

“Alright, understood. No need to give us the Lucifer lecture now.” Belphie moves toward you, looping his arm around your free hand pulling you towards the door with him.

“I ain’t messin’ around, I'm serious.” Mammon glares at the youngest, making Belphie roll his eyes again.

“I said ok. They’ll be safe with us. Now let's go.” He pulls you again, Beel makes his way to the door and opens it for you both to exit first.

“I’ll be back, we’ll both watch the movie and I’m yours for the rest of the night ok?” You assure him, you only feel him give your hand one last squeeze before Belphie practically rips you from Mammon's grip.

He can’t hold you back from spending time with the other brothers though he wishes you’d just stay with him, the uneasy feeling made him all the more protective, he can’t help it.

The evening with Beel and Belphie went well. You all ate at Beel’s favorite restaurant and caught up, everything was fine until Belphie shot up from your shoulder while he was taking a nap. His eyes were blown wide and he immediately started checking your surroundings, but nothing was out of the ordinary. The restaurant was somewhat empty, only a random woman sitting a few tables down facing your way and an old couple in the table across from you.

You had asked what it was and when he calmed down, seeing nothing was really wrong and he brushed it off as possibly being a nightmare. Though he knows full well why he got so on edge, his senses were heightened and he felt danger was near though looking around no danger was there.

He was still wary the rest of the time and couldn't find it in himself to sleep again so the remainder of Beel finishing up he kept his eyes open, looking around just in case.

You all ended up leaving shortly after but not before stopping to get some snacks you promised Mammon.

“I'll be out in a second, do you guys want anything?” you ask, reaching onto your bag and turning to look at Beel.

“Chips and chocolate please.” Beel smiles at you and you smile back, nodding your head.

“Alright i'll get you those two things Beel, Belphie how about you?” you turn to Belphie who was falling asleep while leaning on your shoulder, eyes fighting to stay open.

“No thanks, I just want to get some sleep.” He hums, nuzzling close to you.

“We’ll head home right now, Im quickly going to run in and grab a couple snacks for Mammon and Beel.” You give his arm a small squeeze and Beel steps around you , grabbing Belphie and leaning him on his shoulder.

“You don't want us to go in with you?” Beel calls out before you reach the sliding doors, feeling a strange sensation. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand, he felt nervous for no reason.

“Belphie is sleepy, I don't want to make him walk anymore, but thank you, i'll be out right now.” You assure beel, sending him a smile and a nod of your head before turning and walking into the store.

You step into the empty convenience store, waving at the old lady who runs the joint who sees you come in with Mammon most of the time.

You make your way to the snack aisle and stop in front of the chips, picking out Beel’s and looking at the other options for Mammon, that is until you hear some ruckus come from the aisle next to you.

The sound of someone falling caught your attention, making you walk away from the aisle, Beel’s bag of chips still in your hands as you peek out the side to see what happened next to you.

In the middle of the aisle you see a young woman who doesn’t seem like a demon , she was probably a witch. She was on the floor, different things from the shelf surrounding her as she struggled to get back up. She looks somewhat familiar. Like the woman who was eating at the same restaurant you were previously at.

“Are you alright? Do you need a hand ma’am?” You ask, taking a step into the aisle, your legs walking up to her immediately to check if she was ok.

“Ah dear, thank you. I’m so clumsy I can’t seem to catch myself before I trip sometimes.” She smiles up at you and you smile back, reaching your hand out to help her up.

“Don’t worry, I’m the same. I can’t seem to do anything without accidentally hurting myself in some stupid way.” You laugh as she stands on her feet.

Beel checks his phone, he looks around the dark street and clicks his phone off. He feels uneasy, he feels the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. It’s only been two minutes since you’ve walked in. He knows you’ll be out but he can’t spot you in there through the big glass windows from where he’s standing.

“Thank you for helping me up, you didn’t have to. Most demons here will walk away or don’t even bother.” She gives a small pout, leaning down to pick up some of the things she dropped.

“Oh no need to thank me it’s the least I can do, you’re not hurt are you?” You ask, leaning down helping her clean up around her.

“Nono, I’m not but I think my fall might’ve cracked my homemade cookies I just made.” She frowns, looking in her hand bag, taking out a small package of beautifully wrapped cookies that were somewhat broken.

“Oh no! Sorry you broke them, but hey at least you can still eat them!” You try to cheer her up, making her laugh.

“You’re right, I have many bags in here they’re still edible. Would you like one, sorry it’s broken though.” She hands you one, her frown long gone as she was smiling brightly at you, holding the cookies up to your face.

“Uhm it’s ok I-“

“It’s the least I can do! you’ve so kindly helped me up, I just baked them, they're good!” She assures, taking hold of your hand and gently putting the small bag of cookies onto your palm.

“Ah, are you sure?” You ask, feeling bad for taking her cookie’s. But also unsure because if you’ve learned anything from the human world ist to not trust anything anyone gives you, especially if it’s upon first meeting.

“Please, take them, they'll only go to waste, I’ll probably end up giving the rest to my family or eating them for myself now.” She waves you off.

“Foolish human, so trusting and gullible.” The witch thinks as she smiles at you when you nod your head, agreeing to take the cookies.

“Try one, tell me how they taste.” She urges, making you still for a second. You weren’t sure if you should, she was being a little bit too persistent.

“Come on, they won’t bite. They’re chocolate chip cookies. I’m practicing my baking skills. You see, I want to be a baker and open my own shop. I need people to tell me how my treats are or else they won’t sell right.” She asks, somehow making you agree with her because yeah, it makes sense. Right?

“Alright! I’ll be your first customer.” You nod your head and see her smile grow wider.

“You’ll regret ever coming down here, fool, he’ll be mine. He’ll be mine again for sure I know it.” The witch can’t help her smile from widening, she knew humans were trusting but gosh, you were too trusting, you were dumb, this will be your demise.

You reach into the bag and pause, seeing her look so happy made you feel somewhat assured. She just wanted someone to try them, no harm. Right?

The feeling Beel had was getting worse. It was so bad Belphie started to feel it too.

“Beel, where’s y/n? Why is she taking so long? I don’t like this feeling.” Beel feels a tug on his arm and sees Belphie wide awake, eyes blown wide just like earlier.

You reach into the bag, fingertips brushing against the cookie as you grab one of the small pieces that had broken off.

You bring it out of the bag and the aroma of chocolate fills your senses, you're such a sucker for chocolate it’s not even funny.

You bring the piece to your lips and take a bite of the small piece in your hold. The cookie was crispy and soft, the chocolate was sweet and it balanced out just perfectly.

“Mmmn, this is really good.” You smile at her, giving her a thumbs up of approval making her chuckle.

“I’m glad you like them! Please eat the rest too, that'll make me so happy!” She clasps her hands together, happinesses filling her being. Her dark wretched soul was happy, this will surely work. She will have mammon back to herself one again.

You nod your head, wrapping the cookies and placing them into your bag before you hear the store doors open with the small bells over the doors chiming.

“Y/n?!” You hear Belphie call you.

“Y/n where are you at-“

“What happened?? Why were you taking so long?” Beel asks, his long legs walking down the aisle when he spots your head from the one over.

“Ah sorry, I was just helping this woman she had fallen and….” You explain, turning around to the woman who gave you the cookie only to see zero trace of her ever being here.

Belphie scopes the rest of the store, looking down each aisle to find the source of dark energy.

Beel takes another step up to you and leans down a bit.

“What woman?” He asks.

“I think she left when you both came in then, she just fell, I helped her up and you both came in that’s all.” You recall.

He eyes you for a second before turning and looking back at Belphie.

“Did you see anyone when we came inside?” Beel asks, Belphie only nods his head no.

“Who were you talking to? Did you get what you came for?” Belphie steps up to you now, his eyes were wider than his usual sleepy hooded eyes. He was wide awake.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to take so long, I just helped a lady, and yes. I got the snacks. Let me just go pay real quick!” You assure them before walking past the two to pay for what you got.

“Sorry I kept you two waiting, let’s go home.” You turn to them, sending them your signature closed eye smile and they feel somewhat relieved, you didn’t seem hurt or anything. You were still your normal self.

“By the way, are you guys alright? You seemed pretty anxious when you came in to get me back there.” You ask, looking at Beel then Belphie who only shudder at the feeling they felt earlier.

They felt strong dark energy radiating from inside the store, it got really bad for a few seconds until they couldn't stand it anymore, that's when they walked in. But everything seemed fine in there, you were ok. That’s all that mattered to them.

“We just got worried, you took a bit longer than we expected.” Belphie sighs, walking slower to match your pace.

“Now I’m extra sleepy thank you.” He yawns, making you laugh.

“We’re here, you can get rest, sorry about that, I didn’t mean to worry you both.” You apologize again to the twins, they seemed very shaken up back there. You’ve never seen them both so worried, so on edge.

Beel unlocks the door, mentioning for Belphie’s and you to walk in first.

“Ah before I go to bed, here Beel. You must be hungry now, I made you wait too long.” You hand him the bag of chips you grabbed earlier and see Beel’s eyes brighten up.

“Thank you y/n I forgot you got me these I’m hungry no-“

“Oi!” A loud voice cuts through, stomping from the staircase is heard making the three of you turn around.

“You both kept em’ out for too long, the movie is about to start right now!” Beel and Belphie hear Mammon already nag, making them both sigh.

You stare at the two in confusion.

“Movie starts in five human, get ya little legs movin up to my room.” Mammon makes it to the bottom of the steps, glaring at the two youngest.

“Oi human.” Mammon calls again, reaching down to grab your hand to get your attention.

You haven’t even looked at him.

You feel a hand come in contact with yours and you immediately pull away, looking at the strange man who tried to grab you in confusion.

“Oi, what’s wrong? Are ya hurt?” Mammon asks, slight ping in his chest when you pull away.

Belphie and Beel look at you confused, why did you move away from him?

“No, uhm I’m not….” You say, confused at the white haired man’s actions.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” You ask, brows furrowing together the longer you stare at him.

Mammon's smile drops in seconds, his hands still, he can’t find it in himself to blink because what?

“What? Are ya jokin with me human? If ya are, this ain't funny.” He asks, feeling his stomach sink.

You were giving him a strange look.

The same one you wore when you first arrived down here.

Beel looks at Mammon, then at you, then at Belphie who looks just as confused as Mammon.

“Joking? Ah, nono uhh sorry I don't really remember you. Have we met before?” you ask, trying to think back to where you could have possibly met the strange white haired man with beautiful golden eyes with blue undertones.

Nothing, no recollection of ever meeting him comes up. He's handsome, you're more than sure if you had met him before you'd remember his face.

“Oi what are ya guys doing? Belphie, is this your idea of a funny prank huh?” Mammon grits, walking away from you and up to the youngest, grabbing him by his collar.

“Mammon calm down it isn't one of Belphie’s pranks.'' Beel steps closer to them, not wanting to see them fight.

Belphie stills in Mammon’s hold. Looking up at his older brother with wide eyes because he himself doesn't know what's going on.

“This isn't something I'd tell them to do, Mammon, I swear.'' Belphie whispers, eyes wide because he is not getting why you're acting strange all of a sudden either.

Mammon wants to laugh, you are all playing along so well, especially you. But he wants this to stop. It isn't funny anymore.

“Come on guys, please.” Mammon lets out a breath, letting go of Belphie and looking back at you.

You only look at Beel and Belphie just as confused as them.

“I'm sorry, Beel Belphie, what's going on? I don't get it? Why does he think this is a prank?” You ask, the twins and the strange man look even more worried now, the white haired man's face went blank once again.

“Y/n, what's wrong? Are ya feeling sick? Did somethin’ happen?” Mammon calls you by your name, making you all the more confused now.

“How does he know my name?” You think.

He takes a step closer, pleading look in his eyes as he stops in front of you.

“Y/n what's wrong? Why're you acting strange?” Belphie cuts in, he was getting more uneasy the more you kept this up.

“I'm fine, why do you guys keep asking me that?” You sigh, they were the ones acting strange. How did Beel and Belphie know this strange man? Why was he in the house?

Mammon slowly lifts his hand near you, looking you in the eyes, stooping before his hand makes contact with your forehead. “Can I make sure ya dont have a fever?” He asks, cautions of his movements now. When you moved away earlier it made his heart sink. He doesn't want to see that look on your face again. He feels something horrible.

He knows you wouldn’t pull a stunt like this on him. You would never dream of it. You would always scold the brothers everytime they would do something similar or bring him down, this isn't like you at all.

You nod your head yes, feeling him gently brush your hair away, his warm palm laying on your forehead.

“Y/n, I want you to do somethin’ for me, please?” Mammon feels his voice waver a bit, your temperature was more than normal, you didn't feel too hot or anything that indicates you were sick. But he felt something was more worse than it looked, he shouldn't have let you leave.

“Can you say my name?” Mammon’s voice comes out so soft, the concern etched on his features makes you feel so bad.

The white haired man seems so worried about you, but you can't understand why.

“I-Im sorry, I don’t know you. I don't know your name.” Your voice comes out just as low as his.

A sudden sharp pain in your chest crawls its way up when you see the man in front of you stare at you with glossy eyes, look of defeat when he brings his other hand up to his hair frantically. It felt as if the pain he was feeling was rubbing off on you. “I'm sorry.” You repeat, seeing his head drop.

Everything else seems in place, the house, the brothers. Today all you can recall was walking home from school with the twins, then grabbing something to eat. The only thing out of the ordinary was the white haired man who stood in front of you. His reaction made your heart ache, he seemed to be in so much pain. It makes you want to comfort him, you feel so bad, so bad for not remembering the one who fell in love with you, the one who you’ve been in love with since you’ve first met.

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authors note: hello loves!! ⸜(˙꒳˙ ) bagel is back with another obey me fic wooooo!!◝(⁰▿⁰)◜this one is dedicated to my sweetest boi mammon, I swear to freaking gosh I’ve been thinking about him so much lately I needed to write for him LOLOL, BUT!! this fic was so much fun to write (yes it’s an angst-open ending AGSISN SORRYSHSHSH two in a row back to back I know I’m a monster) but I’m so excited to share this one with y’all!! this is for my obey me enjoyers mwah mwah I do hope you all enjoy!! reminder to stay safe, drink plenty of water and take care!!^~^<3 (also!! this isn’t proof read so I do apologize for any errors or mistakes!)

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