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#ooc | nines speaks
nineliabilityrisk · 4 months
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current state of mind. pardon me ive been unwell abt him recently
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celestialdetected · 6 months
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Oh the more I learn about the Tealeaf boy(s) the more i want to write them.
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fearfled · 3 months
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9   PEOPLE   I   WANT   TO   GET   TO   KNOW   BETTER .   
last   song   i   listened   to:   out of control - she wants revenge (sexy af)
favourite   colour:   mustard yellow and blood red
currently   watching:   my cat pushing shit off the table
last   movie   /   tv   show   i   watched:   movie would be plus one (2019), show is superstore (i think I'm kelly???)
spicy   /   savory   /   sweet: savoury
relationship   status:   single    (very)
last   thing   i   googled:   justin long with no context
current   obsession:  dippy egg
tagged by @3atmaggots / tagging @sevensaith, @ @righteouslysin, @cstarling, @citizenstarlight, @ruinedmyself, @heartheaded,@hellroyalty, @riighteouspath, @qapsiel, @sarcasticsnackpack, @innerwar, @awkwardcourage + more, please do it I want to see your answer but I can't put 100 blogs here
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harmcnia-gropius · 6 months
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♡ tag dump ♡
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blackdragonmedicdean · 7 months
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I was listening to the song Ex-Mortis by INK (Ice Nine Kills) and for some reason it made me think of Faith too like it would be a good song to use for a Faith animation of some sort.
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froggyworlds · 1 year
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The first thing he physically processes, besides the body- and mind-numbing cold, is that he can feel snow beneath him, and there’s something warm and sticky on his hands. A frigid wind whistles in his ears and bites through his layers easily, but he doesn’t even have the strength to shiver. He can’t move. His muscles and nerves can’t cooperate, not when he’s this cold.
Light peeks in, and then more of it, and he finds that it’s still dark out, a huge orange moon hanging lazily in the sky, aloof to the goings-on below it. It paints the white snow around him every shade of red, and, wait, no, that’s blood.
He is covered in blood.
--
or: Jonah dies out in the snow, but it’s a little more complicated than that.
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wandercr · 3 months
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three things
1). it has been too cold to do anything other than huddle on my couch when i'm not at work
2). i might add chris as a side muse here bc i miss him
3). i watched dylan dog: dead of night the other day, and HOW am i supposed to cope with brandon routh being a badass when i know him as my favorite soft boy superhero/man who stars in not one, but two, hallmark christmas movies feat. cats
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cowboydisaster · 8 months
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Dark Red
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pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader word count: 5.6k summary: The Task Force 141 goes out drinking, and you wind up on your stomach in Ghost's bed. If you knew it would only take a few rounds of drinks, you would have gotten drunk with him earlier. (eventual smut, lots of family 141 interactions beforehand) a/n: This is my first COD fic and also the first thing I've written since May, so go easy on me if it's ooc pls xx. If you like this fic please give a follow or a reblog, I'm fixing up my blog and I'll be writing a lot more Simon. beta read by @margowritesthings warnings: nsfw, 18+, minors dni (smut, fingering, size difference, doggy)
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Your dress is wrapped tightly around your frame, held up by tiny golden chains that drape over your shoulders. It's dark green, and just barely covers your ass. It's definitely not the tactical gear that you’re used to wearing. You swallow thickly, pulling it down over your thighs as much as possible as you glance over yourself in the mirror. You barely recognize the reflection in front of you. No eye black, no tac-vest or combat boots. Tonight you’re not a soldier, you’re a civilian.
Price had arranged a night out to celebrate the 141’s latest win. He invited the Task Force alongside some allies for drinks at a club of all places, figuring everyone deserved to unwind. You were hesitant at first, but the boys all reassured you it would be just a few drinks. 
Once all the little details of your outfit are in place, you give yourself a onceover before pushing open Price’s bathroom door. Ghost, Soap, Gaz, and Price are all leaning over the kitchen counter, speaking quietly about the mission. They smile, oblivious to you as you exit the bathroom, feeling a bit self conscious about the dress Kate insisted you wear. That is until Ghost catches a glimpse of you out of the corner of his eye and quietens. He turns, and you watch his back straighten, hands in the pockets of his jeans as his eyes slowly run up and down your body. Something about that stare… you wonder if Ghost would ever see you the way you see him. It's been years now of you pining after him. You could never tell him. He’s your lieutenant, and besides, you’ve heard what happens to the recruits who make a move on Ghost. Every single one of them was harshly rejected and dropped from the program. You can't compromise your job, especially not for someone who doesn’t want you back. 
 Ghost stares, and the other three men turn to you in sync. A fierce blush blooms across your face as four pairs of eyes land on you. Ghost is wearing that familiar balaclava, the one he wears out in public or around the base. It hides everything but his eyes, and you stare into their swirling depths for a moment before the eye contact becomes too much. You clear your throat, glancing down over your dress. 
“Too much…?” You whisper, questioning your choice of fashion and makeup. 
“No…Not too mu–” Ghost is cut off as Soap lunges forward with a smile bigger than Texas and slaps you on the arm.
“Lookin’ good, bonnie lass!” Soap laughs. He looks nice himself. You’ve only seen him in sweats around the base, but tonight all four of your teammates are dressed to the nines. 
“Not so bad yourself, Johnny.” You smile, clutching a small purse to your hip. 
“We ready then, Cap?” Gaz asks, glancing up from his phone for a moment, “Laswell just got there, said she brought König.” 
“Yes.” Price smiles at you, checking his watch, “I've ordered two Ubers. Should both be here.” 
You follow them outside, smiling and nodding to Ghost as he holds the door open for you. The Captain and Gaz take the first car while you file into the second with Ghost and Soap. Soap sits in the front, leaving you in the back with Ghost. Your lieutenant is quiet most of the ride over, letting Johnny fill the silence, which he does. But it's hard to focus on Soap talking. You’re hyper aware of the eyes on you and how exposed you are. Your breasts are practically pushed up into your face, and the dress suddenly feels all too tight. You’re used to fighting, not celebrating, not partying. You take a few deep breaths, knowing that once you get a few drinks in your system you’ll feel better. 
“You alright?” 
Your eyes flick up. It’s Ghost, just barely over a whisper. His eyes are fixated on something out of the window, but he still must have noticed your anxiety. You nod.
“Just nervous.” You admit, “I’m not used to all this.” You whisper, gesturing down to your dress and matching strappy heels, then to the car that is driving you through the nightlife. Ghost smirks under his mask. 
“Me neither. Bourbon helps.” He says. 
“You drink bourbon?” You ask, glancing over. Soap hasn’t noticed your little conversation and continues to chat up the driver. You hadn’t taken Ghost as a bourbon man, he’s piqued your curiosity. 
“I fancy Kentucky.” He remarks. You chuckle. 
“Don’t let him know that.” You nod your head in Soap’s direction. 
“Never.” Ghost smirks, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves. Your eyes fixate on the tattoos lining his left arm, just briefly exposed. You force your eyes away, knowing if you stare too long you’ll get caught up in the intricate pattern. The thought of running your fingers over those tattoos lingers in your head, soothing you enough to make the ride. 
The club is nice. Colored lights stream from the ceiling, a steady thrum of music vibrates lowly through the walls. You take in your surroundings, watching people drink, and dance with one another. It's a bit dark, hard to make out faces. You take note of all the exits while following behind Gaz and Price, both leading you all towards a closed off section of the club. Laswell is already there waiting along with her wife and König. The man must have already had a few drinks because he’s more relaxed than you've ever seen him. König’s eyes immediately land on you, and flutter down to the short cut off of your dress. You gasp as a burly figure pushes past you, separating you from König’s eyes. Ghost. He stands between the two of you and starts unclipping the velvet rope that separates you from the VIP section, much to the bouncer’s frustration. You blush, looking back to König whose eyes are sheepishly staring at the floor. Ghost must have pulled out his famous deadly glare. Your cheeks burn red. 
“There you are!” Laswell exclaims, motioning for the bouncer to lift the velvet rope that secures her area. No one seems to have noticed the little interaction between Ghost and König, thankfully. 
“VIP?” You chuckle. “Was that some CIA shit?” You ask, passing into the nicer, more secluded area of the club. A couch wraps around the corner wall, a table sitting in front of it. 
“Afraid not.” She smiles, wrapping an arm around her wife’s shoulders. You take a seat on the couch, watching as Ghost motions for Price to follow him towards the bar.
“We’ll be back.” He mumbles. Price pats Ghost on the shoulder as you watch them leave. 
“So, König?” Soap asks as he sits down, nodding towards the masked man. You take note that a beanie rests atop his head in place of his usual tac helmet. 
“Hmm?” König asks, suddenly alert. His eyes dart until they land on Soap. 
“How many drinks is it gonna take for you to shed the mask?” The scot asks. König grows quiet, tightly gripping his beer bottle by the neck. 
“Nein, I do not–” König begins before Soap jumps up, fist down on the table. 
“Nine?!” Soap laughs, “Keep em comin’, Ghost!” Soap hollers towards the bar. König shakes his head profusely.  
“No, that is not what I meant.” König tries to clear the situation up, but is drowned out by noise as Gaz and Soap laugh together. Laswell shoots you a knowing glance. You feel for her, being the only woman to watch these children.  
“You went with the dress I suggested.” Laswell notes, a proud smile gracing her lips. 
“I did.” You remark, blushing, “It's a bit tighter than what I’m used to.” You admit, sitting up straighter as a few from the table look back to you. 
“That's the point.” Laswell laughs, shooting you a quick wink. 
Before you can ask what she means by that, Ghost and Price return with two trays of shots. Half the shots are a golden, bronze color and the others are crystal clear. You raise an eyebrow as Ghost sits down beside you. 
“Get your bourbon?” You ask. 
“Had three down at the bar. You’ve got some catching up to do, yeah?” 
As everyone plucks shots from the trays, Ghost slides three in front of you with his knuckles. Two bourbons and one of the clear liquor. 
“What's this?” You ask, picking up the shot and holding it under your nose. It burns your nostrils, stealing the air from your lungs and replacing it with a sharp sting. 
“Patrón.” Ghost replies with a smirk. Your eyes follow as he grabs a clear shot from the tray with one hand, and pulls his mask up over his lips with the other. You’ve never seen his lips before. He brings the small glass to his lips, and you try to memorize the shape of his them, the jut of his jaw. It's gone in a flash as he downs the shot like it’s water before pulling his balaclava down over his chin. 
“Your turn.” He smirks, giant hand pushing the shot glass towards you. 
You follow suit, throwing your head back and letting the alcohol slide down your throat. You grimace at its strength, making a sour face. 
“Fuckin hell.” You cough. 
“You’ve got a bit of catching up to do.” Laswell points out, nodding down the table. You notice as Gaz takes the last shot from the first tray and your eyes boggle. 
— 
An hour later
Steady music thumps through the building. It feels slow, sensual. Maybe it’s because you’re wasted, but your confidence is through the roof as you make your way across the dance floor. Your eyes are locked onto your group, specifically searching for Ghost. The more alcohol that enters your system, the more you find yourself staring at him, noticing his every movement, every breath. You’d never allow yourself these thoughts while sober– the thought of wanting your Lieutenant is out of the question when your mind is clear, but right now it’s not. Your eyes search for him as you make your way back to the VIP section. 
“Lt?” You ask, sliding back onto the velvet sofa. 
“Went for a piss.” Soap exclaims.
“Why don’t you go meet him in the bathroom, maybe he could finally bend ya ov–” Johnny starts. 
“Soap!” Price cuts him off harshly. Soap only laughs, looking down the table to Gaz and the Captain. You look between the two of them, absolutely oblivious to the jokes that have been passed around the table all night.
“Oh, come on, Captain! He wants her and everyone knows it. We all see that shriveled up, cold, dead heart meltin’ at the sight of this bonnie.” Soap points to you. 
“Bloody hell, we bet on it!” Gaz chuckles, adjusting his cap.
“I must admit, I do see it.” König adds in. You squint down the table at him, and he immediately looks away. Price looks down at the boys like he’s schooling children. Your mouth falls open, taking in all the new information. 
“Remember that's your lieutenant you’re talking about. Leave his private life alone. You know how Simon is.” Price interjects, stopping the conversation before it gets out of hand. You blush fiercely, taken aback by their words. You don’t even think about what they’ve said, you can’t. Price looks to you apologetically. 
“What?” You ask, looking between them. “Ghost?” You double check, making sure that your hearing hasn’t totally left you. 
“He’s gone on you, mate.” Gaz adds, tone more serious than you would have expected.
“Christ, just pass me another drink.” You say, extending your hand out as König slides a shot down the table.
Thirty minutes later
You can feel his eyes on you. They’re burning through the thin fabric of your dress, where your breasts rest perfectly inside the silk, where the curve of your ass swells just above the hem of the dress. Your cheeks blush, whether from his eyes or the alcohol you’re not sure. Ghost doesn’t even try to hide his gaze, openly staring at you across the floor. His bourbon is held tightly in his hand as he watches you twirl on the dance floor between Soap and König. The lights aren't nearly as bright as your smile, and the night isn’t nearly as dark as the glint in your eyes. 
Ghost had watched men approach you on several occasions, and each time Soap shoved them away from you. You hadn’t given any of them the time of day. But Ghost? You’re taunting him, testing his self control to the point that he’s about to break. Every swing of your hips accompanies a purposeful glint in your eyes, a subtle bite of your lip. You’re teasing him, and he can’t take it. 
He deserves it. This is payback. He’s been apparently wanting you for months, and everyone in the damn Task Force knew about it but you. You’ve had enough of it. You extend your drink out for Soap to hold, accidentally bumping it against his chest and spilling a bit down his shirt. He takes the glass with furrowed eyebrows, looking down at your tipsy frame.
“Where ya headin’ to?” He yells over the music. 
“Have to use the bathroom. I’ll be right back, j-just watch my drink.” You stumble over your words, eyes never leaving Ghost’s. Soap nods, taking your cocktail and continuing his conversation with König. 
Ghost inhales deeply from across the room, eyes fixated on the taunting little “come hither” motion of your finger. You turn away from him, making your way towards the VIP bathrooms. You walk slow enough that he can follow after you, not that you’re even capable of walking too fast, lest you lose your balance and fall over. You push past a few other people, your heart beating quickly as you go. The music is loud and the lights are low, which you’re grateful for. Hopefully no one notices Ghost trailing behind you. A warm buzz radiates in your chest, pulsing down your bones as the liquor you’ve been downing boosts your confidence and slows your movements. 
You push the door open, stepping into the dimly lit bathroom. It’s clean and orderly, perks of the VIP section. Immediately, you walk in front of the oval mirror, checking over your outfit and fixing your hair. You reapply a quick layer of red lipstick, tucking it back into your purse just as you hear the lock click. 
Before you can turn around, a solid warmth presses against your back. Ghost. The sink digs into your hip bones as he sandwiches you in, one hand pushing your hair over your shoulder. His skin on yours is more intoxicating than any drinks you've had tonight. He's never touched you, not like this. You giggle, tipsy as ever as he rolls his balaclava over his nose. 
"Ghost–" You whine, fingers clenching around the sink as he gently nips at the skin of your neck. He inhales your perfume, exhaling in a deep growl that rumbles through you. 
"Simon." He corrects, hands wrapping around your hips. For just a moment, you sober up. He wants you to use his real name? 
Your coherent thoughts fall away as he turns you around, hands nearly bruising your waist. He kisses you. It's sloppy and drunk, but it's everything. All the months of wondering, and hoping– he's kissing you. If you'd known it would only take a few rounds of drinks for the courage, you would have gotten drunk with him earlier. Painted fingernails dig into his shoulders as you lean up for more. His tongue delves into your mouth, and you whine. He tastes like his favorite bourbon, smells like expensive cologne– his signature scent that you could recognize anywhere. Eventually, you pull away for the oxygen that he's so easily stolen from you. 
"Everyone said…" You take a deep breath, glassy eyes flicking from his scarred lips and chin up to his eyes. He waits for a response, but sees hesitation.
"Hmmm, what did they say, love?" 
"They said you wanted me." 
"How couldn't I?" Ghost growls. 
You yelp as he grabs underneath your thighs and lifts you up onto the sink. His hands are massive, maneuvering you as if he was trained to do so. Your legs wrap around his waist, grinding against the pressure in his jeans.
"Fuckin hell, I've wanted you since you first joined the Task Force." Ghost growls in between kisses and bites to your pulsepoint.
You think back to all that time ago. It seems like ages since you met the cool headed, brooding, terrifying Simon "Ghost" Riley. You remember thinking how easily he could break you. Now?– Oh, how you want him to. 
Hearing him say it out loud sends a wave of need straight to your core. Your hands shoot for his black leather belt, but he shakes his head, stopping you before you can unclasp it.
"Not here, love." He shakes his head, gripping your chin to press one slow, sweet kiss to your plump lips. Your eyes slip shut, and you pout as he pulls away from you and slides his balaclava back down over his chin. Disappointment pools over you as you search for an explanation.
"Flat's not far." Is all he says before he grabs your wrist and pulls you off the sink. He unlocks the bathroom door and begins pulling you back towards the crowd. "Here. Order us an Uber, yeah?" Simon asks you, slipping his phone into your free hand. 
It's too much for your drunken mind to take in as he leads you through the crowd of people. Colored lights strobe, making it hard for you to make out faces, but eventually you spot your group across the club. Soap is still holding your drink, but now he's looking around. Price and Laswell are with him, eyebrows drawn together in worry.
Remembering your task, you look down to Ghost’s phone. It's already opened up to the app, but messages are coming in and you can't swipe them away quick enough. The light bothers your eyes, and you attempt to read the messages as they flutter across the blurry screen.
Cpt. Price:
-Is y/n with you at the table? We seem to have lost her. Very worried.
You swipe the message away, and quickly order an Uber to Ghost’s saved home address. It's difficult, and you have to squint to make out all the swirling numbers and bright lights. But eventually, even in your state, you manage to get a confirmation code and receipt. An unsaved number pops up, more than one notification at a time lighting up the screen:
-LT, where'd you end up?
-Y/n asked me to hold her drink, disappeared on me. 
-OH SHIT
-LT!
-YOU HOUND!
-HAHA! Getting a pump, eh, LT? No worries, lad. I'll tell the Cap what's going on.
Several erotic emojis pop up on the screen and you blush fiercely.  Then you giggle. Soap, of course. You shake your head to rid yourself of the idea. The last thing you want is for Soap to blab about this. 
Simon pulls you through the exit and into the cold night. The breeze causes a shiver to run up your spine, and your dress helps none. As he leads you towards the road, you check the address once more and slip Simon’s phone back into his blazer pocket. 
"I d-didn't know you lived in Manchester." You whisper as he leads you out into the cold night. 
"Manny, born and raised.” You can hear Ghost huff through his mask, as if something humors him, “But no one knows where I live." He mutters, leading you down towards the busy street. 
No one except for you.
Cars pass by, and scantily clad men and women rush down the sidewalks searching for the same pleasure that you’re seeking. You bite your lip, feeling a bit nervous now that this is actually happening. Simon squeezes your hand. 
A steady trickle of rain begins to sprinkle down from the dark night sky, and goosebumps trail down your bare arms and legs. As soon as you tense, Simon is pulling his blazer off. 
“Simon, that's not necessary, really–” You begin to protest, but he is already wrapping the expensive jacket around your shoulders. 
“Hush.” He warns, and you obey. It's instinct. He’s your lieutenant after all.
You can see the tug of a smirk under his mask, blonde eyelashes fluttering as his brown orbs flick down over your body. You frown lightly, feeling bad that he’s given up his jacket for your sake. 
“Don’t worry, love. I'll be taking it all off soon, yeah?”
The alcohol buzzing through your system, making everything fuzzy, only intensifies the burning desire in between your legs. You don’t know how much longer you can wait. If you had it your way, he would have already taken you, bent you over the sink and had his way. The thought alone causes butterflies to fall in your stomach. Cold fingers wrap around Simon’s phone, still resting in the coat you’re now wearing. His recent notifications are all from Soap, and you scroll through them until a new one pops up on the screen.
“Car’s here.” You whisper, half lidded eyes searching until you find the sleek, black Volvo as it pulls against the curb. He takes your hand again, pulling you towards the car. 
“Simon, how long is this ride gonna be? I don’t know how much longer I can take this.” You admit, wanting nothing more than to tear your damn dress to shreds and throw yourself at the man beside you. He only huffs, showing a self restraint that you could only dream of. 
“Patience.” Is all he says as he opens the car door for you. You step inside the nice car, scooting towards the other side to make room for Simon to sit in the back with you. You see the momentary panic in the driver’s eyes as a 6’4 masked man climbs into his backseat, but Simon only places his hand on your thigh and politely confirms the details with the man. 
Simon grips your thigh, the large pads of his fingers leaving imprints on your soft flesh. You shake your ankle, distracting yourself from the desire growing in your abdomen.
“Drive fast, yeah?” Simon mumbles, sliding twenty quid to the driver.
The door lock clicks. Simon checks it twice. 
His hands are on you in an instant, picking you up by your thighs and pushing you up against the wall. He didn’t turn the lights on, and your eyes struggle to adjust to the dark as Simon’s lips run over your jaw in sloppy kisses. You moan, hands wrapping around his neck and resting on the back of his balaclava. 
“Simon, please–” You whine, throwing your head back as he nips your earlobe. 
“Just a second, darling.” Ghost growls, holding you against him. He carries you through the dark flat, maneuvering drunkenly down an even darker hall. He approaches a door, and kicks it open like a human battering ram. You’re slowing him down, your lips pressing against him everywhere that they can reach, leaving love bites that he’ll still have in the morning. You kick your heels off before he even sets you down, your hands tearing off the blazer from your limbs. It hits the ground, Simon’s phone buzzing silently in the pocket. He’ll find several missed calls from the boys in the morning. You don’t even want to think about the notifications your phone is receiving. Luckily, you dropped your purse as soon as you entered the front door, so it can be a problem for tomorrow. 
Simon gently tosses you down on his king sized bed, and you fall onto the plush black blankets. They’re warm and soft and they smell like him. It’s all too intoxicating. You lean forward and unclasp Simon’s belt buckle as quickly as your intoxicated hands can manage as he pulls his shirt over his head, not bothering to unbutton it. You’re taken aback as you notice a sizable scar on his ribs. It's a messy, deep, pink scar that indents into his otherwise pale skin. Your eyebrows wrinkle, fingertips brushing near the flesh before he snatches your hand away, squeezing it too tight to the point that it hurts.
“Don’t.” Is all he says. It’s a warning, and you blush a deep crimson out of embarrassment. 
“Sorry.” You mutter, quietly. Simon brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a slow kiss to your knuckles. 
Ghost leans forward, hand gripping the side of your neck as he kisses you again. His balaclava tickles your nose as you deepen the kiss, leaning more into him. Any embarrassment or awkwardness from your last interaction falls away as he pushes his jeans down over his legs, lips still interlocked with yours. Simon steps out of his jeans and boxers, and your jaw falls slack. 
“Simon–” You stutter, eyes fixated on the length between his legs. Your eyes flick back up to his face, seeing the proud smirk he wears, even through the mask.. He simply won’t fit. It’s just not possible– He’s too big.
“I can’t-” You shake your head.
“I’ll be gentle, love.” He reassures, climbing overtop of you on the bed. Nervously, you nod. You trust him. Big hands grab you by the waist and flip you onto your stomach. You whine, clutching the sheets below you. He shushes you, and you gasp as golden beads and zipper teeth fly across the room, bouncing off of the floor and the glass window overlooking the city. A loud tear rings out as Ghost shreds your dress from the seams.
“Fuck, Simon! That was expensive!” You yelp as he pulls the ruined fabric from your body, discarding it on the floor. Laswell’s gonna kill you.
“I’ll  buy you a new one.” He growls, warm hand running down your bare back. His finger loops under the black lace thong you’re wearing. Simon smirks, “All for me?” He asks, releasing the lace so it smacks back down onto your skin. 
“Yes– all for you, only you, Simon.” You mumble, pushing your ass back up in hopes that he’ll touch you.
“That’s my girl.” 
You moan at his words, hands moving to your hips to shove the lace down off your legs, but he brushes your hands away, stopping you.
“Leave it on.” Simon rumbles at your back. You nod your head against the pillow, bringing your hands to rest under your head. Ghost pulls your thong string to the side, letting it rest just out of the way.
“Fuckin ‘ell, love.” Simon takes a breath, trying to keep the control that you’re so close to snapping as his fingers trail over your dripping folds. 
“Fuck, Simon. Stop teasing.” You beg, hips pushing back against his hand. He chuckles, dipping two fingers into your throbbing cunt. 
“O-Oh!” You whine, gripping the sheets as he hooks his thick fingers, hitting every sweet spot inside of you. Simon kisses your back, nudging your legs with his less busy hand so that they’re folded under your stomach and spread apart. He positions you low enough that your stomach touches the bed. He curls his fingers, scissoring them occasionally as you throb and whine for him. He groans at the noises you make, working you open until you’re ready. 
“Perfect.” He grumbles, sliding his fingers out of you. You whine in confusion until you feel the tip of his length teasing at your entrance. 
“Ready, love?” Ghost asks. You moan, biting your lip and nodding your head. 
“I need to hear you say it.”
“Yes. Im ready, just– please Simon, fuck!” You stutter. 
Simon slowly pushes in, and you gasp for air as he parts you like the fucking red sea. It hurts a little, and your nose wrinkles as you exhale. Simon notices the hitch in your breath, carefully examining your reaction to make sure you’re comfortable. It only takes a few moments for you to acclimate, and then he feels incredible. His size stretches you, reaching depths you didn't think possible. He hits every sweet spot as he spears into you. 
Simon’s chest presses against your back as he pushes into you. His scarred lips lock onto your neck, biting you as he fucks you from behind. He grips the headboard to steady himself, nearly leaving indents in the wood as he thrusts.
It's rough, drunk and sloppy as he drills into you. He starts out at a slow and steady pace, grinding into you rhythmically so as to not hurt you. Your exhales become sharp huffs, swirling together with the puffs of air he exhales next to your ear. If only you could turn around and kiss him again. You crave his lips against yours, satisfying the craving you’ve been ignoring for so long. But you know Simon might not be ready for that level of intimacy yet. You’ve heard stories, connected the dots. 
All too soon, you find yourself teetering on the edge from his movements. You gasp and moan under him, whimpering out his name so loudly that you’re sure the entire building can hear. The headboard rocks against the wall with every thrust, loudly slamming and leaving dents in the drywall. Neither of you care, too wrapped up in each other to even realize. 
Your neck is bruised from Simon’s lips, adding to the pleasure that’s pushing you over the edge. You fight it, but lose as pulsing heat tears through your core. Stars explode in your vision, eyes shut tight enough that they wrinkle. 
“F-uck, Simon!” You scream, nails digging into the sheets as your whole body trembles with the weight of your orgasm. Your walls squeeze Simon’s length in time with his thrusts, turning him into a groaning mess. 
“Bloody fuckin ‘ell." Simon groans, accent thicker than usual. His warm breath tickles your ear, and you gasp as he bottoms out, hitting your cervix. 
“You- You on the pill?” Simon manages to stutter out between deep grunts. He can’t risk pregnancy, can’t be a father. But you feel so fucking good and he can’t bring himself to unbury himself from your perfect, dripping cunt. 
“Got the patch– you’re good. Just fucking fill me up, please.” You beg, rocking your hips against him. He nearly curses at your words. You have a foul mouth in bed, something he wouldn’t have guessed. You whimper his name, and that’s all it takes. 
Simon grunts deep and guttural, and with one an iron grip on your hips, he fills you up with his spend. You moan, taking it all until you can’t, and it comes dripping out around him before he’s even finished. 
“That’s it, fffuck– y/n.” He grunts as the last of his seed spills out.
You press your forehead against the sheets, wincing as he pulls out of you and collapses beside you on the bed. A sheen of sweat lines both your bodies, but as much as you’d like a shower, you’re exhausted. A digital clock rests on the table beside Simon’s bed, and you sit up, squinting to look at it. 0300. Damn. 
You look back towards Simon. He’s half sitting up against the headboard, half laying down. You notice the thousand yard stare that he’s putting off, and you gently cup his chin, pulling his gaze towards you. 
“You okay?” You ask, rolling up his balaclava with your dainty fingers. You uncover the subtle smile on his lips. You smile in retur, half lidded eyes focusing on the shape of his lips. Your thumb traces over them gently.
“Better now.” He whispers. You press a kiss to his lips, slow and sweet before pulling away. 
“Get some sleep, love.” He says, softer than you’ve ever heard his voice. Much to his surprise, you tuck yourself into the crook of his side, wrapping your arms around his torso. Sleep overcomes you almost immediately. He’s too warm, too perfect. It’d be impossible for you to stay awake next to the comforting, human heater that he is. 
Simon hesitates. It’s been a long time since anyone has been this close to him. The bourbon gave him confidence enough to bring you home, but this is a very new territory, and not even the alcohol can guide him through this one. Sex is one thing, but intimacy? Emotional vulnerability? Simon burned those handbooks long ago.
“Love?” He asks, awkwardly looking to see if you’re awake. You don’t respond, asleep he confirms. Simon’s not sure what to do. He doesn’t want to move you. Are you comfortable? Is he too close? Too warm? 
He sighs, looking down at your arms tightly wound around him. No one’s shown him this type of affection, not ever. He’s not sure how to reciprocate it, but he wants to. One day at a time. Simon pulls the blanket up over your waist, checking twice to make sure that it's covering you. Carefully, he places a hand over your back, feeling your soft skin against his. 
He doesn’t sleep at all, opting to stay awake and watch the small rise and fall of your back on his lap. He doesn’t deserve you, he's sure. But you’re here, and that’s something.
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g1rld1ary · 2 months
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you never disappointed me - part four
part one part two part three
➻ synopsis: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader ; you agree to go to the Apollo party with luke, and the night is in no way what you expect (10 things I about you AU)
➻ word count: 4070
➻ warnings: ooc/kind of loser!luke, ooc silena, she/her pronouns used for reader, sexual innuendos, alcohol, smoking/weed, swearing, kissing
➻ this took yonks oops - hope u enjoy!! (it's a bit longer than all the others though so don't say I don't love u xx)
TAGLIST: @myxticmoon @wicca-void @leeknows-wife @thekittyxo-blog @number-onekidqueen @instabull @slaybestieslay946 @sflame15-blog @yourfavmiki @ivory-sage @caramelandvenus @chasebeth
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The night of the party, you were having serious doubts. You were just glad you hadn’t told Silena that you were considering going at all as she was already practically feral over not being allowed to go. It was times like this that you wondered how things would be if the two of you were closer — helping each other break the rules and have a social life rather than keeping each other on your father’s short leash, ratting each other out at each opportunity.
“Can’t you just be normal?” Silena whined, brushing out her hair and gazing longingly at the outfit she’d picked out for the event, sitting sad and unworn.
“Define normal,” You replied, not sparing her a glance over your novel. This was a well-rehearsed dance by now, and you both knew the steps by heart.
“The Apollo party is normal — leaving your bed for one Friday night is normal!” She cried, pulling far too roughly at her hair in frustration.
“That party is just an excuse for all the idiots here to drink smuggled alcohol and grind up against each other in futile hopes of distracting themselves from the pathetic emptiness of their—”
“Meaningless, consumer-driven lives.” Half the cabin joined Silena in her chorus and you stopped short. You didn’t know whether to be proud of your brand or offended that you’d become so predictable. Silena approached you, speaking quieter so that she was talking just to you and not the show that you usually put on for the rest of the cabin.
“C’mon, please? Just for one night, do this one thing for me? Please.” You hesitated. Silena looked unexpectedly sincere and you realised that the party really meant a lot to her. And, despite your best efforts, you thought of Luke. You thought of his pretty eyes and his dumb smile and his insistence on getting you to this party, and your resolve started to crack. One party couldn’t be that bad, right? It’s not like you were leaving camp, worst case it was always an easy trip back to your cabin. You inhaled deeply, sending your mom a silent prayer.
“I guess I can make an appearance.” The whole cabin erupted in cheers and disbelief. You hadn’t been to a Camp Half-Blood party since your very first one when you were fourteen years old, and not one of your siblings knew why. Silena especially was ecstatic, jumping about and pulling you into a tight hug. You didn’t know how to respond, the gesture of affection foreign between the two of you, but reluctantly wrapped your arms around her.
“Alright,” You ended the moment, “Let’s just go before I back out.” You stopped for a quick second in front of your own vanity, ensuring nothing was seriously wrong with your outfit before bidding the younger campers goodbye and opening the door.
And there, standing nervously in what might’ve been his nicest shirt, was Luke.
“What are you doing here?” You rushed out before you could properly process what was happening. You’d forgotten all about his promise to pick you up, and now the whole cabin would be eavesdropping.
“Nine-thirty, right? Ah,” He glanced at an imaginary watch, “I’m early.” You might’ve laughed a little if you weren’t so mortified at your siblings spying on you.
“Whatever. Let’s just go.” You pulled him along with you, unaware of his eyes glued to the place where your skin touched his. He tried to make conversation with you, willing both of you to return to the dynamic you had after the concert a few days prior, but your embarrassment had shut down any good humour you might’ve possessed. Already dreading the party again, you could feel yourself curling into yourself, but were powerless to stop it.
You were immediately reminded as to why you hated these parties, people you didn’t like only heightened by the substances floating around. It was held in one of the abandoned bunkers littered through the woods, only adding to the claustrophobic feeling with its dark walls and low ceilings. Plus, you were sure the few winding tunnels leading to other rooms would be hell to navigate when drunk.
You knew it was rude, but you lost Luke quickly. You were already uncomfortable enough here and had resigned to sticking out the night for Silena only, you really didn’t want Luke clinging to you all night and trying to ‘get some’ — or whatever his goal for your supposed date was. Your solitude didn’t last long though, as you rounded a corner to smack into Ethan. You scowled, trying to push past him, but he seemed determined to chat.
“Looking hot, Beauregard. You should get out of those camp shirts more often.” Your frown only deepened, hand itching to slap the shit out of him.
“Hey, wait — did your hairline just recede?” You almost laughed at the way his hand flew to his hair; Ethan White was undoubtedly more vain than any of the Aphrodite kids. You ducked around him, desperate to be anywhere else.
“Where are you going?” He called after you, shoving a younger camper out of the way.
“Away.”
“Your sister here?” You froze up, turning slowly towards the disgusting boy.
“Stay away from my sister,” You threatened, your meanest look painted across your face. Ethan only smirked, and it made you hate him more.
“Oh I’ll stay away from your sister, but I can’t guarantee she’ll stay away from me.” Your hand was raising to slap him down when one of his friends pulled him away to go spectate a fight. You supposed you were somewhat glad, Silena would definitely hate you if you hit him at a party, and the Apollo kids would definitely all be too hammered to treat any busted knuckles.
You’d hidden away with Clarisse for half an hour, a much needed respite from the torture that was all around you. You passed a blunt between you, giggling and gossiping, Luke’s name coming up more than once. You weren’t sure what to think of him, but you did know your social battery was absolutely dying, and you really weren’t in the mood to be there anymore. Your chat with Clarisse only ended when Chris approached her, asking for a dance. She looked to you for confirmation that it was ok and you waved her off, very much on board for whatever was blossoming between them. You wouldn’t say you liked Chris — you barely liked anyone — but of the campers around your age, he was on the better end of a terrible spectrum.
As you watched her go, a much more unfortunate sight caught your attention. Silena hanging off Ethan’s arm, one intention clearly in mind. You and Beckendorf appeared as parallels on opposite sides of the room, both wearing dismayed expressions, hearts sinking.
“Look who found me,” Ethan turned to you, cocky grin lighting a fire in your chest. He turned to go, pulling Silena with him, but you found your voice just in time.
“Silena, wait!” Your sister turned quickly, disgust evident.
“Can you not address me here?” She snapped and you were taken aback for a second.
“No, wait. There’s something I need to tell you,” You tried, but she was wholly unaffected.
“Look, I am busy enjoying my adolescence, so scamper off and do the same.”
“Bye bye,” Ethan added, and you really wondered how he was beat up so rarely.
You felt your heart sink, genuine worry for your little sister overtaking the annoyance that Ethan so often caused. You thought she would have at least heard you out when you were actually worried for her, but Silena never failed to disappoint you. Ok, maybe that was a bit mean. That didn’t stop you from wallowing in your own feelings and grabbing a shot from some guy who was handing them out.
“Right on, sister!” Travis Stoll exclaimed, cowering only slightly when you shot him a glare, downing the liquor as quickly as you could stomach.
“Hey, what’s this?” Luke came out of nowhere, putting one of the shot glasses you’d picked up back in Travis’ hands. “I’ve been looking all over the place for you.” You rolled your eyes, alcohol only fuelling your irritation.
“I’m getting trashed, man,” You mocked, “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do at a party?”
“I dunno. I say do what you wanna do,” Luke said, and it took everything in you to keep your resolve. Maybe getting crossfaded wasn’t such a smart idea.
“You’re the only one. Later,” You grumbled, pushing away from him while you still had your self-restraint. You just wanted this whole night to be over.
In the same moments, Beckendorf had just seen Silena without Ethan for the first time in a while, and hurried to talk to her.
“Hi, Silena,” He raised his voice to get her attention over the music.
“Oh, hi Beckendorf,” She seemed to be a million miles away, hardly listening to him, “Uh, you know Drew?”
“Um, yeah, I think we had Greek together once?”
“Great.” Drew looked supremely unimpressed. Beckendorf persisted.
“So, Silena, you really look amazing.” The compliment fell a bit flat when Drew raised an eyebrow and Silena looked like she’d rather be anywhere else. Ethan, having heard Beckendorf’s sad attempts, joined the conversation.
“We all know I look amazing,” He said, and Beckendorf didn’t know why both the girls giggled like it was in any way funny.
“C’mon, Silena. We’re all playing beer pong.” Silena finally spared Beckendorf a glance.
“I’ll see you around, okay?” She said, and Beckendorf managed a pathetic nod. As they retreated, Ethan couldn’t help but throw a cocky thumbs up his way, and Beckendorf felt his shoulders sag. After an awkward moment of silence between him and Drew even she left, and he was alone in the middle of the party.
You were similarly alone, having escaped Luke for some time, using the respite to get significantly drunker. You didn’t know exactly why, you’d never been one to get blackout for the sake of it. Maybe you were sick of being there, maybe you didn’t want to face all the emotions bubbling dangerously close to the surface. Maybe, as Silena would say, you were finally becoming ‘normal’. Regardless, you were hardly aware of what was going on anymore, finally feeling like the party wasn’t total dogshit. At least until Luke grabbed another shot out of your hand. What was with that?
“Why don’t you let me have this one, huh?” He asked, bringing it up to his own lips. You intercepted, downing it before he could stop you.
“No! That one was mine,” You whined impetuously. If you were aware of your actions you would have been horrified, you almost sounded like Silena. Luke, despite his worry, almost laughed. That was, until you started taking off, again. He really didn’t anticipate you to be a wandering drunk. Luke trailed after you into another room until Ethan stopped him in the doorway, looking delighted.
“My man! How’d you get her to do it?” He asked, a vaguely misogynistic air about him.
“Do what?” Luke replied, worried for the response.
“Act like a human.” They both turned to search for you, finding you somehow on top of a table, dancing in a way that was all hips and hair. Neither could deny it was pretty hot.
You’d already attracted a crowd, half interested in your sudden change of demeanour, the other half just appreciative of an opportunity to ogle a pretty girl’s body. Ethan was a member of both groups, yelling and whooping as you grinded against nothing, Aphrodite allure keeping all eyes on you. Luke rushed over to you, knowing if he sat by and watched as you did this while out of your right mind you would never forgive him.
Intending to just coax you down Luke ended up in a serendipitous moment of being in the right place at the right time, easily catching you when you toppled over, unbalanced from knocking your head on a light hanging from the ceiling. You landed squarely in his strong arms, looking up at him in a daze.
“Are you okay?” You heard him say, though he sounded much further away than he was.
“I’m fine,” You grumbled, trying to hop up but stumbling embarrassingly back into him. Luke took it in stride, carrying you bridal style until you were out of the bulk of the crowd. Setting you down gently he kept a hand securely around your waist, leading you through the bunker out a hallway.
“I just need to lie down somewhere,” You mumbled, clutching at your pounding head.
“Absolutely not. You lie down and you’ll go to sleep.” You smiled dreamily, something that Luke returned involuntarily.
“Sleep is good.” He barked out a laugh.
“Not if you have a concussion.”
You both paused in the middle of a hallway so you could sit at a chair conveniently placed as Luke searched for a glass of water. Instead he found Beckendorf. After several unsuccessful attempts to shoo him away, Luke gave up and let him talk.
“It’s off, okay? The whole thing’s off.”
“What are you talking about?” Luke asked, sparing a glance at you; obliviously playing with a strand of hair.
“She never wanted me. She wanted Ethan the whole time.” Luke resisted the urge to roll his eyes — he really, truly, did not care.
“Charles,” He said, “Do you like this girl?”
“Yeah,” Beckendorf sighed. Luke tapped his foot.
“Right. And is she worth all this trouble?”
“I thought she was. But, well—” Luke cut him off, truly frustrated with the inexperienced boy.
“Look, she is or she isn’t. First of all, Ethan isn’t half the man you are. Secondly, don’t let anyone ever make you feel like you don’t deserve what you want. Just go for it.” Luke lunged to catch you when you tipped out of the chair, a signal clear to even Beckendorf that the conversation was over. He spared the younger boy a smile before leading you away gently, murmuring promises of fresh air and feeling better. Beckendorf didn’t know what to do with Luke’s advice, but at least he wasn’t so mopey anymore.
You’d come out of your dream state back to being a little more sentient by the time you got outside, your personality returning.
“You’re so patronising,” You groaned, eyeing Luke’s hand supporting the majority of your weight.
“Leave it to you to use big words when you’re smashed,” Luke laughed slightly, removing his arms when you tried to shove them off, and snorting quietly when you tripped onto the grass.
“Why are you doing this?” You didn’t dare look at him.
“I told you, you might have a concussion. I might not be an Apollo kid, but I’ve had enough to know how to handle them.”
“You don’t care if I never wake up,” You laughed humourlessly, pushing your hair out of your face in a manner similar to that of a toddler. Luke grinned, eyes sparkling even in the dark outside.
“Sure I do.” You gave him a questioning look and he led you to a selection of flat-ish tree stumps around a clearing. “I’d have to start taking out girls who actually like me,” He explained and it was your turn to snort.
“Like you could find one.”
“See that, there? Who needs affection when I have blind hatred?” You laughed despite yourself, missing the way Luke lit up at the reaction. He helped you onto the seat, taking the one next to you. You looked over at him, unaware that the smile you thought was internal was clear as day on your face. Luke admired it, revelling in the fact that he was probably one of very few at camp who had ever seen it.
You two sat quietly for a while, making meaningless conversation — Luke told you stories you missed from the party and you regretted getting too drunk to see it all yourself.
“So why’d you let him get to you?” He asked eventually, and you cocked your head to the side.
“Who?”
“Ethan.” You groaned.
“I hate him.”
“Well you’ve chosen the perfect revenge; mainlining tequila.” You both laughed at that, and you hazily noted how good it felt to laugh with him.
“Well, you know what they say…” You joked, but Luke didn’t catch on.
“No, what do they say?” He asked with childlike innocence, but in an instant you’d slipped into sleep, comforted by the perfect summer night weather. Luke was up in a second, crouching in front of you, holding your face in both hands and frantically trying to wake you. If you’d been awake, you might’ve noted how intimate it felt. You only woke when he slapped you — lightly, but effective enough.
Gazing up at him through your lashes, you had something of an epiphany. You liked Luke. You didn’t know how you didn’t notice it before, or really how it had happened at all, but seeing him standing inches from you really brought things to light. You opened your mouth to illustrate this point, still not quite sober enough to have those reservations, but instead all that came out was “Your eyes have a little green in them.”
Luke’s face twisted from confusion to relief, lips perking up into a smile. You held eye contact for an extended moment, a foreign tension building between you both (as opposed to the old, comfortable tension you’d gotten used to when hating him). Then you threw up all over his shoes. You at least had the decency to be embarrassed about it, and Luke had the decency not to mention it, instead pulling you up to prepare for the journey of a walk back to your cabin.
Ethan had meanwhile cozied himself up between Silena and Drew, a hand over each girl’s shoulders.
“Some of us are staying out longer, going for a special swim in the lake. You in?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Silena looked up at him warily.
“My sister’ll freak if I’m not back in twenty,” She said. A lie, kind of. She didn’t actually think you were in any position to be worried about her at that moment.
“I don’t have to be back…” Drew nominated herself, cuddling in closer to Ethan’s side. He still persisted with Silena.
“One more chance…” He tried his best to be at his most attractive, but Silena was more than over the whole night.
“Oh, man. I can’t. Damn.” It was hardly believable, but Drew had decided that she wanted Ethan then, and she got what she wanted.
“That’s a shame.” She produced a saccharine smile. “Well?” Ethan held out an arm for her to take, and the two were already getting handsy on their trip down to the lake. Silena dreaded to think about the things that would be done there in the coming hours.
“Have fun tonight?” A voice asked from behind her. Beckendorf sounded accusatory, and honestly Silena couldn’t even blame him.
“Tons,” She lied, wrapping her arms around herself. He stalked past her and Silena was about to leave him be when she was struck by a realisation.
“Charles?” She called, and Beckendorf dutifully turned to face her despite his obvious angst. “Do you think you could walk me back? I don’t have a weapon and the forest really freaks me out.” Silena fully expected him to refuse, and wouldn’t have blamed him for it in the slightest, but moments later they were walking side by side along the dark path.
There was tense silence between them for a while before Beckendorf finally gathered the courage to break it.
“You never wanted to go out with me, did you?” He asked, and the earnest directness of the question shocked her.
“Yes I did,” Silena lied, trying to be nice.
“No you didn’t,” He refuted bluntly.
“Well, okay, not actually—”
“Then that’s all you had to say!” He cried, and she really did feel badly about upsetting him. “Have you always been this selfish?” He could barely hear her whispered “Yes.”
“Just because you’re beautiful, doesn’t mean you can treat people like they don’t matter. I mean, I really like you, okay? I defended you when people called you conceited, I helped you when you asked me to. I learnt how to weld for you! And then you blow me off for—”
Without thinking, Silena grabbed his face in her hands, pressing a kiss to his lips. It was innocent, sitting on his lips for a few seconds before pulling away, both teenagers sporting matching blushes. Silena gave him a quick smile before hopping up the steps and safely into the Aphrodite cabin. Beckendorf managed to wait until he was safely alone to celebrate, a dorky little dance and an excited fist pump.
Your night didn’t follow quite the same trajectory. You’d been walking with Luke for what felt like hours, your tired brain and feet unwilling to finish the journey. However, it was the same easy conversation that you’d started to enjoy with Luke more often.
“I should start a band, I always wanted to — my father would love that.” You’d approached the cabins from the back, and the two of you had stopped near the rear wall, still hidden away out of sight and earshot.
“You don’t strike me as the type to ask your father for permission,” He said, leaning against the wood panelled wall.
“Oh, so now you think you know me?” You raised an eyebrow, standing opposite to him with your back to the woods.
“I’m getting there,” He replied, and his earnestness caught you off guard. You talked through your nerves.
“The only thing people know about me is that I’m ‘scary’.”
“Yeah, well, I’m no picnic either.” The tension crept back again as you looked at each other, but Luke pushed through it. “So, what’s with your dad? Pain in the ass?”
“No,” You conceded, “He just wants me to be someone I’m not.”
“Who?”
“Silena.” You couldn’t help the edge of bitterness that infiltrated your voice, and Luke suddenly understood a lot more about you.
“No offence or anything, I mean, I know everyone’s obsessed with your sister. But… she’s not all that.” You stared at him, unable to withhold the small smile that had crept onto your lips. No one had ever said that before.
“You know, you’re not as vile as I thought you were.” You leaned in, eyes fluttering closed. You could feel Luke’s hot breath mixing with yours, and another fraction of an inch and you’d be…
Luke’s hands were on your shoulders suddenly, softly moving the two of you apart.
“Maybe we should do this another time,” He said. Your eyes opened with a start, and you could feel red hot blush unfurling up your neck and onto your cheeks. In an instant your hardened expression was back more than ever, and you stomped past him up to your cabin, humiliation churning in your stomach, replacing any alcohol that might’ve lingered as you suddenly felt stone cold sober.
Luckily Silena and your younger siblings were all asleep by the time you returned, and the older ones were all off doing who-knows-what, so you effectively had the cabin to yourself. When you lay down in your bunk, makeup still on and shoes barely kicked off, you sobbed. You cried like you hadn’t in a long time, feeling stupid and ridiculous and hardly like a daughter of Aphrodite. You could only imagine what your mother would think of the mortifying display, and cried even harder.
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hxney-lemcn · 4 months
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The Riddle of Love — Gotham! Edward Nygma x gn! reader
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summery: Edward's interest shifts to someone who indulges in his love of riddles.
tw: bullying (?), kristen kringle is a warning all her own in this fic, implied rejection (not really tho, Ed's just awkward).
a/n: I hope so much that I wrote all these characters correctly. I have riddler fever rn and really wanted to write for him, but I've always been scared that I'd write him too ooc. I think I did good tho.
wc: 3.1k
Master List
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“What is it that no one wants to have, but no one wants to lose either?” I asked. I already knew it was a lost cause. Edward Nygma was the smartest man I had ever met. Dorky? Yes. Nerdy? Absolutely. Smart? Incredibly. So trying to impress him at his own game wasn’t exactly the smartest move. Yet, the first time I gave him a riddle to solve (which he solved ridiculously fast), I don’t think I’d ever seen him so happy. So I continued to scour the internet in my free time to try and find obscure riddles. 
Although this riddle wasn’t that obscure. I was running out of riddles to find, and I sure as hell couldn’t make my own. 
“A lawsuit,” Eddie replied without missing a beat, still focusing on testing blood samples. 
I couldn’t stop the pout that formed on my face, “It’s not fair how smart you are.”
I didn’t see Ed’s lips twitch up, how the praise I didn’t think twice about saying impacted him more than he’d like to admit. It was quiet for a few minutes, and I looked back down to the papers I had brought with me. Sometimes, I found myself working in the forensic lab when I could. One of the perks of being a criminal data analyst. I could make my notes on paper, and then just copy them into the computer later. 
Since I was a data analyst, I was in the record archives often. I was acquainted with Kristen Kringle, which obviously led me to Edward Nygma. She would complain about him if I came in after he had left. At that point I didn’t know him, but I also found her complaints unfounded. I’d let her vent, but I’d also speak up for him, which made her glance away in what I assume was guilt. Then there were the unfortunate times that I’d walk in on his awkward flirting. I’d just tensely put away or take the files I needed for my research and leave them to it. 
But after enough times, I’d caught him in the middle of one of his riddles. An easy one, probably to dumb it down for Kringle so she’d be enticed to answer it in the first place. Yet he had caught the attention of the wrong person. Although that didn’t seem to put a damper on his mood. He only sent me a tight lipped smile with a little ‘ding ding ding!’. That’s how I was caught hook line and sinker. His mannerisms were oddly endearing to me, and that’s how our odd little friendship formed. 
I was brought out of my reverie as Eddie shuffled over to his microscope, “I am a nine lettered word and rhyme with perfection; I am another name for love. What am I?”
I blinked, not ready for a riddle, even though I always should be in the presence of him. I looked up from my work, and I noticed how Eddie was sweating, his cheeks flushing a bright red. I tapped the metal table anxiously, the word love had thrown me off my game and my brain felt empty of anything else. I mumbled words under my breath that rhyme with perfection. 
“Deception, reception, perception,” I mumbled, yet none of them fit the rest of the rhyme. The longer I took, the more anxious Eddie seemed to get. “Affection. Oh! The answer is affection!”
Ed cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses, “Y-yes, that is correct. G-good job.” My proud smile fell into a more awkward one, thinking over the implications. That riddle sounded like one he’d save for Kringle. Was he running out of riddles as well? The thought alone was preposterous. It was tense for a bit. And when I realized I had nothing left to do but input the current data I had on some wanna be gang leader. The sad part is I knew that the cops aren’t going to be the first ones who get them. 
Even though I needed to leave, it felt wrong for some reason. To leave the situation after Edward had seemed to admit something in his unique way of sharing. I didn’t want to assume his feelings, yet I knew he also wasn’t one to just state them willingly. Biting my lip anxiously, I decided to just do it. 
Walking over towards Ed’s hunched form, I leaned down to place a light kiss to his cheek, “I’ll see ya later Eddie.” Then I booked it out of the room, leaving behind a very flustered dork. 
It wasn’t much later in the day when Doctor Lee Thompson entered my office. It wasn’t much of an office. The dark walls made the space feel enclosed, and it barely fit my desk and the few cabinets it held. Yet I didn’t mind it since it was a space for myself. Lee, on the other hand, was another acquaintance whose office was nowhere near mine. She’d only come to my office for a few reasons, if it was work related (which was rare since our departments weren’t similar), or if it was personal. Sometimes she fessed that it seemed I needed some company, that it would do me no good to spend all this time alone in my office. Other times…it was on a more personal note, about Eddie and I’s relationship. 
She plopped a candy bar on my desk, a placating move that was all too familiar.
“You must’ve done a real number on Ed,” She smirked, sitting on my desk. Due to the tiny size of the room, and the nature of my job, I didn’t have a seat for guests. 
“What do you mean?” I asked. Deep down, I knew exactly what she meant. I knew Edward was an awkward man, and his experience with flirting was an ultimate zero. Yet it was hard to imagine that he was still affected by a small gesture of affection… Okay maybe the gesture wasn’t that small, for either of us, but still! 
Lee’s smirk widened, “I think you know exactly what. Poor little Ed kept stumbling over his words when I brought you up. Something must’ve happened.”
I unwrapped the candy bar as she spoke, wanting to avoid any thought of the earlier moment. Looking back it was so awkward and a terrible attempt at…what? Flirting? Was that my intention? I didn’t even know my own intentions! 
I took a bite from the candy bar, savoring the sweet flavor before having to explain the painfully awkward memory. When I managed to explain the event, Lee couldn’t stop herself from chuckling, causing me to finish my candy bar with a bitter look. 
“That sounds like something you’d both do,” She smiled.
“What’s that supposed to mean,” I huffed, trying to fight off the flush of embarrassment I felt. 
“Nothing,” She sighed wistfully. “But you two really take your time, huh?” 
“Shut up,” I scowled. 
“Okay, okay,” She threw her hands up in mock surrender. “I’ll stop teasing…for now. But seriously, I think you two would be cute together.”
I let out a childish groan, “I get it. Is there anything else you need?” 
“No,” She smiled as she stood up. “Just wanted to see what had Ed all wound up.”
I rolled my eyes, but my heart skipped a beat at the implication. As Lee saw herself out, my mind kept racing. What was Ed doing right now? What was he thinking about? Did he really care enough about my opinion, about my affection, that he was still affected by it? I stared at my computer screen, the cursor blinking mindlessly. Glancing at the time, I scowled as I realized I still had 30 minutes left to my shift. The idea of going home, having a relaxing dinner and then maybe treating myself to a warm bath. 
That was only the beginning. It seems that Eddie’s admiration had shifted from Kristin Kringle to me. It was flattering, to say the least. At least to me. Once I gained Ed’s attention, I seemed to have gained his colleagues attention as well. Typically, I didn’t work with the officers, I’d research criminals, then that data would be added to the files. So when I walked past James Gordon and Harvey Bullock, I never thought twice. But when Ed had waved at me, that cute tight lipped smile on his face as I waved back, a smile of my own adorning my face, it drew the attention of the two detectives. 
"Careful Ed,” Harvey mocked. “Don’t wanna scare them off.” Jim only glanced up briefly, not interested in the situation in the least. I watched as Ed’s smile twitched for a second, Harvey’s words seeming to get to him. I felt my smile slip, not liking how they treat him in the slightest.
“He…didn’t do anything wrong,” I shrugged, before waving goodbye, making my way to the record archives. Not only them, but even Kringle was looking at me more than just as a person to vent to. 
“I feel sorry for you,” She stated, adjusting her thick rimmed glasses. Her hazel eyes held their usual air of judgment as she placed some files back in their spots. 
“Why?” I asked, flipping through to find the person I needed. 
“Isn’t it obvious?” She asked, raising one of her perfectly maintained eyebrows. “Edward’s got his eyes on another victim.” I frowned, anger bubbling within me at the way she always found new ways to insult him. 
“I wouldn’t describe it like that,” I managed to grit out. “I find the sentiment sweet.”
“Wait,” Kringle paused, turning to look at me with disbelief. “Do you…like him?”
I sighed, finding it hard to focus on the task at hand with this irritating conversation, “Would there be something wrong with that?”
“Isn’t it kind of weird how fast he switched?” She asked, a hint of jealousy in her tone. “I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before he loses interest in you.”
I slammed the cabinet shut in a bout of rage, leaving the room before I do something I may regret…or lose my job over. As I exited, my scowl worsened when I realized I didn’t even get what I needed. 
“Hello!” Edward’s excited voice greeted me as I entered the break room. When my gaze landed on him, I felt my expression soften, my shoulder’s relaxing. His brown eyes were so expressive, that silly smile on his face never failed to melt my heart. 
“Hey,” I muttered back. Looking over the options in the vending machine. Just get something to eat, and hopefully I’ll feel better. 
“Is…something the matter?” He asked, fidgeting with his glasses. I let out a long sigh as I sat across from him at one of the few tables. 
Taking a bite of my snack, I took some time to gather my thoughts and feelings, “Sometimes I just hate people.”
His eyebrows raised, nervously fidgeting with his tie, “Th-that’s…understandable.”
“Sorry,” I muttered, finally cooling down. “Someone was just saying some really mean things and it got to me.”
Edwards’ demeanor changed in an instant, a frown replacing his smile, and his eyebrows furrowed in a mixture of concern and anger, “Who?”
I blinked, “What?”
“Who insulted you?” He asked, fists clenched. This wasn’t what I was expecting. He would get annoyed, yeah, but he’d always just stew in it until he calmed down. And he was barely angry when I was around, which was something I was proud of. So seeing him react so harshly was unusual. It made me feel a bit appreciated, that he cared enough to get this angry over it, yet it was also unsettling.
“They…they were insulting you,” I clarified, rubbing my arm awkwardly. “And trust me, I was ready to do some things that would’ve gotten me fired.”
Ed blinked, calming down drastically at the revelation, “Oh.” 
“Yeah,” I shrugged. “I swear if she says one more damned thing about you I’m gonna…” I strangled the air, the only way I could express how frustrated her insults made me.
Edward fake coughed, his cheeks tinged a light pink, “I assume you mean Miss Kringle.”
I paused, hoping it didn’t hurt that his past interest was still as rude as ever. “I didn’t even manage to get the files I needed,” I grumbled, hoping to lighten the mood a bit.
“...I can get them for you,” I felt my heart crack. Was he still interested in her? Was that why he was so ready to go into the den of the woman who so readily insults him? 
“Oh, no you don’t have to do that,” I shook my head. “I’ll just have Lee do it.”
Ed blinked, seeming to think over something before standing up, “I’ll be right back.” Before he was fully out the door he paused, “Whose case files did you need?”
I couldn’t help the tiny grin at how eager he was as I gave him the names of the people I needed files on. Yet that smile fell. Was he really so excited to get a chance to see Kringle that he almost left without knowing what files he needed? I finished my snack, getting a drink from the vending machine while I was at it. My mind continued to make up terrible scenarios that could be happening at that moment. How she could manage to crush Ed’s precious heart even more than she’s already managed to.
Ed was back quicker than I realized. It took him less than ten minutes! He set the files I needed on the table, that tight lipped grin on his face as he waited for my input.
“Oh! Thank you!” I thanked, flipping through the files to make sure they were all there. “She didn’t give you any trouble, did she?”
“No,” He replied simply. As I met his gaze, that’s when I finally realized that he was truly over Kringle. I should’ve felt disturbed at how intense his gaze was, at how strong his emotions seemed to be when he wasn’t even trying. Yet I only felt flattered, important, and wanted. Emotions I wasn’t completely used to, and caused my heart to stutter at how strong my own emotions were becoming. 
Standing up, I leaned in and kissed his cheek again, this time a bit more confident then the last time I did. I waved goodbye as I walked out with the files he gave me. I felt pride swell within me as I watched Eddie become a flustered mess as I left. It was a good mood lifter as I watched him fumble with his usual nervous ticks, before he was finally out of my sight. 
Edward’s courting tactics only seemed to grow after that. I wasn’t sure what changed him to do so. I could only speculate that Lee had something to do with it. She kept stopping by my office, asking how Ed and I were doing like she hadn’t just seen us the day before. I can’t lie, I was reveling in the attention that Ed was giving me, and I could tell he’d revel in my attention as well. A mutual pining on both sides. 
Normally, I’d be okay with that. Too scared to try and push things forward. Edward Nygma was different. He was just so…amazing. I’ve never felt so strongly towards someone. He was sweet, attentive, smart, and overall lovely. I couldn’t just settle for pining, I wanted to experience what it would be like as his lover. 
Which led me to this horrendous mess up of a confession.
I dressed up a bit nicer than usual, hoping to impress the cute dork. I felt confident in myself, an emotion I don’t feel regularly. I greeted Lee, who seemed like she guessed the occasion and sent me a wink when I walked past. 
“Hey Eddie,” I greeted, setting a cup of coffee down on the counter.
“Oh! Hello,” He greeted me, smiling. “You seem chipper this morning.”
Nudging the coffee towards him I smiled back, “It’s a good day today. I got you a coffee.”
“You didn’t need to,” Ed replied sheepishly, not used to people giving him things. 
I only shrugged, “I wanted to.” I tapped the counter I was leaning on as nerves started to slowly creep through me. So, before my anxiety could get the best of me, I blurted out, “What is mine but only you can have?”
With furrowed eyebrows, Ed actually paused to answer a riddle for the first time during this little game we had. His eyes flitted around the room, like he was trying to avoid the answer. I know he was smart enough to figure it out, so the fact he was taking so long to answer caused my heart rate to spike from anxiety. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe I was reading the room wrong. I blame Lee for feeding me a wrong understanding. 
“I…uh…” Ed stuttered over his words, sweat dripping down the side of his face. Shit, shit, shit! I shouldn’t have said that. He does know the answer, I found it online easily, he obviously knows. He doesn’t feel the same and now he’s trying to find a way to politely reject me. 
“Nevermind!” I exclaimed, trying to quell my nerves by getting the fuck out of here. “Stupid riddle! Never needs an answer. I should get to work.”
“W-wait!” Eddie called out, making me stop in my tracks. So close yet so far. “I can be a fruit, I can be on a calendar, I can be important, and I can be forgotten. What am I?”
Turning back around, I watched as Eddie picked at his nails. We both seemed like complete messes at the moment. It was hard for me to think of anything due to my previous failure of admitting my feelings. I bit my lip awkwardly, trying to stop myself from making any more of a fool of myself.
“I…I’m not sure Eddie,” I chuckled solemnly.
Clearing his throat, he adjusted his glasses before admitting, “A date. W-would you accompany me on one?” I stared at him with wide eyes, unsure if I heard him correctly.
“Y-yeah! Of course I will!” That tinge of embarrassment was quickly overpowered by exhilaration. The smile that stretched across my face almost hurt with how big it was. Eddie’s smile was also wide as he still couldn’t meet my eyes.
“Is…is tonight okay? Dinner? 7 o’clock?”
“That sounds perfect.” 
And to make the moment better, I kissed his cheek before parting, excited for what the night held for us.
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I thought we were over
For my dearest twin, @h3apm3ch4n151m :)
Warning(s): implied murder, yandere/stalker ex reader!! That's right, it's not a yandere character this time, it's you.
Also, Floyd is a teensy bit OOC for this, but there is a reason for it, so please bear with me.
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...three years, four months, seven days, two hours, thirty minutes, five seconds ago.
That's when Floyd broke up with you.
You don't know why. You can't possibly understand why. You were perfect for him, you still are!
Let's count the reasons you're perfect for him, shall we?
You love him (obviously!!)
You're able to tolerate his... behaviors.
You help him appear less threatening.
You helped him get his grades to be more consistent.
You helped him with those pesky mood swings.
You love him (again)
You love him (one more time, just to emphasize)
You love him.
You love him, and yet... he abandoned you.
He said you weren't worth his time anymore. He said you were... bad for him.
And just like that, after the two of you being together for so long... he just broke up with you.
...three years, four months, seven days, two hours, thirty-one minutes, ten seconds ago.
You've been keeping track of him ever since.
You just want to make sure he's doing alright, that's all, nothing more!
Recently... he's been... seeing someone.
It makes you sick to even think of him being with someone other than you... especially when they're nowhere near as perfect for him as you were.
They'll just end up hurting him in the end.
Unlike you, his perfect partner.
...the audacity of him. Saying you're "bad for him", what does that even mean? All you ever did was help him and love him to the FULLEST extent. You were around him all the time, you really got to know him and his issues... and you helped him.
How did you help him? That's easy. You simply told him not to speak without your permission- unless of course he was speaking to you... and he listened like the good little boy he is... because he loves you. Even if he's with someone else now, you know deep down he still loves you... and he always will, because you're perfect for him.
You're the perfect match for him and you always will be. Hell, you even chose to never return to your home, because you loved him just that much. Doesn't that show how eternally devoted you are to him? How much you love him?
Why can't he see that?
...
No matter.
He will, soon.
He'll realize soon, that the two of you are meant to be together, forever and always.
All you need to do is pull a few little strings... a few things to set him off like always... and just like that, his new partner will see the ugly side of him. Yelling and fighting... screaming and crying... a storm of emotions nobody in their right mind would want to stay with... nobody except you, of course, because you taught him how to behave himself.
Wait... why haven't they broken up yet...?
That person he's with, did they not fully comprehend what was happening? Do they think that's okay?
Ugh. Regardless of why this new partner of his isn't getting themselves the hell out of that relationship they aren't supposed to be in, the point still stands that you must now take desperate measures. It's the only option!
And that's why you are where you are right now... standing at his back door, covered in blood.
"Shrimpy-?! What are you doing here, why are you covered in blood-?!" He's uncharacteristically freaked out... ah, adorable as always.
"Take me back. You know we're perfect for each other." You tell him the truth. You're the only person good enough for him.
"We broke up three years ago-"
"Three years, four months, nine days, five hours, seven minutes, two seconds ago."
"...creep." He looks... disgusted. "You still haven't told me why you're covered in blood."
"I got rid of what was in the way, that's all."
He seems to get the hint.
"Get the hell off my property and never show your face to me again, Shrimpy."
"You're still calling me that nickname... doesn't that mean, in some way, you still love me-?"
"No, I do that for everyone. It means nothing, and you're delusional to think it ever did."
"But I know there's another name you used to call me, remember? The one I taught you about... the special nickname, just for me..." You laugh to yourself. "I heard you still call me that."
"I-!" He seems a bit freaked out. "That... that doesn't mean anything..." He's always so careful around you, because he knows what you'll do if he isn't... it's cute how scared he is of you, a human.
"Admit it: you still love me, like how I still love you."
"No, I'm not goi-"
"Say it now or you know what will happen."
"...okay... fine... maybe..."
"No, I want to hear you say the words exactly."
He hesitates for a moment.
"...I... still love you, Shrimpy."
"And?"
"And... I'll take you back, and we can... be together... forever."
"That's just what I wanted to hear. Good eel."
And just like that, your life returned to the perfect way it was before...
And Floyd will never slip through your grasp again.
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nineliabilityrisk · 4 months
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im sorry i promised id stay quiet about this game and i have for so so long but it is so funny watching people play the ballora gallery level not knowing that you can literally just pick up and fling the minireenas like tiny little ragdolls. its spiritually healing everyone who owns the game should do it. theyre so scared of the little bastards it causes them so much stress please just throw them across the room.
spiff has been the one exception to this ive seen so far i love that his first instinct was to pick those little fuckers up and fling them to god knows where
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What if the reader was still a child? I’m not talking 13–14 years old, but what if they were 8–9 years old and they were reading and watching Bungou Stray Dogs because the characters looked "pretty" and they weren't even affected by all the blood and stuff? They just took comfort in the characters since their home life was not so great.
My little guardian
Self-Aware! Platonic! BSD characters x GN! Child! Abused! Reader
Focus: Self-Aware! Platonic! Dazai Osamu x GN! Child! Abused! Reader
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Description: During last Family Reunion, you have heard about an anime. The characters look pretty, so you decide to watch it.
Found Family. Biological family is a bunch of awful jerks. Child Reader.
Warning: Mentions of parental neglect. Abuse. Bulling. Reader are an unwanted/unplanned child. Kids consuming not age appropriate media (child watching/reading BSD). Mentions of terminating the pregnancy. Mentions of torture. Chocking. OOC. Platonic Yandere. English is my second language.
You are sure, that Family Reunions are boring. No one wants to talk to you.
Your parents and other adults were having their boring talks. Your older brother and cousins were running around the backyard, playing tag. You wanted to play with them, but they don't let you join.
Your brother even drags you away to the other side of the backyard and whispers in your ear.
"[Y/N], you already have a game to play, remember? Our parents and you are always playing it. Be a good unwanted sibling, play it and don't bother me."
With that, your brother turns around and returns to your cousins.
You sniff. You are so bored. The game, that your parents wants you to play, is boring. You don't want to play it anymore.
The game is called "What others will say". Your parents have been playing it for nine years. (Ten, if that time, you eavesdrop on them, they weren't mistaken). Ever since you were born. (Or even earlier).
Playing in "What will others say", means doing and saying specific things.
"You can't take the phone with you on a Family Reunion. You should talk to alive people, not look in the screen. What would others say? Yes, your brother can have his. He is older than you, don't question, why he can take his phone."
"You can't tell anyone, that your brother hits you. What will others say?"
"You can't have this toy. We already spent too much money on them. What will others say?"
"What do you mean, all toys we bought, we gave to your brother and you didn't get any?! How dare you say it out loud? What will others say?"
"You can not cry because your brother pushed you down the stairs. What will others say?"
"You can't ask your aunt if you can have more food on your plate. What will others say?"
"Why you didn't terminate ... when we had a chance?"
"I couldn't get rid of it. What would others say?"
"Why you didn't insist ... in the orphanage?"
"I can't. What would others say?"
Boring, stupid game...
You sniff one more time. Stupid adults. You decide to go back inside. Maybe, you will find something interesting there.
__________
All adults were inside. They were talking, discussing their adult things.
They didn't pay any attention to you. But, you heard a couple of whispers, when you passed some of your relatives.
"unwanted" "fault" "pill" "broke" "liked process"
For you, this whispers doesn't make sense. What "pills"? What was "broken"? Whose "fault"?
You passed a group of your much older cousins. They were already in.a high school, so they don't want to speak to a "pipsqueak", like you. One of your cousins bring their girlfriend with them. Now all of them were discussing something.
"I tell you, Dostoevsky is smarter than Dazai!"
"No, Dazai is smarter! Besides, he looks cuter than the Rat Man"
"Are we really having a heated discussion about an anime?"
Anime? You know about anime. Japanese cartoons. You like anime. Your parents aren't against you watching anime. You are silent, while watching it, and doesn't bother them with questions.
So, does adults watch anime too? Maybe, if you ask, they will tell you a name of this anime?
You wanted to take a step towards them, but your cousin, the one who bring their girlfriend, hiss at you.
"What are you looking at? Go, play somewhere else."
You quickly go away. You don't want them to do something bad to you. Yes, you really want to learn the name of the anime, but, you don't want to be hurt because of your curiosity.
For the next ten minutes, you were walking from one part of the house to another. Walking around, doing nothing is better, than sitting on one place, doing nothing.
During your 'walk' you go to the balcony. You noticed your cousin's girlfriend. She is standing there, talking on a cell phone.
A keychain was attached to the phone. The keychain looks like a tiny man with brown eyes, short, dark brown hair. The man is wearing a sand-colored trench coat, black vest over a striped dress shirt, a bolo tie,
white pants and dark brown shoes.
You take a quick glance on Girlfriend's phone case. There is the picture of the same man, but taller and more detailed, on her phone case.
You can't turn you from keychain and phone case. They are so pretty.
Girlfriend finish talking on the phone and turns around. She gasps, after noticing you.
"Y-you scared me"
You feel, that your cheeks become warm. You are embarrassed, that she noticed your staring. But you still can't take your gaze from the keychain.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to. It's just, your keychain and phone case look so cute. Does that character have a name?" explain you, looking at the keychain. Girlfriend also looks at it.
"My keychain and phone case? His name is Dazai Osamu."
You mentally repeat the name. You must not forget to look up this character on the Internet.
"Dazai Osamu? He is from anime, right? Can you tell me the name of the anime? Can you tell me, please? I like anime and want to see as much anime as I can."
Girlfriend looks skeptical.
"It's not an anime for kids. What have you been watching? Pokémon?"
You start listing every anime you have seen.
"Yes! I also have seen Chi's sweet home, Bananya, Naruto, Death Note, Demon Slayer, Shaman King, Gurren Laggan..."
Girlfriend quickly puts her hands over your mouth.
"Okay, you can stop. Kiddo, most of this anime are not for kids. Aren't you afraid of watching them?"
You shake your head. You step back and answer.
"No. They help me, when Dad and Mom are arguing, or Derek, my older brother, is being a jerk."
Girlfriend bits her lip. She looks hesitant. Then she takes a little notepad from her purse and writes something down. Then she takes the page from the notebook and gives it to you.
"Here, I wrote it down."
Your smile became bigger. You take the page and read the text on it. Right above her number, there was an anime name.
Bungou Stray Dogs
"Thank you, miss" your eyes are shining. Now you have more anime to watch."
Girlfriend smiles sadly at you. Then she removes her keychain and gives it to you.
"You can have it, kiddo. Dazai will be your lucky charm."
You take the keychain with trembling hands. You sob and hug Girlfriend's leg.
"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you so much, miss! I will always treasure him!"
Girlfriend pets your head.
"You can call me Martha, kiddo. And you are welcome."
You looked up at Martha.
"Then you can call me [Y/N], Martha"
Martha smiles. You don't notice, that she has tears in her eyes. Martha remembers, what her partner tell her, when today she asked, why they drove you away.
"Babe, [Y/N] are an unplanned child. Their parents liked the baby making process. So, when mother run out of pills, and father's... protection broke... he-he, they got them as a consequence. Wanted to get rid of them, when they still were inside the mother, but granny forbid it. What would others think, if they knew? When the brat were born, parents wanted to leave them in the hospital. And, once again, granny forbid it. What would others think, if they knew? So, kid are unwanted by their parents. They are unwanted by other relatives. And I also don't want this kid to like me. So, let the brat do their own thing."
Martha sighs. She herself was an unplanned child. But her parents love her. So why this family hates poor kid for been born? Martha and pet your head again. You smile and, after thanking her again, you go inside the house again.
You are a good kid. Martha thinks, that, maybe, she should rethink her decision about dating your cousin.
A few hours later, the Family Reunion is finally over.
You are riding home. You are sitting on the backsit of your parents' car. Your brother was sitting near you. Derek was watching something on his phone. Your father is driving, while your mother is sitting next to him.
The page, with anime name and Dazai's keychain, are in your pocket. You didn't show it to your parents or brother. Derek will take the keychain away. Even if he doesn't like anime, he likes to bully you.
You can't wait to finally go home. You want to start watching new anime as soon as possible.
______________________________
In one week, you finished watching anime. You enjoyed it so much.
The characters were pretty. You liked all of them.
You weren't bothered by blood, by death.
This anime helped you with zoning out.
"It was your fault! If only you tell me that it wasn't the safe day..."
"And who insist on us doing it?!"
"Dazai, you looked so cool, when you were in Mafia."
"YOUR MOTHER INSISTED ON KEEPING IT INSIDE ME! IF IT WAS IN MY POWER, I WOULD TARE THIS BANTLING WITH MY BARE HANDS!"
"DON'T YOU DARE TALK ABOUT MY MOTHER!"
"F-Fyodor, you are so smart! You tricked evil Ace!"
"YOU PUT THEM INSIDE ME! YOU RUIN MY LIFE!"
"YOUR LIFE WAS RUINED?! I HAVE TO WORK ON TWO JOBS TO SUPPORT YOU AND CHILDREN! WHILE YOU ARE SITTING AT HOME, DOING NOTHING!"
"Go on, Atsushi! Go on, Akutagawa! Catch Pushkin, so Mister Fukuzawa and Mister Mori become healthy again..."
You hide under the blanket. With phone in your hand and with cheap headphones covering your ears, you were watching the last episodes of Bungou Stray Dogs. You were holding Dazai's keychain in your free hand.
________________________
You find manga and light novels on the Internet. You start reading it from the beginning.
Manga and Novels were as enjoyable as anime.
Manga and Light Novels help you with zoning out.
"Hey, unwanted sibling! Mom and Dad are going to order pizza! And we won't gibe you anything! You will go to bed hungry again!"
"Yosano, don't blame yourself. You are not an Angel of Death"
"Hey, [Y/N], why won't you just disappear? You are making Derek boo-boo-bear and his folks upset. They will be better without you"
"Kunikida, don't be upset. Yosano will treat you."
"Hey, [Y/N], lil sibling! Please, do me a favor and get lost in the woods! You are poisoning my life! My perfect life!"
"Mister Fukuchi, did Mister Fukuzawa upsets you in your past? Maybe, you can talk it out."
You hide under the blanket. With phone in your hand and with cheap headphones covering your ears, you were reading Bungou Stray Dogs manga and Light Novels. You were holding Dazai's keychain in your free hand.
___________________
"Bungou Stray Dogs. Mayoi Inu Kaikitan" was installed on your phone.
The game was easy and nice.
You love playing it. Dazai's keychain was always with you, when you were playing the game.
For you, the keychain become your little protector.
You start to draw. In a cheep sketchbook, you draw yourself and BSD gang.
On your drawings...
...You were eating waffles with Atsushi and Kyouka...
... You were petting cats with Fukuzawa...
...You were playing detectives with Ranpo and Poe...
...You were listening to Fyodor's playing cello...
...You were doing magical tricks with Gogol...
...You were playing with Q and Elise...
... Dazai was protecting you...
... And all the characters were glad having you near them.
__________________
Derek was a wanted child. After your parents had you, they start spoiling him.
They let him bully you.
They protect him, if he bully other kids.
Then, one day, he got too far.
After school, you saw him. He and his friends had knives. They were torturing a blind homeless man.
You were scared. You want to help the poor man. But you were so afraid.
"Do what must be done"
Kunikida's main ideal.
You quickly take a picture of your brother on your phone and hurry to the police station.
____________
You were home alone. Your parents try to save Derek. But, it seems, this time, he will be punished.
You were playing BSD Mayoi. You had a backpack with your sketchbook and keychain in it with you. You did an eleven pull.
The purple moon shined above Yokohama.
And your parents got home.
The door to your room was opened. Your mother's hands squeeze your throat. Your father looked equally angry.
"IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT! HOW DARE YOU TO PUT DEREK IN TROUBLE!"
You tried to breathe. Your father raised a belt above you.
You didn't notice, that you finally get a Kirako Haruno SSR card.
____________________
The moment Kirako waked up, she grabbed the nearest person. Fukuzawa Yukichi.
Kirako tried to shake him. She was shouting.
"Please, tell me that you can send someone to their world! Quick!"
Everyone gathered around Kirako and Fukuzawa. The president tried to calm her down.
"Kirako, please, calm down, explain, what's going on?"
"We have no time! [Y/N]'s parents going to kill them! We need to hurry! Please, they are just a child. They are unloved by their family. They see us as their friends. We need to save them!"
Kirako choked on her tears.
"They have a Dazai's keychain. They call it their little protector. We can't abandon them."
Grave silence.
The sand-colored blur ran towards the unfinished portal.
Loud noise. Bright light.
And right before them were standing a woman, who was chocking a nine-year-old kid and a man, who was ready to strike a kid with a belt.
"Hands off, bastards!"
Dazai's fist hit your mother's face. Her grip loosens. Both she and you fall on the ground. Before your father can react, Tetchou's ability already pierced his hand, that was holding a belt.
______________
You were coughing. You tried to breathe in as much air as you can.
Someone picked you up and hugged you. You heard a voice. Familiar voice.
"You are safe. You are alright." "Poor thing" "I will keep you safe" "Osamu will keep you safe"
"Dazai?" asked you, still dizzy. He smiled and kissed your temple and forehead.
"Yes, I am here. We are here. You are safe."
"My parents?" quietly ask you, hugging Dazai in return.
"Don't worry about them. Just sleep. There is nothing to worry about."
You listen to Dazai and slowly fall asleep.
____________
When Dazai was carrying you towards infirmary, Yosano tried to take a look at you, to make sure that you are not harmed. The look Dazai gave to Yosano... Everyone realized, that, for now, Dazai won't let anyone near you.
Dazai carry you to the infirmary and, after taking off your backpack, putting you on the bed and covering you with a blanket, returns to the others.
Your parents were on the floor, held down by Chuuya's ability. They looked terrified.
Father spoke first. "Who are you? What's going on? Where are we?"
Mother growl. "How dare you hit me? I was disciplining that bantling..."
One kick in the face from Pushkin shut mother down.
The grave silence. Then BSD characters start talking.
"Doesn't matter, who we are" Akutagawa. Rasenmon opens its maw.
"It's not like you will understand" Atsushi. Sharp tiger's claw glimmer in moonlight.
"Doesn't matter, what is happening now" Fukuzawa. His sword was sharp and deadly.
"What matters, is what you have done." Verlaine. The look in his eyes doesn't promise anything good.
"Doesn't matter, where are you" Ranpo's smile doesn't look friendly.
"It's not like you can return home" Mori. Elise was ready to attack.
"You are monsters, who were hurting Our Dear Guiding Light" Teruko. She was ready to tear your parents apart.
"And it's unforgivable" Hawthorne. He was growling.
"But don't worry. We won't kill you. For now." Gin. She lazily played with her blade.
"We will teach you a lesson." Fyodor. He was looking at his hands, thinking, if he should use his ability oh your parents.
"We will beat you up." Goncharov. Earth start trembling.
"With legs" Kunikida. Tazer in his hand let out a loud buzzing sound.
"With your own legs" Twain. He cocked the trigger.
"You know what is the best part?" Ayatsuji. The smoke from his cigar slowly disappeared.
"Your legs would still be attached to your body" Gogol. His grin looked madder, than before.
One moment later, your parents screamed.
_________________
You woke up a few hours later. At first, you thought, that Dazai from yesterday was just a dream. But, you quickly realized that it was real. Because the first person you saw at the morning was Dazai. He was waiting for you to wake up.
"Mourning, my little one. Are you alright? Ready to met others?"
You nodded shyly.
"I am alright. But... I am afraid of meeting others. What if they won't like me?"
Dazai smile and pick you up. He rubs your head. He went towards the Infirmary door.
"Don't be silly. Everyone here loves you. You are safe here. You are loved here."
Dazai slowly open the door and walked inside the ADA office.
Immediately, you and Dazai were surrounded by other BSD characters.
"Hello, [Y/N]!"
"Hi, [Y/N]!"
"You are finally here!"
"We have been waiting for you!"
"You are so cute!"
"Want to spend time together?"
"Want some breakfast?"
They were smiling.
They love you.
You are wanted.
You smile at them in return.
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esamastation · 6 months
Text
Part sixty-one of Shizuroth, aka, the SOLDIER General's Self Saving Shizun.
Ao3 link.
Previous parts: fifty-seven, fifty-eight, fifty-nine, sixty
-
"There, wasn't that so much faster?"
If looks could kill, Tseng's answering glare would've had him six feet under. He doesn't object, though, and Sephiroth grins smugly. He knows might've given the Turk a perfect opportunity to observe his new abilities and that might come back to bite him in the ass, but Sephiroth doesn't care anymore.
He's already fucked everything up! He's killed the protagonist! Maybe! Possibly!
Though true enough, Final Fantasy VII has a weird relationship with mental illness and death and coming back from both, so brain dead is probably nowhere near permanent - but then again, it might be a gateway to who knows what kinds of shenanigans. Especially where Cloud Strife is concerned! The guy was mind controlled left and right, literally swam through the Planet, came out with a major case of broken brain, had someone go into said brain, and recovered! Like. Cultivators could go through some weird stuff too, but that is really something else together!
And the worst thing is, Sephiroth doesn't know how reliant this world is on its protagonists. Back in PIDW, if something happened to Luo Binghe, it might've very well led to Game Over for the rest of them. It definitely would've been Game Over for Shen Qingqiu! Their Protagonist was literally the lynchpin holding everything together. What if Cloud Strife is the same?
And what if Sephiroth's sloppy approach to transmigration this time led to his death?
So, yeah. He doesn't really care about what he reveals. Between accidentally leading to Protagonist's death and becoming the Big Planet-Killing Bad, he's probably got some leeway here. He's already OOC, he already messed stuff up. Who cares!
Plus… Tseng's face was really funny.
Tseng adjusts the front of his suit jacket, giving him the side-eye. "Faster, maybe. Necessary…?" 
"It was very necessary. There's barely a signal at the house!" Sephiroth says innocently and brings out his phone, opening it with a decisive snap. "You can send messages, sure, but to make calls? Besides, you're the one who insisted on tagging along."
Tseng gives him a bitchy face. "I appreciate your accommodation for my wishes, then," he says acerbically. His tone suggests he wouldn't be insisting again.
Sephiroth grins and then turns his attention to his phone. Genesis' number is the third on speed dial, after Mission Office and Angeal.
He answers on the third ring.
"Someone had better be dying," Genesis groans, voice sleep-rough and stretched by a yawn.
Oh, oops, time zones. "Ah, Genesis, did I wake you?" Sephiroth asks, wincing, and turns to walk away from Tseng, following the mountainside and keeping to the clear, where he knows the connection works.
"Sephiroth," Genesis answers, and nothing else. Oh dear, he's really not happy.
Leaning his head back to look at the sky as he walks and hoping he wouldn't be paying for this later, Sephiroth clears his throat. "I'll, uh, just get to the point, shall I? You know about the new injection trials?"
"Yes," and again nothing else. Sephiroth is on very thin ice, it seems.
Walking away from Tseng is more for his peace of mind than anything - he's pretty sure Tseng is wiretapping him somehow. Still, he checks back to make sure there's some distance in between before speaking. 
"There's one candidate that went brain dead," Sephiroth says, and looks away. "I need to know what you know about him."
Genesis is quiet for a long moment before a sigh sounds through the connection, and then there's a sound of bed frame cracking and a heavy breath as Genesis stands up. "Hang on a moment."
Sephiroth waits, biting his lower lip, watching the clouds drift over the forests below.
"Cloud Strife, fourteen years of age, originally from a little town called Nibelheim on the middle continent," Genesis says, accompanied by the sound of papers rustling. "He signed up for the SOLDIER candidate trials a little under a month ago and was pulled into the new project five days ago. He got two injections, both on the same day, and flatlined almost immediately after the second one," Genesis trails away. "They managed to rez him, but by then the oxygen deprivation wreaked havoc on his brain. He'd been on life support in a Mako tank since."
Sephiroth falls to sit on a rocky outcropping sticking out of the mountainside. "Shit."
"Mmhmm," Genesis says. "Hard to say who has it worse, him or the ones who have fallen. You do know that this mess has already led to deaths, right?"
Well, now he's angry. "I know, I know," Sephiroth sighs, running a hand over his face. "I'm sorry."
"Tch," Genesis answers and there's a sound of papers being thrown. "Madness of the beasts leads to the corruption of good men. I'm guessing Strife has a chance of ending up like you, then?"
"... What?" Sephiroth asks.
"Oh, don't play coy, I'm far too tired," Genesis scoffs. "You got overdosed, flatlined and changed. The injection did something to you, gave you knowledge. Is the same going to happen to Strife? That's why Hojo is dragging it out keeping him alive, but if you think so too…"
Sephiroth clasps a hand over his chin. He hadn't even thought about it. Could it happen? Another transmigration, in style similar to his? PIDW had two transmigrators, but they were very different. Shang Qinghua began as a baby, Shen Qingqiu inherited a full life of an established scum villain.
If Cloud Strife died - which he might've already… does that make him open for transmigration? Who would transmigrate into him? Shang Qinghua was slated to die, just like Shen Qingqiu was, but… Airplane, in a Protagonist? Why would he?
Why had Sephiroth?
"I… don't know," Sephiroth admits. "I can't… deny the possibility."
"Damnation," Genesis sighs. "What should we expect?"
"I have no idea," Sephiroth says and looks up. It could be anyone - or might not even be someone he knows! It could be someone from Earth! 
"Well, that's just great," Genesis sighs. "Do you have any idea when, how, what we should look out for, anything?"
"Um," Sephiroth says and then shakes his head. "I think it might be best if I just come there."
"Oh, wonderful idea! That's just what this situation needs, you giving the scientists new ideas!" Genesis groans, muffled as though against a palm. "Just do me a favour: when you next lose it, feel free to finish Hojo off, alright?"
"I -"
Genesis hangs up on him. 
… Rude.
Sephiroth lowers the phone, eyeing the scenery for a moment. Then he turns to his watchman who's pretending as if he didn't hear everything. "Oh, Tseng?"
"I don't know if i can arrange you a transport to Midgar at this short a notice," the Turk says, very bland and noncommittal. He's absolutely lying.
"Oh, you can't? I must've overestimated you Turks," Sephiroth says and jumps up to his feet, walking back over to him. "Isn't your job getting me back to Midgar as soon as possible?"
"Back to work, and only once we're sure you're not still unstable," Tseng says, wryly, giving him a very dubious look. "Something I'm still not so sure of."
"I had one mental breakdown, and I've been level since, haven't I?" Sephiroth cajoles him. "I promise I won't lose it again. And this will let you observe me more, in a different situation, reacting to stress!"
Tseng doesn't look convinced.
"I'm going to Midgar one way or another. At least like this you'll be in charge."
The Turk shakes his head. "I don't think that's a good enough reason to arrange intercontinental transport on a whim." Tseng says dryly. "If you feel fit for duty, I can certainly arrange some missions for you. Until further notice, you're stationed here."
Sephiroth gives him a look. "I'll fly under my own power if I have to," he threatens.
"Even over the ocean?" Tseng asks sarcastically, but pulls out his phone. "And what's your plan when you get to Midgar - walk up to Professor Hojo and just demand he releases a research specimen to you?"
"You know, that might not be a bad idea. Who knows, he might actually do it," Sephiroth says brightly and then, at Tseng's judgemental look, snorts. "I'm kidding. I'll think of something."
"... Very reassuring," Tseng shakes his head and punches in a number from memory. "You'll owe me, Sephiroth," he promises, putting the phone to his ear. "And don't think I didn't notice that you reacted to the name, rather than the status of this Cloud Strife."
Sephiroth smiles at him sweetly. "You're my favourite Turk, Tseng."
Tseng sighs, and gets him a flight to Midgar.
-
You've heard of Liuber, now get ready for...
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Text
You Call It Madness But I Call It Love
Chapter 9: Wedding Bells or Gong of Destruction?
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Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV
Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter nine of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)
Word Count: 3.3K
Warnings: References to sex, Cursing (a few times), Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC, pining, fluff, some angst.
Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!
Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics
Series Masterlist
Masterlist
****************************************
Philadelphia 1941
You paced at the foot of your bed, wringing your hands together, heartbeat frantic against your ribcage as your world seemed to spin to a stop. You didn't know whether you wanted to laugh or cry, scream or sob, throw up or have a stroke. Your entire body was electrified with your nerves, popping and crackling loud in your ears as the impulses jumped from synapse to synapse with ease.
And it was Howard's fault.
After three years of courting, of you trying to make up excuses to lengthen the distance between you two, of trying to find a way out, of trying to find a way to tell Ben that you loved him, it had finally happened, Howard had proposed. It wasn't out of the blue, you had been courting long enough and you were well past the age of usual engagement, something your mother continued to point out, but that didn't make any of this any easier.
Your eyes drop to the offensive chunk of jewelry on your left hand. Not only was it the ugliest ring you’d ever seen, but it was from the wrong man. You knew that deep down in your bones, knew it the second Howard came to Sunday night dinner and dropped to one knee in front of you. Hell, you knew it the second you met Howard for the first time. He was nothing compared to Ben, no one was.
You had looked Howard in the eye stunned, unable to speak, then raised your eyes to your father and mother hoping to find your voice and a plausible excuse, but before you could give him the honest answer you knew in your heart to be true, your mother had shouted "Of course she will!"
Because she's controlled everything else about my life, of course she'd do this as well.
Your tried again not to think about how ugly the ring and how it was utterly wrong for you in every way. When Howard dropped to one knee and opened the velvet box, all you could think of was Ben. You wondered what ring Ben would have chosen for you and wondered if the ring from him would have been right.  He knew you better than anyone else.
Which begged the question: shouldn't your fiancé?
You tried not to compare your best friend to Howard, because you knew who would win. Every time you began to compare them, Ben had more pros than Howard did. But you couldn't keep waiting for Ben, didn't want to. Howard was promising you a future, a family, marriage-
A loveless one. The thought is immediate and makes your heart seize in your chest.
You knew that a marriage with Ben would be different, filled with passion, romance, love-
But he doesn't love you. So basically if Ben married you it would be the same for him as you marrying Howard. A one-sided love.
Despite dating Howard, you still allowed Ben in your life. Ben stayed over whenever he wished, walked with you to the park, stole you away for drinks in the bar down the street where Howard wouldn't be caught dead in, and took you to the occasional baseball game. Howard didn't drink and he didn't like being outside. Those moments with Ben made you feel more alive than you'd ever felt and then you'd meet Howard later and try to summon the enthusiasm to sit with him at dinner, all the while you were still buzzing with happiness from seeing Ben.
It made you feel like a traitor, feeling that good and thinking about another person while Howard tried to be everything you wanted.
Whenever Howard would kiss you goodnight, it made you feel like you were kissing a statue, cold, unfeeling, and despite his attempts to slide his tongue in your mouth it was passionless. And it made you think about what Ben said about Howard's name and what he would be like in bed, as improper as it was. You think back to all the moments you and Ben had been pressed against one another when you woke up in the morning, how perfectly you fit against him. Whenever Howard tried to hug you or hold you close it was all wrong. He wasn't tall enough or broad enough, not to mention sometimes you thought if he'd even be able to pick you up. Howard was more lanky than muscular, certainly not as strong as Ben, who picked you up one time on a dare from Adam when you were all really drunk.
Howard didn’t make you feel warm when he touched you accidently, he didn’t make you feel brave whenever your mother was around, and he certainly didn’t make you feel as happy as you did when you were with Ben. Not to mention he never let you draw him, said that there were more important things that he could be doing rather than siting there posing for you.
Howard wasn’t spontaneous. He’d show up exactly on time, call when he said he would, time every single minute of your dates and he certainly never tried to surprise you the way Ben did. The only time Howard ever seemed excited about anything was when he was talking about the fiscal progress of the United States in comparison to Europe, which he weaseled into every conversation you had together.
Even when he asked you to marry him it sounded more like a business proposal than a happy moment. You always thought that when you got engaged the other person would make at least some confession of love. He hadn’t done that. Howard successfully sucked the life out of a moment you thought you would remember forever. You couldn’t even remember what he said before he got on one knee, just the awkward silence and the feeling of dread that clamped tight around your heart when he asked you the question that ruined your life.
Legally am I bound to this, because technically my mother said yes for me?
You wondered if Howard proposed because the U.S was finally joining in the war or if he genuinely loved you. He brought by flowers often, roses even though you liked lavender more, brought by caramels even though you liked chocolates, and sent you books on the financial history of the United States that were helpful when you couldn't sleep at night, they sent you right off, not to mention you'd started sketching street scenes in the pages making them much more interesting, but you weren't going to show Howard that. His head would probably explode.
You sigh again, pacing faster at the end of your bed.
Howard wanted a quick wedding within the week before he shipped out to military training on Friday, and maybe you should be scared about your fiancé going to war, but the only person you were worried about was Ben. He'd probably also join the military to prove something to his father and take your heart with him when he left. You knew that Ben was the only one you wanted to hold your heart in his hands.
You look back down at the ring on your finger, filled with dread and thoughts about a passionless future.
How am I going to tell Ben?
The tap on your window is familiar, but frightens you, because you didn't know how to tell him or how he'd react. Each time you brought up Howard around him, Ben would make a sarcastic comment and change the subject. You think about the night you danced together, when Ben said that you couldn't be Howard's and also his friend.
Does that mean he'll never want to be apart of my life when we get married?
The thought makes your heart break. You couldn't imagine a life without Ben and you didn't want to, but you could image a life without Howard.
Ben is crouched in the window, a wide smile on his face,  but this time he doesn't wait for you to let him in, he rolls up the window himself and he crosses the room to hug you.
The hug surprises you. You were usually the one that initiated them, but the hug breaks something in your chest and you hug him back tighter than you ever had to stop the tears from falling, pressing your face into his rumpled suit.
"Hey Sweetheart." Ben pulls back, but frowns when he looks at your face. "What's wrong?" Ben's hand gently cups your cheek, trailing warmth where his fingertips touch. You're surprised at the boldness of his touch, but you ascribe it to the alcohol, given the sharp tang of whiskey that floats through the air between you.
"Nothing." You clear your throat, stepping back so his hand falls and covering your ring finger on your left hand with your right nonchalantly. "How are you?"
Ben frowns for a minute at your reaction, but then shakes it off. "I've got great news." He smiles so wide that it makes the urge to cry rise in the back of your throat again.
You knew that as soon as you married Howard he would forbid you from seeing Ben. He already had after the night at the dance hall, but you didn't pay attention to him. Unfortunately, you knew that once you were married you wouldn’t be able to defy his wishes. You respected what marriage represented far too much to cross that line.
"Um me too." You smile tightly, your heartbeat so loud you wonder if Ben can hear it.
"Oh. Well-" Ben begins to say, wanting to let you talk.
"No. Please, you go first."
He won't tell me what news he has if I say my piece about Howard.
"Well, I've been thinking about what you said to me the other day about trying to figure out what I want-"
You remembered the conversation clearly. It was another day at Fairmount Park and it was an attempt to get Ben to start thinking about his future, though when you had told him to figure out what he wanted you hoped that it meant he would consider you, consider turning your friendship into something more. Your heart surges, hoping that this is it, this is Ben finally saying that loves you, that he wants to be with you.
"And I'm finally going to make something of myself." Ben's green eyes shine brightly with his excitement.
"Huh?" Your heart sinks.
"I talked to my dad." You don't miss the way Ben's jaw tightens when he says it. "And I've decided to enlist-"
"Enlist! Ben-" It takes all you have to beg him not to go, not to leave you here. Because you knew that you couldn't live without him and the thought that he would die overseas in a war destroyed you.
"Wait, listen." Ben smiles wider, confusing you. "My dad has friends in the war department, friends that are looking for volunteers for a military project."
"A military project?"
"It's a serum or an injection that's supposed to make us stronger, better-"
"What do you mean?" You ask mildly confused. You hadn't heard of the government announcing any kind of experiments or projects in the newspapers. Surely Howard would have told you about it, he was always boring you with things like that.
"I'm a not a scientist" Ben shakes his head. "But all I know is that they're looking for volunteers and they want men and women."
Surprise flits through your mind. It was odd that they were also asking for women. Although you knew that the military was beginning to accept women in their ranks, it was still surprising that they wanted female volunteers for a government project. Especially if they were experimenting on them.
Like lab rats?
"What are you saying?" You're still confused as to what he's trying to tell you, unusual given the fact that you were usually very good at reading him.
"I want you come with me." Ben can hardly contain his excitement, his smile is so wide it nearly splits his face.
It was the last thing you expected him to ask. "What?" You blink.
"I don't want to do this without you." He says in a tone that makes your heartbeat stop. "And I want you to come with me." He repeats.
Your immediate reaction is to scream yes, let him take you away from all of this, but then you remember Howard, and your mother and feel the weight begin to settle on your shoulders again.
"Ben I can't." It breaks your heart to say it to him, to watch how his face falls.
“Why not?”
"Howard is-"
"Come on, you really think things are going to work out with that son of a bitch?" Ben shouts so loud you're afraid that he'll wake up your parents.
"He loves me-" You begin to say, the urge to cry coming back strong, burning against your eyes. Because now it was that you were choosing Howard over him, even though you didn't want to, it was what your mother wanted. The future she laid out for you.
"You don't know that." Ben snaps, rolling his eyes.
"Ben, he-" You struggle to find your words, taking in a deep breath to strengthen your voice. "He- he proposed. I mean it's been three years, we're both of age-"
Ben's eyes drop to your left hand and this time you uncover your hand so he can see the engagement ring. His shoulders tense and the muscle in his jaw clenches and unclenches.
"When did he ask you?" Ben says in almost a growl.
"Tonight. He came to dinner, my mother is so excited-" You successfully keep the tremor from your voice, but it quickly feels like you're running out of air.
"But you're not." Ben mutters
"Of course I am-" Your voice cracks with emotion.
"No you're not." Ben raises his gaze to look at you.  "I know you." The look in his eyes is unfamiliar, almost afraid.
But Ben isn't scared of anything. You try to remember a moment that he acted afraid, the only time is the memory of when you first met, when his father was looking for him and you lied to help him hide. Ben was fearless, it was something that you admired about him. You could always rely on him to have your back, be strong when you knew that you couldn’t be. To see him afraid was different.
"Ben-" You try again.
"Please." His jaw clenches together. "Don't marry him. Come with me."
"What?" You blink a few times to comprehend what he's asking.
Is he saying that he wants me to marry him? To run away with him?
"You're worth a hundred of him and I don't want to do this without you."
"Ben you're asking me to give up my future, my life-" You say trying to strengthen your resolve.
As unwelcome as Howard's proposal was, it was a future of sorts, what Ben was asking you was to dive into the unknown and you weren't sure if you were strong enough to do that. To leave everything you knew behind you and go with him. But apart of you was thrilled. Maybe it meant that Ben cared for you, needed you and this was the only way that he knew how to tell you. The three little words jump to the tip of your tongue again, the words you wanted to say when you danced together under the twinkling lights all those nights ago.
"You mean the future your mother wants for you." Ben sighs.
"Ben-"
"You’ve been trying to please her your whole life. Please don’t do this for her. Don’t marry him for her." Ben says, trying to catch your gaze, but you look down at his chest for a minute.
"But-"
"You are worth more y/n. And even if she can’t see your worth I can."
"Ben-"  You look back up at him, trying to find the courage to tell him that you love him.
He stares back at you, green eyes wide and honest before he takes your hands. They're warm and rough, familiar in the best way. "Tell me that you want him. You’ve never lied to me before and I don’t think you’ll start now."
Your words die on your tongue, because you know that you can't lie to him, you never could.
"Is that really what you want? To spend the rest of your life with him? If it is I'll leave, but I want to hear you say it." His eyes are filled with promises that make your voice catch in your throat, like two blazing green fires that see through you. Ben might have acted aloof with other people, but he always paid attention to you and knew what you were thinking.  No one knew you as well as he did, well except for the most obvious thing.
No it's not what I want. All I want is to be with you. The thought is immediate.
"But what about my mother-" You say, squeezing his hands.
"If you come with me, you'll never have to worry about her ever again." He says. By now tears are trickling down your cheeks, frustration and confusion building in your chest. Ben was promising you a future with him, but you couldn't understand if he was doing it because he wanted to be more or if he wanted you with him because you were his friend.
He drops your hands and instead brushes away your tears from your eyes. "I know you don't want to marry him."
"I don't." You whisper. "But I don’t know if I'm strong enough for this-"
“Do you trust me?”
Your hands come up to the front of his chest before you can stop yourself, feeling the warmth that surges underneath your palms. “Of course I do.”
His eyes are inviting, pleading, filled with emotion. "I swear that I will be strong enough for the both of us." His hands cup your cheeks. "I swear that I will look out for you like I always have.  I swear that I will never leave you. And I don't want to leave you behind. Please y/n. Come with me." The earnest look in Ben's eyes makes you cry harder, but you know that all you want is to go with him.
You don't want him to go and leave you here, where no one understands and the future that you see is cold, emotionless, and the path dark. You see the coming years with Howard, living together, having children, lunching with other women you hardly know and talking about nothing that mattered.
When you were with Ben everything you talked about seemed important, every moment with him was fused with wonder and expectation, you were never disappointed and were always excited about what you would do together even if it was something as mundane as sitting on a bench with Ben talking while you painted. You could imagine spending the rest of your life with him.
But could he imagine the same thing with you?
The future you see with Ben is warm, inviting, filled with promises you know that he’ll keep because he’s never broken a promise to you no matter what.
But you wonder if it's the promise that you want.
You stand there in the silence of his plea, hearing the ticking of the clock on your bedside table, the sound of cars outside your window, and the sounds of the night vibrate through you bones.
He wasn’t saying that he loved you. He wasn’t confessing his love. He wasn’t making a promise to marry you.
But maybe this was his way. Ben had never been the best at expressing what he was feeling, but the look in his eyes, the way his fingers hold your face to his-
It spoke volumes.
“Yes.” You whisper. “I’ll come with you.”
Ben’s smile breaks your heart as he pulls you tightly against him, laying his head on top of yours as he hugs you and sets every nerve ending on fire. Because the hug is different. It’s filled with the unspoken words between you, the memories you’ve shared, and the great unknown that stretches beyond both of you.
And you cling tight to him, the only part of your future that’s certain.
Or so you thought.
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a/n: I know, I know there's a lot of unresolved tension.😂 I promise it will all make sense and that it is going somewhere. But I will say the next few chapters are kinda... rough and are painful to write, but I can't wait for y'all to read them.
Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series let me know :)
Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303 @deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs @bughill126, @simplyfixated @sleepjam, @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts,@onlyangel-444
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psst I have something for you RE fans here have this 
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