#but please be polite or I will be like ?? why did a stranger tell me I'm wrong in my own home; I'm just sitting here <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[hawnks]

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[miniimight]

DISAPPEARING ACT . rindou often disappears for weeks at a time, showing up at home as if it's nothing. a brief exchange triggers a factory reset in him, but you're not as open to it as he expected you to be...

prompt used "better than me disappearing for good. / is it?"

with married!rindou + fem!reader

warnings cursing. a lot of cursing. angst? rindou is an idiot and possessive.

part two

you never got to see your husband anymore. so much so that you considered the chance of it happening next to nothing. you knew what you were getting into being in an relationships with him; lots of meetings and flights to other cities all meant extended time away from home.

you would've been a little more forgiving had he chosen to tell you these things. but no. morning after morning, you wake up to him gone without a trace, without consideration for how you feel. was he alive? was he with someone else? did he not care enough to call or even send a text?

it was as if you lived alone, and a stranger crashed at your place every once in a while. and while you shared polite exchanges, no amount of small talk could overshadow how bleak your marriage was.

it was eleven days before he showed up again. you were, surprisingly, awake when he returned. he was perfectly groomed, albeit a little jaded, but still regarded you with the same coldness you endured since he started leaving. you missed the warmth of your younger days, where he would hold you close and reassure you that you were meant for each other for life.

you decided today was as good a day as any. heck, he even might be gone tomorrow and it would be like you didn't say anything.

"i'm tired of you disappearing for days and then coming back like it was nothing." you said plainly.

he slipped out of his shoes, looking down at you. rolling his eyes lightly but sighing heavily, he started to pull off his tie. "better than me disappearing for good."

a wry smile spread on your face. oh, if he only knew. "is it?"

those two words sent an arrow straight through his heart.

rindou was silent, pretending as if he didn't hear what you just said. but when you scoffed and walked away, he knew it was too real for him to overlook.

"you don't mean that." it was less of a question and more of a please, don't mean it.

you shrugged and went back to your phone, too benumbed to even look at him.

he stared at you, utterly confused as to how to tackle this. "y/n." he said firmly.

you slowly raised your head to meet his eyes, void of any care. "what?"

"i said, you don't mean that." he stood like a tree in the middle of the living area, palms growing sweaty. he loved you. he couldn't lose you, not when you both went through so much to get here.

"don't i?" you responded, placing your phone beside you. not like i see you anymore, anyway. what's the difference?

"stop fucking talking like that and answer me." he snarled. you rolled your eyes, rising to your feet.

"look, rin. who the fuck cares what i think or say? certainly not you." you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. "just—just forget i said anything." you turned towards your bedroom. "goodnight."

wait. he lunged forward, grabbing your arm and spinning you around to face him, backing you against a wall. caging you with arms on either side of you, he stared into your soul, hoping to get some sort of reaction out of you.

you just stared back.

his heart clenched. yeah, he was away for weeks at a time. of course he didn't tell you. why would he? why would he burden you with that information?

"you really think me going away forever is better?" his voice was a whisper, but held the sharpness of a knife. "huh? you want me gone forever?"

you sighed. "i didn't say i wanted that. i just meant that, either way, it doesn't matter. going away forever, going away for weeks and weeks but only staying for a night..." your eyes met his, glossy but fierce. "it's the same to me. i don't care what the hell you do anymore, rindou. just let me go to bed."

he studied the person he truly loved for so long, wondering when it all went downhill.

you were impatient, ducking under his arms. "shit..." you cursed, rubbing the back of your neck as you walked away.

he watched you go. and he never saw you come back.

the next morning he woke up, expecting to see you in the kitchen or watching tv, but his house was empty.

"y/n?" he called out. no answer. he pulled up his phone. no texts, no calls. he bustled around the house, looking for some indication of where you went and he found nothing.

he called his brother, thinking that he was the next best person you would've gone to, but ran had no contact from you.

rindou sat on the couch, nothing to do but sit and wait. he looked around. everything was well-kept, pristine, and sanitized. it was like no one lived here at all. no one except a lonely spouse in an eternal cycle of wait for a husband that wouldn't even give them the time of day to say, i'm heading out.

i love you.

goodbye.

he leaned back, closing his eyes. he doesn't even say goodbye.

he hated himself for it.

hours passed and he didn't move from the couch. he knew you sat there for much longer, day after day, waiting for him. no wonder you were uncaring. coming home meant nothing if he would simply leave again.

then he heard the click of the door. he practically jumped off the couch, racing over to the entrance. he saw you with a couple groceries hooked on your forearms, struggling to keep the door open long enough for you to slip inside.

he rushed over. yanking the door open with such force, it slammed into the wall causing you to jump. rindou winced a little, steadying the door from swinging wildly.

you eyes met his and your face immediately scrunched with confusion. "what are you doing here?"

"well... it's my house..?" he said dumbly.

you pressed your lips into a line. "hm."

you expected me to be gone again, he thought bitterly. he cleared his throat. "let me help you with these," he alleviated the weight off your arms, bunching up a couple bags and carrying them all in one go. "you know, you could just order them for delivery."

you sidestepped him and walked to the kitchen. "why would i do that?"

"so you can have them brought to you from the comfort of your home." he responded lightly. following robotically, he was unsure where everything was supposed to be put away.

you laughed, catching him off-guard. on closer inspection, though, he knew that wasn't a genuine laugh. "rindou, do you think i want to stay in this place any more than i have to?"

you said it so casually, grabbing a bag from him and stocking the cabinets and fridges.

his stomach swirled with much more unease than he'd ever experienced on the job. it was the way you simply didn't care anymore, talking about the rift between you and him as if you were reciting the weather report.

fight me, he wanted to say. kick, yell at me, scream at me, do anything at all to show me you're upset. he knows he fucked up. you definitely know he fucked up. so why weren't you telling him that? why weren't you cursing him out for being a bad husband? your nonchalance came from a long time being cast aside, so much so that you expected it to happen; so much so that you gave up on him.

indifference was the final nail in the coffin of your marriage, and you were about to bang it shut.

he observed you, thinking about how many times you'd busy yourself with mundane errands to feel like you were living. how many times you'd come back to this flat, putting away shit you'd probably never touch. how many times you'd listen to the silence ringing off the walls.

he set the bags down and held your shoulders, turning you to face him. "i've taken the next few days off."

you smiled insincerely. "great."

rindou felt like a kid again, when he had work up enough courage to ask you out. "we... we could spend them together."

your eyes squinted. "why?"

he spluttered. "what do you mean, why?"

you swatted his hands off your shoulders. "god, i shouldn't have said anything," you mumbled. "rindou, this is just you feeling guilty because of what i said last night, okay?"

he frowned. "it's not."

your eyebrows raised as you rummaged through another grocery bag. "it is. don't pretend like you're gonna change. what did you think we were going to do—go out together? like old times, when we were happy and in love?"

his face burned. anyone else—if it were anyone else speaking so flippantly with him, he'd have them beat til they're unconscious. and past tense? when we were in love? his brain was doing backflips trying to find a way to salvage the situation. "yes."

you laughed that fake laugh again. it grated on his ears. "that's funny. i was just feeling a little vulnerable last night, is all. had a couple of drinks and maybe was feeling sentimental about the days when everything was simple."

rindou stepped closer to you, ripping the bag away from your hands and towering over you. "it is simple. we can—"

"we can't do anything." you curled your hands into fists, your voice trembling. "can you just..?" go away?

rindou's breath caught in his chest, fully anticipating another heartless laugh.

he hated it when you cried. he hated it when you were angry. he would do anything for your eternal happiness, he realized, and he'd been falling short of his promises for far too long.

rindou leaned onto the counter, bending at the waist. his hand rested on your waist and his eyes were laser focused on your expression, a confusing mix of frustration, sadness, and the will to remain emotionless.

"baby," he whispered.

"don't fucking call me baby." you hissed.

he pursed his lips, unwilling to compromise. "pretty baby. i don't wanna go on like this." his fingers brushed your cheek. "i don't want to you to be sad anymore."

"well, isn't that righteous." you rolled your eyes though your heart ached. it ached for him, for the boyfriend he was and the husband he promised to be.

he glared at you. "would you just listen?"

"no, rindou." you shoved him away from you, despite the overwhelming urge telling you to pull him in and hug him tight. "stop acting like i'm the one making things difficult. like you're being a fucking saint trying to bring us back together when the only reason we're like this is because of you." your voice became watery, growing in volume as you finally succumbed to all the hurt and pain inside you.

"i tried to be understanding." you sobbed. "i did. i tried. you have your work and i know that it's dangerous. but seriously—you promised you'd make time for me. you promised." you sniffed, rubbing tears off your cheeks, ranting without any goal in mind. "you don't even say goodbye."

he stood frozen, your emotions hitting him square in the face and leaving him dazed. it was like the only thing he could do was stand and watch.

"i didn't want to do this." you said tearfully. "i'm sorry i said anything, okay? i'm sorry. just—leave me alone."

his eyes narrowed. "never. i'm never leaving."

your glassy eyes shot up to meet his with a hard look of their own.

"i love you, y/n. and i'm never letting you go." he said firmly, stepping closer and closer to you. he was done beating around the bush; you should know that no matter how many times you push him away, he will never leave you. he'd make up for his mistakes; all you had to do was give him a chance.

you scoffed. "love? you love me?"

he caged you against the opposite counter with two arms on either side of you. "yeah. i do."

you stared up at him, tears staining your cheeks. "you're a liar."

"y/n." he growled—a warning.

"can't go back into the world having the poor little wife weighing on your conscious, is that it?" you snapped. "never stopped you before."

"y/n."

"no." you ducked under his arm, leaving the kitchen. you evaded his attempts to pull you back, running to the closet. grabbing a coat and your purse, you slipped on your shoes.

"where the fuck are you going?" rindou yelled after you. "this conversation isn't over."

"it is for me." you mumbled, throwing the front door open and ignoring the fire in the pit of your stomach. you got into your car and started it up. the garage opened at an agonizing pace, enough time for rindou to come bursting out the door. he stood at your window.

"y/n, you are not leaving. get out of the car."

"fuck off." you grit your teeth, your eyes raising to the rearview mirror to reverse. you screeched to a halt when you saw rindou's purple hair in the reflection. you gaped, rolling down your window and whipping your head to face him. "are you insane? move!"

he shook his head, standing in all his glory right behind the car. his arms were crossed and his weight rested on one hip; the picture of stubbornness. "you're gonna have to run me over."

you scoffed, laughing breathlessly at the absurd situation. "i'll call the police."

"you won't."

you grabbed your phone. "i will, don't try and stop me from leaving."

"you won't call the police, and you wanna know why?" rindou let his head fall to his shoulder. "you love me. i know you do."

you opened your mouth to retort.

"don't even try to deny it." he chuckled lowly. "you're just protecting yourself, baby. you're protecting yourself from the nightmare you call a husband, right?"

your eyes rounded, looking at him with an unreadable expression.

he walked to your side of the car, reaching through the opening to flick the window button. he slipped his hand out as it began to slowly slide back up.

"leave, then. just know i'm not going to stop my efforts to get you back." he smiled as he went back into the house.

the window closed completely.

you were brimming with annoyance, yet you couldn't help but feel a pang of heartache when you pulled out of the driveway, leaving your house—and rindou—behind.

this was so self-indulgent lol. i know they mean well, but when people apologize so quickly and with such intensity, i just get frustrated that i had to get to such a low point to see any remorse or change from them. and of course, i can't argue without crying my eyes out. anyway, do we want a part two?

© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3

[kissitbttr]

dilf!toji giving you a ride back to the party

a small follow up from this !

|

there has been times where you fantasize about hot older men with your friends. all of you agree that they are just better at everything.

you remember this one time when you had a crush on the first older guy you had found attractive. he was your dad’s closest friend. you had always loved admiring him from afar, undressing him with your eyes, imagining how he’d look as he fucks you in your bed. sadly, he’s married. which means, you can’t do anything about it.

one of your friends encouraged you to break it up though, steal him away from his wife in which you reply with a disgusting look on your face. because never in a million years you would stoop that low.

no guys ever came close as your dad’s best friend after that. dismissing every single college guys who tried to get into your pants, tossing every written numbers on a paper from them into a trash can. your ex was the only exception though. why? because he was two years older than you. that counts for something, right?

until now.

you sit rather quiet nervously in the passenger’s seat. fingers drumming slightly against your thick thighs, stealing glances every now and then at the handsome stranger who offered you a ride before,

and boy, does he look so hot doing it.

he leans comfortably against the seat with one hand on the wheel while the other perched on his thigh. looking like a perfect dream

dear god, please do not make me wet tonight

“thank you for the food, sir. i love it” you give him a smile, shoving another fry into your mouth. “i’m starving”

toji cranes his neck to look at you, mirroring your smile. “i thought i told you to call me toji?”

“oh yeah! sorry, i forgot!” you let out a nervous giggle, finger toying with the skirt of your dress. discreetly pulling it down further since it keeps riding up,

“i didn’t catch your name though. mind telling me?” he starts, putting his focus back on the road while taking a turn,

“i’m y/n” you respond to the beautiful dark haired man,

“pretty name for a pretty girl” he compliments, grinning widely at you. chuckling after seeing you blush. “still in college?”

you nod. “mhmm!”

“you like it?”

“pft! as if!” you roll your eyes, making him laugh at your comment. “college is insanity. too much work, but the parties help”

“i bet” he replies, head shaking. “is it like a regular thing?”

“kind of. we always do it once a week, or twice…? can’t exactly count. the frats usually the one who held it, so I can’t really tell” you shrug your shoulders, eyes looking over to the window. “what about you, sir-toji?”

he snorts, running his fingers over his hair and you almost let out a soft gasp.“oh I don’t party, sweetheart. i’m too old for that.”

“can’t be that old” you giggle, reaching out to poke his side with a finger. you don’t know where that confidence comes from, could be from alcohol,

toji raises an eyebrow at the sudden touch, but makes no comment. “i’m pushing 40, so definitely old” he smirks at you,

40..?

oh…

a look of surprise is taking over your face. “really?” you see him nod again in confirmation. “you don’t look like you’re that old”

“how old did you think i am?”

“hmm, 27?”

he barks a laugh, and you never heard something so pretty. “now you’re just being polite, sweetheart”

god, he really is making you swoon with all the terms of endearment . you wonder if he’s married or taken,

“are you single?”

he’s taken aback at the question, eyebrow raising. “why, want to take me out on a date?”

giggling, you toss a hair behind your shoulder before shrugging it. shifting your body to completely facing him now. “maybeee”

toji only laughs at your confidence. the small pouty look you’re giving just makes him want to give you a peck on the lips. maybe two.

you’re so damn cute, he’d give you that.

“yes, i am. divorced about two years ago.”

“oh… what happened? if you don’t mind me asking.”

he shrugs like it’s nothing. “didn’t work out. the whole marriage was draining me. but i got a little boy who i love dearly and would tear down the whole fucking sky for”

he’s got a kid?! holyshit,

“how old is he?”

“just turned two last month” he smiles at the thought of his little megumi sleeping soundly back home. “how about you, sweetheart? got marriage written down on your plan?”

“oh of course! it’s definitely on my bucket list!” you sigh dreamily at the thought of you walking down the aisle. “not any time soon though! i like being like this for a moment”

“good. you enjoy that while it lasts.” he advises. “hate to overstep, but what’s the deal with your ex before?”

hearing that makes your smile drop and body slouch. eyes dropping down to your lap. “oh..”

toji senses that bubbly personality of your is wearing off soon as he mentions that, which causes him to panic. “shit, I didn’t mean to make you sad, darling. sorry. you don’t have to explain”

you shake your head, clearing your throat. “no, no! it’s fine it was just—“ you cut yourself with a sad sigh. “he wanted.. to have sex with me at the party but.. i didn’t want to.. because we were drunk! and it wouldn’t be right for us to do it while we’re drunk, right?! so i told him no… over and over and — he didn’t take it well so… he called me a boring bitch and broke it off..”

his eyebrows deepening hearing that, hand around the wheel tighten at the thought of some lowlife punk trying to force himself at a sweet girl like you to have sex,

“you fucking with me?” his tone rising, seeing you shake your head as a no. “my god that’s not— sweetheart, you know that it was not your fault right? was that why you looked so sad? because you thought that you should’ve gave him what he wanted?”

you toy with the hem of your skirt, still looking down before nodding. “…yes.. because maybe then he wouldn’t be mad”

“no.. oh god, no.. don’t you ever, ever think that. what you did was the right thing, baby. you should be proud for standing up to yourself, you know that?”

slowly you look up to him, seeing his genuine eyes looking into yours. “okay..”

but toji doesn’t buy that, instead he shakes his head. “no, i want to hear you say it, come on. say ‘i did the right thing’”

a smile slowly creeps up to your face while your cheeks are heating up. “tojiii” you whine,

he smiles back at you, “come on. say it”

“i—i did the right thing” you repeat slowly,

“good girl” he praises, and that almost makes your body goes slump and your thighs to squeeze together,

when was the last time someone called you that?

throughout the ride, you and toji talk a lot about each other. from a-z. and you can’t help but admit how refreshing it is to finally have someone to talk to like this. it was a non-stop conversation, accompanied by the soft tunes playing in the background—thanks to your choice of music—

you may not notice this but toji is purposely taking the long way just so the conversation stays a bit longer,hoping you don’t realize what he’s doing. it’s not like you would actually complain, you enjoy his company.

despite your age, toji finds you to be the most interesting woman he has ever met. the way you talk freely and articulate words when you speak to him is so attractive. he loves a woman who has her own opinion on everything and you had just shown him that.

you’re smart, witty, have a great sense of humor and not to mention,

really fucking gorgeous.

toji feels like a downright pervert when he tries to sneak a glance at your soft plump thighs every second. imagining how they would look around his head. or the fat of your tits when you bounce on his cock, giving him the perfect view. and your lips,

god, your pink. glossy . lips.

���is this the place?” he pulls up in front of the big frat house where he can see a few kids standing on the porch, typical red solo cups in their hands. his eyes carefully observe the scene before him. “shit, they’re really getting shit faced huh?”

you laugh, looking over where one kid had puked all over the lawn making you grimace. “they’re not all like that everyday”

“hmm sure, sweetheart” he rolls his eyes, but smile anyways. “be careful now, yeah? you got my number saved?”

nodding, you take one good look at him before unbuckling your seatbelt. “yup! thank you for the ride, toji. you’re a real life saver!”

“don’t mention it. keep an eye out on any one who wants to try something with you. especially your ex. let me know if he’s bothering you, i’ll come quickly as i can” he informs,

your heart feels like its about to jump out of your chest, “i will, thanks again and oh! wait— can i … see you again?”

he quirks an eyebrow at that, a cocky smirk stretches upon his pretty lips causing you to glance down at it,

“you want to?” his finger and thumb softly tapping against the wheel

“i do” you reply quickly, biting down on your lower lip as your hand fiddle against the handle of his car door. “this can’t be the last time, right?”

no, of course not he thinks. because he wants to see you too. if not more than you want to see him. might as well take you out on a date, or a stroll. anything. as long as he gets to see that pretty face of yours longer than just an hour.

“you got it, sweetheart. keep a look out for a text from me, then yeah?” his hand then reach our to grab your other one, giving a soft kiss on the knuckles while maintaining an eye contact with you,

you let out a shaky breathe with a small cute smile as he rubs his thumb against your skin. before you can even move your hand to open the door, he does it for you. shooting you another smile of his.

you grab your purse and climb out of the vehicle, waving your hand at him. “good night , toji”

“goodnight, y/n. i’ll see you very soon” he winks before you close the door and see himself drive off,

you stand there for a while with a bright smile on your face that never seems to leave,

you really can’t wait to see him again

—

next part, first date?👀

a/n: also, planning to make this into a series <3

taglist:

@fushipurro

@crocodilethesir

@chilichopsticks

@trentknd

@tojis-ball-sack

@hellokittyloverrxox

@xavlyzn

[thesilmarillionblog]

𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭: 𝟓

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: You and Soldier Boy want to create a family and move on from everything, even the Vought, but you also know that he has to face Homelander one last time to keep his vow to Butcher. However, nothing turns out as you had hoped.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: Heavy angst, hurt, memory loss, Soldier Boy gets hurt, reader gets hurt, language

Word Count: 6025

A/N: English is not my first language.

This is inspired by the song 'Remembrance' by Memoria Futuri.༊

Soldier Boy promised to help you remember him, so you and him took your time in the room for some time more, and you thought twice about what to do next. The most powerful Supe would never lie to you about you having a relationship with him in the past; it would be absurd. He had no reason for lying to an ordinary person. Still, you were afraid he might use you to track Butcher and the others. Even so, you had to proceed with caution. 

You politely interrupted him to not ruin the mood by saying, “Don't get mad, but I still need to talk to Butcher first and ask him about... us and learn why he wouldn't tell me about you.”

His hands immediately left your face after you had said Butcher a hundred times, and you carried on speaking until he said something offensive: “I know you hate them, and it's them who betrayed you. At least that's what you're telling me, but I must listen to him as well. You have to realize that I'm confused and frightened, and he's the only person I can remember.”

He looked around the room, irritated that you remembered Butcher but not him, despite the fact that you shared a lot with him. You placed your hands on the hard, cold material on his chest, on the star symbol, to show him that you weren't too distant or that you weren't pushing him away from you straight away. You waited patiently for his response. Without a doubt, Ben was more significant and unique than Butcher and everyone else to him, and he tried not to get angry. 

With a cold voice and an irritated expression on his face, Soldier Boy remarked, “I can't believe you actually remember that pussy, but not me. I don't like how your brain works at that point.”

“I'm trying so hard to remember you, or at least a little something about you, but I'm just not successful. It's not that I forgot everything on purpose,” you whispered, feeling a little guilty about the idea that you might, your old self, actually love him if what he said was true. 

On the other hand, you had no feelings of love or affection for Soldier Boy. In reality, though, you were scared because he appeared to be unpredictable and cruel. Even if you lost all memory of him, wouldn't you still love him? When you were having memory loss, you had no idea how the brain functions, but that's what you felt at the time. 

Rapidly, “I know, I know,” Soldier Boy replied. “I'm not angry with you or putting blame on you. However, that son of a bitch needs to pay for what he did to you, including throwing your body against the table, hitting your head, and not telling you about me. He crossed the line.”

You added, “He must have a reason, and I really need to talk to him. I just need to hear it from him too,” feeling concerned at the way Soldier Boy discussed the past as though Butcher was the evil guy. Still, you didn't find anything you said to be slightly reasonable. Instead of keeping what happened to you a secret from you, he could have told you that both you and Soldier Boy had a past and given you the explanation you deserved. 

“Don't you trust me?” He was annoyed that you would continue to stand up for Butcher in the face of him. 

“To be honest, I don't trust you, but please don't get upset with me.” You whispered, “You know I have no memory about you, and I need you to understand me,” and he gave you a hurt look. You tried to smile at him and said, “But I think you'd already killed me the moment you found me in this room if I was a total stranger to you,” as guilt filled your heart. “That must mean something, right?”

With a surprised low laugh and a nod, Soldier Boy said, “You're a smartass, aren't you?”

Uncontrollably, his smile made you feel a little more at ease, and you exhaled a sigh of relief that he wasn't being aggressive anymore. 

“So, talking about trust issues,” he added, arching an eyebrow. “I guess you don't want to go back to them since there is a high possibility that I would follow you and find your precious pussy friends, right?”

“Yeah,” you said, not wanting to risk the lives of others or anything because Soldier Boy was too determined to kill them. “In this case, I think I better call Butcher and talk to him through the phone.”

He nodded, “Very well,” relieved that you were no longer so keen to return to the traitors. It was certainly because he had threatened to murder them, but which reason wasn't important at the time. When you were so confused and bewildered, he would never allow you to return to them. You were obviously brainwashed by Butcher. 

You looked around and said, “Okay, I'll call him, but you can get me out of here first?”  as he waited patiently for you to call them. “You know, there are other politicians and supes.”

“Yeah, it's better we get the fuck out of here now,” he said with irritation. “I hate discussing politics anyway. Personal matters should come first, right?” Soldier Boy said, giving you a wink and picking up the gun off the table and putting on his suit again.

You nodded to him and adjusted your jeans. You flushed under his focused gaze, remembering how he had torn off your panties simply to spill himself on moments before. It was as though his gaze were stripping you. As he found out about your memory loss and that you didn't require intimacy, you hoped he wouldn't try to touch you again. After all, you had given him what he desired from you—that is, protection from harm. Nothing more. 

As he observed you adjusting your t-shirt and hair while blushing, Soldier Boy added in a hard, serious voice, “By the way, we'll talk about your that hand job later.”

You simply looked at him with a flushed face, not answering him. 

“Let's just leave without paying any attention to this house. Stay cool.” He heard your heart race and raised an eyebrow as if to warn you, saying, “I'll be following you.”

One of the politicians commented, “Ah, he's finally back,” as he sipped his drink and waived his hand to Soldier Boy as you walked by his side during your exit from the room. 

“It's unfortunate that I have to leave now, gentleman. There is so much to do,” said Soldier Boy, putting a slight grin on his face and placing a small hand on your back. “Homelander will be available shortly, and he'll be the one to talk to you about details.”

You exhaled a relieved sigh, and politicians didn't even look at you as if you didn't exist. You would have assumed that they were already enjoying themselves without Soldier Boy because they were eating anything the waiters brought. 

“Homelander just told me that we would be talking to you too,” one of them remarked. “The public is still worried about you returning given what you did in New York. Things are difficult to restore, especially when it comes to trust.”

“Trust is overrated; it's simply built on perfect lies. Also, who the hell cares about the public? I thought you were more experienced and smarter than this. Through the media and a well-written dumb speech, it's simple to dominate their thoughts.” Soldier Boy spoke harshly, “You already know that they are unable to view the bigger picture properly in their own narrow worlds. What's important is to find who's responsible for planning assassination against the vice president, find those terrorists Butcher and his useless team, and prove that the CIA is behind all of the shit.”

“And,” Soldier Boy said in an authoritative tone as one of the politicians opened his mouth to speak. “It will be exposed that the CIA was responsible for my forty years of fucking torture in Russia. The public will discover the truth in this way, and they will once more support their one true supe. That's how we rescue our nation from the trash that's been dumped on it. Are we clear about this?”

After a brief glance around, you noticed that The Deep and Black Noir were eating and conversing as though they were starving. You thought about if it would be simple to shoot Noir without drawing notice, and you still had your gun with you. Well, you have to do this anyhow. It was likely that by keeping Soldier Boy a secret from you, Butcher had actually betrayed you. But it wasn't like you were prepared to abandon them and simply join Homelander and Soldier Boy on their own wicked team. Not fucking way.

You have to use the virus on a strong person quickly enough to start developing it. But first, you had to take care of your own issue. 

One of them said, “But..”

“No buts, no deals, no mercy,” Soldier Boy interrupted him right away. “Homelander will handle the majority of the problem on his own. With the exception of the CIA and their pawns, of course, neither Vought nor I want to see bloodshed, but it's best to bring things under control as soon as possible. Remember that President, Vought, and Homelander are trusted by the public. It's best if you give it your all. Consider this a recommendation or warning—I don't give a damn. However, be aware that the president will always back us. I mean, I'll be giving my best for my beloved nation, isn't that right?” Soldier Boy patted the politician's shoulder as he spoke, who was trying to get free of Soldier Boy's cruel and tight hold on him while clearing his throat nerveously.

“Yes, without a doubt, we are going to help you fix your public image. It is quite unfortunate that you are one of the victims of the CIA. It's simple to mislead the public about your intentions by the media,” remarked the other politician, who was casually sipping his whiskey and acting as though Soldier Boy hadn't just threatened them. “We are all in the same ship.”

Soldier Boy grinned broadly and added, “Vey good,” patting the politician's shoulder once more before he stepped back, clearly indicating he wasn't willing to spend time talking for hours. “I guess we are done here.”

Calling out to Black Noir and The Deep, Soldier Boy surveyed his surroundings. You stepped back and briefly locked eyes with Soldier Boy. When he saw that you were becoming anxious, his gaze softened, but he remained silent and did not move.

Squeezing Black Noir's shoulder firmly, Soldier Boy remarked, “The Deep and Black Noir, my old loyal friend from the Seven, will be discussing details.”

You were startled and alarmed when The Deep briefly locked eyes with you, but you ignored him and walked carefully toward the door, knowing that Soldier Boy was almost done with them. You were relieved that no one paid you any attention or questioned you. All of them showed interest in chatting with Soldier Boy.

“Are you okay?” whispered Soldier Boy as you waited for him outside, and you shivered when you felt his hand on your back.

You lied, “Yeah, sure,” and he instantly withdrew his hands.

It irritated him that you had become such a liar. “You must know that my Supe hearing can detect when you are lying to me,” he stated. You used to be different from this, and you always told him the truth about everything. particularly in regards to your current state of mind.

Even though you were the same person, it was difficult to accept that you had changed somewhat. But something has changed about you, and that's when Ben started to get upset. He had best to do anything needed to make you remember everything.

He shot you a cold look, and you said, “What will you do if I say, 'No, I'm not feeling good'?”

“At least I'd know you are being honest.”

With a quick smile, you said, “Well, remember that I don't even know you,” as if it didn't matter what you might have shared in the past.

Soldier Boy gave you a grumpy and unhappy look before gently pushing you to the car. After you left the supe-filled house, there was silence between you in the car.

Thinking about how he talked to the politicians, you felt uneasy and disturbed. You couldn't stop thinking about what kind of person you were and loved Soldier Boy if he was right about you being something months ago.

“What's happening in your head right now?” Soldier Boy finally asked you after giving you a look while you were driving. as if he were whispering.

This time, you said honestly, saying, “I was thinking about the way you talked to the politicians,” unwilling to ignore it and feeling a little more brave around him because he didn't appear to be a threat to you.

“And?”

You shifted in your seat, and you managed to ask, “Is it true that you are going to really team up with Homelander?” after giving it some thought.

Since he had a personal issue with Butcher and the others and was now filled with a desire for vengeance, you could try to understand him about them. However, it didn't seem proper to team up with the worst Supe alive and carry on doing out vile acts for evil people on behalf of evil people in positions of power. All it was was modern-day slavery.

“Are you having a problem with that?”

You shook in your seat at that moment, unable to speak for a long time due to the extreme coldness of his voice.

“Of course!” you replied, raising your voice slightly as if his question were the most ridiculous thing ever. Your former self could not possibly approve of the way he handled the Vought and Homelander crises. “What makes you even want to work with him? Even though he is biologically your son, he is still cruel and vile, just another Vought toy.”

“What do you expect me to do?” He raised his voice a bit as well, unhappy about how your voice sounded critical and icy toward him.

“Well, you don't have to allow people to take advantage of your strength simply because you hate Butcher and the others. If Butcher truly betrayed you like you told me, anyone could do so at any time; Homelander, politicians, and Vought included especially.”

“Even you?” he asked quietly, seemingly interested in finding out what you thought of him.

You were about to say yes, but you kept your mouth quiet out of fear for his reaction. Ben sighed, disturbed by your overly cautious and controlled acts next to him, as he realized that. It was as though you had truly vanished, as though he was speaking to someone else. He sensed then that even though you were with him at that same moment, by his side, he was still missing you. You were just with him physically. He realized then that he had to find you again and help you remember what you had. It nearly disturbed him to have that cautious, angry woman without memory by his side. He felt guilt filling his heart when he gave you an odd look. He had to be more understanding and soft toward you and not let his hatred for Butcher take over.

Soldier Boy simply said, “Things changed. You must choose a side no matter what time. Despite knowing that Homelander was actually my son, I had Butcher swear to murder Homelander. I was prepared to murder him until Butcher attacked me.”

You firmly stated, “He would never stop anyone from killing Homelander,” knowing full well that Butcher despised Homelander.

“It appears that you either don't recall everything about him or don't know everything about him. Do you even recall that Homelander's wife had a son?”

You exclaimed, “What?” in shock, thinking he was going to lie to you.

“Go ahead, give him a call, and ask about Ryan, his wife's son,” Soldier Boy added, flashing you a cunning smile.

“It seems like he didn't tell you.” Not surprised that Butcher was taking rather too long to tell you the truth about what actually took place, Soldier Boy asked with a slight smile. “And you still trust him, but not me.”

You kept calling Butcher every single time, and you said, “He's not answering my calls,” in a hurt voice. You had the option to call the others as well, but at that moment, all you wanted and needed was to talk to Butcher, and his lack of response was leading you to believe that Soldier Boy had been telling you the whole truth.

With a heavy heart, you placed your phone in your pocket and showed him how weak you were by holding yourself back from crying suddenly with your hands by your sides. When you were with Soldier Boy, you had no idea what kind of person he was, but you didn't want him to see you were that vulnerable, at least.

Butcher's betrayal was not quite as heavy as Kimiko's. When she knew you weren't even a Supe, why would she even leave you with Soldier Boy? If he had believed that you had deceived him as well, he might have hurt you. You believed that you had become friends with her. She must have known you for a very long period as well. The realization that she had been lying to you hit you even harder.

Confidently,  “Of course he won't answer,” remarked Soldier Boy. “He must be planning what to say to you and how to tell fresh lies to deceive you, leaving you even more confused.”

“He doesn't need to take any action in this case.” You said in a sour voice, “I don't think you're a good person at all after hearing you there and listening to the way you talked to those people.” You could not possibly just accept him collaborating with Homelander.

He gave you a tender glance and stated, “You love me,” without even trying to understand what you were trying to convey. “You, Butcher, and everyone else are aware of that. When you remember about us, we can have a proper conversation, alright?”

Ben was just bothered by the weight on his chest, which gave him the impression that you were a shapeshifter even if you weren't. Even though he was in love with you, he couldn't shake the unpleasant feeling that was eating him alive. It felt like he was trying reaching out to the real you that was hidden inside your body when he tried to speak with you. It was hard with your aloof,

nervous, and icy gaze. It was always easy to persuade him because of your understanding and kind tone, even when you two had previously had some disagreements. But now everything was different.

Saying with a sigh, “I don't know what kind of person I was before my memory loss, but I'm positive that I don't, and I can't be with you. I don't know if I'll be able to retrieve my memory, but if not, my feelings for you won't change. You are cruel.”

You were about to add something, but, “That's not what you really think of me,” he cut you off. “Let's simply spend the night somewhere tonight and talk to the greatest doctors who can help you tomorrow in the morning. We both need some rest. We'll get through this,” Soldier Boy assured you, quickly putting your hand in your lap and giving it a gentle squeeze to demonstrate his patience and sympathy.

With a strange expression on your face, you questioned, “What if I don't?” as your thumb lightly brushed across the surface of his hand. “What if I never remember anything about myself, you, or us despite all effort, even if the doctors and I do our best?”

“I gave you my promise,” he murmured, trying to show confidence and self-assurance as if there was no other option. “All you need is the best medical and psychological care possible. I'm everything you need. Not with Butcher's lies, nor any other person's. Me alone.”

You wanted to believe him at that vulnerable time, even though you could never be certain of the kind of person he genuinely was with you in the past. You wanted to think that he loved you more than anyone else. Looking at his powerful hands, which might have killed you in an instant, you held back your smile, seeing those hands were holding yours gently. You couldn't stop thinking about giving it a shot, but you didn't want to be too close or too far away from him. Given how simple it was for him to swap sides, he was obviously a cruel Supe, similar to Homelander, but perhaps you could change things.

“Since you were unfamiliar with me an hour earlier,” he added, changing the topic. “Why were you alone yourself on the third floor? You were there because Butcher assigned you another foolish and risky mission? Sending you there as if you were some prey?”

You lowered your gaze to the point where your hands touched and said, “You already know the answer,” as he looked at you.

“He's too fucking brilliant or too stupid to send you to me. I have to admit you had me distracted. If he had another plan in his stupid head by sending you to distract me, he is most likely successful.”

You said, “Butcher actually had no idea you were going to be there.”

“So you're saying I was lucky to find you, huh?” Soldier Boy winked at you and continued driving, barely checking at the road. You were afraid of him because of how careless he drove. He wouldn't die in a car crash, but you most certainly would. “I must confess that I was able to recognize your voice from the one noise you made up there. I suppose my supersensitive hearing was overly sensitive to you these days.”

He asked again, curious, when you failed to respond, “Why were you there? What would you do with that adorable little gun of yours that's still attached to your adorable pants?”

You instantly replied, straightening your t-shirt and widening your eyes. “Nothing!”

“Don't get excited; you can keep that useless gun with you, baby, if it will make you feel better,” he remarked simply, becoming annoyed when you immediately withdrew your hands from him.

“It's just a gun, nothing more.”

You attempted to sound calm and collected, but you were sweating and your heart was racing, so he could know you were lying to him again. Surprisingly, though, he remained silent and didn't make you tell him the details—for which you were grateful.

“Okay, keep that tiny, adorable toy if it makes you feel more secure. For the record, I can defend you more effectively than anyone, but I must warn you that hiring a Supe to keep you safe from criminals is incredibly pricey.”

This time, when he smirked and spoke to you in a lighthearted way, you couldn't stop giggling.

You laughed in response to his amusement, saying, “I need to think about this.”

“By the way, why in the world did you give me a hand job there while you really didn't even know who I was?”

Attempting to act cool, you crossed your arms over your chest when Soldier Boy brought up the intimate subject between you, drawing your hands to yourself and making a flushed face. This time, his tone was a little more stern and cold instead of playful.

“You made an attempt to take me there. It appeared to be an escape route.” You defended yourself. You were certain that your face blushed crimson.

“Fuck, baby,” he sighed in annoyance. “Of course I wouldn't force myself on you if you simply said 'no' and explained your situation to me.”

“How on earth could I be knowledgeable about that? I was frightened when a supe tried to take me on a table since you seemed so determined to take anything you wanted there.” You raised your voice to try to win him over. You weren't even brave enough to act reasonably there.

“What if someone else was attempting to... and it wasn't me? Fuck. I'd rather not even think about it. Now that you are sitting in your seat without your underwear, look what happened. I must admit, though, that I really enjoyed your little handiwork.”

Soldier Boy must have seen your heart racing uncontrollably again, because he said these things to either make you feel shy or excited.

You asked abruptly, hoping to annoy him with a hint of harshness mixed with curiosity, “And how on earth you couldn't tell I was lying if your supe hearing is too sensitive when I said I missed you too, because I was definitely lying?”

He added in a sour voice, “I was too fucking horny to focus if your heart beat was racing because of excitement or lying, sweetheart,” dismissing the fact that you had lied to him about missing him and ignoring the burise on his pride. “Who knows? Maybe both.”

You felt guilty as you noticed the lighthearted tone in his voice fade into a sort of sorrowful glimpse. He was aware that you were going through memory loss and that you weren't truly missing him or anything. It wasn't your fault, of course, but since he was your former personality's boyfriend and not your own, you wanted to cheer him up right now even if you didn't know how. It was hard to believe that you were the same real person as before, but you had the impression that your memories of him were more important to him than you were.

You whispered to him, observing his expression. “But if I were the same person as I was months before, I'm certain I would miss you. Of course, that is, if we were a real thing.”

When Soldier Boy saw that you were trying your hardest to cheer him up, he lit up with you a tiny smile to let you know he appreciated it. Your genuine behavior, sensitivity, and compassion were still present, at least.

He said, “It's okay,” with such firmness that you remained silent until you got there. “I just want you to be honest with me.”

You were unaware that he had been holding your hand the entire time.

When you realized that they had decided to stay in the house that Butcher had brought you to a few days prior, you asked in a hushed voice, “Why?” in shock. It was the home you most likely spent several months living in.

You knew that Butcher had told you to leave when he found out Soldier Boy was free since Soldier Boy had also must have lived in this house for a while.

“I promised to help you to recover.” He whispered, “We have to start somewhere,” and quietly closed the door while urging you inside. “This seems like a good place to start. It is too full with memories for us.”

You said, “Butcher told us to leave this home as soon as he knew you were free,” obviously not wanting to reveal too much.

“I thought so,” Soldier Boy agreed, unable to stop thinking about Butcher's cunning ways and how he did everything in his power to keep you away from him, and he angrily remarked, “He balls are not big enough to confront me.” You could never be taken from him. No fucking way.

You inquired, “Do we have good memories in here?” not knowing if he would be completely honest with you.

“Both good and bad. It took us a while to really start a relationship,” Ben said, remembering the unpleasant moments when he was being mean to you, and you found it simple to tell him how you felt, but he wasn't as ready as you were to do so. “Good memories were also there, though. In the last three or two months, we managed to work it out. It wasn't like we were toxic or something. Mostly.”

You only mumbled, “Hmm,” as you tried to imagine your relationship in your thoughts.

You followed upstairs without saying anything more, feeling the need to return to the room where you were assured it wasn't important. You wondered if your feelings would change if you spent time with Soldier Boy this time.

With a sigh of relief, Ben followed you there and watched you go to the room where he had spent months. He experienced discomfort and agony at the same time since you could remember the room where he stayed even though you were completely unaware of it.

Even if you forgot about him and everything you had, a piece of your love was still there, clinging to him and refusing to let go. Your body had its own thoughts about him.

“What did you choose this room?” As you closed the door behind you, Soldier Boy asked softly, hoping you would recall one small detail about him.

The emptiness and silence in the room created the same heavy sensation that was tearing at your spirit and couldn't even be named. It was a heavy feeling that filled your heart with aching thoughts. You knew it was important even if you weren't sure if it was the nothingness or the silence that affected you that hard.

“I found myself in this room when Butcher brought me from the hospital to this house.” You mumbled, “I don't even know why,” unable to contain your own sadness.

“And?” Soldier Boy asked, forcing himself to suppress a proud smile at your remarks.

“I'm not sure why, but I had a very depressing, possibly saddened feeling that I can't quite describe. All I can recall is that that evening, I cried all as I fell to sleep.”

Ben kept coming toward you, hugging you tightly from behind and kissing the back of your head firmly, all with a heavy heart. Your hands brushed his rough ones on your lower abdomen, but you avoided pushing him since you believed that being near to him would help your brain function. Nothing compared to how close and intense it was.

Saying in a rough, whispery voice, “This is the room I've been in for months,” he said. “You actually spent a lot of time in this room with me; we had many wonderful moments together. Your body must have a memory of its own.”

“I really tried hard, but...” you began to defend yourself, not sure for what, but he interrupted you right away with understanding.

“I know, I know.”

With a shy glance, you were able to save yourself from Soldier Boy just after you had a moment of silence. You clearly needed rest after such a difficult and stressful day.

You said, hoping to change the conversation and find out what his intentions were about tonight: “Will we stay the night here? I should mention that you have nothing to wear. The entire wardrobe appears to have been emptied. But I'll search Kimiko's room for something for myself.”

“Yes, we definitely will. Also, that's not a big deal,” he muttered as he hurriedly began to remove the cloth covering his chest and place it on the table.

Thoughts raced through your head as you held your breath for a moment. It appeared that a discussion regarding the best course of action was required.

With the knowledge that Soldier Boy was determined about sleeping by your side, you changed your clothes after finding clean underwear in Kimiko's room. God, you thought he might try to fuck you again after you had given him a handjob two hours earlier. This time, you believed that handwork would not be sufficient. You needed to speak with him in a serious tone.

You had no idea how your sex life with him would be, and you didn't think he would force you or anything, but he was still a supe, your so-called ex-lover or whatever. The situation was simply awkward. You had to let him know that you were different now. When you walked into the room, he was examining every inch of you while wearing a sly smirk.

With a trembling voice, you stated, “Well, I guess I need to be clear about something.” You really tried to sound tough and confident. It was becoming difficult to maintain your composure, though, under his playful gaze as he removed his jeans and boots. “I must tell you that I don't want any sexual stuff because, as you know, I can't recall a single thing about us. Until I regain my memories, you are, at the very least, a complete stranger to me.”

Ben grunted in exhaustion as he lay on the bed, rolling his eyes and holding back a smile in response to your explanation. You watched him nervously, waiting for an answer.

“Actually, I had no intention to,” he remarked honestly. “Of course, I still love you and want to give you a good fuck very much, we both need that, but you know, you kind of feel like a different person now. I suppose we need to go through this quickly so you will remember us. When things get back to normal in our relationship, that's when I'll give you a big, deep fuck, so you better heal quickly.”

His lighthearted remarks about how you were like someone else to him didn't make you feel better—in fact, they kind of broke your heart—but at least he was serious about staying away from you, which was good. What you shared in the room hours ago was already too much.

You turned your back on him and felt his naked upper body moving closer to yours instantly, but you remained motionless. You simply awaited his next action.

Once more, the hands of Soldier Boy stroked your lower abdomen, drawing you even closer to him and pressing your back against his bare and warm chest. You felt his power on your back. Uncontrollably, your hand contacted his rough one to see whether he would react to you and to feel something toward him. Although they were warm, rough, and understanding, surprisingly, his hands were not forceful.

He mumbled to your ear, wanting you to make yourself remember what you had. “We used to spend most of our time here, lying like this for months, for many nights,” he said.

Your hands lingered on his hands and said nothing, and he went on, “I miss you so much.” His tone was achingly sharp.

The way he'd said it, with his firm voice as though he was talking to someone else, was supposed to make you feel better, but it didn't. You wondered if he would still love and care for you, even if you felt like a stranger to him and you couldn't remember anything about him. With that kind of personality, wouldn't he love you? He had loved and missed the other side of you that he had been missing.

There was no more space between you two as he held you near to him; your back felt the warmth of his bare, powerful and warm chest, but you were agonizingly too distant to stay close and way too cold.

Next Chapter

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A/N: Comments are very much appreciated. They keep me going. ^.^

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[onelittlespiral]

Tf where someone's huge musky cock keeps turning others into massive muscle bros on accident?

FML: Cursed

Up front, I’ll say this one’s a bit different. Let me know if you all like it. -❤️

Everything was too bright. My head was pounding. Memories were fading in and out from last night. Fuck, how much did I have to drink last night? I stumbled out of bed, trying to forced myself towards the bathroom to take a piss. I had made a New Year’s resolution to quit the bottle. Yeah, so much for that. I managed a quick piss and splashed some cold water on my face. That helped a bit. At this point all I wanted to do was bury my head back in my pillow. Slowly, I shuffled back towards my bed:

“Yeah? You coming back for more of this?”

A man. A man was in my bed. A hunk of a man was flexing in my bed. My mouth hung open for a moment as my brain chugged to life. I couldn’t quite believe it.

“…God damn it! Uggh, what did I let happen?”

“What, not in the mood? I can be quite,” he started a little pec dance, “persuasive.”

I was not in a mood to be amused by his flirting. “No, no it’s not you-or at least it is you now but-” I stammered, “Look. It’s complicated. Get up, please, I need you out of here. If you take some time to… cool off… it should pass.” I paused a moment, “I’m sorry.”

Quickly, I started pulling together what clothes I could find that would fit his new stature and tossed them at him. Even facing away from him I could tell he was a little taken aback. I’m sure in his current brain he couldn’t quite believe he was being rejected. But I knew it was better for everyone that he leave now. I scooped up his old clothing and threw it all into a tote. It wasn’t his fault he was here in this situation, getting kicked out of a stranger’s house early in the morning. Maybe that’s why I scribbled down my contact info and slipped it into the bag. He would have questions later, he deserved some answers. By now he had managed to put on the cut off tank and the shorts I had thrown him. The shorts were a size too small and left nothing to the imagination, but it would have to work. I doubted his canvas shoes would fit over those behemoths. He would have to go barefoot. After a few awkward pleasantries where he asked me if we should lift together some time and I politely declined, he finally got the message and slipped out the door. I locked it behind him and slumped to the floor. I still had a headache.

It was going to be a long day. At this point I was awake, so I just decided to hit the shower. The steam helped clear my mind so I could try to piece the night together. It had been two years now and it was still happening. I wish I knew how to stop it. But looking back, I’m not sure what else I could have done. Every time it happened though, every time I saw his face, I just replayed that day again in my mind:

We were sitting at our favorite cafe when I broke the news.

“What do you mean? You’re breaking up with me?” my ex boyfriend was stunned. Truly, I don’t think this had ever happened to him before.

“Please don’t act surprised. We both knew this was coming. We aren’t good for each other.”

“Baby, we aren’t good for each other,” he cooed, leaning over and cupping my jaw, “We’re great together. You can’t pretend to deny it. I can feel that cock twitch, hear every moan when you’re inside me. Come on, let’s go home and I’ll bring you to your knees.”

“No. This isn’t about us in bed. This is everything outside of it. I don’t like how you talk to me, how you treat me, how you touch me,” I said, slapping his hand from my face, “and how you treat everyone in the world as your plaything. I just can’t put up with it anymore.”

That finally set him off, “Oh, you have no idea what I can do.” He snapped his fingers.

I watched as a man in a suit next to us dropped his book. He began to convulse, and I watched in horror. He reverted from his fifties to his late twenties in a moment, smoothing his wrinkles as his hair turned from silver to brown. His skin tightened around his swelling body, as his muscles easily ripped through his shirt and pants. A deep moan escaped his mouth as his clothes reformed themselves into a tank top and gym shorts. As a snap-back hat formed and tightened around his head, I grimaced, knowing that his mind was being assaulted with a new identity. I knew the look on his face well as drool flowed from his open mouth. Then, all at once it stopped. He just picked up his book and kept reading. No one else even seemed to notice what had taken place.

It was a thinly veiled threat and we both knew it. “See? This is the shit I’m talking about. What happens to him now? He had nothing to do with this, you just can’t contain yourself.”

“Oh relax, he’s fine. I didn’t dumb him like I do to you. No one will ever remember anything different. Though I imagine whatever new hires at his firm will be confused why the new boss is a jacked gym bro while everyone else in the office is pushing 40 and wearing suits.” He chuckled at his own joke.

“I can’t! I can’t do this anymore. I don’t ever want to see you again.” I gathered my things to make my exit.

He came round the table, in a far less joking mood, “You’ll regret that,” he grabbed at my groin and cupped my package, “from now on, whenever that gets going, I have a feeling you will be seeing a lot of me” I felt a stirring in my sack. Something had… shifted?

“What did you do?” my shouting had finally drawn the attention of onlookers.

“Good luck, baby. You ever want that resolved, you’ll have to find me.” With that, he turned heel and left.

Now, two years later, he was right. I had seen far too much of him. The water had gone cold. I turned the faucets off and stepped out to dry myself off.

The first time had been a shock. I had given myself time to heal from the relationship, but about two months in I decided to head to a bar. Immediately something was off when I entered. I saw a few old flings, and a friend or two who were surprised to see me there. But it was like when I entered the whole place shifted towards me. Men were buying me drinks and fawning for my attention. The bartender even slipped a few comments in. They all looked smitten with me, trying to get just a little closer. By the end of the night I had some twink sitting in my lap. I decided it was time to blow off some steam. I took him to my place, where he immediately began tearing off my clothes inside the door. I managed to get him back to my bedroom before he had my boxers off. Immediately he buried his nose into my bush. Admittedly I hadn’t been keeping shaved since the breakup, and I guess that was doing it for him. He went to town on my cock. I wasn’t prepared for him to take it in one thrust, but he wasn’t waiting. All I could do was grab his hair and hold on as he worked my cock like a pro. I felt his hair curl beneath my fingers as I held on for the ride, moaning as he pushed all my buttons. He knew just when to pull back to keep me edging, his thick fingers holding on as he devoured my cock. Finally I knew I needed to fuck him. I pulled him off of my cock, but as he stood up and his dazed expression met mine I screamed.

“Fuck baby, where have you been all of my life?” he said.

He was the spitting image of my ex. The hair, the muscle, even that stupid nickname. In shock I pushed him away as he gave me a look of confusion.

“What are you doing here? I told you I never wanted to see you again.”

He looked back at me confused, “What are you talking about? We just met like a few hours ago. You invited me over. Sorry.”

Something about the statement rang true. I only realized later it was because he apologized. My ex would never. “Did he put you up to this? What’s your name?”

“Hey, I’m not sure who you’re talking about, okay? I’m Justin. I was just looking for a good time.”

“Have you seen yourself? You don’t look like the twink I met at the bar.” I retorted

He looked in the mirror, and his face seemed to puzzle for a sec. I knew that look. He was trying to reconcile memories he had. Fake memories. Then he smirked, “Yeah, pretty hot right? I’ve been working out, getting that more twunk look going.”

So he was clueless then. It was weird seeing someone look so much like him, and have a mix of his mannerisms and others. He had certainly made sure his cockiness was implemented. The asshole.

“Look, I’m not sure tonight is going to work out. I need you out of here. Now.” That was a little mean, it wasn’t his fault. But he had to go. I gave him some of my ex’s clothes he had left lying around and pushed him out the door without saying goodnight. It was only next week when I went to the bar that I saw him again. He had seemingly gone back to normal, besides a very distinctive mustache and stubble he was growing now. It didn’t fit his thin, hairless body and it made me chuckle…

*BZZZZZT*

My phone was getting a call from an unknown number. I guess it was time to answer some questions:

-Hey, I found this number in my bag. This the guy from last night?

*Sigh*

-Yeah, it’s me. Are you, uh, feeling better? More… yourself?

-So I’m not crazy! What was that? What happened?

-I am so so so sorry. It’s a long story. Let’s just say my ex is… a looot.

-Well hey, who’s isn’t?

I chuckled

-You’re taking this surprisingly well. Most guys don’t want to look at me after all this.

-So this has happened before?

-Yes. But I promise I didn’t mean to. I must have gotten too drunk last night, and I know that’s not a good excuse. But I’m not sure what to do about it and at this point I’d starting to think I never will

-Woah, woah. Calm down. Would you want someone to come over? To talk to?

I paused.

-No, I think I’ll be fine.

-Please, I want to. I want answers and it seems like you need someone.

-I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Plus, I don’t think I can see you like that.

-I promise. I don’t think I have anything the same.

-Promise?

-Here, look

He did look back to normal. And he was quite cute. I can see why drunk me decided to pick him…

-Still, I’m not sure…

-Nope, it’s decided. I know the address, I’ll be there later tonight around 6. *click*

What had just happened? I think, against all odds, I just got roped into a second date.

God damn it.

[evagreen-stories]

The Forest Beauty | (Aemond x f!modern!reader) (part 1/?)

Summary: time traveler decides to live her new life out in the kingswood, avoiding the new world she finds herself in until an encounter with a certain one-eyed prince changes her life.

Warnings: dark!themes, dark!aemond, obsessive!aemond, book!aemond, no intimacy (smut starts with part 2), intro and first part are kinda a slow burn to introduce the storyline & character

Non-Canon Storyline: 3 years post war – greens won, Aegon's only son was k*lled and only has two daughters remaining, he cannot produce more heirs, Helaena is alive but depressed,Aemond serves as prince regent ever since Aegon got injured during the war and is chronically sick and getting weaker, Aemond is to inherit the iron throne soon, Aemond k*lled Alys Rivers along with all other strongs, Aemond broke the betrothal to Floris Baratheon when he became Prince Regent and won the war (Also, I'm not a native english speaker, please be patient with me)

Divider @targaryen-dynasty

< intro masterlist part 2 > (coming soon)

You wander around the woods, returning from another day of working in the city and coming closer and closer to your home when you start to feel uneasy, as if you’re not alone in the forest. You stop and listen, noticing the sound of footsteps close by. With careful steps you approach the sounds, noticing a head full of silvery hair between the trees and watching it carefully.

A man with an eyepatch, dressed in black leather clothes and carrying a long, sheathed sword on his hip. You monitor him carefully; his hands behind his back as he is gazing out into the treeline, he seems to be taking a stroll. But this deep within the forest?

You stalk him for a while, trailing his steps as you make sure to stay hidden. Too busy with staring at him you don't notice a branch on the ground, stepping on it and causing a loud *krack* sound.

The silver haired stranger turns around quickly, facing you and making eye contact. You know it's too late to hide now, as his lilac eye meets yours and a wicked smile forms on his lips

“Hello there, little one. Are you lost?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” You say, looking him up and down more closely now. He doesn’t look like someone that should be wandering this deep into the forest. You notice the tell-tale signs of a Targaryen. You’ve heard of them and noticed a few children with these features when you explored the street of silk once. But who exactly was this man standing in front of you right now?

His mouth twitches, eyes twinkling with mirth. “Oh, I am not lost, little lamb. Simply having a nice stroll to take my mind off the stress of ruling. May I ask who I have the pleasure of finding so deep in the woods?”

“No, you may not.” You answer, staying wary of the stranger. You’re starting to connect the emblems on his clothes and scabbard with the ones you’ve seen on royal guards patrolling the city before, this man must be one of the princes. “You should leave. These woods aren’t a place for a pretty prince like you.”

“My, my, my. So confrontational. Why the defensiveness, my beautiful little lamb? Are you hiding something?” He steps closer to you, his voice now has a hint of danger in it.

“No one wanders this part of the woods. You’re better suited closer to the city.” You say, trying to sound more polite than before, quickly understanding the prince might not appreciate the disrespect.

“Ah, yes, no one wanders this part of the woods. Well, that only makes me wonder how a pretty little lamb like you got herself as deep in here as I did. Unless, of course, you are not alone.” His eye leaves yours, scanning along the tree line before stepping closer once again.

“Relax, this is no ambush. Unless you keep on intruding on my space, then it just might.” You say sternly, hoping to play into his paranoia and get him to leave quickly.

“I do so wish I could believe you, little lamb.” His eye still scans over the tree line as his hand falls to the hilt of his sword. “How do you expect me to relax when a beautiful girl like you is all alone in the woods? You couldn’t have gotten this far without help.”

“I have. You don’t think all that dirt and tools on me are for decoration, do you?” You say, gesturing to the axe tied to your belt, knifes dangling off the bag you carry that’s strung over your chest.

“And what exactly did I catch you doing all alone in the woods, little lamb?” His voice is firm now, eye narrowing as he takes a closer look at you, trying to judge you.

You remain quiet for a few moments before deciding to answer truthfully. “I live here.”

“You live here, little lamb?” His eye scans over you once more. “YOU live in the woods?” His voice is filled with equal measures of surprise and disbelief.

“I do.” You say affirmingly. “And I’m not fond of guests.”

“A woman alone in the wild? No man to protect her? No family?” His disbelief is evident in his voice and expression. “I cannot imagine how a beautiful woman like you has endured out here.”

Upset at his words, you feel anger starting to boil deep inside of you. Women in this time are still property to be owned, another reason why you decided to live out here, away from society. “Cut the feigned sympathy. I live just fine out here.”

“But is it really living, little lamb? Living in the wild? Surely a woman of your beauty must desire the comfort and luxuries of civilization. Do you feel no desire to start a family, to have someone care for you and protect you?” His tone seems kinder now, almost caring, although his disbelief is still clear and you cannot shake the feeling of danger coming from him.

Suspicious at his invasive nature you raise an eyebrow. “What is this? A tea party to exchange gossip?”

“Oh no, little lamb. You are a most fascinating creature and you have sparked my interest. I am merely trying to find out more about who you are.”

“I’m not interested in conversation-“

“Now, now, little lamb, we’ve come this far already. It wouldn’t be very polite to turn down a crown prince like this.” His eye narrows, an obvious predatory hint in his voice as his hand tightens on the hilt of his blade. “It’s appalling for a citizen to turn down their crown prince, my dear little lamb.”

You tighten your jaw, nervous at the sudden turn this situation has taken but unwilling to comply with his orders. “I am not a citizen of yours-“

“Everyone is a citizen of mine!” His words are soothing with anger as his patience has reached its limit and he pulls the blade from its sheath. “Now come closer little lamb. I’ll help you back to the city where you belong, where it’s safe.” He begins to stalk towards you, his dark gaze fixed upon you.

You take a few steps back before you turn around and start running, using the the fact you know these woods like no other to lure him away from where your home is before skillfully outmaneuvering him in the thick forest, hiding successfully in a small cave. The silver haired man tries to follow you, you can hear him yell profanities and curse words as he struggles to keep up with you, eventually getting caught up in the thicket and falling behind. "Damn you!" Aemond shouts as he breaks free of the branches and finds himself standing in a clearing with no sign of the little Lamb in sight. Where the hell did she go? Damn this forest. Damn her.

He inelegantly shoves his sword back into its casing, taking a last long look around the scenery before begrudgingly turning around to make his way back to the city.

The rest of his day is plagued by thoughts about her, remembering every single detail about his encounter with this strange, wild little Lamb. She lives in the woods all alone, with no one to care for her? Surely, he thinks to himself, no one would truly want to do that.

She did seem awfully skilled at maneuvering the trees and avoiding my chase. Could she truly be completely alone? He wonders, staring into the lit fireplace of his chambers, his finger mindlessly tapping along the rim of the almost drained cup in his hand. His interest in the little lamb was definitely piqued. He would venture out into the woods to find her again once his duties allowed him to.

time skip / two weeks have passed

Things went back to normal after the encounter with the stranger, you didn’t see him again, but you did make sure to be extra cautious about your surroundings at all times, avoiding all travelers for the time being.

You’re sitting on a boulder in the river, only your ankles in the water as you sharpen your axe using whet stones from the river while waiting for the fish you caught this morning to finish smoking. You’re deep in thoughts as when you notice an unusual rustling of leaves behind you and catch a glimpse of the familiar silver head through the trees.

Here we go again.

The silver haired man had been stalking the Kingswood once again as he had done for several days since he encountered the strange little Lamb the first time. Searching for any hints as to where she lived, so that he could go back and speak with her again.

His hope was running low when then he finally saw her again, sitting in the river, tending to her tools. His heart skipped multiple beats, he couldn’t quite explain why he felt like this.

Still, she is the only one this far into the woods. No one around to protect her, just like when he had met her last time. This woman was a mystery he was most eager to solve. He slowly and deliberately stalked over to her, taking great care to be as sneaky and quiet as possible.

Even though you had noticed him immediately you keep focusing on your tool, pretending you hadn't noticed him as he approaches, hiding behind the last tree that provides him with cover before he would have to step out into the open.

"What is it you want?" You ask after a while, your voice loud and clear while your eyes are still focused on the task at hand. His attempts to remain hidden are more amusing than anything else.

The man was startled but quickly covers his reaction with his typical demeanor, standing proud with his hands behind his back as he steps out of the tree line and approaches the mysterious beauty carefully, as if trying not to startle her. She had quite a sharp ear. Although, he should have known better. If this little lamb had survived by herself in the woods, hearing the noises of the trees and animals was a skill she must have honed greatly.

Once he’s only a few feet away he stops abruptly, contemplating his choice of words before he speaks in a friendly yet stern manner. "You are quite perceptive little Lamb."

He remains quiet for a while. You’re still focused on your tool, not looking up, as you probe him further. "Speak. I know you've been following me for a while."

“I was simply fascinated with your lifestyle after our last encounter, that is all." He comes a few steps closer, enough to look at her properly, but not so close as to make himself a threat. "Why do you live out here, by yourself? Away from civilization and society?"

"Because I wish to do so." You say, now leaning forward to wash off the freshly sharpened axe in the river water.

"But is there no other reason little Lamb? You do not get... lonely? You do not yearn for society or friends? This forest is cold, dark, and dangerous." The mans voice seems filled with what seems like genuine concern for your welfare.

"The forests seem like that only to those who aren't welcome in them." You say, now looking up at him for the first time this conversation. "What do I get out of sharing my life story with you?"

Aemond's eyebrow quirked slightly at your words. Your words were not aggressive but they were not exactly kind or welcoming either. „You get to answer your crown prince a few questions that have been gnawing on his mind for a while. Who could say it wouldn’t be worth it?”

“I could say. The less people know about me, the better. Easier to stay hidden that way.”

Aemond stays silent after she says that, thinking over her words in his head. Stay hidden from what? From whom? What could make her feel that she must remain hidden... "Tell me, my little Lamb. Who are you hiding from?" Perhaps after finding out that one thing, he can put this obsession to rest.

"Men like you." You answer, now shifting your attention back to your tools, reaching back into the river to fetch out another whet stone to sharpen a big knife now.

"Men like me?" His eye narrows. " I am no threat to you. What could possibly have led you to believe that? You are alone so deep in the woods and I have not shown you any hostility... yet."

"No hostility?" You say laughing. "Chasing me with your sword was what then? A local friendship ritual I’m not familiar with?"

"Oh, I was simply trying to get you to stop and talk to me. That is all." He says, a small smile gracing his lips at her words. He found her laughter quite endearing.

“Didn’t work very well now, did it?”

"No I suppose not," His smile grows slightly, he finds this strange little Lamb's demeanor quite intriguing. He was never great at interacting with women, but this one seemed comfortable in his company, at least somewhat. Even if she was also incredibly untrusting and suspicious of him, or of men in general. He looks at her intently, savouring her smile as he knows his next words will wipe it right off her face again.

“I want to know more about you. I will not leave until you tell me more.” He says and as predicted, her cheeky smile gets replaced with a frown again.

“I told you, I won’t-“ he interrupts her quickly, almost pleading with her, “I know, I know. But I need to know. I cannot rest at night. I will not tell anyone about you. Whatever you tell me, it will not have any consequences, I swear it.”

You sigh deeply, pondering his words. You couldn’t care less for telling your story, the possibility of sharing too much lingering in the back of your mind. Then again, perhaps this is just what you needed. Sharing a bit of your true self with someone after having to carefully craft a fake persona and uphold it for the past two years. “Fine then. What is it you want to know?”

His eyes light up at that statement as he takes his time deciding which one of his many questions he should ask first. “Your accent, it seems out of place. Are you not from here?”

You immedily begin to regret your decision to talk to him, struggling to find a way to phrase the truth in a way it doesn’t sound too outlandish. “No, I am not. I come from a land far away, you wouldn’t know it.”

“Did you come alone?”

“Sort of. I came here with others but they… forgot me. Or maybe they are just unable to return. I wouldn’t know.”  You say, looking out into the flowing river as you remember.

“Forgot you? Why would your family just forget you?”

“They weren’t my family. They were… people I knew. We went here and they left, never to return, at least not until today. They probably told my family I died.” What had they told your family? You often wondered it. The changes of the seasons and moons made it easy for you to tell how much time had passed here, in this world. Did as much time pass back home? Was your family even informed of what truly happened or were they waiting back home for a sign of life that would never come, with no way of knowing your fate?

Aemond is quiet for a while, processing this information. “How long have you been here?”

“I’ve been here two winters already, the coming one will be my third.”

“THAT long?” He blurts out, mind racing. “You have survived here alone all this time, out in this forest, with no family or friends? How?”

A slight smile tugs at the corner of your lips, amused by his disbelief. “Yes, I have. I’m friendly with some of the farmers around here and some merchants. I was fortunate, really, that I was stranded here with a few tools and a bit of money.”

“That could not have been enough to make you survive here. The winters can be hard, as can be nature itself. I don’t know a single woman that would be able to survive like this even with all the tools in the world.”

“I suppose you’re right.” You shrug. This is your normal, all you knew for most of your life, you often forget just how unusual it really is. “I come from a family of farmers. We lived far out, away from civilization, and I learned a lot about nature that way. I am, or was, my parents only child. I spend many years of my childhood in the forest with my dad. He was an avid fisher and knew all the ways around the forest, while my mom taught me all about her knowledge of herbs. She was a healer of sorts.” 

Your smile returns as she recalls all her fond memories of home. Oh, how you wished you’d never left the farm. “They bred, trained, and sold horses too. I was strapped to a saddle on my own horse before I could even walk.”

His face shifts from one of shock to one of sympathy. He could tell by your words and the tone your voice takes that you missed home dearly. “And you have no way back?”

“No.” You state plainly. Do you? Truthfully, you do not know, but you surely hope you do.

“Why? If I give you coin for passage, can you go back home?”

“I’m afraid its not that easy.” You huff, struggling to make up an answer to this question. “Unless they come get me, I have no way back. I… I’m done talking about this.” You say, now shaking your head.

He wants to press further but understands he shouldn’t, not if he’d like to keep you talking. “Well then… What are you planning to do here then? You can’t just stay out here forever.”

“Why not?” You conter. “I’ve gotten comfortable out here. I know my way around the woods and can survive quite well out here. I’ve come to appreciate my little life out here quite a lot, actually.”

“Is this really life or is this survival? What about finding a family of your own, what about children?”

You sigh deeply. “I may not have answers to all those questions yet, but I do now I’m content here for now. I have no duties here, no bills to worry about. I just need to figure out my next meal and get to enjoy nature the rest of the time with all the peace and quiet it offers me.”

The change of topic strikes a chord in you, one you didn’t realise was as sensitive as it seems to be. The prospect of having to live out the rest of your days in this time is one that seemed more and more realistic and the question of what you would actually do for the next twenty, forty, sixty years of your life was one burning in the back of your mind more and more frequently.

“I’m done talking for today. You may leave now.” You dismissed the prince, frustration growing inside you.

He is not happy about this, his expression shows this as much as the tone of his voice. “Leave? I just arrived. You can’t just send me away.”

“I do not wish to tell any more stories.” You state. Just as he begins to talk again you turn to face him quickly, looking at him for a few seconds before proposing a compromise. Maybe you just needed some time to gather your thoughts and calm the inner turmoil you can feel bubbling deep inside your chest right now. “How about this: If you can find me again, I will answer you more questions. Anything you want.”

His jaw clenches as he lets out a long sigh. This is not how he wanted this conversation to end but he could tell from her expression that she seemed exhausted and the prospect of getting to ask anything he wanted seemed tempting enough to agree. “Fine then. I will seek you out again soon, but I will not rest until I have all my answers. You must swear you will not avoid me again.”

“I swear it.” You answer, a reassuring smile on your lips. “Have a safe travel back, my prince.”

She had been speaking so freely all this time that hearing her address him properly caught him off guard for a moment. He stands still in place, watching her a bit longer, before begrudgingly turning around to leave after bidding a small goodbye.

As he walks away you turn around slightly, watching the swaying of his silver hair until it disappears completely between the trees. A long, deep sigh escapes your lips as you resume your tasks for the day, thinking about all the questions he asked and what you really wanted from your life now.

You were honest, you did love your life as it was now, but sometimes the solitude did get to you as well. A craving for the love and closeness your family had brought you. As much as you cursed the prince when you had first met him, maybe having his attention on you could be a good thing after all.

He thought his mind would be calmed after speaking to her but to his dismay, the opposite had happened. His head is filled with questions still and worse so, genuine worry about her wellbeing. Yes, his little lamb had survived well by herself, but the confirmation that she was truly alone out there was deeply unsettling to him. When he is laying in bed that night, he realised just how little he knew about her. He didn’t know where she lived – did she have a house or did she sleep under the stars? He had never even asked her name. What would it be? If she is from far away, it surely was exotic.

He keeps tossing and turning that night, the picture of her smiling face filling his mind, even more so when he closes his eye, as if he can see even clearer when the world isn’t distracting him. He tries to sleep but he swears he hears her laugh, still as clear and comforting as it had been when he heard it the first time. A sound so sweet it could lull him to sleep, if only there wasn’t the gaping emptiness next to him, reminding him of your absence, of the fact you’re all alone out there. If something happened to you tonight, would he ever find out? He could not bear the thought of it.

His night stays restless. He falls asleep again and again, dreaming vividly about the way your cheeks rounded when you smiled at him, about the freckles on your nose, the small dimples that appeared under your cheeks when you smiled and over your lips when you pursed your lips in dismay at another thing he said.

It was improper, he knew that much. For a prince, the heir to the throne, to be so enchanted by a forest dweller. Nevertheless, his heart skipped a beat every time he had laid his eyes on her. His mind went back to think about all your interactions at every chance it got, even in the midst of important meetings. He was a devoted and proper man; he knew better and yet, something about her felt so fundamentally right that a future without her seemed wrong.

When the first rays of sunshine broke though his windows he had made his decision. He would go to see her again and this time, he would not leave her behind. He could not. He will find her and bring her – well, where? Somewhere, anywhere he knows she is safe, where he knows he can find her whenever he wants to see her. He will figure it all out, he will find a way to make this work.

His feet soon carry him through the castle, unaware of where he is going until he finds himself in front of two wooden doors. The kings, his brothers, chambers.

Currently editing the next part, that one will be 18+! Second series about Aemond x reader coming soon as well (currently proof reading chapter one)!

[animationmovieshipps]

Drunk Confessions (Opla Luffy X Reader)

"Hey, sweetie, can you get us another bottle?" Sanji asked, before spontaneously laughing again.

"Why me?" You asked pointing to yourself, even though you already knew the answer of that question.

"Because you're probably the only one here who can get to the kitchen without getting lost on the way." Usopp replied, before lowering his glasses and looking directly at Zoro, who gave him the middle finger after taking another sip from the cup.

They couldn't blame you for not wanting to drink so much that you weren't sober anymore, the last time it happened they said that when they took their eye off you for a second, a stranger almost took you away. They said that Luffy beat the man so badly that he had to be hospitalized.

Besides, you didn't like being hungover the next day.

"Okay, I go." You laughed and got up to go to the kitchen, but stopped suddenly when you felt one of them grab your hand.

You turned around and didn't know what to say when you saw it was Luffy. He didn't usually drink, but that night he decided to do something different.

"Don't stay there too long, okay? Or I'm going to miss you a lot." He said. "Do you promise you won't be long?"

You couldn't help but smile, he was even cuter when he was drunk, if that was possible.

"Okay, I promise I won't be long." You said, only after that he let go of your hand and let you go.

You went to the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of whiskey and returned to them, who welcomed you with a round of applause.

You smiled and shook your head, placing the bottle on the table before sitting back in your seat. As soon as you did, Luffy rested his head on your shoulder.

"Hey, I think I want to go to sleep now." He said. "Can you take me to the room, p-p-p...?"

You chuckled, seeing that he couldn't say 'please'.

"Please?" You said.

"That's it, that was the word."

"What a polite young man." You joked, taking his hand and lifting him from the chair.

"Try not to throw him into the sea." Zoro shouted, as you threw him over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carried him away to the room. Your daily workout with him was good for something.

With the greatest care in the world, you placed him on the bed and took off his shoes, briefly tickling his feet so you could hear his lovely laugh one more time.

"Wait, w-where's my hat?" He asked, when he ran his hand over his head and saw that the hat wasn't there.

"It's right next to you, don't worry." You assured him.

He reached to the side and felt for the bed, sighing in relief when he touched the hat and felt its familiar texture.

"Oh. It's here." He laughed.

You smiled, looking at him tenderly. If he only knew how you felt.

"Well, sleep well, captain..."

"No! Don't leave now!" He asked desperately when he saw you getting up of his bed.

You were confused as to what else he wanted with you, but you sat on the edge of the bed again.

"What is it now?" You asked.

Luffy made an effort and sat down on the bed again, although his head seemed to be spinning.

"I have to tell you something very important." He said in a serious tone of voice.

"You know you can tell me anything." You assured him.

"I just wanted to say that I love you." He said, leaving you surprised to say the least. You knew he loved dearly everyone on the crew, but he never said with words. "And it's not that little, I love you that much." He gestured to explain what he was saying.

"... That's great, I love you too..." You said back.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no..."

"Have you said all the 'no's' you had?" You joked, interrupting him.

"Almost, no, no, no." He continued. "I don't love you like that, I LOVE you, I want to marry you and be the father of your children."

You were surprised again, until that moment you thought he only saw you as an older sister, like he also saw Nami.

You had no idea if he was telling the truth or just messing with you, but you knew that people when under the influence of alcohol said whatever came to mind.

You decided to talk to him about it the next day, when he was sober again.

You got up to leave the room for good, but before you did, he grabbed your hand again, this time he pulled you sharply and you fell on top of him.

You no longer had a chance to escape when your eyes met his, you found yourself lost in the light of his gaze.

Somehow, you had to get out of there, or you were going to do something you would regret. You would never take advantage of him, but you also didn't trust that you wouldn't give in to temptation.

"Don't go away..." He murmured in pleading, sliding the tip of his nose along your cheek.

Him not kissing you when your lips were so close to each other made you even more distressed than if he had already kissed you.

"Stop it, come on, we can't do this with you looking like this." You tried to argue, trying to get away from him, but you couldn't. Your reason was constantly fighting against your emotion at that moment.

He ignored you, this time trailing a path of kisses to your lips and finally kissed you.

You were strong, refusing to move your lips. But you couldn't hold it for much more time, you had wanted to kiss him for so long.

The next thing you knew, you were sitting on his lap, looking like you were going to suck his soul through his mouth while your hands roamed his body under his shirt.

His lips felt so soft against yours, when the kiss deepened you surprisingly felt a sweet taste, when you thought it would taste like rum.

Not long after, when you felt his hands undo the buttons on the back of your shirt, you came to your senses again and got off him.

"No, no, I can't let that happen, I would never forgive myself." You said between heavy breaths, still feeling the adrenaline and your body burning up.

"Awww just when things were getting better." Luffy lamented pouting. "Come on..."

"No, I'm not going to do anything while you're drunk." You insisted firmly, bringing your hands to your back and buttoning the buttons on your shirt again. "Now go to sleep, wasn't it what you wanted?"

"As you wish then." He reluctantly agreed, regretting drinking that night. "Can you at least sleep here with me tonight?"

You considered that idea, but soon imagined it was an excuse for him to try to seduce you again.

"... You're not going to try anything again, are you?" You asked.

"No, I just don't want to be away from you." He replied, before laying down on the bed again.

You smiled. That was sweet, but you still weren't completely sure of his intentions.

"You promise?"

"Fine, I promise." He said.

You took a deep breath and lay down next to him, deciding to trust his word. Luffy quickly wrapped his arms around you and threw one of his legs over your body.

As much as it seemed, you didn't feel uncomfortable, his entire body was soft.

You hugged him back and fell asleep at the same time as him, with a happy smile on your lips.

As soon as he opened his eyes, he had to close them again, when the sunlight that came through the bedroom window seemed to intensify the headache he was feeling even more.

He remembered almost nothing from the night before, just that he drank a lot and you had slept next to him.

"Is it a hangover?" Zoro asked, hearing the captain's grunts of pain.

"What do you think?" Luffy retorted.

"Over time you get used to it." Usopp laughed.

"Good morning." You hummed as you entered the room, a mug of hot coffee in your hands.

"Zoro, do you remember that thing you wanted to show me?" Usopp asked, obviously an excuse so Luffy and you could talk alone.

Zoro didn't remember anything of what he was saying, but he left the room with the shooter anyway.

"What is that?" He asked when he noticed the cup in your hands.

"It's for you." You replied, sitting on the edge of the bed and handing him the mug.

He usually preferred milk, but since you brought him that coffee, he wasn't going to deny it.

You couldn't help but laugh when you saw him grimace as he took a sip of the drink.

"Why is this without sugar?" Luffy asked.

"Good coffee to cure a hangover is without sugar." You answered. "Now drink it all to make yourself feel better."

He took another sip, trying his best to avoid tasting it.

Seeing that this was the opportunity to talk to him about what happened the night before, you didn't hesitate.

"Hey, last night..."

"What happened last night?" He asked, interrupting you. "Did I do something stupid to you while I was drunk?"

"Luffy..."

"If that's what happened, my bad, I'm still not very used to it and..."

"Luffy!" You said, briefly covering his mouth with your hand. "You said you loved me and wanted to marry me."

His expression changed suddenly when you said that, not believing that after so long keeping what he felt for you to himself, he slipped up.

"Look, I have a very good explanation for this, let me just..." He tried to explain himself and failed miserably.

You just laughed and leaned over, giving him a kiss on the cheek that made him shut up.

"You don't need to say anything." You said, intertwining your hand with his. "I love you too."

Luffy looked at your interwined hands and then looked at you again, smiling as he assimilated what you said.

He didn't need to say a word, the look in his eyes was worth a thousand words.

[kortsitron]

Corruption

✮ PARING Hobie Brown × Trans Male! Reader

✮ WARNINGS/TAGS reader realizes he's trans, pre-transition reader, religious themes, christianity, fluff, angst, supportive! hobie, reader is referred to as a girl/daughter in some moments, hobie and reader are both young adults, gender dysphoria, toxic parents, abuse, transphobia, cursing, reader is referred by she/her by his parents, happy ending

✮ SUMMARY A stranger comes to your town and helps you realize who you are

✮ A/N  If you know me, you probably know my opinion on Christianity and religion in general, but I won't lie, I kinda like the religious themes. Especially when it's about being taken out of it and realizing that the world has so much to offer once you leave it. I guess it's my type of thing since I have been raised as a catholic little ‘girl’ and now I hate religion with pure passion after having it shown down my throat for years when I was younger. One more thing, if you're not comfortable, please do not read this. I am aware there are people who can be triggered by any of the things mentioned in the warnings/tags. If you decide to read this, I hope you're going to enjoy it! <3

In a way inspired by confessions by @eyesxxyou

ao3 masterlist requests

You were such a perfect girl in everyone's eyes. Always so nice and polite, obedient towards your parents, in church every Sunday. You were so feminine, so lovely. Always wore those pretty dresses and skirts of yours, along with the necklace with virgin Mary on your pretty neck. And your gorgeous long hair. You were a perfection to everyone around you.

But you didn't feel perfect in the slightest.

You felt so wrong for some reason you couldn't quite name. Your body felt like a cage you couldn't get out of and you didn't know why. All you knew was that you wanted to cut your hair, hide your body under some baggy clothing and yell at everyone who called you a girl. But obviously you couldn't do that, no matter how much you wanted to. You didn't want people to look at you weirdly, to call you a freak. 

So you decided to stay quiet, knowing that nothing was going to change because you were too scared to do it on your own. Scared of judgment and scared of being abandoned. 

All you did was pray that your sinful fantasies would simply go away. But instead of them going away, something else happened. Like the prayers from the depth of your heart have been heard and finally answered.

You saw him after the Sunday mass, as you were standing next to your mother while she was talking with someone else. He was nothing like you've ever seen before. Those piercing glistening in the sunlight just like the spikes on his vest. The distressed pants with patches and chains. And those heavy boots. He was the definition of perfection, definitely not to those around you, but for you without a doubt.

You have caught eye contact with that beautiful stranger. His stunning brown eyes stared into yours as he smirked at you. He probably thought you were just a pretty girl, you assumed. After all, why would he think differently?

“Do not look at him.” Your mother scolded you, grabbing you by your shoulder and turning you to face her. You could see the disgust on her face. You’ve never seen her with that kind of grimace on her face. “I do not want to see you near him. I can already tell he's no good.”

She didn't say it, but you could already tell she saw him as the embodiment of everything that was sinful. And the last thing she wanted was her precious daughter to stray from God's path.

You glanced at the punk for the last time before your mother said that you were going home. He still watched you. He wasn't sure what it was about you that made him want to get to know you. But something inside him told him that you needed him.

Since then you saw him around the town, but you didn't dare to come close to him. You felt a rush of excitement in your stomach every time you saw him, saw that smirk of his. You didn't have anyone who excited you the way he did. But he indeed did excite you, but you couldn't even talk to him, being scared your parents might yell at you.

Everything changed when you were peacefully reading the bible on the bench next to the church. It was so warm and sunny, so you picked a spot under a tree. Your hair was made into a long braid that was getting more loose without you noticing. 

You then heard someone sit next to you. You looked up from the bible to see him. That beautiful punk, smirking at you shamelessly. He looked even better up close. 

“Hello, luv. I'm Hobie.” His voice was lower than you thought it would be. But it sounded so good, so smooth you could almost melt. His eyes looked from your face to the bible you held your hand, then back to your face. You started wondering what was on his mind. “What's your name, hmm?”

You bashfully told him your name. You weren't sure how to act. Was he expecting you to pretend to be this perfect girl everyone perceived you as? Or maybe he was finally someone that could let you be yourself? Either way, you were scared to find out.

He chuckled at your bashful reaction. Your cheeks got pink so quickly. You were just so adorable. And so… innocent. But you had a feeling he could see right through you. See that all of this was just a facade and under all of it, there was a real you, trying to get to the surface. Trying to be free.

“Have you ever listened to punk rock?” Hobie asked out of nowhere. You blinked. You? Listening to loud, unapologetic music? You could never do that. At least not without worrying about being judged.

Finally you shook your head and his smirk widened. “Darlin’, we have to change that immediately.” He saw you shake your head even more. 

You heard about punk rock. The unapologetic and loud music for brutal men who have abandoned God's ways and all the rules. At least that's what you have been told by your mother. “They are good for nothing but corrupting the minds of pretty girls like you. And I cannot let that happen.” She told you and you wondered if Hobie was that type of punk. The type to ruin you and corrupt you.

“I-I can't. I am not allowed to listen to that kind of music.” You looked down at the bible in your hands, you couldn't look Hobie in the eyes. You expected him to think you were weird for not being allowed to listen to what you wanted. But all you wanted was to avoid conflict.

Hobie's face went from confusion to smirk again. “Oh please. I can see that there's a little rebel hidden behind those pretty innocent eyes.” So he indeed could right through you.

You nervously played with your hair, wanting to both agree and refuse. And in a quick moment, your beautiful braid was untied. “Oh no.” You watched your hairband fall onto the grass. Hobie noticed it too. He moved and grabbed it, quickly cleaning it off from all the dirt. “Allow me.” He spoke so softly. You weren't sure if you should allow him to touch you in any way, but he just wanted to help you tie your hair, right? 

You decided not to overthink it, sitting with your back facing him, so he could tie your hair. You didn't expect it, but he was so gentle with your hair. No harsh hair pulling. His fingers parted your hand so nicely before he began to braid it. You almost melted.

And soon, you had your pretty braid again. Not as perfect as you could have done it, but it was still really nice. “Thank you so much, Hobie.” You said quietly before excusing yourself and saying you had to go. His eyes softened, he only nodded, asking if he could talk to you again. “I hate to say it, but I can't be seen with you.” 

Hobie sighed, his fingertip tapped at his lip ring, he seemed lost in thoughts. “And if we meet in secret?” He looked down at you, you were so short compared to him. “You can come over to my place, no one will know you were with me and I could show you some of my world.” He spoke so proudly when he mentioned introducing you to his world. And even though you technically shouldn't be meeting him, you were more than curious. So you agreed at last.

Obviously, someone saw you with Hobie. Your parents weren't proud of you for talking to him. You had no other choice than to lie, just like you did when it came to who you really felt about yourself. 

Yes, I like this dress. 

Yes, I like those shoes.

Yes, my hair is so pretty when it's so long.

Yes, I am a girl.

You had to lie, even though you wish you didn't have to. But you hoped that at the end of the day, when you were praying before going to sleep, God would forgive you for lying to everyone around you. He would understand, right?

So, as always, you lied, telling your parents that Hobie asked for some help because he was a newcomer and didn't know the town very well. Your parents weren't happy you talked to him, but knew, or at least believed, you were too good and polite to refuse to help him. They didn't think twice about it, allowing you to go to your room. They didn't mention Hobie braiding your hair, so you just assumed they didn't know about it, so you decided not to mention it either. It was better to keep your mouth shut.

You were careful when the day of visiting Hobie came. You told your parents that you went to study the bible at your friend's house. They didn't suspect a thing. You made sure no one could see you as you made your way to Hobie's apartment. And soon enough, you were in front of the door of his apartment.

You knocked lightly, heard the sound of locks being unlocked and then the door finally opened. You saw Hobie and he looked at you with that same softness like the last time. But this time he rubbed one eye with a cotton pad. You had a look of confusion on your face when you saw that.

“Come in, luv.” He moved so you could come inside, but instead of looking around, you watched him.

“Are you… wiping off your makeup?” The question sounded so stupid in your mind. Men weren't wearing makeup… right?

Hobie chuckled softly before going to the bathroom to wipe the makeup off more precisely in front of the mirror. You saw a few small eyeshadow palettes with bright eyeshadow in them, along with eyeliner and even two lipsticks. Even you didn't own that much makeup, you barely had any makeup since your parents didn't want you to paint your face like a whore.

“Yeah. I have been to a small party outside the town, so I wanted to look me best.” Hobie explained, before throwing a dirty pad into the bin. He then turned to you, it was obvious that you never saw a man wearing makeup before. You've never seen someone like him before. He allowed himself to check you out, you had a long skirt and a cute top that matched the skirt so well. “I am guessing you never wore the kind of makeup I usually go for?”

His hand grabbed one of the eyeshadow palettes and gave it to you, so you could see the inside better. You didn't think much and opened it. You hand one makeup palette and it was mostly light browns, one a little more glittery eyeshadow and two light pinks. But Hobie’s? It was so colorful. Red, blue, green and yellow. All of them so bright and pigmented.

He smiled when he saw your reaction, he felt excitement in his stomach. You looked stunned. “Why don't I finally show you that punk rock?” He left the bathroom and you followed him. His apartment was a little messy. Posters on every wall, some chokers and other jewelry scattered in some places and some clothes laying around. But his room was even better. It was so… him. You could see the room scream Hobie. Even more posters, a guitar. It might have been a little messy, but it had so much character.

Hobie moved to the old cd player and in the matter of seconds, the loud music played. Black Flag on full volume. At first you weren't sure what to think, but soon, you started loving it. You stopped caring about anything when the music played, banging your head to the rhythm. At first a little shyly, but then you were more confident about it, not caring if you were going to mess up your hair. You looked so happy, you felt so happy. It has been since you felt like that.

Even since Hobie came here, he finally saw your smile, the real and sincere smile on that face of yours. But he saw it falter when Can't Decide by the Black Flag started playing.

Sun's coming up and I can't decide

To spill my emotions or keep them inside

Go for a drive, go to the store

I'm looking for something that can't be bought there

I always wear a smile

Because anything but a smile would make me have to explain

And they wouldn't understand anyway

And they wouldn't understand anyway

I conceal my feelings so I won't have to explain

What I can't explain anyway

It hit so close to home, you almost started sobbing. Hobie saw it immediately and turned the music off. He sat next to you, one arm around you while he rubbed your arm with the other to comfort you. He barely knew you, but he was so concerned about your well being already. “What happened, dove?” He asked so quietly, almost as if he was scared he might make you start crying just by asking.

But you weren't ready to admit what has been going inside your head for months. And he could see that so well. A few tears went down your cheeks so you asked for a tissue. You smudged your makeup a bit, but luckily Hobie was able to fix it with the only brown palette he owned, the one had forgotten about since he never used it.

You gathered your things and apologized. “Don't apologize, luv. Just know you can come and talk about what's going on in that pretty head of yours.” You only nodded before leaving. 

Your parents weren't home by the time you came back, they were probably in the neighbor's house, talking and eating how they did once in a while. Probably praising you how good and obedient you were, and how they were happy to have a daughter like you.

And after that situation at Hobie's place, it became harder to pretend. It became hard not to cry when you were called a perfect daughter, pretty girl and beautiful woman. You couldn't wait any longer, you had to talk with someone about it. And the only person who would not judge you was Hobie. 

It has been a while since you talked to him. But you came back, trembling, looking like you were about to start crying at any given moment. Hobie didn't think twice, he just let you in, sat down on the floor while he seated you on his bed. His calloused hands found yours and he caressed them gently in order to comfort you.

And finally, after all this time, you opened up about what has been on your mind for all those months. You explained how you felt trapped in your own body, how you hated being seen as a girl and how much it hurt when you were called and seen as one. How much you just wanted to be yourself.

Hobie's eyes softened, his hand touched your delicate cheek as his thumb stroked it. You didn't flinch away from his touch, instead you leaned into his hand, enjoying the way he touched you. “Darlin’, I think you might be trans.”

“I might be what?” Your nose was already stuffed from all that crying, making your voice sound funny. Hobie sighed before his lips curled into the soften of smiled. 

“Trans, hun.” You still looked confused, but he wasn't going to blame you. You've been living in a place where you were too scared to be yourself, you couldn't name your feelings even though you have been feeling them for months. It was obvious these people weren't talking about things like that, at least not in the way that would make you want to explore those feelings.

“It's uh, it's when your body doesn't match how you feel on the inside. Like you, you have been born as a woman, but you don't feel like one, don't you?” You shook your head, of course you didn't feel like a woman. Thinking about yourself as a woman didn't feel right. 

Hobie got an idea. “Why don't you go to the bathroom and take all of that off? I'll bring ya some clothes and then you'll tell me how you feel.” He helped you with making your way to the bathroom and closed the door after you. You took off the dress, standing in nothing more than your underwear. It felt a bit less suffocating to not be wearing that stupid dress.

Soon, you heard Hobie knock on the door. “I have some stuff I think might look good on you.” You covered yourself with the towel that was near you, not wanting for Hobie to see your body. But he didn't even peek in, instead he held the clothes for you, letting you grab them before he quickly closed the door behind him.

You looked down at the clothes. Some distressed jeans with patches and studded belt, white shirt with some graffiti, which you assumed was decorated by Hobie himself and even some hand warmers to match the outfit.

You had put on the outfit and left the bathroom, only to see Hobie waiting for you. His eyes sparkled when he saw you. And he could see it in your face that you felt better. He looked so excited for you.

But you still had that long braid. “Let me…” Hobie murmured before you felt him touch your hair again. You weren't sure what he did exactly, but when you stepped in front of the mirror, your hair looked so short. It wasn't perfect, but you loved how your hair looked, way more than it looked in a braid, ponytail or any other hairstyle you were used to. You looked like a boy, and you were so happy.

At that very moment, you knew you couldn't go back to how your life was before. You couldn't go back to wearing dresses, praying to the God that probably never listened to you and did not care about you. You could no longer pretend that you were the perfect girl you were seen as until now.

Hobie's hands grabbed you by your shoulder. “Do you want me to call by a different name?” He asked, glancing at your reflection in the mirror as he rubbed your shoulders. You thought about it for a moment, before looking up at him and speaking up. “Do you think [Name] would suit me?”

Hobie chuckled and nodded. “Definitely, luv. Definitely.” He couldn't help himself and softly kissed your cheek. You were surprised by the sudden affection, but you enjoyed it.

“I want you to cut my hair. I want it short..” You said so suddenly, your voice was a little shaky, but you couldn't wait anymore. You have wanted to cut it for a while and you didn't want anyone else other than Hobie to do it. He was surprised by you. He didn't expect you to want to do it now.

“Are you su–” 

“Yes, I am sure.” You cut him off, you didn't want to be mean, but you couldn't wait any longer. “Please… I don't want to go back to what was before. I don't want to pretend to be someone who I am not.” You begged, you sounded so desperate. He couldn't say no to you when you sounded like that.

“Okay.” He said, giving your shoulders a squeeze before he took you to the bathroom. He brought a small stool and seated you on it. He grabbed a scissors, untied your hair, looking at it for the last time before he started cutting it. You squeezed your eyes shut, your stomach swirling with anxiety, as you listened to the sound of the scissors cutting your hair.

Snip! Snip! Snip!

You felt your hair, your hair that you got so many compliments on, tickling your arms and neck before it fell down on the bathroom floor. “Done.” Hobie said, his voice was flat. It made you worry. Did you look bad? Did he mess up your hair? Was it a mistake?

He brushed the cut hair off of you, before you stood up and looked in the mirror. It was not perfect, but it still made you feel good. You started sobbing immediately. “Dove? Are you alright?” Hobie asked, worried and a little panicked.

“I've never felt better.” You sobbed out and he sighed, relieved that you liked it. He hugged you tightly, being so glad to see you happy with who you were.

But it couldn't go on forever. You came home pretty late, still wearing the clothes Hobie gave you earlier. And in the hoodie he gave so you wouldn't be cold while coming back home. You knew confrontation wouldn't be something you were able to avoid . And you knew it wouldn't be a light confrontation either.

Your parents were sitting in the living room. As soon as you closed the front door behind you, you heard your father call you by the name you no longer wished to be called by. You took a deep breath, pulling a hood over your head before you entered the living room. Your parents eyes were immediately on you, your mother gasped loudly.

“What the fuck is that!?” Your father yelled, he stood up and grabbed you by the hood and yanked it off your head. He intended to grab you by your hair, but there was nothing to grab. Your lovely long hair was long gone and there was nothing they could do about it. In a way, that made you proud.

“What have you done to yourself!?” Your mother shouted with tears in her eyes. You've never seen her crying and you didn't expect her to get so emotional. She always seemed so cold. “Where's your hair? Your dress?” She's never been so panicked. “What will we say to the others once they see that your hair is gone? What will they think of us? What will they think of you?”

There was this need to apologize, turn the time back and never let yourself explore who you really were. But you weren't going to let this need win. You have been obedient for way too long. You were pretending for way too long and now? You were tired of it.

“I don't fucking care what are they going to think of me!” You shouted back. Both of your parents were startled by the fact that you just cursed. They never heard you curse, nor did they hear you sound so confident. “I have been pretending to be someone who I wasn't me for way too long. I am not going to let you decide about how I am anymore!” 

Slap!

Your father slapped you so hard you fell to the floor. Your cheek was all red already. You and your mother were both shocked. Your father was about to take his belt off and start beating you, but your mother stopped him. “I am sure there's something we can do instead of beating her up. People will notice and they might think we were the one to cut her hair off. We can buy a wig until her hair grows back.”

“I am not growing it back and I am not putting the dresses back on.” You hissed. Maybe you shouldn't have done that, but you ripped off the virgin Mary necklace off your neck and threw it.

Your parents were more than shocked at your action. “She must have been corrupted by that punk!” Your mother cried out. “What are we going to–” Your father lost his temper. Instead of beating you up like he initially planned, he grabbed you and threw you out the door. “I no longer have a daughter!” It was the last thing you heard before he closed the door.

Soon, your father started throwing your things out the window. All those gorgeous dresses and skirts flying out the window. Before you were terrified to even slightly rip them and now? You didn't care that they got dirty, they stopped mattering to you. You only waited for your father to throw your phone. You wanted to catch it, but it fell onto the concrete, the phone screen broke, but luckily for you, you still were able to use it. You grabbed some more important things that your father had thrown and then made your way to Hobie's apartment.

He was concerned, but both of you knew it was better that way. If you stayed, nothing would change and everything would go worse. More praying, more femininity, more pretending. But you weren't going to stay with your parents, luckily Hobie said you could stay with him.

You were laying with Hobie in his bed. You were so lost in your thoughts and he could see it clearly. Hobie laid on his side to face you, the tips of his fingers brushed against your jaw to get your attention. You turned to look at him. “You okay?” You put your hands on your face and sighed.

“I'm fine. It’s just… I've wanted to be myself for a while and I…” You paused for a moment, not looking into Hobie's eyes. In a way, it all felt unreal. Usually, you would now be in your bed, reading the bible or praying. And now, you were laying with a man you didn't know very well, but he gave you everything you could have asked for. Acceptance, help and hope. 

Your eyes finally met his again. “I didn't expect that it would actually happen. I thought I was going to be everyone's perfect girl until I die, but you came into my life and changed everything. Thank you so much for that.” You smiled at him, you were so grateful he came into your life. He smiled back at you and leaned to kiss your cheek.

“You're very welcome, luv.” 

You both left the town as quickly as you could since that happened. Now, it has been 6 years since the day you met him. Everything has been truly perfect since then. Your transition was going well and you recently had your top surgery.

And Hobie? He was with you the whole time. During the first appointment at the doctor, he helped you take your first testosterone shot and he held your hand both before and after the surgery.

Life couldn't be more perfect and you never felt more perfect.

taglist: @sk3llly

[withleeknow]

for the requests — i'll send two songs that i've liked for quite a while and you can choose the member that you see who fits the vibe?

sand by dove cameron

and

make you mine by madison beer

conversations with strangers.

pairing: seungmin x gn!reader genre/warnings: exes to ??, non-idol au (i wrote this with seungmin in mind as a celebrity/singer or musician of some sort so it's pretty vague and it's not explicitly mentioned what he actually does, so if you wanna imagine him as an idol it still fits the narrative. i can't tell you what to do lol), Angst™️! (i think. i liked this at first but then i was looking at it so much that i became desensitized to it and idk if it's that sad anymore lol); the ending is a little ambiguous maybe?, mentions of drinking, mentions of sex, could've been more edited word count: 2.9k note: this might be one of my favorite things that i've written lately but i am also in my fish freshly dropped on land era so i am fully prepared for this to flop like ass lol bye

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / request masterlist / ko-fi

I saw the end when we began You couldn't love the way I can I tried to bargain with the stars For more than half of your heart But you have more pieces of me than the desert has sand And I have less pieces of you than I can hold in my hand

Sand - Dove Cameron

"Why did you call me?"

"Why did you come?"

There isn't a good answer to his question, so you choose to ignore it in favor of keeping your eyes on the road, your fingers holding tightly onto the steering wheel. You don't know what to tell him. You yourself aren't even sure why you came to that bar, why Seungmin is sitting in your passenger seat right now just because he was drunk and he wouldn't let anyone take him home but you.

"I asked you first," you say. It takes an effort to keep your voice even, an effort not to look over at him.

"Don't know," he sounds like he couldn't care less, but that's always been Seungmin for you. "Old habits die hard, I guess. You were the only one I used to call."

You round a corner without even having to look at the GPS. The route to his place is still ingrained in your brain even after all this time. On some nights when you feel too stuffy indoors, you would go on a walk by yourself. Directionless for an hour or two, you just want to feel the wind wrap around your body and solid ground beneath your feet.

On these same nights, you would find yourself at Seungmin's door.

It's always unintentional, the way your feet would carry you to his home without your permission.

"Used to," you reiterate. "Past tense. You don't get to call me anymore. I'm not your chauffeur."

You feel his eyes on the side of your face. Then his voice, ever so calm and collected, "You came anyway, didn't you?"

His words irritate you for some reason, even though he means nothing bad. No malice in his voice; he's just simply stating a fact. You did come when he called, and perhaps the person that you're really annoyed with is only yourself, because why did you come?

He should be a stranger to you by now, and yet, you're here.

Maybe you know the answer. Maybe it's not a hard question at all.

You let the both of you wallow in silence for the rest of the drive. When you pull up to Seungmin's building about ten minutes later, you finally turn to cast your gaze upon him with your eyebrow slightly raised, a polite Get out if there ever was one.

Instead of taking the hint like a normal person and going on his merry way, he just stares at you with his big eyes and his hair still styled to perfection even after a night of celebrating and drinking. Seungmin loves to be difficult, this you can't ever forget.

"Well?" you press. "You're home."

He blinks, then swallows thickly. He looks around your car for a few seconds, unsure of himself. If he wasn't intoxicated, you would think he's trying to stall.

"I... I can't go up by myself," he says.

"Are you serious?"

He just nods, something expectant in his gaze.

"You're a grown man."

"Help me up." He doesn't sound all too drunk, but maybe he's just got a way of masking it because Seungmin would never outright ask for help. He's stubborn, and he thinks it makes him look weak. Incapable.

In the end, you give in to his request. You let him lean on you in the elevator on the way up to his floor, the scent of his cologne still overpowering the bourbon he had all night and it makes you just a little nostalgic.

At his door, you hold onto his waist and look away when he punches in the passcode. The door unlocks and this should be it for the two of you, your unexpected reunion should be ending the moment Seungmin crosses over to the other side of the threshold, but he just turns around and looks at you, his body against the frame of the door this time.

"There, you're home safely," you say. "I've done my part. Goodnight."

"Come in."

"Why?"

"I'm tired. Come in." And with that, Seungmin retreats into the apartment, leaving the door open for you to follow without any further explanation at all. For a moment, you stand there by yourself, not really sure of what to do. You hear him shuffling inside, before the sound of his body plopping onto the couch carries over to your ears.

What business do you have here? What business did you have with Seungmin in the first place today?

And yet, you find yourself trailing inside, closing the door behind you until the lock clicks into place. Maybe you're curious to see what the place looks like since the last time that you were here. The two of you never lived together - you weren't foolish enough to agree even though he did ask - but you were over often enough to consider this your second home.

Not much has changed. It's still the same minimalist four walls that you were used to. Same light gray paint, same black couch. Same framed signature of his favorite baseball player and same tiny crack in the decorative bowl on the coffee table. There's a photo on the credenza lying face down seemingly on purpose, but you don't say anything about it.

"What am I doing here?" you ask.

"Why did you come?" he shoots you the question for the second time tonight.

You blink at him. He only stares back.

"Why did you call me?" you repeat. "Why did you really call me?"

Questions thrown out but no answers received, like you're both running in circles, with neither of you knowing why you're even running in the first place.

Seungmin purses his lips before he stands up, the suddenness of the movement leaves him unsteady on his feet, makes him hold onto the couch's armrest for support. "Do you want some water?"

You bite the inside of your cheek. "Okay."

"Give me a second. Have a seat."

You watch as he pads into the kitchen a little wobbly, then returns a few minutes later with two glasses of water. He sits back down on the couch next to you, some distance dividing the two of you. He takes a sip, you do the same.

"Called you because I missed you," he says, casually admitting it like he was merely discussing the weather. The place hasn't changed, but maybe he has.

The last time you spoke to Seungmin was about six months ago, when he dropped off your things two weeks after you broke up. You haven't had any contact since, and that's exactly the way it should be for you and him now. You went your separate ways and that was it. A mutual agreement that hurts, but it was mutual nonetheless. For the past half a year, all he's been to you is a stranger. You know why it had to happen. You agreed to it.

But, just because you haven't talked, doesn't mean that you haven't thought of him. You wish he only crossed your mind in passing, wish your brain only conjured up the image of him whenever you saw something that he would like, or whenever you caught a glimpse of him on the TV or radio. In reality, it's been much more pathetic. You think of him almost every day, despite your best efforts to cleanse yourself of everything that's remotely related to the name Kim Seungmin. His absence carries itself with you all the time, a hollowness that seeps into every crevice of your life.

You know he means it. Seungmin doesn't lie, least of all to you. His honesty twists inside of you like a knife. Salt, meet wound.

You have no words to offer him, no response you can think of that would make sense to say out loud so you don't say anything. The only sound that falls from your lips is his name, like a warning, a plea, a consolation all at once.

But he doesn't seem to mind. Not his sudden vulnerability, not your reluctance to entertain that split second of honesty.

"I answered your question. Now you have to answer mine," he says. "Why did you come?"

"What do you want me to tell you?"

He doesn't respond right away. Instead, he takes a moment like he's mulling it over in his head. "Thought maybe you missed me too," he says eventually, ending the sentence with a bitter chuckle. "Just a little bit."

You tongue your cheek, stall with another sip of water before you place the glass on the table. On a coaster of course, Seungmin hates cup rings on his fancy table.

You lean back to rest on the couch, staring up at his boring ceiling. There are memories of you on this very couch, ones of you lying with your head on his lap as he plays with your hair, the two of you winding down after a long day. Or ones that are far too inappropriate to bring up ever again, of nights where you were both too desperate and impatient to take it to the bedroom. Those gentle reminders are still here somewhere, tucked between the cushions perhaps.

"Sure." You hum, nodding along. "Let's go with that."

Another chuckle, humorless. Though, you think he's pleased enough with that non-answer but you're not sure. He mirrors your position, falling into the couch with a sigh. From your peripheral vision, you think he's scooched closer to you, just by a few centimeters, in the process of settling into the sofa.

"My turn," you say. "Why do you want me here?"

"What is this, 21 questions?"

You shrug simply. "You asked me to come in. I'm just curious."

When Seungmin stays silent for a beat too long, you turn your head to watch him, thinking maybe he's knocked out because of the alcohol in his system. But you find him wide awake, his eyes staring ahead, looking like he's already sober.

His face is unreadable when he says, "Wanted to see something."

"See what?"

"See if something is still there."

It's your turn to remain quiet as you process his words, and it's Seungmin who has to turn to gauge your reaction.

"And? Is anything still there?" you ask.

"I don't know, you tell me. You're the one that stayed."

"Does it matter? If I say there is?"

"Of course it does."

"What would you do about it?"

He goes still once more. You know he doesn't have an answer to your question. What would he do? What could he even do? Patch things up only for them to fall apart again in a couple months? Once upon a time, you were naive enough to think that you could find a way to make it work. You had enough blind faith to think that it would all work out in the end; that if you wanted it enough, maybe the universe would let you have this one thing.

You return your gaze to the ceiling. He's shown you his cards, maybe it's only fair that you show him some of yours too.

An uncertain inhale, then the realization that this is the only time you would be able to have an honest conversation with him about this.

"Wanna hear something funny?" you ask.

"I have a feeling you're gonna tell me anyway."

It's anything but funny, and Seungmin is certain that you're not building up to a punchline. Sure, it's a little tragic that nothing matters, but there's some freedom, some comfort in that too. You can tell him everything that's plagued your mind for the past couple hundred days or so without having to worry about the repercussions. Even though not all is said, everything is already done.

"You know, you were mine before you were anyone else's," you say. You feel his eyes on the side of your face. The silence persists, and you aren't sure if you can take it as a sign to continue, but you do so anyway because at least he's not pumping the brakes on it, right? "I used to be jealous of your life. Toward the end, I mean."

"Jealous of what?"

"I don't know. Just your life, your dream. All of it."

Seungmin blinks. "You were jealous that I got to live my dream?"

"I said I was jealous of your life, not you," you correct him. "Because you always seemed to want everything else more than you wanted me."

"You make it sound like I was the bad guy." He turns a little defensive all of a sudden, an edge in his voice when he says, "That's not true."

You still remember him well enough to know that it is.

And it's not such a terrible thing; it's simply the truth. You can't fault him for having a dream and for having enough courage to see it through, even if it means unintentionally leaving you behind in the process. You could foresee the end even from the beginning. If you wanted to blame someone, you would have to blame yourself too.

You swerve around his metaphorical walls, his make-believe suit of armor. If you'd been nervous around Seungmin tonight, then that anxiety is now chipping away brick by brick the more you internalize the fact that nothing matters anymore.

"Remember your last show before we broke up? You were so happy, I was so proud of you. You belong on stage and I never wanted to take that away from you. But then I noticed the crowd, the thousands of people out there cheering your name and I realized that I would never compare to them. Their praise meant more to you than mine, and it was only a matter of time before you outgrew me to look for bigger and better spotlights.

"I'm not saying you were wrong for any of it. I don't blame you. You were always going to outgrow me. It's sad, but it's okay. I always knew that you'd have to leave me behind at some point. It's on me too; I just fell too hard too fast for someone who could never stay. It's your dream, you can't help it. But that night... that was the nail in the coffin for me, knowing that one day, to you, I would be just one of the faces in a crowd that you can't even tell apart."

It doesn't hurt as much as you thought it would. In fact, it's even a little cathartic to pour out the words that have been sitting heavy on your chest. Although it's not until a single tear spills over that you realize your eyes have welled up somewhere along the way. You quickly wipe it away with your thumb, then you feel his hand reach for yours after a few beats.

Seungmin calls your name, and you can hear the regret in his voice. When you look at him, his eyes have softened, no longer on the defense now that you've beat him to the offense. "I'm not drunk enough to forget about this in the morning, you know," he says.

"Does it matter? What are you going to do about it in the morning?" you ask. "We're already broken up. It's not like we can go anywhere from here. But at least now you know what it was like for me."

It seems to be a common theme tonight - stretches of silence in between admissions of truth so that one of you can gauge the other's reaction, trying to assess what path would be worth it to take at this crossroad you find yourselves unable to move on from.

Then he's tugging on your hand, pulling you to him until you're in each other's orbit again. Close enough for him to wrap his arm around you. Close enough that you're weak, not that you were ever that strong to begin with. It doesn't really come as a surprise that you let him.

"I..." Seungmin starts, full of uncertainty as he tries to string together a sentence. "We could go back."

This isn't a surprise either, that you're considering his words.

"What happens when it ends again?"

You can practically taste the residual bourbon on his breath when he leans into you, his lips brushing your cheek just slightly. "Then it ends again," he says, a little pained, all too selfish. "But it'll be worth it. It's worth it to me."

"What if it's not what I want? What if it's not worth it to me?"

He pulls back, putting some distance between your faces so he could see you better, the deep brown of his eyes searching for something that you're both aware of.

"You came tonight," he murmurs, as if that in and of itself is a sufficient enough explanation. "You stayed."

Not all is said, but everything is already done.

You had chance after chance after chance to leave, to shut this down - whatever this is - but you didn't, not even once. You're still a willing participant even though you've lived through this ending before. You know he loved you, know he loves you even if the way he goes about it is selfish.

Because you do know the answer to his questions. It's clear as day; anyone can see it from a mile away.

When your world eventually comes crashing down again some time from now, you won't blame Seungmin. You won't blame yourself either, despite having option to walk away from all of this right now.

Because maybe some pains are worth enduring twice, aren't they?

Why did you come? Why did you stay?

Is anything still there?

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 08.06.2024]

[4doras]

HAUNTED HEARTS ౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆

you signed up for a job at a halloween night park, you didn’t know a boy(friend) was part of it… ⊹♡

yujin x reader | strangers to lovers

genre. fluff (lowercase intended)

wc. 0.6k

a/n. initially had a ricky halloween fic and i didn’t like it BUT i wanted to write another fic for zb1 so here u guys go ~ ALSO i didn’t proofread this so please tell me if there are any typos or grammar issues!! ><

you got employed at a theme park for halloween, you expected nothing different from the usual, dark night, full of masked people dressed up as monsters. what you didn't know was that part of the job was; surviving the night with a cute boy. you never minded working with guys but he was different, he was your type. he, who was called han yujin, looked like a bunny, was shy, and very polite. the only thing that almost made you decline was that the shift was from 7PM to 12AM, it was gonna be a long night.

more under the cut!

you patiently waited for yujin to get dressed in his uniform and fix his hair. “so, before you let the people go, you have to pull on their safety belts and make sure it can’t move. once you’re sure they can move, just wait for me and i’ll press the button.” for every word, he demonstrated an action to match what he was saying.

when the first wave of people came in, you started getting nervous. you never liked displaying your emotions so no one needed to comfort you, but it was as if yujin could read through you. “hey, don’t worry, you’ll do fine.” he smiled. it warmed your heart when you realized that he noticed how you were feeling, you smiled back at him with a small chuckle.

you attempted to lift the belts, then once all were secured, you walked back and waited for yujin to finish his part. “you can press it if yours are secured.” you said, and yujin let them go.

while the audience zoomed off, you and yujin chatted. “so you're here every year?” you asked yujin. “mhm, my school funds this a little so i think it's good to do it every year.” he explained, while simultaneously maintaining perfect eye contact with you. “what school do you go to?” you didn’t know that a school funded this, even if it was only a bit. “Zerose High, what about you?” “i go to Zerose High, too. its weird, i haven’t seen you before.” you were confused to say the least, how come you hadn’t seen him before if you were the same age and went to the same school? “i hang out with seniors, maybe that’s why.” he sighed, “by the way, you’re really pretty.” the confession caught you off guard. sometimes, students at school would confess to you and it made you seriously uncomfortable. but it was odd. everything yujin did, you never felt awkward around him. “t-thank you,” you stuttered. you felt a warmth spread across your cheeks. “you’re cute, too.” you said, truthfully. he became shy after your compliment, it wasn’t like you were saying it to say it, and he must’ve realized you weren’t just complimenting him. you really did think he was cute.

the both of you continued your night together, always chatting between the rides like it was a tradition, slowly becoming closer within your five hour shift.

before you both left the park, you saw a photo booth. you got into the booth with yujin, your bodies basically glued to each other with the limited space. the two of you flashed silly poses, making hearts together, and whatever you could think of within the ten seconds. you couldn’t ever predict what yujin would’ve done. as you posed for your third box, yujin’s hand had found its way onto your waist, gently holding you closer. when the last box came, yujin wrapped his arm around your back, bringing you to face him and softly kissed you. endless thoughts galloped through your mind, why was he kissing you? why did it feel so natural? you couldn’t find any answer.

your hand felt magnetized to yujin’s hair, you played with it while the camera took a picture. once the camera snapped a frame, it printed out the picture, which you would cherish as your best memory forever. yujin pulled away from you, his face flushed with red.

“i like you a lot, y/n.”

i suppose working until midnight was worth it…

[jackiepackiee]

Hello! Could I request a Chuuya x reader story (no AU please) where she is someone important like a princess, and they hire the best executive to protect her when she goes to Yokohama? 🩷🩷

𝒞𝒽𝓊𝓊𝓎𝒶 𝓍 𝒫𝓇𝒾𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 - 𝓂𝒶𝒻𝒾𝒶

𝒯𝓎𝓅𝑒 - 𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎

The royal family would do anything to protect their daughter, anything. Including hiring one of the most feared men in all of Yokohama from one of the most dangerous organizations in the world.

The port mafia, with some of the most dangerous executives.

Chuuya Nakahara, that name just yelled power.

Your family was their on business, and most of the guards needed to protect the other members. Only the most trusted, highly trained, powerful people were to be working for the family.

The meeting was set late at night. One of the high floors in the port mafias headquarters. Safe to say, you didn’t exactly expect skyscrapers. But here you were, being accompanied by a woman named Kouyou to meet your new bodyguard.

“You’ll like him, I’m sure of it. He’s a gentleman.”

You looked over, this was the first time she had spoken to you.

Looking to your feet, you didn’t respond.

“I can sense you’re nervous. About meeting him I presume?” She was calm, very easy to talked to.

“I’m afraid to say I’m a bit on edge. Never have I been protected by a stranger.”

The elevator opened, sleek floors of polished marble were to be expected of the meeting floor for a princess.

“Follow me, he should be with our boss in the main office.”

Shoes clicked as the two of you walked. Hers much more confident than yours.

Then, you met with a group of bodyguards in front of some wooden doors. They swung open, revealing a ginger man. He was facing the wide windows overlooking the port city. Adorn in a very expensive looking suit. Very well dressed was he, kinda cute too.

Next to him was a seated man, supposedly the boss. Mori. He noticed you and Kouyou first.

“Well, we have been expecting you.”

Chuuya turned around to see who he was speaking with. He waved politely to Kouyou before taking you in. So simple, yet so classy.

Even if you knew you should’ve said hi to the boss, you focused on your new bodyguard. And he was just as focused on you.

“Chuuya, this is your new assignment.”

He smiled, and tilted his head as a greeting.

“Hey princess.”

Leaving the office, he walked next to you. It was awfully quiet.

“Where are we going?”

“Eh? Oh, just your new place. It’s nice, and right next to mine.”

You looked at him from your peripheral, then back to the floor with speed when he looked at you too.

“Nervous? That’s alright, I’ll protect ya.”

“I’m… not nervous.”

He laughed, well more of a quick one.

“Why is that, princess?”

“You seem very strong…”

You didn’t mean to be so honest. Shit, what if he-

“Thank you. You know, how about we tour the city first? I’m sure it’s your first time in Japan.”

“How can you tell?”

“I have a feeling~”

You felt butterflies in your stomach, was he teasing? Why did this wanted criminal have to be so damn alluring?

“And I have a feeling you’ve never been around a princess with those manners of yours.”

He froze, and quickly stopped smirking. Until you laughed. When he realized you were teasing too, he rolled his eyes playfully.

“You’re feisty. Good thing, I thought this mission would have me walking on egg shells with everything I do.”

Soon, a group of men walked by. They stared at you, obviously not the stares you would want. And hell, was Chuuya pissed.

“The fuck you looking at? Damn underlings, move those eyes before I crush you!”

They quickly looked away, terrified. No wonder he was your bodyguard.

“Say princess, how about that tour?”

He took you through the city. It was beautiful, the port was cool and calming. The ocean smell was like a lullaby.

It was alright, until a group of thugs saw you. An enemy organization.

He grabbed your hand, and hid you in his coat. Gun shots went off, and you thought that was it. You were good at dead.

Until, no bullets hit you.

Screams from the men. You try to look, but he pulls you to his chest.

“No, I’ve got you. No need to look. Stay right here, pretty.”

You hadn’t noticed you started shaking, the guns obviously scaring you.

“Let’s go to where you’re staying. A nice, warm bed.”

Had you started, floating? What in the world?

“Shh, it’s okay. I’ll get you back.”

Soon, the cool air went away. And so did the noise of the city.

He moved your body gently away from his, and your feet met the ground.

“Where are we?”

“My plac- I mean, where you’ll be staying.”

“It’s warm.”

“Let’s get you to bed, princess.”

[literary-motif]

Public Eye

Zaros Atha'lin x Reader

You humiliate Zaros in front of a crowd.

Warnings: social anxiety, panic attacks

Zaros grew up with the knowledge that practically everybody and their dog hated him. His family was unpopular, he understood that, and despite every effort he made to make an ally of the rest of the Serulan population, somehow his unpopularity with the nobles always made him out to be the villain. 

He liked to think he was quite good at hiding how much it affected him. His mother used to tell him that he should not care about other people’s opinions and that he needed only his sense of what was right to lead him on the way of his life — but that did not mean that their words did not sting. 

You grew up in the spotlight. Your mother’s politics painted you in a favorable light to everyone — because criticism of her would be criticism of you, and truthfully she was rather well received. You could part a crowd effortlessly, getting people to avert their eyes and whisper words of awe. You never learned to care for the harsh whispers of strangers because you already had everything you wanted in life. 

You were at the top, looking down on all the common folks whose only way of feeling a part of your grandeur was by talking about you — and you never passed up a chance to remind Zaros of that. 

When you walked through the streets of Serula together, which was not an unusual occurrence now that you were preparing for the trials, he was keenly aware of the awe-struck glances you received from everyone — including the people who your mother seemingly forgot in her politics for the upper classes, including the people who he so desperately wanted to make heard — and the looks of contempt thrown his way. 

“Is that Sarl Zaros?” he heard someone whisper. “He’d do better to crawl back into whichever slump he came from. Nobody wants him and Nira here!”

The venom with which the stranger spat his mother’s name made his fists clench, but he would not have survived as long in the public’s constant sneers and insults if he had been half as hot-headed as you. Zaros took a deep breath, keeping his gaze straight ahead, and continued walking. He was too caught up in the simmering rage this injustice invoked in him to notice your triumphant grin.

You had won the public’s favor long before his mother entertained the idea of contesting the throne. 

What you did not know, and what he had tried to keep from his mother for years, was that Zaros performed utterly horrific before a crowd. The people gathered around him made his heart thunder, their disdainful glances made him want to shrink into himself and hide from the harsh judgment he knew they were casting upon him. Zaros hated crowds. He hated social interactions with people who saw him as an evil threat. 

It was only his luck that you loved to get under his skin. 

“Sarl Zaros, how convenient seeing you right now,” you greeted, fake cheer coloring your tone. The two nobles you were conversing with in the courtyard turned around to look at him, their eyes on him enough to make Zaros tense. “Why don’t you join us? We were talking about your political ideas.”

He cleared his throat, his mind racing for an excuse. “How kind of you, Earis,” he said, holding your gaze for only a moment before letting his eyes wander to the bush of roses next to you instead. “My mother is expecting me, however. Perhaps another time.”

One of the nobles snickered. “Like mother like son,” they said. Zaros vaguely recognized them as belonging to the Ponvillus family. He bit his tongue, the sneer causing anger to overshadow his anxieties. 

“Pray tell, what is that supposed to mean?” he asked, holding the noble’s gaze. 

“He talks,” you said, nudging the other noble’s shoulder. She only laughed, as if remembering a private joke between you. “Watch out. Once he starts, he won’t shut up.”

“I don’t think this conversation is fruitful at all,” Zaros said, giving you a bitter glare. “If you want to insult me, please go ahead. There is no need for me to join your circle of conversation, however. You’ve never had a problem talking ill of me behind my back, why would you need to say it to my face now?”

“How sensitive, Zaros,” you said, stepping closer to him until you were face to face. You clasped your hands behind your back, standing before him as if inspecting a very particular flower.

He did not like the triumphant smile on your face. He did not like the two nobles behind you, watching your every move, waiting for the right moment to chime in with laughter and insults directed at him. 

You always commanded a crowd so effortlessly. He was envious of your talent. It seemed like a natural byproduct of your upbringing, and his terror a natural side effect of his. 

“Sensitive?” he asked, keeping his gaze fixed on you. 

He could debate with you. He could argue with you — only you. It was so much easier to get under your skin when you two were alone — when there was no biased audience to tear him down without listening to a word he said. At least you never disregarded him, no matter how much his words annoyed you or made your blood boil — you always listened.

“Sensitive like the— the time I found you crying over your brother’s grave?” 

Your face fell. 

Perhaps that had been too much. 

The thick silence made Zaro’s breath hitch. His palms were sweaty. He felt his heartbeat picking up. This conversation had taken a horrible turn. The noble’s faces were frozen in an expression of shock and disgust. How was he supposed to rule over a kingdom if he could not even hold a discussion without crossing a line?

You clicked your tongue. “How eloquent, Zaros,” you said, a chilling coldness in your eyes that turned his mouth dry. “I find it interesting how you spit the most hurtful things in private, but you always trip over your words whenever we’re not alone. I wonder why that is?” 

He swallowed thickly, giving you a warning look. When had you caught up on this? How closely had you observed him?

“I’ll tell you why that is,” you continued, making his heart seize painfully. 

He did not dare raise his gaze to look at the nobles behind you, no doubt listening attentively to gather more fuel for the venomous image they had of him. 

“I think you know exactly how much everybody hates you. It eats away at you, knowing they will never listen to you, no matter how brilliant you think your ideas may be. They won’t care, because they can’t stand you. They look at you and see nothing but a waste of space. They wait with bated breath to find fault in everything you do. They are observing you, not because they care, but to remind themselves of why it is that they hate you so much. You are nothing!” you spat, “and if you think you will ever keep yourself on the throne, take a walk around the city and remember how much the people you want to help actually despise you!”

Zaros was frozen, looking at you with wide eyes. His breath caught in his throat, and he felt the blood drain from his face. 

You were right, that’s what hurt so much. He knew you were right. 

Your words would have made him pause at any time. Now that you delivered them in front of an audience — and their taunting laughs registered only now that he thought of them, hearing their mocking chuckles as if from underwater — he could not help feeling utterly destroyed by them. 

He was helpless, caught like a deer in headlights. Not a single thought came to his mind in retort, he would not even find the breath to reply if he tried. 

The laughs were drowned out by the rushing of blood in his ears. He felt sick, nausea churning in his stomach at the public humiliation you had put him through — at the truth you had said aloud. He took a step back, his eyes darting across the courtyard numbly. He felt ready to collapse any minute. 

He was unsteady, the feeling of frozen shock steadily bleeding into the panic he knew so well. His mind began screaming at him to run, run, run— get away, find a private spot before he fell apart in front of the pitiless eyes of the public. 

Zaros turned away from you. He could not breathe, he could not think. There was a sinking feeling in his chest that made him hover on the line between numb shock and panic. He was holding himself together with every last shred of his iron will, but with every step that led him towards the library, he felt his throat burn more and more. His chest felt tight, and when the heavy door shut behind him — blocking out the laughs and taunts that rang in his mind regardless — he felt the scale finally tip, and he collapsed to the ground with a breathless wheeze. 

He was dying, you had finally done it. He could not breathe, and no matter how tightly he gripped the books to ground him, he could not get your words out of his head. They tore him apart over and over again, the knowledge that you had said them for all the world to hear made him want to dissolve into dust. 

He banged his head against the shelf behind him. The hurt did not even register in his panic. His cheeks were wet with tears, but Zaros did not feel them falling from his eyes. His blurry vision made him panic more. He could not see. The world around him did not feel real anymore. He was slipping through the cracks of this reality, slowly bleeding into the ground beneath him until there would be nothing left of him at all. 

At least that way he did not need to face anyone ever again. At least that way he never had to endure their taunts and disgust and hatred ever again.

A loud bang echoed through the library, making him gasp. Gods, he did not want anyone to see him. What would it matter if he was going to die anyway? 

“Zaros?” 

The thought of feeling anyone’s eyes on him made his stomach drop, a sickness running to his very core and making him retch. 

“Zaros!”

The voice sounded familiar. Through his blurry vision, he saw your approaching form. Zaros squeezed his eyes shut. He should have locked the door. Out of all the people, why did it need to be you?

“Come— come to— glo—gloate?” he stuttered breathlessly, biting out the words with as much venom he could muster. 

Why could you not leave him alone? What more did you want? Had you not humiliated him sufficiently? Did you need to twist the knife in an already fatal wound? He had never thought you to be cruel, perhaps he did not know you at all.

You dropped to your knees before him, reaching out a hand to touch his shoulder. Zaros flinched back, the touch burning and making him want to crawl out of his skin. 

“Breathe,” you said calmly, retreating your hand. 

He wanted to laugh at the absurdity. If he were not currently drowning in his panic, he would have shot you a glare so dark it would have haunted your nightmares. 

Breathe, you said. What did you think he was trying to do? Where were the other nobles? Were they lingering in the doorway, mocking him quietly? Did you follow him here to gather more ammunition to use against him later? 

‘Sarl Zaros?’ you would say with a mocking smirk, giving him a dark glance, ‘He can’t rule a kingdom, he can’t even face a crowd! Zaros? Do you mean the pathetic mess I found hyperventilating in the library? He would break in a single council meeting!’

“We’re alone,” you said, shifting to sit next to him instead. You did not try to reach out again. “I took the different entrance, they don’t know I’m here. Can you try to take a deep breath?”

He shook his head, drawing his knees up to his chest. He buried his hands in his hair, tugging at the blonde strands. This was all too much. He was slipping, freefalling into nothingness. “Can’t— can’t—” he panted. He could not calm down enough to breathe the air he so desperately craved.

“You know,” you began, keeping your voice calm, “back when I was younger, I thought the palace was haunted. There was a time when I did not dare to walk the halls at night, because I was afraid that the spirit of my brother would appear before me, and somehow blame me for being dead. I know it had nothing to do with me, but it always felt wrong to be alive when he wasn’t. Even now, I feel I am trying to take what is rightfully his. I used to attribute every little thing to his presence, the rustling of the curtains at night when there was no wind, the weird scratching I heard on my door at night, and the steady footsteps on the stone floor of the halls. 

“It was ridiculous, of course,” you said with a shrug, “but I always thought he was there. One day, when I could no longer take it, I went to his grave. I told him to leave me alone, that I was sorry he was dead but that I could do nothing to bring him back and that the injustice he felt was justified, but that I was innocent of fate’s doing. 

“My mother heard me, and she sat me down and told me that it was not him being envious of my life, but rather watching over me, making his presence known despite no longer being amongst us. I found the sentiment hard to understand at first, but then I thought of it less as a haunting, it was him checking in on me from time to time. It was just an unusual way of doing so.”

You glanced at Zaros. His breathing was still elevated, but it had evened out considerably. Your distraction had worked. 

“I’m sorry about what I said,” he told you, leaning his head against the bookshelf and closing his eyes, taking a deep breath. “I— I don’t know why I said it. I suppose I was panicking. I wanted to lash out before you did. I know how much he means to you.”

“I know,” you said, catching his gaze and giving him a comforting smile. “I’m sorry as well. I was not anticipating this. I knew you struggled with publicity, but I never thought it was this extreme.”

Zaros hummed, closing his eyes. He was exhausted. The sun had already set, and the library was only illuminated by the glowing torchlight streaming through the large windows. 

“Can you make it to your chambers by yourself, or would you like my help?” you asked, giving his shoulder a gentle nudge to keep him awake. “You know I don’t mind.”

“Fine,” he replied, begrudgingly blinking his eyes open again, “and thank you.”

[bxtchycaprisun]

obstinate (1) | a. anderson

summary: you’re a new medic in the WLF base. you’re young, hardworking, and the thing that abby anderson hated the most, stubborn.

tags: fem!reader, medic!reader, protective!abby, soldier!abby, sorta enemies to lovers, angst, slow burn, mutual pining, all the good stuff

an: guys i don’t know how tf to use this app please help me, but also, enjoy this fic (will have multiple parts)

all changes to the original game plot made intentionally

MDNI!!! will contain sexual themes in future chapters

part 2 here

abby anderson had a distinct image on the WLF base.

as Isaac’s right hand man, top scar killer, and holder of the highest max on bench press, she wasn’t someone any WLF member wanted to mess with.

and out of every soldier on the base, she was the last person expected to be out drinking at 2 am in the WLF “club”, only hours before she had to leave for her morning patrols. yet here she was, sat with beige cargo pants hugging her thighs, and a fitted polo with the top buttons undone, staring out into the crowded dance floor.

this wasn’t a scene abby had often found herself in, but due to her roommate and closest friend manny’s persistent requests that she finally join him out drinking one night, she had given in.

it was no surprise when only half an hour into the night she was sitting alone on a barstool with an old fashioned in her hand, watching with a disapproving gaze as manny bounced around the dance floor hitting on every woman in the room. she only just began her lonesome sulking when she heard someone slam themselves in the seat beside her with a huff, and grumpily order a vodka soda from the bartender.

similarly to your companion beside you, who you had not yet noticed was watching you carefully, you weren’t exactly enjoying yourself either.

“you alright there?” you hear a slightly amused voice from beside you, causing you to roll your eyes.

great. you thought. more strangers trying to talk to me

“i’m just fine thanks for asking” you reply shortly, without turning your eyes to meet with the person to your right.

“you don’t look fine. you look…” you hear her take a pause, and you sip at your drink furiously as you stare into the dance floor. “frustrated” she finishes.

just as you were about to make some snide remark back at the random woman, you turn your head towards her and instantly feel the color drain from your face.

though you had never spoken to abby directly, and you were fairly new to the base, you instantly knew who was sat beside you. your eyes blow wide as you bite back whatever comment you were about to release, and she smirks at you knowingly. of course you hadn’t met abby in person, not until now, but you did know a thing or two about her. one being that she was not a force to be reckoned with.

and you, a rookie medic who was already on thin ice with a couple other WLF superiors, were about to tell her to fuck off. and to top it off, you were drinking only hours before your shift at the infirmary. play it cool, just play it cool.

you chuckle awkwardly as you try to quickly recover. sliding your drink so that it’s a little more concealed behind your body as you respond.

“i just.. got reminded why i don’t like these kind of things” you respond with a polite smile.

abby purses her lips together as she nods her head, her knuckles noticeably flexing around her glass as she turns to face the crowd again.

“understandable” she replies simply, before shifting her body to face yours a bit more, her lids creasing warmly as her blue eyes gaze at you. “i’m abby, by the way” she extends her hand gently and you accept. your grip is firm but your hands are soft. abby blinks as electricity jolts through her fingertips.

you tell her your name, and she repeats in back to you in a hum, as if testing it out. the way it rolls off her tongue makes the tips of your ears go a bit hot.

“don’t believe i’ve seen you around,” she takes a sip from her drink, “are you new to the base?”

you nod, mimicking her body language as you grab your own glass, trying to ease the anxiety still lingering at the back of your throat. “i’ve been here for a couple months. i’m a medic”

over the course of the next forty minutes, abby surprises herself with how easily she gets sucked into a conversation with you. you were a great listener, an intriguing story teller, and most of all, you were genuine as you spoke.

you, on the other hand, were pleased to discover that the most feared woman on the base was, in actuality, an introverted bookworm who truly didn’t seem scary in the slightest.

and as the clock read 3:22 am, the two had already forgotten of their initial distaste for the bar, for the crowd, and for the drinking. you were so immersed in conversation you almost didn’t notice that your shift started in only thirty minutes.

you quickly rise to your feet and begin gathering your belongings. “shit, sorry abby” you apologize swiftly and she raises an eyebrow. “my shift starts in thirty” you add guiltily and she nods her head.

“right” she replies softly, and for a moment you notice a slight pink hue on her cheeks, “sorry, lost track of time. h-how long is your shift?”

you shrug your jacket over your shoulders and turn to face your new acquaintance. “i’ll be off around 4”

“oh. oh” she replies quickly, instantly furrowing her brows. “that’s a long shift”

you chuckle at this. “yeah. i’m used to it, average night in the infirmary” you say simply, but she doesn’t seem to amused.

“right well.. i’ll see you around?” she asks with wide eyes, getting up from her seat as well.

“yeah” you say with a warm smile, “i’ll see you around”. you turn on your heel and leave the bar, redness flooding your face the second you’re out of her view.

. . .

from the moment you stepped foot out that door, abby was floored. it was rare that she’d ever say more than a quick hello or “may your survival be long” with anyone other than her close circle of friends, but something about you intrigued her more than she could put to words. something that clicked in her brain the moment you slumped beside her. and when you talked, god there wasn’t a single awkward lull or gap it was all so… natural. knowing herself, and how difficult she can be when it comes to meeting new people, especially in that sulking mood she had been in that day, this was saying a lot.

you had not left the mind of abby anderson since that night, which was approximately 2 and 1/2 days ago. that was until this exact moment. now, you were the last thing on her mind.

as she crouched behind a crumbled countertop of a gas station, her partner danny laying pale faced, gripping his bleeding thigh, she really thought she was a goner. arrows and bullets rained on her surroundings as the hoard of scars pushed closer to her.

she raised her pistol over the counter but was left with only the hollow click of an empty magazine as she pulled the trigger. “shit!” she groans as she pulls her body back behind the crummy cabinets.

abby had had close calls before but not like this. she couldn’t help but face palm and throw her gun to the ground, truly unsure if these were her last moments. her mind flicked to your face once again and she huffed.

it’s her fault. she couldn’t help but think. not in a malicious way, but in a scolding herself manner. you had distracted her, it was true. and as she let her brain get hazy with the thought of meeting the new medic, she hadn’t noticed how cornered she’d become.

abby pinches her eyes shut, trying to think of something, anything she can do to save her ass, when the sound of new shouts and bullets dropping ricochet within the building.

she snaps her head up and sighs heavily with relief as several WLF trucks tear through the warehouse. after a few short minutes of combat, the soldiers wipe out the scars easily, and abby emerges from the rubble.

she swipes her hand under danny’s back and hauls him to one of the trucks. “gunshot to the thigh.” she grunts as she hoists him up, informing the soldiers that gingerly place him on the bench.

abby takes a seat at the edge of the truck and finally takes a moment to breathe after her exhausting shift. her inhale is quickly cut short as a blurred motion catches her eye.

crouched at danny’s feet with a first aid pack strapped across your back, you are too preoccupied to notice abby’s presence behind you, let alone her dumbfounded expression.

there you were, in all your glory, comforting the sobbing soldier as you cut away the material around the wound. under normal circumstances, she’d be thrilled to see you, but right now, she looked as if she blew a fuse.

you hear your name called from behind you, but the gentle tone quickly turns sour as you hear a “what’re you doing out here?”.

you whip your head around, brows already furrowed at the accusatory sentence. your eyes soften as they are met with a familiar face. “abby” you smile, choosing to ignore her angered expression. “are you alright? any injuries?”

abby’s jaw slacks slightly as you scan her body for any wounds. “n-no i’m fine but, what’re you doing here?” she asks, more demanding this time.

“i uh-” you snap your head back to danny’s injured thigh as you reply, still confused by the way she was talking to you. “i’m just tagging along today to help out. y’know? normal medic things” you wait for a moment for a reply, but when you’re met with silence you add a bit on. “he’s really lucky actually, bout a centimeter to the left and the bullet would’ve hit his femoral artery-”

“what the hell do you mean you’re tagging along?” she interrupts quickly, her frustration now clear in her voice.

you turn back, your face a bit red now as you return her annoyance. you didn’t know what she was on about, but you weren’t having it. “listen whatever this is, abby, nows not the time, i’ve got work to do.” you reply coldly, shocking even yourself with how quickly your dynamic changed.

abby was taken aback. granted your kind and gentle demeanor from when you’d met those nights ago, this side of you was vastly different. although, she supposed she didn’t have much room to talk.

she plops beside danny so she can meet your face as you continue your work. “look i’m sorry i came across like that” she begins tightly, her eyes darting everywhere but meeting yours, “but i need you to explain to me why exactly you’re out here, because you shouldn’t be.”

you scoff a bit as you sanitize the soldiers wound, shaking your head. “you’re really great with apologies” you remark sarcastically and she scoffs back.

she mumbles your name in a warning manner before repeating her question “why are you out here?”

“i already told you” you purse your lips, “they sent me out to help with any injuries on the field.”

“who? who sent you out?” she demands.

“i dunno” you huff and turn to face her, eyes completely unamused. “whoever makes the damn schedules?”

abby sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. before turning to another soldier. “jeremy? why the hell do we have a medic on patrol?”

your eyes flick between the two of them as they conversate as if you aren’t even there. “i’ve been wondering the same thing. apparently Isaac’s been sending a couple of ‘em out. trying to minimize our losses” the soldier responds with a shrug.

“well he’s gonna maximize them if he keeps sending out medics who are untrained in combat” she barks, taking her anger out on the entire truck of soldiers.

you frown and speak up. “funny you’d just assume that i’m untrained in combat” you retort, but immediately regret it, and snap your jaw shut.

“w-well are you?” abby questions quickly, a bit of her worry dissipating from her eyes.

“well… no i’m not” you answer with eyes down and abby groans.

“god am i gonna give isaac an earful tonight” she mumbles in annoyance and you can’t help but feel all the more insulted. who the hell does this girl think she is? she was so kind a few nights ago, so humble. and now? now she was exactly the person you’d expected her to be. controlling and egotistical.

you can’t bite it back in time as your reply slips out, your tone a bit more harsh than intended. “i can take care of myself anderson. i don’t need you babying me”

“oh i’m sure you think that” abby curls her lip as she speaks. she hates that she’s acting like this, hates that she’s taking issacs bad decision making out on you, but she couldn’t help it. she was angry and you just didn’t get it.

and though you would never admit it, she was right. you weren’t like the soldiers out on this patrol, you didn’t have their training, their skill, their resources. but you had already had so many slip ups in just your couple months at the base. you sure as hell couldn’t afford to say no to your assignments. and right now, you were paying the price of neglecting your weaknesses.

not only was the girl who you had adored meeting flaming you for these decisions, but the sting in your lower back had only worsened. as the trucks had pulled into the warehouse only ten minutes prior, you made the mistake of exposing yourself just a little too much, and were now left with a bleeding gash from the arrow you had painfully ripped out.

maybe from desperation to prove yourself, or just pure stupidity, you found yourself tossing the arrow out the truck, concealing the bloody wound with your first aid pack, and swallowing back your pained grimaces. you would deal with it when you got back.

like red hot lasers in the back of your skull, abby bored her gaze into your head as you bounce from soldier to soldier on the crammed truck, tending to any wounds you could.

you knew that she was watching you, but you didn’t have it in you to speak to her again. while her intention was most definitely out of concern for you safety, you didn’t see it that way. you were strong, you were capable, and you could handle a simple patrol. you didn’t have time to argue with the brick wall that is abby anderson.

as you hunch over to wrap gauze around a soldiers ankle, you couldn’t help but let out a small grimace at the feeling of your waistband rubbing painfully over the gash in your back. your face, for only a brief moment, scrunches in pain before you quickly regain composure. you resume the task at hand, assuming no one had noticed your moment of clear discomfort.

but oh. did you assume wrong

you hear abby’s voice call your name from behind you, but this time her tone wasn’t firm, it was gentle, and concerned. “yeah?” you respond hastily as you bandage up a woman’s shot hand. suddenly you feel the weight of your backpack gently eliviating from your shoulders, and you whip your head back to face her.

“what’re you-” you start frustratedly before being cut off.

“your back” she spoke sternly as she dropped your bag on the floor and placed her large hand on the small of your back, pressing down hard. you jump slightly at the pressure, jolts of pain shooting up your spine.

“yeah i know” you attempt to brush her off and continue with your work, but she holds your firmly in your place with another hand on your shoulder. “i’ll deal with it back at the base, don’t worry about it”

she scoffs beside you and her mouth turns to a scowl “don’t worry about it” she retorts, “what even did this? an arrow?”

“yeah” you reply before turning back to your patient and mumbling “just keep pressure on it until we get back”, so you could deal with abby’s questioning.

“jesus you see, this is why you shouldn’t be out here!” she yanks you away from your work, gingerly as to not hurt you anymore, and pulls you onto the bench. “just” she begins with clenched teeth “sit still for a minute. we’re almost there”

abby pulls up the material of your shirt to reveal your wound, and lets out a hiss. she grabs a piece of gauze and covers it immediately. it was bad.

“what are you some kind of idiot?” she seethes, and immediately regrets letting that word leave her lips.

your mouth twitches to a frown, unable to generate a witty comeback. she was right after all, and you hated it.

as the truck pulls into the base, abby yells out to those checking us in “we’ve got four injured” before turning her attention back to you. as she climbs out of the truck, she flips around and holds her arms out, guiding you gently down onto the ground.

you land on your feet softly, and promptly begin walking to the infirmary, the meddling soldier following closely behind. “hey s-slow down” she calls with urgency as she stumbles a bit to catch up with you. “you shouldn’t be moving so much with an injury like that.”

before you can open your mouth to protest, you feel a firm hand slide across your upper back, and hook around your ribs, hoisting you up slightly as you walk. she takes your fingers in her hand and slings your arm over her shoulder, taking nearly all your weight off your feet. you turn your face to her with a slacked jaw, but she stops you. “don’t. we’re almost there”

as you enter the infirmary and she props you up on an open bed, it doesn’t take long before a medic is by your side, stitching your wound. “we’ve got it from here” the medic nods at abby and she inhales sharply, stepping away from the bed.

you watch with a narrowed gaze as she floats about the room, checking in on injured comrades, fist bumping the occasional patient, and eyes, ever so often, meeting yours.

and as abby had lingered in the infirmary as long as she could, frequently scanning your face for any sign that the stitches were too painful or the blood loss too heavy, she finally turned on her heel to approach the stubborn medic she had met at the bar.

“how you holding up?” she questioned with a gentle smile, shifting her weight to one leg. it was clear her demeanor had switched, or at least, she was trying to switch it.

“i’ll be good as new in a couple more stitches” you smile tightly as the medic finishes. “am i cleared to go back to work?” you ask the doc. after receiving a nod of approval, you hop to your feet and grab your bag from the floor.

“wait now hold up,” she cuts you off and puts her hand up in protest. “you lost a lot of blood, you need to rest up” she says with a curled lip.

“abby-” you shake your head, already growing annoyed at where this conversation is going. “i am fine.”

“no don’t abby me.” she mimics your tone before continuing “and you’re not fine, you need to just.. take a minute to rest”

“this place is swarming with injured soldiers,” you begin to walk away from the girl, “a medic can’t afford to just take a minute”

“well i-” abby looks at you with a blank stare. she wasn’t used to her orders being ignored. she was a person people followed, and in most cases, treaded lightly around. this was unfamiliar territory. she clears her throat and straightens her posture as she continues “i’m your superior, and i order that you rest” she cringes at her own statement, but at this point, she’s run out of ideas.

you look at her with a raised eyebrow, before you let out a light chuckle “my superior” you shake your head “well my apologies” you say sarcastically as you pull rubber gloves onto your fingertips.

abby was appalled. never in her time in the WLF had she been spoken to like this. in any other circumstance, she would be fuming. but it was you, and shit she had already snapped at you far too many times today.

she couldn’t help but mentally face palm herself. when she had met you, she wasn’t the abby she was being right now. she was kind, and friendly. she would talk about movies and old coins. she wasn’t the grunt soldier who sharpens her knives while barking orders. she wasn’t the abby that you needed a proper scolding from.

“i- excuse me?” she musters up her toughest voice, but you’ve had enough.

you snap your head towards her in frustration, “listen abby” you narrow your eyes “i appreciate your concern, for the most part, about my well being, but i really need to concentrate on my work”

she looks like a kicked puppy as you brought your eyes to hers. abigail anderson, top scar killer of the WLF, being brushed off by a newbie medic. her ego was beyond bruised, and you could see it.

she should have yelled at you. should have screamed that you were disrespectful and needed to follow her orders. she should have humiliated you in front of the entire infirmary, demanding that you go home until you finally gave in. but she didn’t.

“uh- right” she brought her hand to behind her neck as she stepped back. “i’ll uh.. leave you to it”

before you could blink, the soldier was walking out the door with clenched fists and a face hot with embarrassment. your cheeks are red with annoyance and you scoff as you grab your med kit and storm to greet your first patient.

you regretted being so snippy, you knew abby only had your safety in mind. and as you glided from patient to patient, swallowing the occasional pain med, you would lift your eyes hoping to be met with abby’s blue ones.

but they never did.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

── THE GLASS PRINCESS // FOURTEEN

Series Synopsis: You wake up in a strange room with no memories, broken glass at your bedside, and a prince named Zuko as your only chance at figuring out who you really are.

Chapter Synopsis: You use Quynh’s powers to escape to Ba Sing Se once again.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Zuko x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 4.6k

Content Warnings: complicated relationships (strangers to friends to lovers to enemies to strangers to lovers to enemies to lovers), amnesia, alternate universe, lots of secrets and lying and mystery

A/N: normalize blaming the world’s problems on long feng and captain chhay…public enemies numba one and two !! (blaming the fact that i lowkey hate this chapter on them too ngl)

“Well done, Chhay,” Long Feng said. “As soon as I am named regent, I will appoint you as the captain of the Dai Li. If you agree to keep doing my bidding, I will ensure that your salary is enough to fund all your luxuries.”

“I would’ve followed your commands no matter the compensation,” the young Earthbender said. Chhay had only just joined the Dai Li, and yet he had been singled out by Grand Secretariat Long Feng already, identified as a remarkable talent. Just for the recognition alone, he would’ve done anything. Extra pay was an additional benefit — certainly, he and his wife could use it, so he would not complain.

“It’s for that reason that I’ve selected you, Chhay,” Long Feng said. “It’s for that reason that I trusted only you to kill the king. And it’s the same reason why I’m approaching you with another job.”

“Whatever you ask, sir,” Chhay said. “You only need to say the words, and I will do it.”

“This request is a little more abhorrent,” Long Feng said. “I need you to kill a pregnant woman. Can you handle it?”

Chhay thought about his own wife, whose stomach was just beginning to swell with the beginnings of a child, and then he nodded. As long as it was not her, what did it matter to him?

“I’ll do it,” he said. “It’s as I promised. You’ll find no supporter more loyal, Long Feng. When you are regent, you will serve with me as your right hand.”

Chhay made his way down the hallway, balancing a cup of milk in his hands as he approached the royal chambers. The servants scuttled out of his way when they saw him; no one questioned his presence, even though it was out of the ordinary for him to be visiting the area. He was a Dai Li agent. He could do as he pleased without fear of retribution or questioning. 

Her second pregnancy had been harder on the queen than her first, or perhaps it was the recent loss of her husband that had left her in this state. Either way, she was a depressing sight, sallow and worn, her cheeks sunken and eyes like pits, though she managed to smile at Chhay when he entered her room. He did not return it.

“Thank you,” she said, accepting the glass and holding it in thin, shaking hands. “I didn’t realize that you Dai Li were the considerate sort.”

“We do what we can,” he said. “Anything for her royal majesty, the Queen Regent of the Earth Kingdom.”

She took a sip of the milk, which he had warmed and stirred sugar into. Her nose wrinkled, for she obviously found the drink far too sweet for her tastes, but it was as Long Feng had predicted — she was far too polite to stop drinking it, far too well-mannered and high-born to ever do something as rude as rejecting his gift.

“The baby will be born soon,” the queen said. “Tomorrow or the day after, perhaps.”

“Hm,” Chhay said, not finding any particular interest in the conversation but needing to stay until she had finished and he could take the cup back with him.

“My husband wanted it to be a girl,” she continued. “He made sure to tell everyone he encountered about the news. But you’re new, aren’t you? So you likely didn’t hear him. Oh, he was so excited that we were going to have another baby. He would lay his cheek against my stomach for hours at a time, talking to her — he was convinced it was going to be a girl, you see, he even had her name picked out and everything — telling her how she’d be the most loved girl in the entire Earth Kingdom. He promised that as long as he was there — as long as he was there, she’d never want for anything. He’d take care of her no matter what. Even though he never met her, he loved her so much, to the point that Kuei got jealous of how his father spent all of his time waiting for an unborn baby to kick so that he could feel like she heard him. That's why they went to the zoo together, he hated seeing Kuei so upset, but then…”

She broke down into tears, covering her mouth with her hands and rocking back and forth on the bed as sobs wracked her body. Chhay watched her, waiting for her to compose herself. It took her a second, but eventually, she did so, taking deep, crackling breaths before finishing off the last of the milk and handing it back to Chhay.

“Thank you again,” she said. “I’m sorry for burdening you with all of that. Please be well. If you have a wife, remember to tell her you love her.”

“I will do that,” he said, leaving the queen to continue sobbing alone in the chambers she had once shared with the king. The door shut behind him with a note of finality, and he trained his gaze on the pewter bottom of the cup so that he did not have to look up.

It was fine. Long Feng said that nothing would happen to the child. It was that kind of poison which he had fed to the queen, a rare one that worked in peculiar ways, and so he had no reason to feel guilty. He hadn’t killed an innocent baby. He hadn’t killed anyone innocent at all. He had only done what the Grand Secretariat demanded him too.

The very next day, the queen fell sick. The best physicians in the kingdom were called to look at her, but none of them could discern what the matter was. She held on admirably, he had to admit, struggling to live for just long enough that she could be certain her child would survive.

She died the minute the young Princess Y/N was set in her arms. Chhay had been there, though he had hidden to watch her final moments, employing every bit of his Dai Li training to avoid detection.

“A girl,” the queen whispered, too weak to do anything but let the baby rest against her breast, her arms arranged around her daughter by one of the doctor’s. “So beautiful. You look just like him…”

The baby began to wail as she was abruptly ripped away from her mother, a wet nurse doing her best to soothe the girl. It was futile, though; she continued to cry and cry, as if she understood that the circumstances of her birth had been unfair, as if she could not bear to live without shrieking her frustrations to the world.

There was only one moment when she was silent, and it was when she locked eyes with Chhay. He thought he had been so well-concealed, but there was no doubt about it: Princess Y/N saw through him. Still wet with birthing fluid though she was, he nonetheless felt that, for just that one instant, he was staring at someone who knew what he had done and was judging him for it.

“Quynh!” you shouted breathlessly as you ran into the Den. She was awake immediately, her great head rising as she regarded your countenance. Her nose twitched, and then her eyes widened and she growled.

“Why is there blood on you, Y/N?” she said. “Were you attacked? Are you hurt? Who was it? Why did no guards step in to protect you?”

“No,” you said. “No, Quynh, I was the attacker. I’m the one who hurt someone else. I killed someone.”

“What?” she said.

“Captain Chhay of the Dai Li,” you said. “He’s the one who killed my father, as well as the assassin who came for me while I was in Ba Sing Se. He and Long Feng have been conspiring against my family for who knows how long! I was caught in Ba Sing Se, so Long Feng assigned Chhay to be my guard, but I knew that if I dared to sleep in front of him, it might be my final act. I pretended I had had a nightmare to lure him closer and catch him off-guard, and then I — I — I killed him.”

The magnitude of the act was starting to sink in, and your vision swam the longer you stared at the rust staining your palms. Wiping it off on your dress was futile; though your skin was clean, you were not. You had killed a man.

“Shh, it’s alright,” Quynh said, quick to pick up on your every shift in mood. “It’s alright, Y/N.”

“What have I done?” you said. “I killed him! I killed a person! What does that make me?”

“You did what you had to,” she said. “What would have become of you if you did not? What would have become of Kuei?”

“He must’ve had people who cared for him,” you said, pacing back and forth, rubbing your hands against your skirt. “There must be people who will wonder why he hasn’t come home. Even Chin the Conqueror was someone’s son; doesn’t that mean Captain Chhay was, too? And I killed him.”

“But weren’t you someone’s daughter?” Quynh said. “Until he stole that from you, that is? As you said, he killed your father. He is directly the reason why you have suffered so greatly, why Ba Sing Se has suffered so greatly.”

“I still ended his life,” you said. “Doesn’t that mean I’m a monster?”

“No,” Quynh said. “You cannot be faulted, princess. Understand this now, and understand it well: if you want to save your kingdom, then this will not be the last time you kill. In order to ensure peace, you must mete out death in equal measure. How many men do you think I have torn apart with my claws? More than you can count. More men than years I have lived. If I allowed myself to be lost in regrets, then I would be paralyzed with doubts or dead from indecision. The truth is that if a person threatens me or the people I love, then I cannot allow them to exist. It must be the same for you.”

Captain Chhay had killed your father. Captain Chhay would’ve killed you. He would’ve killed your brother, the only family you had left, the only person in the entire world who you were certain loved you as much as you loved him.

“I could not allow him to exist,” you repeated, the conviction chipping away at your lingering doubts. “When he was so set on my family’s destruction, I could not allow him to exist.”

“That’s right,” she said.

“But I don’t want to be like that,” you said. “I don’t want to kill the people I’m responsible for protecting. I don’t want to kill more men than I can count.”

“You needn’t,” she said. “Sometimes, though, it cannot be helped. I am not telling you to kill senselessly, without reason or justification. All I am saying is that if you must do it, then do not linger on it.”

Quynh was a spirit, and one born of Father Glowworm’s powers to boot. Her morality was tainted by the immense time she had lived and the malevolent source of her power. What did it matter to her if a man died now or in twenty years, when to her, those twenty years would pass in the blink of an eye?

“I will do what I must,” you said. “For my people. For the Earth Kingdom, and also for its king. Yet I do not think I can ever forget how it makes me feel. I do not think I will ever stop wishing I did not have to do it.”

“If you did forget, then you would cease to be yourself,” she said. “I do not want that for you.”

She was right. If you became the kind of person that killed without thought, that murdered without care for the consequences of those actions, then you would no longer be Princess Y/N. You would be another girl entirely, and the very thought made you shudder.

So you would kill, if that was what the situation demanded. If it meant protecting yourself, your home, your brother, or whatever else you deemed to be of import, then you would kill again, as you had tonight. Of course, it was not a decision which was lightly made, but one which was necessary. It was one that only you could make — you, the princess, the bender, the girl who cared for her subjects more than anyone.

“I have to go,” you said. “At any moment, they’re going to find Captain Chhay’s body and realize I’m gone, and I have to be far away by then.”

“Where will you go?” Quynh said.

“Ba Sing Se,” you said. “I have to go back. There’s things I have to do in the city. A person I have to explain things to — after all, I might not ever see him again, not if things go the way I need them to. And then, after that, there’s another person whose help I require, and I must go to him and ask him for it directly.”

It seemed counterintuitive, but the truth was there was no time safer to go to Ba Sing Se than now. Nobody would dare to be seen on the streets, not in the wake of the Dai Li’s brutal suppression of the earlier riot, and you had until the morning before Captain Chhay’s body was discovered. The night was yours to do with as you pleased, and you had to take as much advantage of it as you could before the sun rose and you were once again hunted by Long Feng and the Dai Li.

“You’re risking your life to explain things?” Quynh said. “You’ve already been caught once and already been nearly killed numerous times. Who is so deserving of an explanation that you will go to them in spite of that?”

“You know already,” you said. “But as I said, it’s not just him. The only way I can help Kuei in any way that matters is if you let me do this. I’m aware of the danger. I’m frightened beyond belief. But I have to do it.”

“It’s foolhardy,” she said.

“Yes,” you said.

“You’re drunk on the rush of victory,” she said. “You might’ve been able to catch Captain Chhay by surprise, but do you think you could face the Dai Li if they swarmed you?”

“I don’t know,” you said truthfully. “Perhaps not.”

“Reckless girl. Rash girl. Why must you be so similar to your father? Why do you never listen to those who advise you?” she said. You startled when you saw that she was weeping as she spoke.

Even though Quynh had never met your father, she had known him, as she knew all of those who were descended from Shan. She had loved him, too, loved every one of your family’s members as her children, and she had told you once that she could feel all of your deaths as stabs in the heart. She had felt his death like a stab in the heart.

“The Earth Kingdom was doing alright when my father was its ruler, wasn’t it?” you said. “Maybe things weren’t perfect, but they were okay. Being compared to him isn’t the worst thing.”

It was the grief that naturally accompanied vengeance. Your father’s killer was finally dead, but that didn’t mean your father was coming back. He would never come back. Your father was gone, and it was for that reason that Quynh was crying as she opened the door to Ba Sing Se.

“Thank you,” you said, and then, because you were overwhelmed with a bout of emotion from seeing her weep, you said, “I love you, Quynh.”

“I love you, too,” she said. “Go, before you are out of time and Long Feng finds you again.”

You shoved aside your misgivings and began to run as fast as you could down the passageway she opened for you. There was not a second to waste, and so you sprinted at top speed, praying you’d reach him in time, praying he didn’t hate you now that he knew who you really were. He couldn’t, right? After all, he had protected you during the riot. He had found out then who you were, and he had still protected you.

The door deposited you by the fountain, but you did not linger there as you once might’ve. Bowing your head and hunching your shoulders, you scurried down the street, staying in the shadows, though there was no real reason to fret. All of the houses had their doors and windows tightly shut, and the few stores which hadn’t been destroyed in the riot had long since closed for the night. If there was anyone left in the city who could recognize you, they were nowhere to be found.

You reached the tea shop in record time. Recalling that they lived in the apartment above the store, you looked around, trying to figure out where the door was. After all, the tea house itself was locked, and you weren’t about to break in, so you had to find an alternate method of entering that wasn’t the staircase you knew was located by the kitchen.

When your search proved fruitless, you took off one of your shoes, winding your arm back and aiming at the window. It was the only way you knew how to get his attention; however, there was an off-chance that the window was actually his uncle’s, which would be unfortunate. You wavered, suddenly doubting yourself and your methods, though of course you were limited in the scope of what you could do.

You had just about made up your mind to go ahead and throw the shoe anyways and hope that it was the right window, but that second of hesitation was all it took for an arm to wrap around your waist and a hand to cover your mouth, yanking you alongside your invisible assailant as they ran into the alleyways of the Lower Ring. Out of reflex, you screamed, but it was muffled by the attacker’s gloved palm, and though you struggled against their grip, you were not successful in breaking free.

Had the Dai Li found you again? Was Long Feng aware that you were missing? What had they thought of Captain Chhay’s death? What would they do to you now? If you had already proven too wild for a guard, then what fate was left for you — prison? Execution? Assassination? Obviously, that wasn’t something they were above. Would you face the same fate as your father after all?

You had just resolved to bend glass again when you realized that you weren’t heading towards the palace. Instead, the mysterious person had veered down a road that led towards a place you held familiar and dear: the fountain. The fountain! Did they want to kill you somewhere you had been happy? Were the Dai Li interested in poetry and theater to that extent? Because it felt more like a story than anything.

But when you emerged into the firelight of the deserted fountain, you realized that the person who had dragged you all of this way wasn’t a Dai Li agent. It was someone else, someone far more agreeable if not unexpected, and so, as you reached the fountain’s edge and he slowed his pace, you began to cry.

He stopped in his tracks, obviously alarmed by the development, but then he took in your appearance, and though he wore a mask, it was clear that he was horrified by what he saw. Bloody handprints on your nightgown, splashes of the same on your shins, possessed with only one slipper…you must’ve seemed like an entirely different person than the girl he had come to know.

“You scared me,” you hiccuped. “I thought you were the Dai Li. I thought you were going to kill me. Why did you do that? I’ve been so frightened all day, and you only made it — I’ve been so — I thought—”

Your stomach threatened to turn itself inside out as you sobbed, your fingers digging into his back, your tears soaking through his shirt as the world crashed down around you. You had almost died. You had almost died. You had almost died.

“I can’t stay for long,” you said, contradicting the way you could not bring yourself to let go. “I can’t stay for long at all. I’m in danger, and by being in danger, I am putting you in danger, too. I shouldn’t even have come in the first place, but I wanted — that tea shop idiot. I wanted to see him again.”

The Blue Spirit was gentle when he held you, unlike the last time he had tried to comfort you. He was like a wall, something solid that refused to move even as everything else was ruined around it. It was only by leaning on that wall that you could manage to keep yourself together, and so, despite Quynh’s warning, despite how the minutes dragged on, you did not pull away.

“After tonight, I might not ever see you again,” you said. “There’s a chance this’ll be the last time. I don’t know what’s going to happen. To me. To Ba Sing Se. Any of it. Tomorrow’s sunrise could be the last one I witness.”

The Blue Spirit held your face in his hands, cradling it like a glass sculpture, and there were so many things you still had left to say to him. A thousand things. A million things. Or, if you thought about it, really only one thing.

“Please,” you said. “Let me see your face. If this is the last time, then let us meet truly. Let me understand who you really are.”

You weren’t sure what you were hoping to see. Maybe you weren’t hoping to see anything at all. You just wanted to know. Once and for all, you wanted to know. The man who had given you jasmine flowers. The man who had run with you on moonlit rooftops. The man who had saved your life. Who was he really?

He ducked his head towards you, and you raised your trembling hands to untie his mask, your fingers fumbling with the carefully bound knot until it was finally unwound, pushing his hood back off of his dark, shaggy hair, revealing his face to you for the first time.

No. Not for the first time. It was a face you knew so well, for you had spent so long admiring it. Eyes like gold. Extraordinary features, fine and strong in equal parts. And, most notably, a large burn scar on the left half of his face, which you placed your hand against.

“Lee,” you whispered. “It’s you. It’s been you this entire time.”

Quynh had been right, though she had not recognized the extent of it when she had said it. You had always known. There had never been a dilemma, because they were one and the same. The person who saved your life. The person who made it worth living. They were the same.

“You — you say that you understand, but do you accept it?” he said, voice breaking. He was quoting The Mask of the Blue Spirit, you realized, and unbidden, a lump formed in your throat. He was afraid, and so he was asking the same question that the titular character asked Jin. “Now that you have seen how hideous my true visage is, what will you do?”

You tossed the mask to the ground and pushed the hand resting on his scar back, so that it could instead make its home tangled in his hair. Reaching up with the awkward inexperience that came from your many years of solitude, you pressed your lips against his own in a soft kiss.

It was brief. Flitting. Like spun sugar on your tongue, you barely tasted him for a moment before he was pulling back, searching your eyes with his own, disbelief etched on his expression. You allowed yourself to smile at him until tentatively, he smiled back. It transformed his face, that smile, turning it kind and filling it with light.

“Why did you wear a mask?” you said. “Why didn’t you tell me who you were?”

“At first, it was an accident. I used the disguise to steal jasmine flowers for my uncle from a nearby abandoned garden, and that’s where I saw you that first time. But after that…it was because I thought that who I was was someone you wouldn’t like knowing,” he said.

“How could you think that?” you said. This time when you embraced him, your cheek lay against his own instead of the cool material of his mask, and the rise and fall of his body felt natural instead of mechanical.

“I just didn’t want to lose the — the way you made me feel,” he confessed against the skin of your shoulder. “No matter what, I couldn’t lose that.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed that the horizon was beginning to lighten. The sun was beginning its steady ascent, and soon it would be in the sky in earnest. You had to leave now to have any hope of making it to the Upper Ring before the rest of the world awoke, but it wasn’t fair. You needed more time. You needed an entire lifetime with him. How could you lose him so soon after finding him?

“I can’t stay,” you said. “I can’t stay any longer.”

“Don’t go,” he said. “Anyone that comes for you, we can deal with. Stay here and let them try; they will find themselves on the wrong end of my swords.”

“I won’t do that to you,” you said. “I won’t make you fight my battles any longer.”

“Then promise this won’t be the last time I’ll see you,” he said. “Promise that you’ll tell me what happened to you in the palace and why you are in this state. Promise that we will meet again.”

You kissed him once more, and this time, he did not draw away but kissed you back with equal fervor, his mouth hot and searing against yours, burning his desperation, his anger, his sorrow, into you. And this time, it was you who pulled away, pressing your forehead against his, clutching the fabric of his shirt to stabilize yourself.

“I don’t know if I will be able to come to Ba Sing Se again. Not in the daylight, and certainly not for a while,” you said. “But there is a way.”

“What is it?” he said, stroking your cheeks, your hair, your neck and your back, every part of you that he could conceivably reach. “What other way?”

“You can come to the palace,” you said. “You can come see me.”

“They’ll never let me in,” he said.

“They don’t need to,” you said. “There is another entrance. One that only you can find.”

“Quynh’s Door?” he said, his voice ticking up with uncertainty.

“Yes,” you said. “Quynh’s Door. You are loved by someone of Shan’s line, Lee. You can come and go to the palace as you please.”

“I’ll come,” he said, and there was no uncertainty remaining in his voice when he did so. “I swear I will.”

“Good,” you said. “I’ll be waiting. I swear I will be.”

By the time the sun peeked out over the rooftops and people re-emerged to go about their daily lives, you and Lee were both long gone.

Neither of you would ever return to that fountain again.

taglist (comment/send an ask/dm to be added): @rinisfruity14 @c4ttheart @blacky-rose @shizko @marsbars09 @happyplaidpersonfestival @catborglar @camilleverreault @nerdybouquetofkittens-blog @lovialy @heart4hees @stefnarda @ioonatv @vvicaddiction

[p1a9u3]

PeepHole Ch.1: Moving Day

Masterpost Ch.1 - Ch.2 Pairing: Dylan Matthews x Fem Oc

Rating: 18+ (mdni)

Genre: Neighbors/Strangers to Lovers, Smut, Angst, Fluff, Slow-burn

Summary: Moving isn't as exciting as Amoya thought, plus she may have pissed off her new neighbor.

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: (This story takes place in 2024) Mental illness (anxiety, ocd), Violent intrusive thoughts, Language, Age gap (5years), Using phone while driving

Status: Unedited

Author note: This is the first fic that I've ever posted, I've written before but I've never finished anything and published it so don't tear me to shreds, please. I chose to make an oc instead of just writing as a reader mainly because I made a whole character in my head before I wrote this so I decided to just make her an oc, if you would like a post going more into this oc of mine feel free to ask (I might post it anyway because I like her), there is no smut in this chapter btw. Please give me feedback and suggestions, constructive criticism, etc. Don't be a bitch about it though...please. I'm thinking of making this a series POSSIBLY, but I procrastinate a lot so that may never happen. To my fellow troublemakers hopefully, I do Dylan justice and my writing is at least a little bit accurate to his personality. Still, to be fair I'm a fairly new troublemaker having only found out about this man a few weeks ago, so if something isn't accurate please correct me...politely. He's become my new hyper fixation so when I saw there aren't really any fics about him I decided I should make my own so here we are. Anyway with that being said Enjoy <3. Update: Dylan is barely in this chapter

Monday, February 26, 2024 Time: 8:30AM Moving out was less relieving than you thought it would be. Having been by your mother's side for almost all your life, you'd gotten comfortable always having someone around.

'You can't live with your parents forever'

People would remind you whenever the topic of anyone's living situation would be brought up. Being twenty-seven and still living with your mother wasn't something you wanted to keep telling people, no one would take you seriously. Though your mother never pushed for you to move out, never mentioned it actually. You think you know why. You never say anything though, so you deal with the slight embarrassment, and ignore the judgmental stares you get whenever someone brings it up.

'They don't know our relationship'

More excuses you make up to justify your obstinance; and to mask the anxiety you're feeling as finish up packing your U-Haul. You had finished packing your stuff from your shared apartment and were now finishing the few boxes you had in storage. Now in the elevator mustering up the strength to carry the last two boxes back down to the truck. Grabbing the lock you had left on the floor, you place it on top of one of the boxes and stack the box onto the second one, bending down and lifting with a soft grunt. Long strides carrying you to the elevator, you push the down button with your foot. The doors open soon after, you step inside setting the boxes down as you push the bottom floor and wait. Pushing off the wall as the doors open you pick up the boxes once again, you quickly load them up into the U-Haul before grabbing the padlock from on top of the box, and then heading to the front desk of the storage building.

"Here, the unit is clean and empty." You smile at the woman as she takes the lock and keys with a thank you.

Turning on your heels you walk back to your U-Haul giving everything a once-over before locking it all up, now turning your attention to the hitch attached to the back of the Truck where your precious car is hitched too. It was a black and cherry red 1993 Nissan 240SX with a red interior, you had seen it while driving with your mom past a repair shop when you were 25, back then it had no windshield or wheels. You won't lie and say you fixed it yourself but you did invest all the money you had at that time to fix it up and color it how you wanted; you still would say it was worth it. Checking the hitch and chains attached to the bottom of the car making sure everything was set and ready.

"Everything looks good?" Your mother said making you jump

"Yah! A warning ma, please! And yes everything looks good, I packed up the last two boxes and returned the keys and lock to the front desk while you were in the bathroom." You let out a breath calming your heart from the scare you just had, your mom snickering next to you. You turn to her rolling your eyes playfully as you walk to the front of the truck, your mom following behind you.

"Good, let's get on the road." Your mom hops into the passenger seat and rolls down the window. "I wanna get home by Wednesday."

You climb into the driver's seat, buckling your seatbelt then checking your mirrors. You two had agreed on driving to your new apartment, taking turns every 5 hours, once you got there she'd help you unload and unpack on Tuesday, and your mom would then fly back to New Orleans on Wednesday. The more you think about it the more you feel yourself panic a bit.

"Okay."

Time: 9:00AM Starting the car, you let out a breath putting the car in drive and pulling out of the parking lot of the storage building. You could tell your mom was trying to keep herself calm by the way she would rub her right thigh with her right hand, it was a nervous tick she passed down to you. Unfortunately, you were just as nervous, so you decided to turn on the playlist you and your mom made while eating the night before, mixes of all kinds of genres put into one playlist to keep you both entertained during the drive. Pulling off the main road and merging onto the freeway, you glance over to your mom to see her smiling wide looking back at you. She has that look in her eyes, you know it well.

"Its happening ma." You smile back at your mom then look back to the road

Your mother places her hand on your thigh, letting out a long sigh and a soft squeeze before returning it back to her own lap. You see her wipe a single tear from your peripheral; you don't acknowledge it. She'll start bawling the second you tell her not to cry. So you pretend not to see it and start singing along to Erykah Badu, your mom turns the music up a bit and starts singing along too. You smile to yourself as you glance out your side window, watching as familiar buildings pass by in a blur, You think you'll miss this place. No, you know you will, but a part of you is kinda excited, relieved almost. You've silently always longed to live on your own, but another part of you calls you selfish for even wanting that until now

'How could want to leave your mother'

You know it's normal to want to move out of your parent's home, every grown adult has to move out at some point, and twenty-seven is a perfectly normal age to do so, You wanted to move when you were twenty-four. Hell, some people live with their parents till they are far in their thirties.

'But you know your mother may need you right'

All your brothers have moved out, they are doing good on their own, and you're the only one left. It was only a matter of time; you tell yourself. Your mom will be fine, she's dating a new man who treats her great and takes care of her. Hell he tried to hire a moving crew to move all your stuff, but you wanted to do it yourself and your mom wasn't going to let you drive almost halfway across the country by yourself.

'you could've found a place closer to her you know'

Phoenix, Arizona. You chose Phenix simply because it was affordable for you and close to LA, your mom agreed it was a good choice. There is work in LA, California is just so expensive, so you chose the next best thing. The apartment is nice from what you saw as well, one bedroom, two baths with a study. It was perfect for you.

Time: 11:23AM The drive was going well so far, your mother eating a bag of chips she packed along with all the other snacks and drinks. You were eating a Honeybun, one of your favorite snacks, and drinking water. Your mom had turned off the music and started watching YouTube with mostly commentary so you could listen and drive, Right now a video was playing talking about some ice cream drama in North Dakota. Author note: if you watched this video featuring Dylan is in Trouble, I know it's technically in the future but I don't care, this is all fake anyway. You found it interesting and kinda funny, laughing every now and then when your mom would pause to add her opinion. About two-thirds of the way into the video you glance down at the screen, there are two guys now instead of one, and one of them is wearing glasses, you glance back down looking at the title of the video 'Insane Local Ice Cream Shop Drama (w/ Dylan Is In Trouble)' You made a mental note of the second guy's name for later, his voice was nice you told yourself, he was also fine as fuck. You leaned your seat back as far as it would go, which wasn't very far, getting comfortable. You still have two more hours left to drive.

Time: 12:35PM Your mom had fallen asleep about ten minutes ago, YouTube was still playing, The next video had been the same guy as before. You looked down for a second, looking at the title of the video that had been playing for about fifteen minutes. 'Guessing Finales After ONE Episode (ft. Dylan Is In Trouble)' You smile to yourself a bit recognizing the name at the end of the title, you let the video play just listening to the guy talk for ten more minutes. You caught yourself smiling again when you recognized the second guy's voice as he joined in for the rest of the video, you took a sip of your water glancing down at the video, seeing him pop on screen whenever he had something to say

"he's funny." You mutter to yourself quietly, thinking out loud.

The video had ended and your lips fell back into their original position, as an ad played before the next queued-up video, you looked down at your GPS. 1322 miles to go; you let out a sigh.

'200 miles closer to leaving you mom'

She was helping you unpack, so you technically wouldn't be leaving her really. If anything she was leaving you since she had to fly back home. You prop your left elbow on the open window, your left hand holding the steering wheel, and your right hand comes down to your thigh, rubbing small circles back and forth.

'What happens if Devon goes back home'

Your oldest brother Devon was working at a mental facility. He was on his medication and was doing good, he managed to get a job there and has been making decent money. He was doing fine, He is doing fine.

'What if he stops taking his medication again.'

They will keep tabs on him, they know his habits, his symptoms, He is fine.

'Has another episode and gets out'

That wouldn't happen. He's fine

'He'll be there when mom gets back'

No.

"Hes gonna ki-'

-beep! beep! beep!-

Time: 2:00PM Your mom's alarm goes off, making you jump a bit. Reaching over to turn it off, your mom moans a bit as she wakes up from her short nap, stretching her arms a bit as she yawns.

"Jeste li spremni za promjenu." she yawns out, going for a sip of her water ( translation: Are you ready to switch)

Your mother's Croatian tends to slip when she's just woken up, or delirious. You nod your head looking at the next exit sign to find a gas station, spotting a Love's off the side of the freeway. Slipping off the freeway you pull up to the gas station before parking next to a pump.

"Bathroom?" You look over at your mom, she nods, unbuckling her seatbelt and hopping out of the truck, you do the same.

You both enter opposing stalls to relieve yourselves of all the water you had been drinking, washing your hands after. Your mother heads back to the truck to pump the gas as you browse the aisles for any extra snacks, spotting a honeybun you instinctively grab one, then two, and head to the cashier. You place your honeybuns on the counter and then look up at the cashier who seems to be invested in something on her phone, she wasn't wearing headphones phone volume at maybe thirty percent, you could hear what she was watching. You recognize the voice, the cashier finally looks up from her phone quickly apologizing for not paying attention.

"Oh I'm so sorry, will this be all" She quickly rings up the two honeybuns.

"No you're fine, that'll be it actually." You dismissively wave your hand pulling out your wallet to pay.

Looking down you notice her phone, she had put it on the counter, and the video on it had been paused but on the screen was that guy again, though it seemed to be a video of his own this time. You pull out some cash and hand it to the young woman behind the counter, she takes the cash, counts it, and then goes to get your change.

"No, it's fine, keep the change" Flashing a smile then grabbing your honeybuns you take another glance at the women's screen before it turns off from being left alone for too long.

Opening the passenger seat door, you climb into the seat buckling yourself in. Pulling out of the gas station your mom pulls off back onto the freeway continuing your journey. You pull out the bag you had brought for little activities, pulling out your book of choice. You had splurged at a Barnes and Noble a few weeks before you began packing, picking up a bunch of books you had either heard good things about or had been wanting to read. Red Rising was one of the books, it was also the one you were currently holding.

"I'm gonna put my headphones on, so you can listen to whatever you want." You tell your mom as you put your headphones on and pull out your phone.

You had gotten the book on Audible a while back and wanted to read and listen at the same time. Pressing play you turn to the first chapter and begin reading as the narrator spoke. Your mom seemed to have put music on, you could feel the bass as she turned up the volume and began singing along.

Time: 10:56PM Hours had passed, it was your turn now with two hours left till your next switch. Your mother was knocked out, lightly snoring as you drove in silence, you had stopped reading once you had switched. You also decide to put off reading it until you were moved in, the book had grabbed your attention, so much so, that you wanted to be able to focus on it solely; so you chose to wait. You had a couple hundred miles left to go and things were sinking in more as you drove silently. Your mind doing its usual thing, making you worry about things that most likely won't happen, even if it did, you know it wouldn't be your fault. You couldn't help but think maybe it would be though, it was a dumb thought but you couldn't help it

'What was that guys name again'

Your brain blanked for a second, random but ok, your brain goes back to the YouTube video your mom had been watching, that cashier was watching him as well. Dylan is in Trouble, you wonder what kind of videos he makes, most likely commentary. You pull your phone out glancing down and go to YouTube, you use the voice to text and hold your phone up to your mouth.

"Dylan is in trouble"

You press search, going back and forth between looking at your phone and watching the road. You look down to find his channel, press his icon, and scroll through some of his videos. Movie commentary is what you mostly see, occasionally you'd spot something different, you decided you'd dive into his channel later when you weren't driving.

Time: 5:00AM You were in the driver's seat, you had let your mom sleep more after she had been driving for about three hours. She was up now though, you could tell things were starting to catch up to her again. She was fidgeting a lot more now, well so were you, she looked very tense. She helped you find this apartment, but you assume she wants to see the neighborhood for herself, in person, wants to see how good the security is and what the neighbors are like. It's only natural, she's a mother and her only daughter is moving twenty hours away from her. You look down at your phone, your GPS says you are pulling up now, you look around the area, it was very nice, wasn't too far from the city. You spot the complex to the left, it was pretty big with multiple sections with apartments, you were building three, kind of in the middle of everything. You pull into the complex parking in front of the leasing office to speak to your landlord and to get your keys, your mom comes with you of course, sizing everything up.

"Hi welcome to Arts District Apartments, it's Amaya correct, my name is George?" An old-looking man stands from his desk, his hand reaching out to shake yours

"Thank you, George, it's Amoya actually" You reach out and shake his hand with a smile.

You two talk a bit about the complex and its rules etc. Your mom chimed in every now and then to ask her questions. Before you know it you're unloading the truck into your new apartment, you're realizing now that you didn't have as much stuff as you thought. The last thing you had left was your bed, you and your mom had been doing well with just the two of you, but after you two had gotten the mattress inside your mother's back began to bother her. Now you had your bed frame, you told your mom to relax for now and that you could get the frame up yourself. Partial lie, you previously took apart the bed frame and so there were mainly long pieces that weren't too heavy except the backboard, that thing was heavy as fuck, luckily you had a dolly at the storage building to help you carry it out, but now you have to carry it to the elevator and down the hall. You managed to get it down from the truck, and from there you lifted it and sped walked to the elevator, almost dropping the bed frame on your foot as you set it down to push the button. The doors had closed on you twice as you tried to pick the frame back up and lift it into the elevator, but alas you made it, now on the third floor and outside the elevator. You took pride in your body, you considered yourself strong, regularly went to the gym, and you would say your legs were the strongest part of your body, with that being said, you tried to make as little noise as possible since it was still early in the morning, you lost your footing. You were almost there, your door being right in front of you; but you fell. Landing on the door behind you hitting your head with a very loud thud.

"Bumbo." You whisper yelled at yourself in Jamaican as you set the frame down and leaned off of the door. (translation: Fuck)

Holding the frame upright you walk around it reaching for your door, the frame slipping from your fingers and falling against your neighbor's door again. You prayed that your new neighbor was either a very deep sleeper or wasn't home right now, though maybe you didn't pray hard enough. You lift the bed frame from your neighbor's door, getting your phone to get your mom to hold the door open for you so you can slide it the rest of the way inside. Stopping, you hear the door behind you click open. Your bed frame blocked your view of whoever had stepped out, but you could hear him.

Ch.1 - Ch.2

Updated Author note: Hopefully this was an enjoyable first chapter or part. The apartment is just a random apartment complex I saw on Zillow, everything in this is all fictional besides the YouTube videos and things that are obviously real. Anyway, I have decided to make this a series, I've gone into too much detail on little things like Amoya's intrusive thoughts and all that, and it'd be a waste to shorten and delete half of what I put and speed through everything, Amoya's intrusive thoughts and anxiety is a trait I added from myself, so you'll notice a lot of internal thinking and scenarios she makes up in her head. Hopefully, the idea is as cool as what I thought of in my head. If this does well, I will upload the other chapters one after the other, If it does bad I'll just delete everything, but please be patient I procrastinate a lot and I want the writing to be good. Please be honest and let me know how you all feel about this, if you like the writing, the main character, the pacing, the storyline, length, anything, and everything, I need criticism but don't be a bitch about it.

[once-upon-an-imagine]

billy hargrove x confident-but-short!reader ?

like after st3 and he lives. and they meet up on accident or something maybe harrington reader?

"You need a stepstool or are you too proud to ask for my help?"

"shut up and hold me up,"

''this peanut butter better be worth it-''

I love this! I love short!reader 😊😊 this is so cute! I hope you like it, is my first time writing for Billy! Warnings: none Disclaimer: I don’t own Stranger Things 😊 gif isn’t mine 😁

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Peanut Butter Aisle

You didn't understand the big thing about birthdays. You and Steve would usually just watch movies, and eat as much junk food as you could for either one of your birthdays. So you didn't get why he was now making a big deal out of Eddie Munson's birthday.

Well, you kinda did. It was because he was so in love with Eddie and he never wanted him to feel the way the two of you did. You thought it was sweet of your brother. You had never seen Steve so happy. But that didn't mean he could send you to the grocery store, with Billy Hargrove of all people, to get all the food for the party he was throwing for his boyfriend.

Out of all the weird things that happened at Hawkins your brother becoming friends with Billy Hargrove and Eddie Munson was by far the strangest you had ever seen.

"Do you have the list?" Billy asked you as you entered the grocery store. You grabbed the piece of paper from your pocket and showed it to him. "Shit, that's a lot of food" he chuckled.

"Yeah, let's just get this over with" you barely smiled as he grabbed a cart.

Since he became friends with your brother, he's tried everything with you. But you were a tougher person to crack. After almost dying, Billy apologized to everyone in the group and he slowly gained everyone's trust. Except for yours for some reason. You knew the reason, and so did Steve. He was the only one who knew that you had developed a small crush on Billy in the past few months. You enjoyed the occasional flirting back and forth, but to actually develop feelings for him was a completely different level. A small part inside kept telling you that there was no way he changed that much. That he still hated you just as much as he used to hate Steve. So you couldn't bring yourself to admit it.

"What's first on the list?" he asked as he grabbed a cart.

You didn't know what it was. He was looking particularly handsome today. You knew you wouldn't last this grocery shopping trip. You carefully ripped the piece of paper in half.

"You take this side, I take this?" you suggested.

"Are you... sure?" he asked, confused. "We've got time-"

"Yes! Meet you in the peanut butter aisle" you insisted, going one way with a small basket.

You tried to calm yourself down a little. But you knew Billy was noticing that you tried to avoid him whenever you could. But you shrugged it off and got the items in your half of the list until you reached the peanut butter aisle. And, of course, the specific peanut butter that Steve asked for because it was Eddie's favorite was on the top shelf.

"Ugh, why does it have to be all the way up there?" you muttered to yourself. You looked around but the aisle was empty.

When Billy came back to look for you, he silently laughed at the sight of you trying your hardest to reach for the peanut butter on the top shelf.

"You need a stepstool, sweetheart, or are you too proud to ask for my help?"

"Ugh, shut up, Hargrove!"

"I'm not gonna lie, you look cute trying to reach for it-"

"Just get it!"

"That's too tall" he said. "I can hold you up, though" he offered.

"What? No! Why don't I hold you up?" you asked, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

"Seriously? You're gonna hold me up?" he chuckled.

"I could!" you argued and he simply smiled at you. With his stupid charming smile. "Shut up and hold me up" you glared at him.

"You know, a please wouldn't kill you" he smirked.

"Seriously?" you rolled your eyes.

"I mean, it just doesn't sound like you to not be polite-"

"Ugh!" you sighed. "Could you please hold me up, Hargrove?"

"Was that so hard, princess?" he smirked before walking closer to you so he could help you.

"This peanut butter better be worth it-'' he heard you mutter under your breath until you finally reached the jar. "I've got it!" you smiled just as Billy slipped, almost making you fall but his hands quickly wrapped around your waist and your face was really close to his.

"You know, you look really cute when you smile and you're not yelling at me" he smiled. Your heart was beating incredibly fast. You just hoped he couldn't feel it.

"Shut up and put me down, Hargrove!" you complained as he put you back down and you placed the peanut butter on the cart with the rest of the things. "We should go" you quickly said, starting to push the cart.

"Why do you still hate me?" you heard asking you all of a sudden, making you stop and turn around to face him.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me" he said, walking closer to you. "I get that you used to hate me. Your brother, Max, and her friends. Everyone" he kept going. "But I have apologized for everything that happened and I have been trying to prove myself for several months now, so why do you still hate me, Harrington?"

It was rare to see Billy this way. And you couldn't deny that you found it kind of sweet. Because he was right. He did apologize to everyone, including yourself, and he was a completely different person than he was a year ago. But you still couldn't bring yourself to admit that you actually liked him. Because a small part inside of you still thought he would make fun of you and just go back to toying with you like he had since he came to Hawkins. So, you didn't.

"Does that bother you, Hargrove?" you smirked. "Does it keep you up at night to know that someone doesn't like you?"

"Not someone" he said, mocking your tone a little bit. "You."

"W-what?" you asked a little taken aback by his bluntness.

"It bothers me that you still hate me, okay? Did I do something to you? I have apologized for my behavior in the past but if I did something else-"

"What difference does it make? "Why does it matter to you so much?"

"Because I like you!" he blurted out.

"Y-you what?" you chuckled, nervously.

"I like you" Billy said, walking closer to you.

"No, you don't. You hate me" you insisted.

"No, I don't! I've never hated you" he argued.

"Okay, now you're just lying, Hargrove-" you chuckled, trying to turn around but he gently grabbed your hand and stopped you.

"No, I'm not! I hated your brother. But I never hated you" he said.

"R-really?"

"Are you joking? The first time you spoke to me, you kicked my car and called me an asshole" he smiled.

"Yeah, because you almost ran me over" you reminded him. "And you called me Strawberry Shortcake" you said, making him laugh a little.

"I thought you were cute" he insisted.

"And I thought you were an asshole" you smirked.

"Do you still think I'm an asshole?"

You couldn't really lie to him anymore. Not when he was looking at you like that with his beautiful blue eyes and his sweet smile.

"No" you finally said. "I don't still think you're an asshole, Billy" you said.

"I think that's the first time you've called me by my name" he chuckled.

"Do you still think I'm cute?" you smirked.

"Yeah" he said, smiling at you.

"Well, for what is worth, I don't hate you" you admitted, looking away, but Billy softly cupped your cheek with his hand, making you look up at him. "I... I like you too" you admitted.

"Really?" he smirked. "Enough to go out on a date with me?"

"Maybe" you shrugged. "If you asked" you said.

"You're impossible, Harrington" he chuckled.

"Shut up and kiss me already, Hargrove" you smiled before he brought you closer and pulled you to him, finally kissing you.

The End

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A/N: I hope you liked it! and I hope to have more stories up soon!