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garbinge · 6 months ago

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Cowboy and Pony

Tyler Owens x F!Reader

Summary: Tyler comes home with the crew after a chase and after a unpleasant run in with your ex. Word Count 4.5k Warnings: Light angst, mentions of parental death, really bad science and tech explanations for the sake of plot lol, anxiety, talk of trauma/guilt/grief, fear of leaving home, kissing and i guess PG-13 sexual situations (not really but like blink and you miss it type stuff). A/N: I saw Twisters last night and cannot get Tyler Owens out of my brain. Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @kmc1989

You knew Tyler practically your whole life. He was the boy next door, but that quickly turned into your friend next door. Throughout all of his crazy life adventures, bull riding, studying meteorology, chasing storms, you were there. Except while he was trying out a million things, you were doing one. Tinkering with shit. Some people probably would have called you a mechanic, but you hated it. Because you didn’t just stop at cars, you were the person that would dig through the garbage to find trashed parts and build a computer out of it. That’s actually when Tyler talked to you for the first time, he stood back watching you pick through his trash just to get a circuit board from an old computer. You just liked to build stuff, you learned how to solder, how to rewire shit, the whole nine yards.

Tyler wasn’t just your neighbor growing up, he was a friend. One of the best of ‘em. It’s why when he switched up to tornado chaser and asked you to join his crew there was no hesitation in your decision. You also managed to find a boyfriend, two of them actually, a jerk off one, that only lasted a few months and then the one you currently had, who was in front of your face this entire time.

You were nose deep into some project as you heard the bark from Pony, the rescued Great Dane who you spent most of your days with. It was a miracle you didn’t hear the loud speakers of the truck you knew pulled into the driveway, but then you realized they had probably been broken off or mangled to the point of repair.

“He-hey Pony, who's a good girl.” His voice was muffled, he had to have been a few feet out from the barn, which meant he was keeping the truck a good distance away from you on purpose.

Sliding the barn doors open, your eyes first fell on him. Your number one concern always being him. But when you saw that damn handsome smug face on him, looking up at you with the most apologetic smile as Pony licked his face, your eyes jumped to the truck. They were jumping just as soon as they were closing shut.

The exoskeleton of welded steel had been crushed on one side, which honestly was the least of your problems. The weather station atop had been missing complete pieces versus just a couple dings and scratches. The roof rack lights were broken and the trailer hitch was bent in an unusable position. But the firework launcher was in perfect condition still, of course.

“I fixed what I could on site.” You heard the statement through gritted teeth as Tyler stared at you knowingly.

“Oh. There was more.” You opened your eyes and saw him with an expression that could only be described as yikes as he nodded and stood up, Pony attaching to his side instantly.

“Yeaaaaa.” He was still gritting his teeth as he walked towards you with open arms, knowing he was going to work his way back into your graces. His arms were around you in seconds, and his lips on yours moments later. Reaching to the top of your head, you removed the soldering headband that was resting on the top of your head like a simple pair of sunglasses although was 5x the size. Tyler instinctively grabbed it from you, and moved his hand right back to your lower back while you let your hands cup his face. “I’m sorry.” It was whispered as he pulled from the kiss to rest his forehead on yours.

You looked up at him and noticed the smallest scratch on his face and wiped your thumb along it in hopes that it was just dirt but when the mark stayed and you felt the rigidness from the skin starting to heal already, you knew it wasn’t. “You know all that shit I build for you is so this doesn’t happen, right?”

He let out a laugh, and you felt his body vibrate against yours as he did. “It’s barely the size of a papercut, and I, uh, recall you using your wiring tools to stitch up my head one from bull riding so I’d say it’s not too comparable.” His hands were now reaching up to your face to place a swift kiss on your forehead in an attempt to ease you.

“I don’t compare, I just find a way to make things better. So now you need to tell me what happened to make this happen.” Your hands had moved against his chest.

“One of Storm Par’s guys didn’t tie down their gear right and it nicked Tyler.” Lilly was walking right by you both into the barn to drop her drone for its own repairs.

That made your entire mood change. “I’m sorry, what?” Your head jumping from Lilly to Tyler who was smiling with his mouth open readying an excuse.

“It was one of the new guys, didn’t know his ass from the tornado.” This was him trying to simmer the situation with humor.

“Yea and when you told him that, that David guy got all up in our pretty boy’s face!” Boone was also entering the barn, following shortly behind Lilly with the drone eyes and controller.

“I’m sorry, what?” That’s when your body got more tense and Tyler did everything to try and shake it off you.

David. The jerk off ex-boyfriend.

“Which ones David?” Dani was calling out from the RV, her hat crooked as she hung from the passenger door handle. It was obvious she was probably busy when the situation occurred.

“The jerk-off one!” You and Tyler both called out at the same time. It earned him a smile, you could always count on being in sync with him. Surrendering from your tension you raised your arms up again to his neck, just below his jawline.

“What’d he do?”

“Ah, you know, storm up in my face.” The irony of his statement wasn’t lost on you, it’s why you rolled your eyes which made him explain further. “You know, just said some stupid shit, Boone’s probably got it on video, probably really drive up our views.”

You didn’t give a fuck about views or watching the footage right now, you wanted to hear it from him what happened. And he read that off you immediately. “He just got mad. I mouthed off to someone in his crew, he said some shit to me and I just brushed him off.”

Looking over to Lilly and Boone, you were looking at them for the real answer. “I didn’t realize we were calling, pushing the guy to the ground, brushing him off.” Lilly was smirking as she was looking around at the pieces of the drone that were needing repairs.

“Let me see the video.” You were pushing off Tyler, who was leaning in trying to get you back in his embrace until he dropped his head in defeat.

Boone was eager to show you the footage he caught, ditching the drone and coming to your workstation to set up his camera for you to watch.

“Watch your mouth, Tornado Wrangler. One of my guys is worth all of yours combined.” A typical thing to come from David’s mouth. The MIT degree he held must’ve come with a minor in selfish pretentious douchebag.

You saw how Tyler’s tongue swiped against his bottom lip inside his mouth as he looked out past David, considering he had a few inches of height on him. “See that’s the difference between me and you, Storm Par, we value things a little differently.”

It was immediately apparent that Tyler was referring to you. Yes, he valued his team way more than David his, but Tyler knew what he was doing when he said it. David put a lot of things before you when you were dating, and the straw that broke the camel's back was when he didn’t show up to the hospital when you found out your mother was sick. This was before Storm Par and Tornado Wranglers though, this was when David was just working tracking storms in the area for his college internship and Tyler was just starting to get over taming bulls and more into taming twisters.

When David joined Storm Par, you were already with Tyler for about a year, so it was much to his surprise when he saw you at one of the many motels on the storm trail in Oklahoma not only on top of the red dodge RAM truck fixing something, but also on top of Tyler at the little bonfire gathering in the field adjacent to the motel later that same night.

But it wouldn’t have mattered if you were together with Tyler or not. The two never got along, when he first met David from when they both started chasing the same storms, there was always something in the air.

“Yea, we do. Extremely difficult and exhausting emotional baggage weren’t high on my must-haves when I was looking for a girlfriend.” It was the exact words he used when you broke up with him. Correct, you broke up with him, and he hit you with the yea this isn’t working, you’re extremely difficult and the emotional baggage is beginning to exhaust me line. The extremely difficult line was probably in reference to not wanting to build machines for him to use to track the weather, modeling equipment, etc. And the exhausting emotional baggage was the whole your mother being sick thing. He clearly was still using the statement which meant he thought it was effective. And it was. At getting pushed to the ground.

After the words left his mouth, Tyler’s hands were on David’s collar bones and shoving him with such little effort but enough to get him to stumble to the ground. Tyler smirked, a fully sarcastic look as he shrugged his shoulders and lifted his hands. Very that’s what you get of him. “Told you not to talk about her, Storm Par.”

“You told me not to say her name.” David was annoyingly dusting off his shirt, knowing that physically he couldn’t take Tyler even on his best day. The secret was, you knew he couldn’t outsmart him even on his worst day either.

“Hm.” Tyler was taking a couple steps closer now, really towering over him now, blocking any sun from David's vision as he stood tall looking down at him. “Well let’s just add it to the list, huh?” Just as Tyler was about to step away, the smirk on his face went from sarcastic to a full blown smile as he grabbed the ‘not my first tornadeo’ t-shirt that was on Boone’s shoulder and tossed it down to him. “Here, something to change into, you got a little dirt.” He pointed to his own torso when he said it.

That’s when the camera flipped to Boone raising his eyebrows, “you mess with the bull you get the horns!” His fingers raised to his forehead where his pointer and pinky finger were extended in the rocker sign and his teeth gritted to imitate a bull.

“Classy.” You looked up to see Tyler still in the same spot, at the entrance of the barn leaning against the door frame, arms crossed. “Maybe next time we can get you both knight costumes and we can make it a true fight for my honor.”

Despite your satire, he knew you weren’t mad. “Next time, huh? That mean you comin’ on the next chase with us?”

That was the question. It was so much the question, that everyone was looking at you now. Lilly, Boone, Dani, and Dexter. After your mother got really sick, it was hard for you to leave the house, when you needed time for yourself, you’d come to the garage barn and work, that way when she needed you you weren’t too far. When she passed, you were away, on a chase which held enough guilt to basically move you into your barn. The house was merely a place for you to eat, sleep, and shower. And have sex with Tyler, although the barn had seen its fair share of that as well. Now, you had explained it as a habit–preference even, you preferred staying home, it was habitual. But everyone really knew… it was that emotional baggage.

Even though he was mentioning it now, you knew there was never any pressure to go. You used to go. But ever since you got that call from the nurse’s aid that your mother had passed in her sleep while you were 75 miles away, it was hard to pull yourself from here.

“Let me bring the truck in here.” Avoidance.

The keys were being dangled from Tyler’s fingers before you could say another word. As you jumped into the driver’s seat of the truck, you looked down to see a note on the odometer with your name on it.

She got a little more mangled than expected. But can’t wait to tell you about the chase. Give you a little sneak preview, twins, changing wind shear and a surprise. Did what I could on site to fix the ol girl but no one’s as brilliant as you, especially with the vehicle sonar. You probably didn’t notice the vehicle sonar was broken. I’m sorry, did I say that? I don’t think I said that. I love you, I’ll say that too, in hopes that it’s enough for you to forgive the state of the truck, and if not, I brought back barbecue to win your love back.

These were your favorite; they made you feel included, like you were there. And Tyler knew that. Tucking the note into your jacket pocket, you pulled into the garage barn and got to work. About an hour in was when you were interrupted by the smell of barbecue and Tyler attached to the plate.

“Winning back my love?” You called out with a smile, your legs extended out on the roof of the truck as you installed the new-old weather station to it.

He placed the plate next to you, barely needing to reach up to get it that high and jumped into the bed of the truck. “And if not yours then Pony’s.” He was picking a piece of chicken off the plate and tossing it to the Great Dane who was nestled in the corner of the truck bed. “You get my note?” He was standing in the bed now, leaning against the back of the truck cap, his arms crossed on the roof as he watched you work.

“Of course I did. You gonna tell me about,” You pulled the wrench away and looked in his direction while trying to remember the keywords he gave you from the chase. “Twins, and the shifting shear.”

“Don’t forget the surprise.” He was picking up the fork from the plate and waving it as he spoke. “Yea, so we caught twins, although they didn’t look like twins, one was thin, small radius, the other was growing, kickin’ up a lot of dirt.”

“Which one did you follow?” Despite not being much into meteorology, Tyler talked enough about it for you to learn a lot, and even though you hadn’t been on a chase in while, you knew the ins and outs pretty well still.

“The wrong one.” Now he was pushing the fork in your direction, knowing you wouldn’t stop what you were doing long enough to relax and eat.

“The shifting shear.” You mhmed in acknowledgement to the word in his letter about the wind change and also as the taste of your favorite Oklahoma barbeque spot filled your taste buds.

“Yep.” He nodded, “We lost it and Storm Par didn’t.”

“Before or after your run in with David.”

“Before.”

“Then, Tyler Owens, I think you still came out on top.” You said it while still looking at the plate, about to grab more food but the interruption of Tyler’s arms pushing him up on the truck roof, his boot stepping up on the fixed exoskeleton to boost him up so he was on top of you.

“You’re damn right.” He was leaning his face dangerously close, as if his body atop of yours wasn’t dangerous enough. The slightest touch of his lips met yours and any thought of barbecue and fixing weather stations was out of your brain, in fact any thoughts at all were gone from your head aside from the many thoughts of Tyler caressing you. “I missed you.” That was until he said that.

He meant well, and you missed him too, but it just reminded you of not being there. Tyler picked up on your change in mood immediately, his left arm pressed against the metal of the car so he wasn’t as on top of you anymore, his face twisted in concern as his eyebrows raised in a way to ask you what happened but as you thought about how you wanted to explain he got it without you needing to share a word. “Fuck.” Dropping his head and the confused concern, his head fell on your shoulder. “I didn’t mean it that way. Even earlier today, I just–”

“Miss me. I get it.” Your hand fell on his head, your fingers getting tangled in his blonde locks, your mouth moving to pepper kisses on his head as well. “I missed you too, for the record.” You mumbled it against his head.

He moved off you and fell next to you, his hand cupping your head as he placed a kiss to your forehead as he moved. “There’s never any pressure. At your own pace.”

“Says the guy who faces his fears by riding them. If I was anyone else, you’d laugh and scream cowboy obscenities as you walked away from me.”

That caused Tyler to laugh out loud, his body vibrating against yours as his laughs fell in the crook of your neck. “You’re not scared.”

“I’m scarred.” Making jokes was the only way you felt comfortable really talking about it.

“And for the record, you’re you, not anyone else, so yes I treat you differently.” He left a kiss in the crook of your neck as he left it. “And what are cowboy obscenities?”

You cleared your throat and began hollering typical midwestern slang and finished it off with the Tyler Owens tagline. “Woooohooo, if you feel it chase it!”

There was his laugh again, buzzing against your body, making you miss him even when he was right damn next to you.

Things quieted down for a bit and the two of you sat up and finished off the plate of barbeque on the picnic table you turned the roof of the red dodge into. “So, I was thinkin’ you know how you have the buttons in the truck to release the rockets and drill in and all that.” You spoke like you weren’t the one that helped him install all of those gadgets.

“Mhm.” He smiled thinking the same thing, his arm propped up on his folded leg.

“Well, Storm Par they have those data trackers, the things they gotta get out of the car and place down around the vortex.” You explained.

“Think it’s the PAR in Storm Par.” Tyler teased.

“Exactly, Phased Array Radar. And I know we have the drone, which is great but what if we could have both? Footage and data.” Before Tyler could answer you were jumping back down to your work station and moving some things around to pull out a mechanism you had been working on before the group arrived back.

Tyler was following behind you, not as quickly paced but still intrigued. “Okay so this we could install in your truck and attach it to this.” You were now showing a large panel that had hydraulics on it. “And basically, you press this and the truck bed flap will open and this will move out, dropping whatever you want out, you guys won't have to leave the car.”

Tyler nodded as he took it all in, impressed, as always. “Pretty sure the handsome fellas at Storm Par use 3 of those bad boy radars though. Don’t think we could get the RV that close to a twister.”

“I’d build you a data catcher where you’d only need one.” Already having the answer to his question you folded your arms and smirked. You had the mechanism to release it pretty much done, now you just had to build the radar, no biggie.

“How?” He copied your pose, arms crossed, leaning more on one leg than the other, although his eyebrows were frowned while yours were raised.

“Because you just have to drop it in the vortex.” Now his eyebrows raised and before he could ask his one more follow up question, you were answering it for him. “And I’m planning on building one that shifts its panel, so even when the twister passes, you can still track it for up to 5 miles. Dorothy reimagined.” You were referring to the hundreds of sensors people would generally have zipped up into a tornado to radio back data.

“We’d have information on the twister way quicker.” Tyler’s brain was starting to wrap around this idea.

“It’s not perfect, it’s not going to change much but–”

“It’s a way to get more information faster, that’s pretty big.” He stopped you from doubting the idea. “And keeps us from needing to race against the twister outside the truck.

“I’m nothing if not concerned for your safety.” You pointed at him with the large switch in your hand while he walked over to start helping you piece some more things together. The two of you fell into a silent groove, working on the idea you had just shared with him, rewiring things and going over different equations to best prepare the data capture radar. As time passed, Tyler looked over at you from across the workstation and spoke up.

“You know, I get why you can’t come out. I know prolly better than anyone how much your mom meant to you, what seeing her get sick did to you.”

Shifting your focus from the lamp lit table covered in wires in front of you, you looked up at him. His eyes were staring at you, softly, it was something he seemed to want to share for a while and was just waiting for the right moment. And he was right, Tyler did know. It was the perk of growing up with him as your neighbor, he just knew things because he was there. Not only did he know, but he experienced them with you. He’d come by for dinner, bring you any piece of tech or electronics him or his aunt didn’t use anymore. When you popped your bicycle tire riding home from school, he picked you up in his aunt’s truck even though he didn’t have a license. On those weekend trips you’d so often take with your mom, he’d come by and check in on the barn, on your family pets. When she was sick and 90% of your time was spent making sure she was okay, he was making sure you were okay. And when your mom passed, he was the one who drove you the 75 miles back home in the same red pickup truck when one of the most historical twisters touched down.

It was memories and thoughts like those that always made you wonder what took you so long to realize you were in love with Tyler Owens. He’d love to tell everyone now that he knew from the moment he saw you picking through trash that he loved you. That when you were rushing down the high school hallway with some contraption you made explaining to him that you made it to help him with the focusing issue he had casually brought up to you was when he realized he could never lose you. This person who knew neither of them had the money for noise cancellation headphones and just decided to make them herself with a playlist of his favorite songs in one night to help him focus? You cared about him. And he could never lose that. Which is why he could never tell you that he was in love with you. He watched you date losers, even went on his own dates too sometimes to see if he could get over the feeling. The only thing comparable was bull riding. Or storm chasing. And with that came you, because as much as you didn’t realize you loved Tyler, you knew you loved being around him.

“We can start slow if you want to get out, maybe we can go away for the weekend, go to that town you and your mom used to drive out to in Texas, Sun Valley, right?”

It was honestly the perfect idea. Getting out and doing something that reminded you of your mom. “Yea that’s a good idea.”

He sensed the hesitancy in your voice though and changed the topic quickly. “Never asked me what the surprise was.”

“What’s the surprise?” It was spoken in a mockery tone, you knew he’d get around to telling you.

“Be right back.” He was eagerly standing up from the table and lightly jogging down the driveway into the RV where Dani and Dexter were probably working on making sense of the data they had already captured.

As Tyler came back into the barn, Pony whined and tilted his head as the scent of what Tyler was carrying entered the barn. He had a young dog in his hands, although the dog was big enough to likely not be a puppy but you could tell from his face, he still had a few more young months ahead. It was a real dog and pony show, literally.

“Found him in the aftermath rubble, pretty sure his owners didn’t make it because no one claimed him.” The heaviness of his statement hit you as you stepped out and made your way towards both Tyler and the dog. “Didn’t have a nametag on ‘em.”

“Cowboy.” You grabbed the dog from Tyler’s hands, giving him his name, and scratched him behind his ears before putting him down on the ground to meet Pony.

As you looked at both dogs, now curiously sniffing and playing together in your workshop barn, Tyler tossed his arm around your shoulders and kissed your head. “Pony and Cowboy.” He nodded.

“You bring him home because you don’t think Pony has it in her to protect me all by herself?”

“Somethin’ like that.” He smirked. “Plus now, you got an excuse to stay home more. You got a puppy to raise.”

#twisters #Twisters 2024 #tyler owens #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x you #twisters fanfiction #tyler owens fanfiction #my writing #garbinge

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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year ago

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Dead Man Walking || LN4 {2}

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader Summary: Christmas with the Norris’ is a long standing tradition but will that still be the case after this years? Warnings: 18+ only, angst and fluff WC: 3.5k F1 Masterlist || one || two

Flo’s old bedroom in her parent’s house hadn’t changed since she moved out. There were still glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling that you had helped her to stick up when you were fifteen. Lando had made fun of them and called them lame as walked past the doorway, but he had still come and held your chair stable when you were precariously close to tipping over.

“What are you staring at?” Flo asked as she walked in to find you lying on her bed, eyes on the roof.

“Nothing, have you picked a dress yet?” She huffed at your question and opened her closet with a shake of her head. “You do realise the party has already started.”

There was no way to miss it with the christmas music drifting up the staircase and echoing along the hall. Every year was the same, it didn’t matter that all their children had left home - Adam and Cisca still held the annual event and attendance was non-negotiable, even for you.

The bedroom door opposite Flo’s opened and Lando froze from tugging at the black tie as he caught sight of you. A slow smile grew on his face and he started to take a step forward until Flo appeared with a dress in hand. She held the floor length gown up to her body and swayed the metallic-finish material side to side. “What do you think?”

“Didn’t disco balls go out of fashion in the 80’s?” Lando teased, drawing her attention to the doorway.

“Didn’t ask your opinion, noob,” she shot back as she grabbed the door and shut it in his face. “I can’t believe he’s staying all week too. Doesn’t he have anything better to do?”

“You should be thinking about your dress right now,” you reminded her as you got up and searched the rack for another option. “Here, this is perfect.”

You could hardly explain to her that you were the real reason Lando was staying local all week. For six months you had stolen nights together, not only avoiding the paparazzi and fans always trying to snap photos of him, but more importantly, Flo. The guilt was a constant fist squeezing your stomach but every time you thought about telling her the truth, the fear of her response kept your lips sealed. Then months had passed by and you thought it would be even worse to admit how long the secret had been kept.

“Babe! This is why you are my best friend,” Flo exclaimed as she dropped what she held to take the emerald green chiffon dress from your hands. “What would I do without you?”

Your smile was forced as you wondered the very same thing. Your mothers had joined the same playgroup before you could walk but you had crawled to Flo and face planted, accidentally headbutting her and making you both cry, but you had been inseparable ever since. Whenever you made a promise to each other it was sealed with the mantra from cradle to grave - ensuring the promise would be as strong and long lasting as your friendship.

You caught the empty hanger she tossed back and hooked it back onto the rack. “End up looking like a disco ball, apparently.”

“Not even,” she said with a roll of her eyes as she shimmied into the dress. “I refuse to take fashion advice from a man who has a hoodie for every occasion.”

You laughed at the completely true statement and pointed at the door. “Not tonight though.”

“That’s not by choice. Mum said he had to smarten up or he would be on dish duty after dinner.” She scoffed as she turned around for you to tie the lace back together. “I told her, wearing a suit won’t make him any smarter.“

You shook your head with a laugh. “If I could get away with wearing a hoodie tonight, I absolutely would too. It feels weird dressing up one day a year. I spent the whole morning here in sweatpants.”

“It’s tradition, and you look gorgeous.”

“I should for the effort I put in,” you giggled, offering your elbow as you opened the bedroom door. “Shall we?”

She looped her arm in yours with a nod as the music downstairs grew with each step. “Let’s do this.”

If you had to listen to another Christmas song you were going to scream, so you escaped the warmth of the Norris’ home and took a breath of wintery air on the balcony where it was less audible. Though there was a chill in the air the eggnog and brandy kept you from feeling the full brunt of the night and you could hardly believe there was snow forecast to fall.

The only light that reached you was what slipped through the joins of the curtains but it was enough to see the paddocks beyond the grassy lawn. This late in the year the horses that usually grazed the paddocks would be holding up in the stables, away from the morning frosts that occurred daily, but you could still hear their neighs in the distance.

“Still not a fan of Bublé?”

You smiled to the sky as a pair of cold hands settled on your waist and warm lips found the delicate spot behind your ear.

“If he hasn’t grown on me by now, I don’t think he ever will.” You turned to face Lando and linked your arms around his neck. “Merry Christmas, my love.”

“Merry Christmas, baby.” His body started to sway, taking you with him as he hummed the stupid song in your ear, laughing when you narrowed your eyes at him. “What? All I want for Christmas is you.”

Your gaze softened and you smiled again as you tucked your head into his chest and buried your hands in his jacket to try steal some warmth. “Are you cold, love?” he asked, looking back at the warm house where all the log fires were lit.

“No, I’m not ready to go back yet,” you admitted as you cradled his cheek in your hand and guided his attention back to you. “Just a few more minutes together.”

He nodded before giving you a soft kiss and pulling away to shrug his wool suit jacket off and drape it over your shoulders. “Can’t have my girl getting sick for Christmas.”

One Year Earlier “I don’t buy it,” Flo muttered over her flute of champagne as she sat to your left at the dining table, waiting for dinner to be served.

“Buy what?” you asked as your attention was pulled away from Max on your right, and the pictures of the new simulator he had just finished setting up in his room.

“Them.” You followed her nod across the room to find Lando on the couch in front of the roaring log fire, his girlfriend sat on his lap as if there weren’t two other cushions available beside him. “There’s no chemistry.”

“Eh,” you shrugged as you grabbed your glass that Max had refilled for you, “since when do you need chemistry if you’re a model or whatever?”

“You almost sound jealous,” he teased quietly, wary of Flo on the other side.

“Am not,” you bit back a little too harshly, only making him chuckle more and take a sip of his beer before he said anything else.

“Dinner will be a little late, I’m afraid,” Cisca announced with a sigh, muttering about the gravy catastrophe. “Adam, honey, turn the music up for a bit.”

“If you aren’t hung up on him, then come have a dance with me,” Max dared as Oliver and his pregnant wife joined Flo’s aunt and uncle dancing in front of the hearth, beneath the twinkling fairy lights. He wiggled his fingers as he waited for you and with a sigh you placed your hand in his and rose from your place setting.

Flo grinned as you passed by, poking you in the ribs with a laugh and giving you the thumbs up - but Max was only a friend. He could only be a friend because the person you actually pined for was his best friend.

“I know,” he whispered in your ear as one hand rested on your waist and your feet followed his lead.

“Know what?” you asked innocently, but he had caught your eyes drifting to the couch as you circled your way around the room.

“I won’t say anything, I just thought you might want to talk to someone. God knows you can’t talk to Flo about it, she would smother him while he slept,” Max joked. “And I kind of like having my best friend.” His eyes looked at the couple before he sighed. “Most of the time at least.”

You weren’t the only one vying for his attention anymore since he got a girlfriend. “You’ve been drinking too much, Fewtrell. You’re seeing things with your beer goggles on, I have no interest in Lando.”

“Is that why he hasn’t stopped staring at you?” Your head snapped around but Lando’s attention was firmly on Luisa and the very deep kiss they were openly sharing. “Totally not interested in him, huh,” he chuckled as he tightened his hold on you when you tried to pull away. “I’m sorry, it sucks, wanting what you can’t have.”

“There are worse things,” you muttered under your breath but he heard and curled an eyebrow in question. “Wanting what you can’t have right in front of you.”

He had no response but a sad smile as the song changed and Michael Bublé’s Cold December Night crooned over the speakers.

“The twinkling of the lights, The sound of carols fill the household, Old saint Nick has taken flight, With a heart on board so please be careful, Each year I ask for many different things, But now I know what my heart wants you to bring.”

“I fucking hate Bublé,” you sniffed as you pulled away from Max’s arms. “I’m just going to get some fresh air.”

“It’s bloody snowing out there,” he objected as he followed you to the backdoor. “You’re going to be sick for Christmas.”

The dinner bell rang out and you sighed as it shattered the bubble you had found yourself in and knew you would have to release Lando from your arms.

“Come to my room tonight,” you whispered against his lips before they shared one last kiss. ‘Your room’ was actually one of the guest rooms down the hall but you had spent so much time in it over the years that it was only ever referred to as yours now. It was so much yours that Cisca had even asked you for your opinion in the wallpaper when she renovated the house.

“Don’t have to tell me twice, baby,” he said with a smirk as he opened the backdoor for you. You reluctantly removed his jacket and missed the scent more than the warmth as you passed it back. Lando pulled it back on and dipped his head to steal one final kiss before stepping inside with a warning over his shoulder, “No dancing with Max this year.”

“It’s your turn to be jealous this year,” you said as you blew a kiss to him along the narrow corridor.

He paused and cast his arm out, planting his palm on the wall and blocking you from rejoining the party. “What makes you think I wasn’t jealous last year?”

“Maybe it was the tongue down Luisa’s throat, or the hand up her skirt?”

You tried to duck under his arm but he caught you around the waist and used his body to cage you against the wall. “I had to do something to distract myself,” he admitted lowly in your ear, hiding his face from your disbelieving eyes. “You were all I could think about, you and that sexy little dress.” You tilted your head back as you felt his lips on your neck as he continued his confession. “If I didn’t do something I would have gone crazy watching him hold you when I couldn’t.”

His kiss set your body on fire and you combed your fingers through his hair tugging the strands so you could capture his lips.

“What the fuck!”

Both of your heads snapped towards the outburst and your stomach dropped as you saw Flo standing at the end of the hall. Her arms were limp at her side, the blank look of shock bleeding into betrayal as her head started to shake before she turned away.

Your body reacted before your brain could, pushing Lando away as you chased after her despite his call to let her go. You couldn’t let that happen, she had always been a worrier and the longer she stewed on something the worse it got in her mind. You had to talk to her.

You raced up the stairs, apologising to Adam as you passed him in the hurry, the confusion of catching his daughter’s rush to escape clear on his face. Her door was shut and you tested the handle to find it was locked and your head thumped against the wood with defeat.

“Please, Flo, let me in,” you begged her. A quick no resounding from inside. Turning around, you took a seat on the floor and rested your back to the door. “I’m going to stay right here until you open the door.”

“You’re going to be there a very long time.”

You sat there in silence for a few minutes wondering where to begin, how to explain what happened, why, how long. Finally you decided on a simple apology. “I’m sorry, Flo. We didn’t intend to fall in love, didn’t intend on anything happening. I fought the feelings for years, because I knew what it meant to you.”

“Still didn’t stop you though, did it?” She spat, her voice closer than you expected. “I had one rule. One!”

Your make up was certainly ruined as tears spilled forth, eyeliner and mascara stealing down your cheeks. “I know.”

“They say they don’t have favourites but mum and dad have always put him first. They missed my events to go to his races,” she sobbed, a sense of déjà vu filling you as she retold the history you had consoled her through years ago. She had always felt second place to Lando. “I thought you would always be my best friend.”

Your gut wrenched as you realised what she was feeling. She thought you were choosing him over her - like there had to be an ultimatum. “I still am,” you promised, shaking the door handle again. “Please, unlock the door.” She made no move to turn the key.

“Do you remember when you got Summer and I thought you were going to forget all about me?” you asked, remembering the day the pony arrived at the house and Flo had been so excited she had run off to the stables without you. “You told me I was always going to be your best friend, from cradle to grave. She was your horse, and you could love us both, right?”

The door tugged open and you fell back, sprawled on the floor as she stood with her arms crossed. “Are you calling my brother a horse?”

“Depends, would it make you feel better?”

She rolled her eyes and offered a hand to pull you to your feet. “I don’t know yet, I’m too pissed off at you.”

“Fair enough.”

“Hey, you guys okay?” Lando asked as he jogged to the top of the stairs, his tie and jacket missing.

You screwed your eyes shut at the timing and pinched the bridge off your nose as you asked, “Can we just have a few minutes?”

He turned twice first to head back down the stairs before he changed his mind and went to his room. “You said I had changed,” he muttered to Flo as he stood in his doorway and held the door knob. “You said I looked happier than ever.”

“I’m going to vomit if you tell me she’s the reason.”

“Sorry.”

“For what? Stealing my best friend?”

You stepped into her line of vision and waved a hand behind your back hoping Lando would get the hint. “He hasn’t stolen me, Flo. Cradle to grave.” You held up your pinky and held your breath as she stared at the age old promise you had made. “I should have told you how I felt about him, but you can be really scary and I was a coward. It was still a shitty thing to do.”

“Really shitty.”

“I know.”

“I can’t believe it was you,” she said with a shake of her head. “I knew there had to be a girl. This is annoying, more than anything, because he’s not such a muppet anymore, but knowing it’s from you - I don’t know if that’s better or worse.”

“Surely being happy is what matters most, not the who or why.”

She fell silent and her eyes fell to the door that he had quietly shut. “What happens if he breaks your heart?”

You hoped it never came to that but you couldn’t see the future so you shrugged. “Then I will cry on my best friend’s shoulder like I always have.”

Her shoulders bounced once with a laugh before she caught herself and tried to appear nonchalant. “I suppose I would offer to key their car.”

“And I would say it isn’t worth it.” You reached for her hand and she let you hold it as you gave it a squeeze. “But…if he doesn’t then I might not just be your best friend, might be your sister in law too someday.”

“Too soon,” she said with a scrunch of her nose as she pulled her hand away and went to Lando’s door. “Hurt her and I’ll key your new car, noob.”

The door swung open and Lando leaned against the jamb. “You don’t have to worry, sis.”

“I love her more than you.”

Lando snorted, a sound so similar to Flo’s, and he shook his head. “It’s not a competition, you muppet.”

She appeared almost pleased, though also surprised as she nodded and stepped away, “good answer.”

“But,” Lando smirked and you sighed inwardly, “if it was I would win.”

Flo oddly didn’t respond as she started to make her way back to dinner, pausing only as she reached the stairs before looking back. “By the way, I’m dating Max.”

“What? No fucking way, I gonna kill him,” Lando growled as he took a step towards her before her head fell back with laughter.

“Of course I'm not, Lando, but now you know how it feels.”

Her laugh echoed down the hall as she descended the staircase and left the two of you alone. Facing Lando, you stared at him wondering if anything had changed but the moment of uncertainty was gone when he pulled you into his arms and kissed you without fear of being caught.

“I’m taking you to dinner tomorrow, it’s all I’ve wanted to do for so long,” he laughed as he pressed his forehead to yours and recovered from the almost blessing you had received from Flo. “We don’t have to hide anymore.”

“Tomorrow's Christmas,” you said with a smile.

“Shit, okay then, the next day. Hey!” He grinned as he pointed downstairs, his head bobbing along to the song that was playing again on the playlist. “Christmas came early for me,” he said as he dragged you to his bedroom and closed the door, silencing Bublé as he sang, ‘All I want for Christmas is you’.

“We are going to miss dinner,” you warned as he sat on his bed and pulled you onto his lap.

“There’s always plenty of leftovers, plus, what I want isn’t on the menu downstairs,” he teased as his hands brushed beneath your dress.

“Bob, what are you up to-oh!” Max covered his eyes as he busted into the room. “Bro, everyone is waiting for you two. Time and place, people.”

You stood up and pulled the dress back into place, sending Lando a look that said ‘I told you so’ before tapping Max on the shoulder as you passed him. “You can look now.”

“I think the damage is already done, the image is seared on my retina,” he said with a dramatic shake. “So you two finally…”

“Got caught,” Lando said with a chuckle, slipping his hand in yours as the three of you headed to the dining room. “No more hiding.”

Max grinned and clapped Lando on the shoulder. “About time!”

“Wait, you knew?”

“Uh…I have been in the middle of this situation for like five years. Of course I knew. I think I knew before the two of you knew.”

You frowned at the news and came to a stop halfway to the landing. “So last year?”

“Was my trying to get you two to see what was clearly right in front of you the whole bloody time. You’re welcome for that, you know. And I expect to be thanked as the best friend and wingman one can ask for in our next stream. Now can we please go and eat, I’m starving!”

Lando looked at you with a different look of hunger in his eyes as he kissed your hand. “Me too.”

Taglist {1}: @moonvr @copper-boom @yunnie-f1 @ophcelia @lightsoutletsgo @alwaysclassyeagle @neiich @omgsuperstarg @starwarssavy23 @fdl305 @faeb1tch42069 @sweetestrose569 @pleasantducktimetravel @dr3lover @writerscurse @christianpulisic10 @alexisquinnlee-bc @purplephantomwolf @belennasif @ryiamarie @mickslover @tyna-19 @destourtereaux @sunf1ower16 @octaviareina @laneyspaulding19 @booknerd2004-blog @mimimarvelingmarvel @chonkybonky @jpg3 @bangtanxberm @ohthemisssery @eviethetheatrefreak @kimi240302 @andydrysdalerogers @formula1mount @storyteller-le @dakotali @daddyslittlevillain @elijahslover

#lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #f1 imagines #f1 fanfic #f1 rpf #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction

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magicalqueennightmare · 4 months ago

Text

Things Change

Daryl Dixon x Reader

This started as a drabble about Daryl wanting to know where the rest of your tattoos are....it became this. Enjoy

Warnings: Violence, cursing, slightly suggestive at the end

"Flirtationship" that's what Maggie called whatever was between you and Daryl. You weren't sure what to call it. One minute it seemed like he was near admitting something then he'd shut back down. You knew you were friends but then there were times he'd get jealous when some of the transplants from Woodsbury would talk to you too long or get a little snippy if you went on a run with someone else. You knew one thing for certain, you weren't breaking first.

You slowly walked through the abandoned store, careful of every step you took. Michonne was two aisles over and Daryl was somewhere under the same roof. So far the three of you had gotten lucky, only two walkers had been hiding within the shadows of the old Piggly Wiggly.

This run had gone pretty well. You'd worked on the supply list for Hershel and had picked up pretty much everything actually.

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

You made it to the end of the aisle and Michonne stood there with a mischievous looking grin and her hand behind her back "What ya got?" You asked and she pulled her hand out to reveal two protein bars "The last two peanut butter ones"

You took one with a little giggle of delight. As the two of you tore into the treats you heard Daryl's footsteps behind you before he said "You sound like a damn chipmunk girl" you glanced over your shoulder at him "Don't be mad cause you didn't get one"

He stepped up close enough his chest was tight against your back. With one hand on your hip he leaned down and whispered in your ear "I could always do this" and before you could ask what he'd reached around you with his other hand and snapped a piece of the protein bar off and popped it into his mouth.

You gasped dramatically "Daryl Dixon! Stealing from a helpless woman" he shook his head "Woman, yeah. Helpless? hell no, you ain't.

Michonne shook her head and laughed "Did both of you finish your lists?" You nodded and Daryl did too so She waved towards the door "Lets get back"

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

The three of you walked together back towards the front of the store and passed a still intact magazine rack. You stopped to examine a tattoo one.

As you flipped through Michonne leaned over your shoulder looking as well. "There's some nice ink in here" you commented and she shrugged "I like your tattoos myself" Daryl looked from you to her "The rose on her arm?"

Michonne cut her eyes at you, a slight smirk working its way onto her face then shook her head "No, her other ones" "Other ones?" Daryl asked with a raised eyebrow so you tossed the magazine down and quickly changed the subject to needing to get back to the prison before everyone started worrying about the three of you.

You didn't miss how Daryl's eyes flicked across your body like he was trying to figure out where you were hiding the other tattoos, causing a trail of heat to raise across your skin as if his touch had followed his eyes but eventually he nodded "Yeah, let's get going"

A few days later you were helping Carol cook in the center of the yard and felt more than heard someone walk up behind you even before a smile worked its way onto her face. "Hey Daryl" you spoke without turning around.

She looked a little more than amused because you'd told her about the whole him questioning the location of your other tattoos thing. He bumped your shoulder with his "Wanna get out the fence for a while? Was gonna go hunt"

You cut your eyes at Carol and she nodded "I've got it covered" you turned your head slightly to look at Daryl who was standing close enough to your back he was nearly touching you "I'm gonna go grab my bow and my gun. Meet ya at the gate?" He nodded so you turned to walk off.

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

Daryl watched you walk away then looked back at Carol who was watching him with a grin. "What?" She shook her head "Nothing. You're kinda obvious though"

"About what?" She shook her head again and went back to turning the food. He stood there for a minute and considered just walking off but ever since you and Michonne had mentioned your other tattoos the thought hadn't left his mind just where those other tattoos were. He shouldn't he thinking this hard about it.

"Carol.." he started but she cut him off "Yes, I know where all her tattoos are. No, I'm not telling you. And the thing you're obvious about is that you're head over heels for her and can't figure out how to approach it. She won't bite, well i mean she might if you ask her to"

"I didn't...I'm not..." he stammered, feeling his face warm but about that time he heard your voice echo across the yard "DAMMIT DIXON. DON'T KEEP A WOMAN WAITING"

Carol looked back at him and started laughing at the look on his face "Go catch up with her. You and me both know she'll go out on her own" "Yeah, I'll catch ya later" he mumbled before heading towards the gate where you stood with your bow over your shoulder.

So far the only thing you and Daryl had managed was a half dozen squirrels, two rabbits and to kill four walkers.

You were walking shoulder to shoulder with him, careful of every step to avoid unnecessary noise. You could feel his eyes on you every now and then but assumed it was the usual "making sure you're walking right" watching.

"Think we'll luck out and find bigger game or should we just try finding a few more rabbits then head back?" You asked, turning to face him and nearly ran right into his chest.

His bow was in his right hand so his left went to your hip to steady your footing "We can make another loop to check for deer tracks" he answered and you nodded slowly, a little too focused on how tightly his hand was gripping you and on how fast your heart had started beating when he'd grabbed you there.

You took a step back making his hand fall away, readjusting your own bow in your grip "Yeah. Let's get on it"

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

He hadn't missed the way your eyes had got wider when he'd grabbed your hip so your footing wouldn't slide. This thing between the two of you was getting harder to deny.

You took a few steps ahead of him then looked back "ya coming?" He nodded "Yeah, I'm coming" the two of you continued your way through the woods, looking for any movement that could bring meat to the prison.

There was one particular transplant from Woodsbury that was on very thin ìce with Rick. Like one complaint and you were fairly certain he'd catch a bullet and get thrown to the walkers at the gate.

Francis Martin. He was a lawyer pre fall and apparently still considered himself better than other people. Even Hershel wasn't too particularly fond of him. What was worse? He was misogynistic as hell.

He couldn't understand why Rick had so many women in the group that he trusted and respected the way he did you, Michonne, Maggie and Carol. Beth was luckily still young enough to be under his radar a bit.

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

You and Maggie were working with a few of the women from Woodsbury. Some of them had no knowledge of self defense or basic weapon training so you were doing what you could.

Glenn had of course volunteered if the two of you needed someone to show how to fight with. He was slightly taller than Maggie and had a few inches on you.

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

You were showing one woman how to tuck her hand to throw a punch when you heard someone laugh and looked up to see Francis leaned against the wall watching. "Something funny Martin?" He waved a hand around "This"

You saw Glenn out the corner of your eye and shook your head slightly. As much as you loved Glenn for being protective you didn't need a man coming to your rescue because he'd never back off. You took a step towards Francis "What's funny about it? Your governor never taught them self defense or weapons training. We're trying to help them have a chance at surviving"

He pushed off the wall and took a step towards you "Women teaching women survival. It's a joke honey" you felt yourself bristle at him calling you honey. "I haven't seen you lift a damn finger to help anything. You haven't taken a guard shift, haven't helped the farming section, you damn sure don't hunt. You don't clean the kills. You don't cook. You don't help with laundry. You don't help with the water supply. You don't help with the solar panels we scavenged. What do you do?"

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

You could feel a crowd growing and knew Glenn had more than likely summoned Rick or went in search of him but you weren't taking your eyes off the sorry excuse for a man in front of you. "And you do so much? I always see you hanging off Dixon" he spat and without thinking you swung, connecting a solid punch to his jaw. He staggered a bit then spit out a mouthful of blood "You're gonna regret that you little bitch"

"Make me regret it" He recovered and swung, landing a punch to your jaw. It was a solid hit but not hard. You'd been hit a helluva lot harder. You spit the little blood it caused from your teeth slicing your lip out "That was weak"

You kicked out and it connected with his knee. He went down and you started to walk off but heard one of the women Alice scream for you to watch out. You side stepped the knife in enough time it just barely grazed your arm.

You jumped back out of his arm's reach, a shocked laugh escaping you "A fucking knife? Really" you heard Rick's voice but didn't move your eyes off the threat. "RICK, THIS FUCKING MANIAC IS TRYING TO KILL ME"

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

Rick appeared over your shoulder "Francis put the knife down and you might walk away from this" "Not before I kill that bitch" Francis seemed like he was fucking possessed, the fragility of the male ego mixed with the stress of the apocalypse?

"Fair enough" you heard Daryl's voice right before a crossbow bolt landed dead center of Francis' left eye.

He dropped like a rock. Rick grabbed your shoulder and turned you to face him "Are you ok?" You nodded "I'm fine" his eyes raked across your body before landing on your bleeding arm "He cut you" you shook your head "Barely a graze"

He leveled you with a look so you sighed "I'll go see Hershel" he nodded "Good girl" then looked around "It's getting late. Everyone head inside. Me and Daryl will clean up"

You cut your eyes at Daryl who looked from your split lip to your arm. "You good?" You nodded "Asshole just caught me off guard with the knife and trying to make sure he didn't hurt anyone else"

Rick nodded "We need to reevaluate everyone from Woodsbury" you shook your head "he was the only weakling. It's solid now" both men studied you for a moment then nodded "Go get stitched up then head to bed" Rick said and you nodded "Yes sir" then headed inside.

Once you headed inside Rick looked at Daryl "Are you good?" "Yeah" Daryl answered quickly but Rick wasn't buying it that easily. He'd seen the anger in his friend's eyes when Francis had threatened you, mixed with how little hesitation he'd had with putting him down with the entire yard filled with people.

Rick studied him for moment before speaking again "I missed it too. I'm just as guilty for her getting hurt" when Daryl didn't say anything he added "Why don't you go talk to her when we get through here?"

Daryl finally looked up at that, "About what?" Rick raised an eyebrow "You didn't hesitate. Nothing would've stopped you from putting him down. Not because he was dangerous to everyone here but because he was threat to her directly. That means something. I think it's time you two figure out what"

Daryl just grunted in reply before kicking Francis' body "Lets get this asshole out"

You finally made it into your cell and collapsed across the cot. Your mind was going a little too much for your liking.

After you'd gotten cleaned up you'd made your way to Hershel for stitches. While you'd been sitting on top of the table in the main area people had started trickling in. First it was your group. Carl and Beth with Judith in tow. Then Michonne and Carol, ever the protectors they were. Then came Glenn and Maggie.

Your group hadn't affected you. You were family which meant you were used to all of you checking on each other if an injury happened.

What bothered you was the Woodsbury women. The ones who talked about Francis. How uncomfortable he'd made them. Comments and actions you hadn't noticed. You shouldn't shoulder the burden alone, it was the apocalypse but you felt responsible because like it or not too much of your attention had been on Daryl and the question of what were the two of you.

The guilt of if Francis had hurt someone was unbearable. You knew you had to talk to Daryl, lay your cards on the table and let them fall where they may but that didn't mean you had to like it.

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

You were half asleep when you heard a light tap on the bars. Your eyes flew open and your knife was in your hand before your brain caught up completely.

You recognized the shadow outside your cell immediately and relaxed, leaning up to lay your knife on the top bunk "Come in Daryl" you said it loud enough he could hear you but still low enough to not disturb anyone else.

He pushed the door of your cell open then pushed past the orange shower curtain you'd scavenged a while back for privacy. He pulled the cell door closed behind him then leaned against the wall just inside the door.

"How ya feeling?" He asked, eyes going to your arm where it still rested half across your face. You ran a finger down the bandage "Ten stitches. Hershel gave me the usual aftercare of keep em as clean as possible, change my bandages and when to take em out"

He nodded slowly as you sat up then scooted back so your back was against the wall then you patted the bed next to you "Cmon Dixon. Sit down" he laid his crossbow down next to your bow then sat down next to you, ducking his head.

Once he was through moving around in a bid to get comfortable you saw his hand reach out for your injured arm so you let him take it. His fingers lightly grazed the bandage "You kicked his ass even before I showed up" you laughed lightly despite the guilt you felt and leaned your head over on his shoulder "Yeah, thanks for that by the way" he nodded, "I got your back. Always"

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

After a moment he tucked you under his chin and you wanted nothing more than to curl up against him and ignore the guilt, the conversation that needed to happen but you couldn't.

"Daryl, he'd been harassing the Woodbury women. Worse than I realized" "That ain't your fault" he offered but you shook your head "I've been distracted"

He pulled back to look down at you "You ain't never gotten distracted easy" you stared at him for a moment then felt the tips of your ears warm. Was he that oblivious?

"Hell I only swung first because he said all I do is hang off you" at that Daryl laughed "Carol says I follow you around" you laughed lightly. His hand came up to brush your hair back from your face and your heart flipped in your chest. "You take care of everyone you can as much as you can. Don't feel guilt for what that asshole did"

You swallowed hard then smiled "I'll try not to" you hadn't realized you'd been staring into each other's eyes until Daryl shook his head and looked away "Ya want me to let you get some sleep?" "No" you replied without thinking and it was nearly comical how fast his eyes came back to yours.

You shrugged "I like being around you. I feel comfortable and safe" he nodded and you thought that was all would be said until he asked "That all it is?" And you were stunned with the forwardness from Daryl of all people "No, it's not" you admitted and he smiled "Good. Cause that's not all it is for me either"

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

You laughed and started to lay your head back over before a thought occurred to you, "Still curious about the tattoos?" His smile turned into a smirk "Yeah?"

You climbed off the cot, Daryl watching you carefully. You took your boots off and set them next to the bed and when you unzipped your jeans, the look in his eyes made your stomach do that little flutter thing. You slid your jeans down off your hips and laid them on the top bunk leaving you in just your panties and tshirt.

You were nervous because you liked Daryl. He was one of your closest friends and how you felt about him well honestly you were fairly certain you hadn't ever had feelings like that for anyone even before the world ended. You weren't a blushing virgin either though.

He was quiet for a moment then moved up to the edge of the cot and held a hand out. You took his hand and he used it to pull you to him "Can I?" He asked and you nodded.

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

Daryl watched as you slipped your jeans off, the moment your legs were free of the denim the ink came into view. It started at your hip and ran down the full length of your right leg down to your ankle, twisting and turning. Vines, roses and different flowers decorated your skin along with a few other designs hidden that blended in.

It was gorgeous and fit you well. He moved up to the edge of the cot and reached a hand for you, hoping like hell you'd take it and when you did he pulled you to him. "Can I?" He asked, nodding towards your leg and you nodded so he leaned forward letting his fingers trace across the patterns inked into your skin "Why ya been hiding this?"

"Even in the Georgia heat shorts aren't really practical" you replied, resting your hands on his shoulders as he explored the tattoo further. When his thumb brushed a little higher on your thigh a light sigh escaped you and he grinned to himself. Did he really have that effect on you?

He looked up at you and you smiled "Whend ya get em?" "Eighteenth birthday. Got in a pretty bad wreck at fifteen. Dad was driving and walked away without a scratch. I had four surgeries and pins in my leg which left lots of scars. He felt like shit because he ran a red"

He nodded slowly, fingers still trailing across your leg "Looks good" you smiled again "Thank you" he leaned forward and let his lips just barely brush against the rose that was on the bend on your hip, nearly hidden under your panty line and you sucked in a harsh breath "Daryl"

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

You knew he was doing it on purpose when he looked up at you "Somethin wrong?" "So we're doing this? Us?" You asked and he nodded "If you want it, I do" you sucked your bottom lip into your mouth chewing on it and saw the look in his eyes. He was as turned on as you were. "We'll have to be quiet"

He grinned "We can try but the kids are upstairs at least" you started to roll your eyes but he leaned up to press another kiss to your leg, this one a little higher and you gasped "Damn you Daryl" he laughed against your skin "You can cuss me all you want woman as long as you keep saying my name like that"

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead fic #daryl dixon drabbles

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juniper-sunny · 3 months ago

Text

The Art in the Heart* - Chapter 4

Silco’s not exactly an uninvited guest, but your first sleepover together is still much more than you bargained for…

Happy Ending AU | Silco x Reader | Young!Silco | F!Reader | No [Y/N] | Slow Burn | Romance | Eventual Smut | Fluff | Angst | Hurt/Comfort | Fix-It || SFW | WC: 3.0k

beta reader: @silcoitus <3!!

ao3 || Masterlist || Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

───────────────── ●◉◎◈◎◉● ─────────────────

Silco repeatedly insists that he shouldn’t impose on you during the entire walk. You’d normally persuade him with words, but it’s been a long night; you’re tired and cranky and have no intention of holding on to incriminating evidence for longer than you need to. So you threaten him at umbrella-point, and he finally accepts.

Despite its name, Lower Piltover is populated by a decent amount of Zaunites. Most of them are like you, working in professions that earn good money. Not enough to move into Topside proper, but enough to literally lift them out of the fissures and the fog. It’s also a convenient place to live for people who make frequent trips to both Piltover and Zaun. To go Topside, it’s a walk through the Alcove District and then crossing the river by bridge or boat. To go to the Undercity, there are the nearby elevators and the bathysphere.

You make your home in the Promenade Apartments, one complex of many that line the narrow, sloping cobblestone streets. The lodgings are small and modest; Councilor Salo’s dining room alone is twice as large and luxurious as your studio apartment. Still, it has a sturdy roof and you can see the sky from your window, which is more than most Zaunites have.

When you and Silco cross the threshold of your home in the dark, he accidentally knocks something over with his foot. It thunks onto the ground, rolling and rattling away loudly.

“Oops,” you wince. “Sorry about that.”

“The fault is all mine,” he says. He bends over to grope around for the thing while you switch the lights on.

If you had known you were going to be hosting guests today, you would have tidied up. As it is now, your apartment is messy all around. The thing that Silco had knocked over was a glass jar full of paintbrushes that you had meant to put away with the rest of your supplies, but somehow ended up by the front door. It’s just one jar of many dotting your apartment like mushrooms in a forest. If they’re not filled with even more brushes, then they hold coins, tubes of paint, or eating utensils. Other larger supplies like paint cans and easels litter the place like debris.

You quickly sling your purse over your shoulder and crouch down to the ground, scrabbling to pick up the fallen jar and brushes. Silco steps aside to make room for you. As he deposits your umbrella in an umbrella stand, you watch him out of the corner of your eye. He drinks in the sight of your apartment, and it makes you self-conscious. One paintbrush slips out of your grasp, and you accidentally kick it across the floor. It clatters merrily away, as if to draw even more attention to how you haven’t scrubbed the ground clean of paint in a while.

Instead of chasing it down, you stand straight and sigh. You put the jar and brushes in your pocket for now and turn to your companion.

“Can you wait here a second?” you ask.

Silco nods. You quickly hang your coat on a rack and strip off your boots. He pulls off his own shoes as you speedwalk to your bathroom. You return with a large towel and hand it to him.

“Thank you,” he smiles. He starts toweling his hair slowly, doing his best not to send water droplets flying everywhere. “Your home is quite cozy.”

“Thanks,” you say. “I think I have some extra clothes you can change into, hopefully they’re your size.”

“That won’t be necessary—” he protests.

“You’re soaking wet, Silco; you’re going to get sick if you don’t get dried off. The shower is that way,” you say, pointing in the direction of your bathroom.

“I can’t take advantage of your generosity like that,” he says worriedly.

“Silco, you’re going to take a warm shower and get changed, or else I’ll stuff you in the dryer along with your clothes,” you warn him.

“You’re already doing too much for me—”

“Fine then. I don’t want you getting any of my stuff wet. Does that make you feel better?” you ask. Actually, you couldn’t care less if he did, but his stubbornness is wearing your patience thin.

He hesitates, then finally nods. After putting his backpack down on the floor, he strides over to your bathroom, draping the towel around his neck. You grab a towel from your kitchen to wipe up the trail of water behind him.

Silco pulls the bathroom door closed behind him. As he turns the water on, you put your purse down on your kitchen table carefully, conscientious of its precious cargo. You’re about to start pulling out its contents when Silco calls out your name.

“What’s up?” you ask.

“Would you like to take my clothes now or later?”

“I’ll take them now, thanks.”

“Not at all.”

When he cracks open the door, you expect him to toss them onto the floor. Instead, his hands reach out to you, cupped to hold the bundle of clothes high above the floor.

You stand and stare at his hands, reluctant to approach. Of course he would have to strip naked to shower. For some reason, that thought hadn’t fully sunk in.

And now you’re thinking about him being fully nude in your home.

You dash forward before the door can swing open further to reveal your blushing face. As you swipe the clothes, you tell him, “Feel free to use as much hot water as you want. Go ahead and use the soap and stuff too.”

His thank-you is cut off as you gently push the door shut. You try to put your embarrassment away along with the clothes as you stuff them into your washer. After getting a cycle started, you walk over to a closet and pull out a duffel bag of clothes. These were from a clothing drive hosted by a friend, and she had asked if you could wash them for her. It was lucky that you had already done so this morning, and that there’s a full outfit close to Silco’s size including some boxers. You fold these neatly and leave them outside the bathroom on top of a stool.

As you resume pulling photos out of your purse, your eyes drift back up to your apartment, wondering what your home looks like from Silco’s perspective. All your shabby wooden furniture was bought used: a twin bed shoved into a corner, a large wardrobe next to it, an overstuffed bookshelf, a kitchen table, a cabinet, and two stools. By far the nicest piece you own is your drafting table, always kept in good condition because it sees the most frequent use. Your stove, dishwasher, refrigerator, and stacked washer-dryer are dingy but still in good condition. Everything is covered in specks or smears of paint; you try to stay on top of cleaning those off as much as possible, but at a certain point you just stopped noticing them altogether. Hopefully Silco doesn’t think your home is grubby.

Then there’s the matter of all your canvases. Most of the floor space in your apartment is taken up by crates filled with them, some blank but others are old paintings or studies that you hadn’t gotten around to discarding or selling off. You hastily stuff your closet with two boxes, fighting with a third to stay inside without sticking out. When you give up, you resort to tucking the rest of them next to your wardrobe. Everything else gets stacked or shoved up against a wall to clear the ground as much as possible.

You wonder if your cluttered walls make the apartment feel messy or cramped too. They’re covered all over with a few of your own landscape paintings, but mostly papers of studies you’ve done. Most of them are of hands, but some include faces, clothing, or shading studies.

Hopefully Silco won’t peek in any of your sketchbooks on your bookshelf; that’s where you practice drawing nudes.

The shower shuts off, and after a moment the bathroom door opens. Silco almost calls out to you but stops when he sees the clothing you’ve set out for him. He grabs them and shuts the door again. When he reemerges wearing the new clothes, he walks over to stand next to you.

“How was the water?” you turn to him and ask.

Some of the clothes you brought him are just a little too big for him, the wide neckline of his shirt exposing the entirety of his collarbone and a sliver of his chest. Large sleeves hang freely around his elbows, softening the sharp angles of his body into something smoother. At least the pants fit well enough that he doesn’t need a belt for them.

“The water was perfect, thank you,” he says gratefully.

“How about the clothes?”

“They’re quite comfortable. I’m tempted to steal them from you,” he chuckles.

“Go ahead,” you smile. “You can pay me back when you’re done with them.”

“Of course.” Silco crosses his arms as he looks down thoughtfully at the photos, studying them intensely. He picks one up to read it, holding it delicately. He’s so careful with it, handling it with a light touch as if it were made of gossamer. When he slaps it down on the table decisively, his triumphant laugh startles you.

“You have my congratulations on a job well done,” he says excitedly. He claps a hand on your shoulder, still warm from the shower. “What would you say to joining me on my future ventures?”

“No thanks,” you say immediately. You shudder at the thought of another frantic, improvised heist. “What did you need all this stuff for anyways?”

Instead of answering your question, Silco turns to face you, squeezing your shoulder to gently steer you to do the same. He leans in as he raises another hand to your other shoulder. His eyes shine brightly, an earnest passion burning behind them as he says, “I’ve already asked too much of you. But I’m asking for your help again. Not for me but for all the underground. If we are to become united, the Undercity will need everyone to fight for it.”

“Silco…” you say hesitantly. Your eyes dart back and forth between his.

“We’ve accomplished a lot together. And there is more yet to achieve. I hope you can remain a part of it,” he implores. Silco speaks humbly, but his gaze is unblinking and focused solely on you, the turquoise whirlpools of his eyes pulling you in.

Overwhelmed by his attention, you look away. You swallow and clear your throat to buy yourself more time. In an attempt not to disappoint him, you speak gently but firmly, “Silco… this was just a one-time thing. You can keep the clothes and the photos, and I can help you with anything else… but I’m not doing anything like that again.”

Silco’s stare softens. For a moment, you wonder if you spoke too softly for him to hear. But he lets go of your shoulders and steps back, a sad smile on his face.

“I understand,” he says. “You’ve done more than enough to help our cause tonight. History will not forget your contribution.”

“Feel free to keep my name out of it. I don’t need Councilor Salo thinking I’m a spy,” you tell him before making a sweeping gesture at the array of pictures. “Are you going to tell me what all this is for or not?”

“Both Councilors Salo and Hoskel enjoy Noxian wine. Unfortunately for them, they’re considered an illegal import,” said Silco. “We weren’t sure who was responsible for importing the spirits—and now we know.”

He reaches over and taps two different photos; one looks like a shipping manifest while the other seems to be a trip itinerary with a list of supplies. “There’s a discrepancy here. By all accounts, this airship is only carrying a modest number of shipments. So why does it need to be over-fueled? And where are the details on the cargo’s origins?”

You try to recall if you saw any documents describing that. Silco watches as you move some of the pictures around, skimming them briefly. “I don’t remember seeing anything like that written down. Did I miss something?”

He shakes his head. “The councilor is hiding something.”

“How do you know it’s the Noxian wine?”

“We don’t have complete certainty,” he admits. “But look at when this shipment is being unloaded.” Another photo is pointed out to you; this one is a schedule with a short list of names. “Midnight, with a skeleton crew. It’s suspicious. Whatever it is, it must be quite valuable. And we intend to get our hands on it.”

“Who’s ‘we’?” you ask.

At this question, Silco stands straight and proud. With a grin, he says, “The Children of Zaun.”

You look at him in wonder. It somehow doesn’t surprise you that Silco is a member of the renowned rebel group. Most people from Zaun hate Piltover, but only the loudest and proudest of radicals join the Children of Zaun. The organization spearheads the Undercity independence movement, and its members will do anything to hurt Topside. If Silco is one of them, then it makes sense that he would have taken personal offense at you mentioning Piltover in any kind of positive light, much less working for their government officials.

“So… what are you guys going to do? Just… spy on the airship or something?” you ask slowly.

“Piltover has stolen from the Undercity for too long. This is our chance to take something back.” He clenches a fist, pressing it against the table. “Ideally, it will be something we can use for ourselves. If not, we can still blackmail the councilor. Use it to bend him into submission.”

You’re no fan of Councilor Salo either, but you know he’s smart enough to have all his warehouses and ports staffed with armed guards. The Children of Zaun may have spirit, but they probably don’t have money; they won’t stand a chance against Topside’s superior firepower. Enforcers could mow them all down without a second thought.

“Aren’t you scared? You could get killed,” you say weakly. Your arms rise unconsciously to hold yourself.

Silco waits until you look up at him again to answer. “At least, we would have the solace of knowing we died fighting for our cause.”

There’s no trace of fear or anger in his face or voice when he speaks those words. He means it as a fact, that he and his friends are ready to give up everything for the Undercity.

If those words were meant to be comforting, they have the opposite effect on you.

The simmering unease in your veins boils over into fear. You hug yourself tighter as you sit down. You were aiming for a stool but you miss, wincing as your backside collides with your stove. Instead of standing up, you ooze slowly down to the ground, succumbing to the building fatigue of the night. Your bones are heavy as you slouch, deflating with a loud sigh.

Silco swiftly kneels down next to you, calling out your name in worry.

“I’m fine,” you say, shaking your head. You rub your eyes and stifle a yawn. It’s hard to resist the temptation of curling up on the floor and just falling asleep right then and there. When you try to stand up again, your legs twitch weakly in protest.

“Can you sit next to me?” you ask Silco.

He nods and obliges immediately, sitting cross-legged. Concerned, he asks, “What’s wrong?”

You don’t answer right away. It’s hard to put together the words to articulate your feelings, exhaustion making your thoughts swim away like fish slipping out of a net. Something tells you that even if you were wide awake, it wouldn’t be easy to sway Silco from his convictions.

That he shouldn’t give up his life for the Undercity. That it’s too high of a price to pay. His selflessness is admirable, but he shouldn’t be so reckless either. It’s one thing to dedicate himself to the freedom and independence of Zaun, but the disregard for his own safety borders on carelessness.

And he’s no good to anyone if he’s dead.

Maybe he’ll tell you it’s none of your business, that it’s his life to live and he can do whatever he wants. Just because you helped him, that doesn’t mean he’s going to listen to your advice.

If a direct approach won’t work, then hopefully an indirect one will.

“Silco… I want to cash in a favor,” you say slowly.

“Of course,” he says without hesitation. He scooches closer to listen better.

You lock eyes with him, trying to imitate his steady, magnetic gaze. “Promise me you’ll come back alive. And that you’ll stay safe.”

His eyes widen in surprise. He leans back, mouth fallen open.

“That includes your friends, too,” you add. “And don’t kill anyone you don’t have to.”

He stares at you, then shakes his head in wonder. “That’s more than one favor. If I may make an observation, you’re being quite greedy.”

“Fine then. You owe me more than one anyways.” You quickly do some mental math and count on your fingers. “Saved you from Enforcers, saved you from Salo, got you these pictures… I’ll cash it all in.”

You stand decisively, your strength returning in a sudden burst. Silco scoots back, alarmed by your abrupt movement. You stare down at him and offer him a hand.

“Promise me that you and your friends will come back alive. And don’t kill anyone you don’t have to,” you repeat yourself. “Do all that and we’ll call it even.”

He stares back at you, then grins roguishly. As he clasps your hand, you’re forced to use your whole body to pull him up, leaning back as he gets to his feet.

“You drive a hard bargain,” he says. “But I always appreciate a challenge.”

“I need to hear you say it,” you insist.

His gaze now is soft, cool waters of his eyes soothing you like rain after a forest fire. He squeezes your hand reassuringly, a comforting point of contact that you anchor yourself to.

“I promise.”

───────────────── ●◉◎◈◎◉● ─────────────────

If you liked this fic, please reblog and/or leave a comment! <3

Chapter 5

#Arcane #Arcane fanfic #Silco x Reader #Silco #Arcane Silco #Silco Arcane #my writing #The Art in the Heart #TAITH

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kekaki-cupcakes · 8 months ago

Note

Heeeey

I just saw a tiktok that said Percy "I hate bullies" Jackson soo can I ask for a fic where the reader is new at the camp and is harassed by an ares kid or an aphrodite kid and Percy help them ?

Not necessarily a romantic story, I just thought it would be sweet

you may have broken me out of my writing slump lol. thanks for the platonic ask <3 <3 <3 I miss those lol. enjoy!

Percy defends reader from the camp menace

»»————-　★　————-««

You walked up the grassy path, bag over one shoulder. The rich green strawberry field stretched out to your right, filling the valley with the smell of summer and fruit. The air was warm too, and you’d like to fall asleep in the flower rings after the stress of the day.

Clouds drifted like fairy floss. You had a bandage over one arm where the feral ‘harpy’ had got you, but other than that, and a healthy dose of fear, you were unharmed.

A good outcome for a monster attack, according to the blonde boy who’d wrapped up your wound before sending you along to a purple haired girl called Lou Ellen, who dragged you around the dangerous summer camp, pointing out where all the death traps and instant coffee makers were located.

And now you were here, standing outside the little wooden shack by the Infirmary where you’d started, with a handful of massive golden coins the horse man had given you, that matched the sun in the sky. Hopefully they sold sunscreen in the camp store.

You pushed aside the beaded curtain and peeked around, sneakers squeaking on the floor. You were going to have to duct tape the sole of your shoe back on as well, since that feathered little bitch tried to swallow it hole.

You shivered at the thought, and stepped though.

The first thing you noticed was the wind chimes and sparkly glass dream catcher looking decorations hanging by the windows and from the roof. A few racks of orange shirts and hoodies were lined up on the far wall, past the ice-cream fridges and boxes of toiletries.

The scratched up bag you had with you, filled with lip balms and headphones and snacks and one hoodie, wasn’t enough. So you picked out a spiderman toothbrush and a stick of deodorant, opting to not get any gum in case it was magical, after reading the price tags to discover the currency was called drachmae’s.

Why did the ancient Greeks have to make everything so complicated? Couldn’t they have just chilled out?

Empty necklace strings hung off hooks nailed into the wall. You brushed them aside to get to the shirts. Lou had said you needed a few, considering how often things tended to get incinerated. The shop had your size, thankfully in English, so you took two. A boy with a pink bow in his hair and a name tag reading Mitchell walked past with a stack of jars.

You approached the bench with your arms full of supplies, and dumped them. “...Uh excuse me?”

Someone bumped around behind the bench and after a few crashes, a brown haired boy popped up. There was a bandaid over his nose, and he held a hand out. “Pleased to meet you.”

You squinted at him for a moment, and then shook his hand. “Hi.”

Something else crashed on the other side of the shop. A winged horse trotted behind you, opened the ice-cream freezer with its teeth, took out a Callipo, shut the glass door with a hoof, and then left. You turned back to the cashier. “Just these please.”

He took all your things and ripped the little white paper tags off them, folding up your shirts really badly. Then he started counting the white tags. Really slowly. He mucked up, somehow, and then started again. “Two, five… wait, no, four…”

The windchimes bumped against each other as your annoyance grew. You stuck your hands in your pockets. He kept counting. You only had four things! You were glad you hadn’t added a packet of gum to the pile.

You picked at the bandage on your arm. It was still hurting a little.

Mitchel finished putting the jars on their shelf, and turned back to the staff only door. “Oi! Jackson! Where’d all the incense go?”

“Seven… eight and a half…” The cashier guy finally finished, and punched the numbers into the cash register. Finally. He grinned. “Cash or card?”

There was no eftpos machine. What was his problem? All you wanted to do was eat dinner with your new family, find a bed, and go to sleep. And get some painkillers. And wash all the monster blood off your hands. You bit back a sigh, and reached for the bag of coins in your pocket.

It was gone.

You felt your face heat up as you checked the rest of your pockets and then your bag you knew definitely didn’t have a hole in the bottom. Your eyes prickled, and you told them off silently.

The boy behind the bench just stared at you with a smile.

“Uh…”

The staff only door banged open. The boy in the doorway glared at the cashier with alarmingly bright green eyes. There were a lot of people in this camp. You really needed to learn names. “Oi! Connor! Stop fucking with people!”

“Fine,” the cashier, Connor, huffed, and tossed your bag of coins back at you.

You caught them, glared at him, and then dug through it for the right amount to give to him. Eight and a half, how were you supposed to give him half a coin?

Green eyes stomped around the umbrella and also nunchucks stand, reading the cash register. He read it about three times.

Why could these people not count?

“Connor you fuckwit,” green eyes scoffed, tapping at the buttons. He searched through the tags again and then took seven of your coins, all while you stood there and wished the ground would open up beneath you and swallow you whole.

His tag read Percy. He handed you your things, and then a lemonade icey-pole from under the bench. You took it cautiously, and watched as he grabbed Connor’s ear, and dragged him out of the camp store.

You were left alone in there for a second, so you zipped up your bag and left quickly.

“Please no! Not the toilets!” Connor screeched, as he was shoved back down the path quickly.

Percy cupped his mouth as he yelled. “Clarisse! Come beat up Connor!”

You opened your icey-pole.

»»————-　★　————-««

#pjo fandom #pjo #percy jackson #heroes of olympus #percy jackon and the olympians #Percy Jackson x reader #percy jackson headcanon #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x gn reader #percy jackson x you #Percy Jackson platonic

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pearlycorpse · 2 months ago

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(ঞ) ⸺ ⠀𝐓𝗁𝖾 𝐁𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗂𝗋𝖾'𝗌 𝐁𝖺𝖻𝗒

pairing : rich heir gojo x pregnant!fem reader

summary : gojo forget a condom one night and six months later he has to be married

tw : gojo's horny? pregnancy does it for him 😔

notes : another intro from a sakura ai & poe ai bot!

the son of the biggest conglomerate in japan, satoru gojo, wasn't known for his prowess in the industry of technology like his father, no no, he was known for the few things that besmirched his family name. those things were women, dating scandals, drunk and disorderly conduct and oh, right, women.

his grandmother would often chew him out when he was nursing a bad hangover with nothing in his stomach but good old miso soup and rice. she didn't even know why she bothered with her useless grandson who wasn't even all that interested in becoming the head of the gojo clan and taking over ber son's position in his company. sometimes she wishes it was herself that had died in the accident that took satoru's parents years ago.

her blood pressure was through the roof just because of the late night outs and early mornings, the salacious articles spewed across the internet, the newspapers questioning the stability of the clan. it was all too much noise in her mind, too much uncertainty in the future. maybe that's why she hadn't died yet, because if she did satoru would make her roll in her grave with all the nonsense he would get up to.

something had changed in him, she thought, thinking back to satoru's childhood when he had been learning how to a good leader of their clan. the gojo clan was prestigious, a leader of the industry, always setting an example for everyone else to turn to. so imagine the shock and disappointment when the heir, the pride and joy of her son, wasn't interested in taking the reins.

oh it just got her so angry thinking about the times when satoru would wake her up in the middle of the night asking if she could send a driver to pick him up at ghastly strip clubs and low budget motels. there weren't enough whip lashings she could give him before he came to his senses, that much she knew for sure because satoru got his filthy attitude from his grandfather; her husband.

the pig couldn't keep his zip up like his life depended on it and only brought shame to her and her family. much like a certain blue eyed heir was doing even at that very moment.

as if by magic, her phone buzzed and a servant answered the call, holding the phone up so she could hear who was speaking. fortune had shined upon her that day, because that was her meal ticket, the only way to get satoru to listen, to behave, to become the head of the clan.

so what if it was manipulative and conniving? she was getting old and couldn't keep yelling at her grandson, it was time for her to rest and see some grandchildren to keep her company.

꒰ა ˚₊ ✧・┈・╴﹕꒰ ᐢ｡- ༝ -｡ᐢ ꒱﹕╴・┈・𐑺 ‧₊˚໒꒱

satoru had sobered immediately after hearing his grandmother's words when he answered her call at seven in the morning. he had just gotten back from an all night ragger at five, and being woken up at seven was like having ice cold water thrown on him. "satoru, you're going to get married before the end of winter. a woman who you impregnated six months ago is here, and she has agreed to marry you, so get dressed, we're all having tea."

he couldn't even remember what he was doing four months ago, let alone who. the past months, heck, past years have been nothing but a blur of women, whiskey sours and more women. he was sure his liver was shot but he could still down a fireball like no one's business so he wasn't particularly worried in that regard.

but back to who he got pregnant, satoru racked his mind, most hookups were either when he was black out drunk, about to be black out drunk or when he was having orgys. he always used condoms, extra large vanilla flavoured condoms that hugged his length as snug as a rug. he had trained himself to slip that rubber on even if he couldn't see his feet under him.

there were times in the past when he'd gotten a few pregnancy scares but a quick call to his grandmother had gotten rid of those problems rather easily. and no, he didn't have his grandmother kill those women like their family was apart of the yakuza — at least he hoped she didn't kill them, four of them were great at giving head. those women were simply paid off to keep quiet terminate the pregnancies without second guessing themselves.

he was a terrible man yes, but so were the teenagers who nutted in their socks and left them for their mother's to clean up.

steeling himself with a shot of expresso to really wake him up, he got dressed and headed down stairs where his grandmother sat on the tatami mats with a woman. he glanced at her stomach, true to her word of being four months pregnant, unless she was a chance taker and was here to get money. but then again this was his grandmother he was talking about, a swindler wouldn't have made it further than the front gate.

finally, when their eyes met satoru was struck with a memory.

six months ago it was the anniversary of his parents death, and like every other year, he was drunk. why was he drunk when he didn't even cry at their funeral, he didn't even mourn them. maybe deep down he was burying his feelings so he wouldn't have to deal with the pain of that day, of loosing them, loosing his beautiful mother who sang to him when the rain hit the windows too hard. loosing his father who was the first one to teeth him how to treat a woman right.

she had come into the bar soaked to the bone from the rain, looking like she had had a rough night judging from her red rimmed eyes and the crease between her brows. he had wagered a break up gone wrong and was proven right when he bought her a drink to warm her bones. the conversation flowed, even when drunk he was awfully charming, and before he knew it, he was hovering above her body.

she was still wearing that same perfume, he thought, lavender, it was a scent he hadn't considered pleasant but on her made his senses melt. was it the perfume that made him forget to put on a condom, or was it the way she looked, so delicious and in a hurry for his touch. something had happened that night and for the life of him he couldn't even remember her name when he woke up that morning.

she couldn't even look him in the eye when he sat beside his grandmother, she couldn't look him in the eye when they hot marriage either. it was like she didn't even want him, didn't even want anything to do with him and yet she was the one who reached out. she had begun the entire process that had uprooted his life and changed his entire world right on its head.

satoru was the head of the clan soom after they got married, became the ceo of gojo technologies, he was everything his grandmother wanted for him. he could do the work, no problem, after all, he had retained everything his parents and grandmother taught him over the years; he wasn't useless. and yet it seemed when it came to his... wife, satoru couldn't do a thing.

so tonight he had decided instead of heading to the strip club, keep his ring in his pocket and put his phone on silent, he had ran his wife a bath. it was filled with essential oils, bubble bath and bath bombs to give the water a purple tinge. he didn't expect seeing her pregnancy body to have such an effect on him. it made him tug at his tie and blame the steam from the water for the heat in his cheeks.

"why don't i rub your back?" he suggested, standing behind her and rolled up his sleeves. he had ulterior motives of course, he always did. if he touched her just enough, rolled her nipples under his thimb the right way, he would get the release he craved, and knew his wife would be thanking him later too.

#—seol #smut #gojo satoru #jjk #jjk gojo #arranged marriage #play boy

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lenaariewrld · 6 months ago

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C.30 — settled in

ON THE AIR — childe x reader smau

| SYNOPSIS;; Teyvat University’s popular radio personality, Y/n L/n, has only one gripe with her life. Her classmate, neighbour, and all-around nuisance in her life, Tartaglia. Their rivalry extends just past academics and, to her horror, into her work. He becomes the music director and co-host for her radio show, working alongside her most nights and forcing himself even deeper into her life. But is he really trying to just be friends, or is there an ulterior motive to his actions?

previous! ~ masterlist ! ~ next!

After getting through customs– which took considerably shorter than you would’ve thought thanks to Diluc’s help –and retrieving your luggage, you officially found yourself on break. You followed dutifully behind Diluc as he led the way towards the front where a family car would be waiting to pick the two of you up. Despite being wealthy, and not batting an eye at the five figure cost of tickets and housing he’s got, him and his family are still pretty humble. He pushes a few of your suitcases in front of his own while you carry the smaller bags.

You try to relax, to listen to the calming music in your headphones, and take in the environment of the airport. The air is crisp with a chill, and there’s a thin layer of snow piled in corners or caught on the edge of roofs. It’s cute. The whole way to the car, though, you keep getting distracted. Your head turns this way and that as your eyes play tricks on you, catching glimpses of Childe. Or you think you do. You realise it’s just a stranger with orange hair or a man wearing familiar clothes but sporting unfamiliar features.

With another shake of your head, you keep your eyes squarely on Diluc’s back, ducking into the car after helping him load up the suitcases. “You okay?” He asks quietly as he settles into the backseat beside you. You rest your head on his shoulder. His coat is soft and his body is warm.

You both get to Diluc’s home shortly after. “Y/n!” Diluc’s father is greeting you as soon as you step onto the front patio, a gracious smile on his lips. His crow’s feet dive deeper into his features as he approaches his literal and figurative children with open arms. He pulls you into a warm hug. “My, you’ve gotten taller since last year,” He smooths your hair away from your face.

“I’m just wearing chunky shoes, I think,” You excuse, laughing when he pulls a ‘that doesn’t sound right’ type of expression. “It’s good to see you too,” You tell him as you hug him back. Once you step back and let Diluc greet his father, you take in the giant mansion they claim as their home. Two floors of magnificent dark oak wood and hundreds of acres of vineyard (ones currently closed for the season) stretched behind and beside it.

“Don’t let me keep you two, settle in,” Crepus says to you both before departing inside, urging you both to join him for dinner. You agree heartily, pulling your bags from the backseat. Adelinde, the maid, helps you and Lucky finish trudging everything inside and to your designated rooms.

Your heart warms as Adelinde opens to door to one of the spare bedrooms, the same one you’ve always stayed in, and find it decorated with the things you’d left or moved to the way you like them. It’s touching that they converted it into ‘your’ room. Even if it wasn’t always yours, it is now, at least in their eyes.

You put your things away and hang up your coat and scarf, looking around the room. The spacious bed is soft, with a thick duvet in your favorite color, a thin pattern of flowers crocheted into the top. The nightstand holds a phone charger, lamp, and a small cup for you to put your jewelry away before you head to bed. A bookcase is pushed on the left wall of the room, right between two windows that look out over the vineyards. Other pieces of furniture are scattered to the most convenient places for you, like a wardrobe, a desk, a vanity, and a shoe rack. Your hand drags weightlessly against the end of the bed.

You remember your first time sleeping in this house. When you were just twelve years old. It was your first spat with your parents, and your mother had locked you out of the house. Diluc was the only person you knew besides Lumine, but she was never available past 10pm. So you called him and within the hour, you were in his home and curled up in his bed with him, the two of you in matching pajamas while he read a book out loud to ease you to sleep.

A lot had changed since then. And yet so much had stayed the same too.

With your reminiscing over, you take a deep breath and exit the room, heading for the giant main living room. You lounge around the fancy house, soaking in the peacefulness and warmth of the home. A fire roars in the hearth, after Adelinde helped you light it. You scroll on your phone mindlessly, reading twitter threads and tiktoks that make you giggle stupidly. It eases your mind, gives you peace, and helps you forget the sadness of your ‘real’ life.

A couple more hours pass, and you find yourself binging a cringy TV drama while you lounge on a loveseat, curled up with a blanket. Your phone goes off with a soft twinkling chime, and your attention is town from the needlessly over-the-top acting in the show. You check it to see Cyno had texted you.

With a sigh, you put your phone away and sink back onto the couch, burying yourself in the fluffy blanket draped over your waist. Your hurt didn’t feel as visceral now. It wasn’t like a clawing monster trying to escape out of you, racking your body with sobs and making your chest ache. It didn’t feel like a new crack formed and leaked whenever you thought of Childe, or were reminded of him. You just felt… blank. Unsure.

Diluc knocks on the doorway, and you look up, realising you hadn’t even realised the show was still paused. You were too deep in your head still. “Enjoying the fire?” He asks, glancing briefly at the flames flickering in the stone hearth. You close your laptop and sigh.

“Yeah, it’s relaxing,” You tell him with a soft smile, forcing it a little. You move your legs out of the way and pat the cushion beside, wordlessly asking him to join you. He sits, grunting as he does like an old man. “What’cha got there?” You peek over his shoulder at the book tucked under his elbow.

He shows you the cover, a copy of Romeo and Juliet that you recognise right in front of you. It was the first gift you ever gave the man, and it was a book he reread almost everytime you two came back to visit.

You smile, tucking your computer away and leaning into the back of the sofa. “Read it to me,” You tell him, though it still comes out as a half-question. Diluc smiles fondly, shaking his head as if frustrated by your demands, and cracks open the book.

The both of you relax before doing anything else, taking in the rest of the evening with the book or the last few episodes of the season you were watching. You knew before long though, that Diluc and his father would convince you to go into town with them. It was tradition. The first night you always went shopping for things to cook together, and made a meal all by yourselves, occasionally paired with glasses of wine (you remember being fifteen and asking for a glass yourself the first time, and you remember the way Crepus had chuckled fondly at your rosy cheeks and switched out your glass for grape juice soon after).

You didn’t mind the tradition, and it made your heart full. All you had to worry about for the rest of this break was being home. Being comfortable, and picking yourself back up when you came back from it all..

———

A/Ns: BWAAA im so sorry this update took forever <//3 i promise a double update today, but unfortunately i will have to slow updates. i have to ✨ move✨, so trying to do that on top of my job makes it hard to keep up these updates. I promise i'm not going on a hiatus or anything though !! as usualy tho; likes/reblogs/comments are always appreciated, and don't forget to get ur water intake today lovelies

TAGLIST: @popiizpops @scaradooche @yourfavoritefreakyhan @neversore @monocerosei @dontmindtheevie @kittywagun @yumidepain @kazumiku @hanilessa @nrviine @wren-art @state-of-grac3 @definitely-not-leena @crimxeorcremeexistspeacefully @tikitsune @hwngti @trulylee @basicsofdying @starriylover

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mullermilkshake · 1 month ago

Text

Twelve days of fluffmas

On the sixth day of fluffmas, my true love gave to me...

Yakuza!Sukuna being affentionate.

Day seven

Yakuza!Sukuna x Wife!reader Tags: Yakuza AU, established relationships, acts of service, mentions of starting a family, surprises, affection, babies

Being married to the Yakuza Chairman, there was never much time to be enjoying Christmas. In honesty, you loved it.

Twinkling lights upon a snow capped roof piled with nails and staples to secure the icicle drop of each bulb and how each colour was right where it should be carefully placed with care.

It was the only time you chose drinking chocolate in a little cafe and wore a thick scarf when the snow started to fall. Ryomen headquarters gardens sat so beautifully the next morning after snowfall all night long. The crunch underneath shoes was surreal and thick and crispy to the ears when it was untouched.

A few years now and Christmas isn't so celebrated, the hallways still so bare and gardens still so dark despite the lit lanterns. It was missing something. Something cheerful.

The thing was, Sukuna didn't celebrate it as such. There was never a time for him to do so growing up so it never held anything close to his heart. Not like you.

You grew up with family and traditions at Christmas. He did not.

So you knew brought it up. And there was a knock at your office door.

That was odd. No one besides your husband was permitted to enter. You left your desk and approached the door with a frown, Sukuna never knocked when he emerged from the meeting room, he merely entered.

"What is it-" it was Sukuna.

Stepping back you opened it from a crack to enough to let him in. "You never knock, is the world ending?"

"I'd be kicking it down if the world was ending," his hands were thrown into his pockets, shirt unbuttoned a few. "I came to show you something."

There was something about his stance, his tone of voice though still gruff it sat much softer in his throat. His eyes almost delicate as he watched you think of your next words.

"Alright."

"Get your coat, it's outside," you stopped yourself from opening the door right away and picked up your coat from the rack in the corner.

Outside, in this cold? Sukuna didn't ever like the cold. In fact, he would often moan if it was cold enough to require heating the room up.

Naturally you were intrigued by this gesture alone. Whatever it was sure had to be important enough to warrant all this fuss from him.

He led you to the back door without another word, taking your hand silently and stopping you right before he was to open it.

"Before we step outside, I must be honest with you," he didn't turn to face you, but he still had your hand in his. "My absence has been noted, you don't need to tell me that. But there are some things I want to discuss with you, I just don't know how. So I hope this is a step in the right direction."

While it was true that his meetings were more frequent than usual, it was your own common knowledge that things just seemed to pick up around holidays.

Just because Sukuna was the Chairman, it did not make him exempt from peak times throughout the year.

But for him to go about speaking with you in this way, whatever was on his mind was big.

"Okay, Love."

He opened the door straight out onto the back gardens. Whilst the immediate instinct was to look towards the light lanterns for light, the garden was brighter than usual.

Because there were Christmas lights strewn about the place. They blinked and twinkled just like those lights you thought about on the snow capped roof. Amber and multicoloured pools of light around the lanterns and over hedges and guttering.

It was beautiful.

"I'm aware you enjoy this stuff. And I've been a miserable bastard the past few years with letting more light in," he cleared his throat and mumbled the rest though when you concentrated, you heard it clearly. "You are all the light that I need..."

Still holding his hand kept you grounded, it was a grand gesture that buying the world could not replicate. "It's beautiful. Thank you."

Now Sukuna did many acts of service, mostly in private. This however was the most public display he'd given you since your wedding day.

He looked back at you for the first time, moving a strand of hair from your eyes. "You put up with me, not many people do."

It wasn't necessarily the case of putting up with Sukuna like everybody claimed. You just got on. The attitude that was in stuff of legends you never saw and you were confident that you could tame it if you really had to, but you never needed to.

"I love you, of course I put up with you."

"I can say the same," there was no change in his expression, it was all in his tone of voice that remained softer than ever.

"What are you having trouble discussing with me?"

If you had blinked in that moment, you would have missed the slight exaggeration in his eyes as they widened ever so slightly.

"Well, there's a matter of our marriage," clearing his throat was an obvious sign of how, dare you say it, nervous he was. "I think it's time we move ahead and think of the future."

Your marriage to Sukuna had been going almost six years strong, you weren't quite sure what he meant. "How so?"

"Well, when we're gone and buried, who do we leave all this to?"

"You want to have a baby?" for a moment, your stomach did flips.

Until now, a baby had never ever been mentioned. For a time you were unsure if that was something he wanted. So all this time he had been thinking of how to bring it up and he was stuck on how to do it.

"With you, yes," he nodded and got in a little closer to you. "If you want to that is."

It was entirely your choice.

At no point in your life did you ever think you would be in this life, staring at the Chairman of a Yakuza clan with a wedding band on your finger.

It all just seemed right.

"I could get used to the idea of a baby or two running about the place."

Sukuna leant in and rubbed his nose with yours. Delicately. Lovingly. "Those little brats would own this place in a week. I can already see the trouble they'd cause."

"So we'll try then?"

"See where life takes us." There was no man like Sukuna.

And you doubted there ever would be either.

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keruimi · 1 year ago

Text

His Lost Love

Muichiro Tokito x reader

Warning! Angst and Slight Comfort

When he hid the most painful thing he experienced after he became a Hashira until he forgot about it. But that deep scar was opened again when he met the person he chose to forget.

_____________________________

Here again, back at the mansion roofs. While the feelings of longing are still present to my life. It's been four years since I regained my memories.

Yet I still feel like something is missing.

I look at the moon as it manages to show me the view of the whole headquarters with the Hashiras' mansion buzzing with happiness.

It's been four years since we killed Muzan, yet there are still some demons alive and walking freely on the land.

Busy with the mission, I didn't notice I already turned eighteen.

I heard someone land on the roof that made me give a side glance and saw Tanjiro.

"What is it?" I asked him as I looked back at the scenery I never got bored of. I felt him sit beside me as he also looked at the view I was gazing at.

"You're here again"

I know. And I don't know the reason why I keep coming back here.

"Tanjiro" I called out for him as I sigh. "I feel empty but I can't remember the reason why"

I told him as I felt the cold breeze of the night. Just recalling that feeling makes my eyes glossy.

"I don't know why I always feel like there's a missing part of me" I admit as I lowered my head down and hid my face.

"Maybe because your twin brother is not here with you anymore..." He guessed but I shook my head as I wiped my tears away.

"No" I whispered. "I coped with his death through anger. It can't be him"

But maybe I am just overthinking?

Both of us got silent before a frantic crow ruined the silence around us.

"South East! South East! A demon is near the headquarters!" Tanjiro's crow repeated it like a broken record that made my companion stand from his position.

Our conversation were cut off short

"Well Muichiro, I'll be going"

I hummed in response before he went to the South East. I decided to enter my bedroom when I felt that the breeze was colder than usual.

And yet the moment I stepped inside my room, I saw the blue haori on the rack as I took a hold of it.

I knew I forgot about someone. Because when I took a hold of the Haori, it gave me a slight comfort as it brightly showed the ice patterns on it.

I felt another presence that made me look outside my window and saw again the blue mist in the form of a woman.

I took a step closer to it and as she usually does, she just caresses my cheek as my mind went somewhere again.

What if the blue mist is a remembrance of the person I forgot?

Out of all things, this mist always appears at night and never forgets to caress or show me comfort even though it was never physically.

But I feel it...

If I can just remember that person... Would I manage to quench the empty feeling deep inside me?

"South East! Back up in the South East!" I was snapped out of my thoughts when I heard my crow speak as the blue mist disappeared with the wind.

I put my thoughts together as I wore the blue Haori for comfort on a cold night.

I immediately follow my crow to the forest and not even 10 minutes, I can already feel the aura of the demon.

They are indeed close to the headquarters.

I heard glass shattering and swords clacking as I observed the situation before me.

I saw Mitsuri and Tanjiro already fighting together yet Mitsuri still got blasted off that made me run to catch her.

"I thought we already slayed the upper moons?" She asked me in a worried tone as she picked herself back up while I looked back at the battle happening in front of me.

It seems like the Demon is used to ice as it defends herself from Tanjiro's Dragon techniques.

The demon was a woman with white hair that ends on her lower back.

I ready my stance as I took a hold of my sword.

"Mist Breathing Fourth Form: Shifting Flow Splash"

When I first attacked, the woman managed to jump back, barely avoiding it.

The moment I got closer to her, that's when I properly got to observe her form.

A familiar form...

The woman stopped from her movements as she didn't leave her gaze at me.

"Chiro..." The low whisper caught me off guard as my eyes widened like saucers in disbelief.

How can this demon know me?

Mist Breathing Third form

I started to think again as I ignored the words of the demon in front of me.

Scattering Mist Splash

She managed to avoid it with a slight groan of pain as I saw that I managed to graze one of her cheeks.

"Muichiro Tokito!" She shouted my full name that made me stop from my movements.

There was a slight anger and sadness in her eyes as she stands in the middle of the open area in the forest.

"Can't you remember me?"

A disgusting feeling nagged me behind as I kept my blank gaze on her figure.

She is just a demon, nothing more

But when I saw how her eyes glossed, my surroundings were covered in dark as a frame of the past was shown in front of me.

"Are you the new slayer?" I stop my training to look back at the girl who seems to be at the same age as me.

She has white hair with those cyan eyes. She somehow looks ethereal with that gentle smile that lingers on her face.

I ignored her as I took a hold of my sword again to continue training but when I swing it, another sword stops it.

"Let me be" those were the first words I told her as the girl just gave a warm smile before throwing my sword out of my hand using hers.

"You need to rest. Overworking never leads to a good outcome" she stated and before I got to cut her neck off, she took hold of my hand and dragged me through the porch of the mansion I was staying at and sat me down there.

"I'm a Hashira, what makes you think you can treat me this way?" I told her and didn't bother to hide the annoyance in my voice as I felt her wipe my hands with a cold towel.

"You let me though"

Her answer made an irk mark appear on my forehead. "I didn't give you the consent to drag me"

"You still let me drag you even though we both know you can just snatch yourself away from my grip" she stated that made me give up on arguing with her.

I was aware of the rules of these corporations yet I can't debate on it especially if it was a girl I'm talking to.

I just flick her head because I know I lost on that one and I heard a giggle from her after that.

I would forget about this anyways.

I manage to rest on the porch from the hellish training I'm making myself go through under the blazing heat of the sun.

After she treated my wounds, it felt like my hands were relaxed that made me think if she was a slayer that is being taught by the insect Hashira.

"Who are you staying with?" I ask her as she lets out a small grin before scooting close to me. "Why? Are you planning to visit me?"

"No" I deadpan that made her shoulder drop but she still maintains the smile on her face. "I am just wondering who is raising a bold girl like you. We are clearly different in status yet you didn't follow my instructions"

She just looks at the field in front of us as there is no ounce of fear in her eyes.

It seems like the master of this girl spoils her too much.

"I am Giyu-san's tsuguko" she informed me something about her as I thought who was that guy again.

But a Tsuguko is also a powerful person in the Demon Slayer corps.

"Are you lying or are you lying?" I ask her in a blank tone before standing up to train again.

"None of the above"

Her answer managed to lift a small smile on my lips. I don't seem to take care of having someone as carefree as her.

That day became our beginning towards an emotion called love.

She was always with me, and I began to love her presence around me. So this is what it feels like to have someone of the same age interested in swordsmanship.

She is the only one who can stop me from overworking myself like before. I managed to take care of my health when she was with me.

She has a comforting presence that I always found myself having a slumber every time I was with her.

I felt her run my soft hand on my long hair as I sighed in contentment until I heard her call me by my nickname she gave me.

"Chiro"

I hummed in response as I opened my eyes to look at her who had her usual soft gaze on me.

"I love you more than a friend..." She confessed one day we were resting under a tree.

Love?

Her confession made my heart beat quicken as I sat up to look at her. I look away in hesitation knowing about how I easily forget things.

If I accept her feelings, I might forget it but she wouldn't.

"Aren't we too young for that?"

I told her as I slightly turned my head in her direction as she leaned back on the tree.

"I know..." She whispered but she still lifted a small smile and looked at me. "I just want to let you know. I don't need an answer knowing you never thought of those"

She is brave. She knows the outcome but she still did it.

I wrapped my arms around her for a hug as she returned it back to me while my thoughts started to wander off again.

I don't want to lose this relaxing moments with my only friend.

That night, I started to spend my time on the roof of the mansion as I cooled my head to think about it.

Shockingly, I never forget about her confession.

Even up till the times we hangout, her confession keeps repeating on my head over and over again.

"I love you" I mumbled on her shoulder as I hugged her from the back while we basked under the sun.

I felt her stiffen on my touch before she relaxed herself again that made me close my eyes.

I don't want to lose her.

She made me realize my worth even at such a young age.

"Chiro, you're deserving of love too" she exclaimed in her loving tone as she caress my cheeks and I can't help but lean more on her.

Men or women, girls or boys, she saw them the same way. She was the definition of justice itself.

"Health is a strength too. Take care of it, hone it until you break its limit"

Learning from the Hashira that took her in, there was no doubt she would mimic their mannerism too.

I love those kinds of women.

Someone who doesn't tolerate my cruel treatment to others.

"Chiro, you shouldn't talk to them that way"

She keeps correcting my wrongdoings. She was literally my guardian angel.

The only woman I remember.

The only woman I put all my attention to. Dedicated every victory just to come back to her alive.

Until one night when she went on a mission.

There were supposed to be only normal demons in the mission she headed to, but she met one of the upper moon demon itself.

We were too late when we arrived. She was already in the arms of Doma, the upper rank two who are known to eat women.

I felt how my pupil shook that time as I saw her body covered in her own blood. She laid there lifeless before he took her with him.

Even Obanai who was with me didn't able to catch up to him.

I felt my world spin that time before I lose my consciousness for the first time.

The last thing I saw was the Serpent Hashira running back to catch my body.

And the moment I woke up, it was already reality. She was not here with me.

I didn't arrive home with her. She was taken away without me knowing if she was still alive or dead.

There's a part of me is hoping that the demon give her mercy and at least let her live.

I felt Obanai-san approach me before lending me her Haori. And I took it without second thought.

The only reminder of her...

I don't know what took over me but I found myself begging everyday to the Master to save her. I keep begging until I can't physically do it anymore.

We can't stand a chance on retrieving her back, not even her body.

"Master..."

"We are doing our best, Muichiro. But for now, take care of yourself" he stated as the older Hashiras held me to prevent myself on begging again.

"But Y/n..." My voice broke as tears never stop falling from my eyes. "We need to save her now, Master. I can't lose her too"

I cried out as the two Hashira just drag me out of the Master's quarters.

"Bring her back to me!" I screamed in anger as I snatched myself away from their grips and let my body fell to the ground.

"I can't lose her" I sobbed out as they let me cry my heart out on the path of stones.

My world turn cold, I lost the right direction. No one was holding my harsh personality back anymore.

No one was comforting me anymore.

I lost my backbone, I lost my lover.

In exchange, I stop caring for others.

I was blinded by anger that I didn't know I was slowly forgetting about her.

Mizuki Y/n

The second person that I didn't manage to save from the demons that ruined my entire life.

"Y/n..." I called her name as I started to recall everything.

How can I forget? The woman I was willing to bend the rules for. Even turn my back against the world.

The woman I would lay my life for...

Turn into the being that I despise the most.

My lover...

I didn't have time to choose my next move when I heard a familiar scream.

"I will slice you to shreds, you damn demon!"

I felt my heart drop as I saw the boar man already behind her. She is not focused.

The only thing she cares about right now... Is to see if I still remember her.

But who cares if she was turned into a demon? Does that make her less loveable?

Muichiro, get your grip together.

She is a demon, who knows what happened to those six years when both of you were apart.

But...

Seeing how she quickly recognizes me, she hasn't completely lost touch with her humanity.

Of her old self...

Without thinking, I ran to her who had her arms open for me for an embrace.

I took a hold of her hands before spinning her around to avoid Inosuke's attack.

And I felt the sharp pain on my back before both of us collapsed on the ground. I heard her gasp below me as she put her hands on my chest.

"I'm sorry Chiro" she apologizes with her glossy eyes but I just shook my head with a small smile on my lips.

"i just want to go back home" she sobbed out as I felt tears formed in my eyes.

"Demon or not, you are still my lover that I would save from the world." I told her as I heard Giyu prevent Inosuke on attacking again as I nuzzle my head on her shoulder.

She was still the same person no matter what.

"Don't worry Y/n. You have me... I'll bring you back home"

~°•°~

"What's with all of you breaking the rules" Tengen-san decided to visit after hearing the news while I decided to stay quiet as I kneel in front of the porch while waiting to meet Kiriya, the new master.

I never bother to care about the other Hashiras around me, because I only need the Master's opinion on my crazy idea about letting Y/n keep living.

Yes, who would agree when the cure is impossible to obtain now that Muzan and the twelve Kizuki's are gone.

It was utterly impossible to cure her now. She would always be a demon, she can't become a human anymore.

"The Master has arrived"

We all bowed in respect to the Master younger than me.

"It's nice to see all of you gather for this" he started as I raised my head from my bow that was lower than usual.

"I've heard your plea, Muichiro. But this request needs more time" he started as I kept my mouth shut.

"Y/n was a former tsuguko of Giyu. She was taken away out of her will during her mission. In this trial, we, the senior Hashiras, hope that you would at least consider that before any grave punishment bestowed to her case" I heard Obanai's words that made my heart warmed at least before I bowed at the young man in front of me.

"I have no complaints while the trial is ongoing. But may I at least request one thing?"

I ask the leader who gave me a nod that made me continue.

"Please let me stay with her throughout the whole trial"

The garden went silent as Mitsuri let out a small huh before Obanai covered her mouth.

"If that's what you want. I'll grant you that"

And I did stay with her the whole time.

I always gazed at her sleeping figure outside her cell.

If she would suffer, I would accompany her on that. I don't want to leave her again.

I love her, its my duty to become her ally, her support on her darkest time, and her lover to make her feel she is still loved and accepted by us.

I would never make her feel abandoned again...

#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny hashira #hashira x reader #kny muichiro #kny fanfic #muichiro tokito #demon slayer muichiro #muichiro x reader #love #comfort #angst #angst with a happy ending #Spotify

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kawoala · 30 days ago

Note

meeya i have a rq🙂‍↕️ HEAR ME OUT meeting ushijima at a ski resort or on the slopes

𝐖𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐀 not creepy! word count ; (562) content warning ; (i’ve never been to a ski resort so bear with me pls, short and not as good as i wanted it to be but its okay, winter lover! reader)

No matter how much anyone hates it, you will always love winter. Blankets of snow transforming familiar land into beautiful, quiet wonderlands. The crisp air outside makes being wrapped in blankets feel more luxurious. Intricate designs in windows caused by snowflakes.

Your favorite thing, though, is working at your uncle’s ski resort over christmas break. You’ve always loved snow and, in turn, you’ve always loved this ski resort. It’s just so cozy and warm and the employees are so friendly.

Your uncle doesn’t like you working ski patrol, or operating the ski lifts, so he puts you at the rental shop register, where you get to see new faces and meet new people everyday. If you could, you’d be out on the snow, helping people, but you like this job too.

As you’re finishing up with a family renting snowboards, the bell rings again, letting you know that a new customer has just entered the store.

“Thank you for renting with us,” you say to the mother. You watch her put an arm around her son and you smile. “Have a good time!”

Your gaze falls on the man that has just walked in. The first thing you notice is how tall he is. He could probably touch the ceiling if he reached his arm up— which, technically, anybody could do, since the roof is so low compared to other stores, but you’re still impressed. The second thing you notice is how handsome he is. Most guys you see here are objectively attractive— tall, nice hair, funny— but this guy is genuinely handsome.

“Hi!” You greet cheerily, involuntarily smiling a little bit too wide for your liking. “Welcome to Junji’s. What can I help you with today, sir?”

At first, he’s startled. You can understand why— sometimes you’re too loud for your own good. You let out a giggle and cover your mouth. “Sorry, that was a bit loud.” You take a dramatic deep breath and straighten your posture. “What can I help you with today, sir?”

He clears his throat and makes his way to the counter. “I need a snowboard, please.”

“You’ve come to the right place, then.” You pull the keyboard closer to you and start typing a new purchase. “Do you need boots, or did you bring your own? The boots won’t cost you anything if you need them, but they’re still just rentals, so you have to, you know, bring them back.” You look up, expecting a laugh or even a small smile, but he just stares at you.

“I brought my own boots.”

You press your lips together and nod. “Okay. Do you need a helmet?” He nods and you add it to the purchase. “We have all sorts of different boards in the store.” You gesture out to the floor of the store, where racks of snowboards stand. “Do you have a preference? If not, you can just pick one from the adults section over there.”

He picks out his board— blue and purple splatters— and you ring him up. He pays and turns to leave, but then looks at you and smiles softly. “Thank you. Have a good rest of your day.”

You smile back, giving him a small wave. “You too.” And no, it’s not creepy when you check the name on the card he paid with to stalk him on instagram later.

#kawoala #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! x reader #ushijima drabble #haikyuu!! ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima wakatoshi drabble #haikyuu!! ushijima #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #haikyuu ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima #return to sender

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unholywriter · 9 months ago

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Stars | Jaime Reyes x Fem!Reader

Warning: Fluff.

Paring: Magic Reader x Symbiotic alien infused bug boy.

a/n: I know it’s definitely not the time of year for Christmas but enjoy. 💙🪲

It was later, and your shift was ending. Working at a bar downtown in Palmera City, you never knew what kind of rambunctious shenanigans would unfold. But, for Christmas Eve, it was quiet. It was a godly slow day, not many stopped by aside the few occasional regulars wishing good holidays. Thankfully, it was coming to an end. Setting up the bar stools on the table, and making sure all was clean, capped and put away. You slid out the door, locking it behind you. Palmera was nippy, but it doesn’t get too terribly cold around this time of year.

Pulling up your scarf you walked looking at the text message from Jaime, your lover. A smile blanketed your face.

Jaime: Close went good?

You: Yes. Just stepping out now.

Jaime: Need a pick up? I’m near by.

You: What, a roof top a block over?

Jaime: Hey, rooftops are peaceful. 🥺

You: So is being wrapped up in my bfs arms but, sadly you like rooftops more. 😈

Jaime: You’re not going to let me live that down huh? Also, lamp post. 😂😭

As you read the last part you halted immediately. You were a few inches from running into it. You took a breath in and smiled looking up to the sky to see a silhouette of a particular blue looking suited boyfriend of yours. But you knew he was grinning ear to ear underneath that mask.

“tfihs em oot sih edis.” You whispered. Now it was your turn to grin ear to ear as you materialize right beside him. You swore a squeak left his mouth.

“Dios mío mi amor!” He hitched his breath, dramatically placing his hand on his chest. “You know you could have just let me come down and meet you right?”

“Maybe I like the rooftops too.” You smile, and move in closer to embrace him. He embraced you back, and just like he read your thoughts, and well. Khaji reading his; the suit’s mask dematerialized revealing his gorgeous face underneath. And damn those beautiful brown doe eyes of his.

“You were just teasing me about it.” He rolled his eyes, his grip gently squeezing you.

“I know.” You placed your lips against his tenderly, running your fingers though his hair as he kissed you back just as sweetly. “I’ve missed you JaiJai.”

“Sorry for being gone a week, I thought we caught wind on a lead for Ted.” He said grimly. His mood changing only made you soften your expression with more concern.

“How’s Jenny?” You pulled away slowly. You still didn’t leave his touch though. But you knew making sure he was okay and being his emotional support is more important than craving deep intimacy at the moment from him.

“She’s doing well for someone who found out her father is alive. Just not knowing where he is, you know. She’s worried.” He began to explain, his tone and pace nerve racked. You could only assume because, Ted, being his predecessor. A man he’s never met before. Definitely an unregulated, stressful situation. Not only that, Jenny and Jaime had some moments together. But, she stepped away knowing you two were more or so in love with each other without each other knowing. She was the one, (and Milagro) who gave you both a push ironically. Now it’s been a few months after Jaime had Khaji Da infused within him, Victoria Kord, and Jaime’s father almost dying. It’s been rough, but you’ve been there. As a best friend and his lover. He is thankful, and you know it. Just as much as you’ve been thankful for him all these years.

“I’m glad, but we’re here for her. She has you. And Milagro always makes it her business to make sure she and all of us are okay. So honestly, Jenny will be alright.” You smile, entangling your fingers within his. “You will be alright too, got that mi querido?”

“Loud and clear.” He smiled brightly, fighting back his tears. You reached up, rubbing your finger against his cheek.

“So, do you still want to visit the tree in town square?” You ask, making sure he’s up for it. Yes distractions are nice too get away from everything but you can’t always run away.

“Of course. But I actually had a better idea.” His grin pulled further, a bit of mischief being one of your favorite signature looks that spread across his face.

“What do you have in mind?” You grinned back, curious to what your boyfriend had in store.

“Just trust me?” He grabbed both your hands gently and started to walk backwards, leading you too the edge.

“Always.” You tittered softly, turning back into a soft smile. He then lifted you into his arms. His wings materialized and off you two went. The view was beautiful, of course you’re used to flying via magic yourself but being in his arms with the breeze hitting you even if it was chilly was very peaceful. Soon you could see Palmera City Square, the large Christmas tree erect in all its multicolored glory for season cheer.

“So pretty.” You spoke softly. “What now?”

You both now hovered a far distance from and over the tree. The crowd gathered below enjoying the festivity. “I thought we could have a once in a life time experience not many normal people can experience.”

“Oh?” You tucked some of his curled hair behind his ear still nice and snug in his arms. “So we’re not normal?”

Your tease made him laugh. “I have an alien symbiotic peice of technology infused into my back and connected to every cell in my human body and you? Well, you’ve never been normal mi tesoro.”

The tease back earned him a gentle smack to his shoulder. “Wow, if this is your way too whoo me tonight I might just have to up my game.”

“Hey! I meant you not being normal in the best way possible!” He cheesed. And you gave him a kiss on his cheek.

“I know my love. So what now?” You beamed happily. Patiently waiting for his goofy, lovable plan of his. Because well, both of you were sixty or so feet in the air and you were beginning to wonder if people looked up wondering what or who was hovering above them.

“Well.” He then begin to help you to where you were now dangling closely together. But your feet hung out, and gravity wasn’t to kind. “Uh.” He laughed nervously, his plan not working in his favor for the moment. “I was going to see if we could just, dance? But, I honestly didn’t think this part through.”

“It’s okay Jaime, that’s why having a girlfriend with magic comes in handy.” You giggled. Holding him close. Taking a breath in you closed your eyes and met his again. “Ekam eht ria a ecnad roolf, kaolc su nihtiw eht thgin.”

With ease your feet met an invisible flooring underneath the both of you. He looked down awe stuck with bewilderment but quickly smiled back. “What did…?”

“Now we can dance.” You took your arms wrapping them around his neck. He tenderly held you by your back. From below Christmas music rang, the smell of peppermint and pine filled both your senses. Laughter and happiness from people all over could be heard. It was truly magical.

“Okay, so bear with me mi amor. My two left feet might become a problem.” His cheeks turned a tint of pink, and soon an even more embarrassed expression crossed his face. “No Khaji!” He looked over his shoulder in a fit of sheepishness. Your smile pulled further.

“What did she say this time?”

“She said she could help me learn because she indulged herself to the internet the other night.” He rolled his eyes yet again.

“Oh no, that poor thing.” You gasped in actual horror. “I hope she didn’t delve too deep into the endless web of dark and treacherous Fortnite dances.”

“Do not give her any ideas.” He widened his eyes. You laughed again. Waiting patiently. “Besides, even if I trip over my feet as long as I’m dancing with you no matter how bad I am - that’s all that matters to me”.

You blushed softly. “Me too. Then lead the way Jai.”

Slowly, he began to lead. His steps a bashful disaster. But, he kept at it, soon both you moving in a circle of rhythm. “I think, I think we got!” He looked down and snapped back up with his playful, dramatic expression of giddiness. One of the many things that you fell in love with about him.

“We are!” You pressed your lips together tighter, and he then placed his forehead against yours.

“Feliz navidad mi estrella.” He said softly as the bells began to chime signifying midnight. “I love you so much y/n.”

“Feliz navidad Jaime. I love you so very much too amor de mi vida.” You softly spoke back. A gentle kiss was exchanged, and the both of you continued to dance above the city square. Locked deep in each other’s arms, but more importantly deep within each other’s hearts. And man, were the stars so pretty tonight as they watched the both of you fall in love deeply.

#jaime reyes #blue beetle movie #blue beetle #xolo maridueña #dc characters #dc comics #jaime reyes x reader

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that-one-random-writer · 2 years ago

Text

Rowdy Romance

Masterlist | A Southern Jake Series Here

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x (Southern!F)Reader

Part 2

Summary: You are visiting with a friend and find yourself alone in the Hard Deck. You're both what he was expecting and not.

Warnings: Cursing, flirting, mentions of shotgun, bull riding, and one hunting reference to killing and preparing a deer. Word count: 1,291

The Hard Deck was full. The sun had dipped down below the water line. Your vacation had slowed down. Your friend had made plans with her husband. She was visiting while her husband was stateside.

He had been on deployment for the last year. You had come with her for moral support when you both would have to leave without him.

You found yourself at the beach during the day and spending your nights out sight seeing alone. You can't blame her for spending all her time with her husband.

The couple had just a few more months until he would be back home before being restationed. You weren't excited because she would be moving back out to wherever he was stationed, but at the same time you are excited for her.

You found yourself at the bar that all the locals raved about. Each store owner, that you had spoke to that day, all said that Friday nights were spent at the hard deck. You were at the bar sitting in one of the bar stools. A few locals, and khaki uniformed men had offered you a drink.

There was no interest. Daddy had always said "if he can't skin a deer then how is he gonna feed you when the government crumbles?" Old Southerners still remember the great depression and hold the doomsday prepping dear to their hearts.

You had noticed the sign and kept your phone off the bar. It laid in your back pocket of your dazzled jeans. They had rhinestones in the shape of bull heads. You had an old, tight wife beater top on that cropped a little above your belly button. You looked very out of place in San Diego. You caught a few eyes for that very reason.

The next pair to land on you leaned his arm against the wood beam. "You're from my neck of the woods. Miss, How'd you find yourself up here in California?" His drawl thick.

Your eyes caught sight of the mystery man looking up slowly. His khaki uniform definitely added a nice touch to the voice he carried. "I'm here for a friend of mine." You didn't go into too much detail.

"Well I'll have to thank your friend for sending an angel my way. Can I buy you a round as a welcome to California?" You smiled softly. "Jack on the rock." He smirked. "Your daddy must carry a shot gun wherever he goes for an order like that." He chuckled. "Yes sir, it's on the rack in his truck, or in his hands."

"Penny, can I get two jack on the rocks please?" She smiled. "Sure thing, hangman" your lips curl up. "Hangman... is that what your called round here" His classic smirk finds it's way toward you. "Yes ma'am. That's my call sign."

A small giggle erupts. "I'm not even gonna ask." His smirk still showing. "It's better that you dont." You break the touch barrier slapping his arm softly. "Honey don't say that. You'll make me want to know." Your Laughs strike between your words.

He grabs the two glasses from Penny. "Thank you, Miss Penny." You call out as she goes to the next customer. She smiles and waves as a you're welcome. "Come on, we're gonna go out by the beach." You follow him.

"I told you not to bet him dumbass." Pheonix chuckled at coyote. "Rooster had spent five minutes trying to serenade her, and the new guy tried buying her a drink too." Pheonix popped up. "Thanks for the piña coloda, FNG" pointing to the Fucking New Guy. Coyote continued. "She had walls up to the roof. There's no way he could have got her in 5 minutes flat."

Pheonix laughed resting her chin on her knuckles. "He just did." She scrunched her nose up. "He is an asshole but he is good at picking up women." She flicked a straw wrapper at Rooster chuckling at him. They all began playing pool, and the guys keeping a check on hangman judging his game, making bets on if you would end up going home with him by the end of the night.

Your eyes followed the shoreline, meeting up to the stars. Lights lined the edge of the patio. You stood at the rail leaning in to smell the saltwater, and hear the waves crashing. "Your Jack." He handed your drink to you. "So you know my name, what's yours?" You took a sip of your drink, and tell him your name. "But you can call me, Minnie. That's what they call me back home." You smile brightly.

"Where does that come from?" He leaned against the rail next to you. "Oh no no, if you want to know mine then you have to tell me yours, hangman." Eyebrow arched searching his eyes for a back story. He chuckled and flashed a genuine smile. "Well, I'm a pilot and we get call signs. They call me Hangman, but the 'a's are blank so you can fill them how you like. Thats how I got it." He looked down finishing the innuendo. You laugh wickedly.

"Hungman, How many California girls has that really worked on? How did you actually get that name?" His head shook, chuckling. "Okay, okay, my friends say I hang them out to dry in the sky. They are exaggerating, they're fine. I got their backs. What about you, Minnie?" He looks out to the ocean then back to your eyes.

"My family owns a farms in Texas. When I was about three, I walked around the farm in nothing but a diaper and Minnie hat. They called me 'Minnie', and it stuck." You giggled at the memories of the picture with chickens crowding around you with your Minnie hat on. "Texas? You around the Rusk area?" You nodded. "We're out in Lufkin."

"No way, my family has a pretty big cattle ranch out in Rusk. Small world." Your eyes widen. "The Seresin cattle ranch?" He almost spits out the sip he had just taken. "Umm," he chuckled through the next few words. "Yeah, that's it." He met your eyes again. "My family moved their farm to Lufkin about six years ago, we go to the rodeos and see your family there every year. I've been bucked off jóse a few times. We have had dinner over at their house. They mentioned they had a son in the navy. I'm guessing your Jake..." You trail your words.

"That's me." He chuckles, thinking about you riding on Jóse the bull. "Your momma is so proud of you. Your daddy is too." You smile thinking about how much his momma had to say about her baby jake. "She never got around to show me a picture, but she was very adamant that you are handsome and single." You took your stare back to the water to keep the burn of the cheeks down. "One of them is right.. " You trailed.

He placed a hand at the small of your back leaning against the rail with his other arm. Your bare skin tingling where his hand was. "Both of them are." He smirked while glancing down your curves. "I'm guessing these California girls ain't amounting to what you thought they'd be." He spoke slowly while playing with the hem of your shirt. "No ma'am, they are not." Your eyes met his, and you rounded into his arms and placed your hand on his shoulder.

He leaned up, allowing him to pull you closer to him, his arms wrapped around you. Your southern drawl thickened. "Well, I guess you better find yourself a cowgirl." Your Eyebrow raised, and a smirk crossed your lips. "I think I found one."

No permissions to share the story as your own. Do not repost to any site. Don't steal from aspiring authors that makes you a 'C U Next Tuesday'!

#glen powell fanfiction #jake seresin #hangman imagine #jake hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #glen powell #glen powell x reader

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figthefruitfaeth · 2 years ago

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“Yeah that whole wall is Wayne’s, won’t even let me touch the top row cause they’re ‘collectibles’ and ‘you’ll bring down half the shelf just trying to get one’,” Eddie laughs, the roof of the car humming with his memory.

“Is he wrong though?” He asks, watching as Eddie’s eyes roll up and then over to him.

“No.”

“There you go then.”

A playful slap hits his chest, and Steve groans.

“You can take more than that, big boy,” he says, but offers the joint to him in apology.

The night eases in around them, the sky slipping from hazy blue to a shimmering black sky. The quarry is quiet, a few crickets chirping, the occasional churn of gravel of a passing car. Enough to know they aren’t alone, enough to know what exactly is with them.

Eddie is next to him breathing slow. Not too slow, just long deep inhales, shaky little rushed things on the exhale. He hears it, feels it through the vibrations of the roof, smells it as a thick cloud of weed joins the sky.

“What about you?” Eddie asks just as Steve is taking another drag. It’s the first thing either has said in a while, but it doesn’t feel abrupt, it doesn’t break the quiet or the quarry.

“What about me?”

Eddie turns to him, hand under his head, dark eyes on him.

“You ever collect anything?”

Steve meets his gaze, turns away to watch the stars after a moment.

In the back of his closet, underneath the winter jackets and crammed between some textbooks he never bothered returning, is a shoebox. Small, a children’s size seven, thin cardboard soft at the edges and yellowed out tape placed neatly on each side keeping it closed.

He started going on his parent’s trips when he was five. He was old enough not to cry and embarrass anyone with a temper tantrum, young enough to still be a darling charm for his mother to stride around. The meetings were boring, the places not entirely enticing for a little kid, a lot of waiting and stiff suits he’d only ever worn to church. That didn’t particularly matter to Steve. What he cared about, were the postcards.

Every hotel lobby front desk had them. A swinging rack of glittery, gaudy pieces of paper that could be mailed off to tell your friends of where you’d been. The nicer ones tended to be a bit more understated--less of a rack and more of a neat collection row of tasteful options for their clientele to peruse--but they all had them.

Every trip, Steve carefully went through the selection and picked out two. One for Tommy, who never got to go anywhere and always liked the flashy night time views. The second he sent to himself almost like a diary. It made the trip home just as exciting, because while his parents would retire to the bedroom and the boardroom, only ever coming out for dinner, at least Steve would have something who wanted him waiting for him.

When he was ten, his parent’s got varying degrees of promotions which sent them aboard, and had Steve stay home. An international flight for three people is too expensive, they said, and he’d be bored anyway. He didn’t really know how true the first one was, and the second he knew they hadn’t cared about before, but it was fine because he still got postcards.

This time they were from mom (sometimes signed by dad). Historic castles and glass monuments, holiday tidings in different languages and cobble stone streets. The messages were never really interesting--always just a brief summary of their plans and whether the date of their expected return had changed. Steve didn’t expect anything else, he knew who they were and what he was to them. The important thing was that they wrote, that they bought a roll of stamps to stick on, that they wanted to come back.

At fifteen, Tommy’s older brother gives him a joint, and they hole up in his basement with Carol, half of the liquor store’s snack aisle, and a copy of Airplane! His parents come home early that same night, and his dad yells at him for three hours.

He doesn’t get another postcard.

Steve takes another drag, letting the smoke sink into deep into himself, before letting it all go in one long breath.

“No. Not really.”

Eddie’s still looking at him, feels his gaze like a warm hand along his face--fingers dipping into the premature crows feet and over a necklace of scars. Steve doesn’t move, doesn’t look back to meet him, cause he already knows what face he’s making--eyes wide and assessing, soft but quick sharp. The face he always makes when they stumble into baggage.

The crickets chirp, a breeze flutters through the open zipper of his jacket. It’s been a warm March, but it still bites like winter when it wants to. Steve shivers, crosses his arms over his chest, joint a flicker of flame between his fingertips.

But before he can get too comfortable, it’s plucked from his hand. He whips his head to find Eddie taking a drag, then smothering what’s left of it on his roof.

“Hey--”

“I’ll clean it later, just--” and then Eddie’s got his hands on him, and Steve is too slow to stop him as he reconfigures them, pushing and pulling until Eddie is sitting up, Steve’s head in his lap looking up at him.

“I was really comfortable as is, ya know,” he says, but doesn’t make to move. Eddie is looking at him, but there’s a smirk on his lips, eyes a shimmering black.

“Let’s get you one.”

“One what?”

“A collection,” he whispers, like it’s a secret. A hand cards through his hair, sending small little shivers down his spine. “Like Wayne’s mugs.”

“You want me to collect something?”

“Yeah, why not. It’d be something for you to have, to take care of--other than me and the brats.”

If it weren’t for the conviction in his voice, the earnest expression across his face, Steve might’ve thought he was fucking with him. Or maybe had too much weed.

“What--” Steve tries, amused if also bewildered at where this is going. “What would I even collect? That’s not a thing you can just, start.”

Eddie snorts. “I wasn’t born with tattoos, Steve-o. You could do anything--coins, baseball cards, records. Model cars would be up your alley, if a little on the nose.”

The thought of a matching coin collection with Keith makes him gag.

“No? Fair, okay. Oh, you know what? You strike me as a Beanie Baby kind of guy. Yeah.”

“Beanie Babies?” Unbelievable.

“Brownie the Bear not enough for you? We’ll get you the set don’t worry--”

“Eddie--”

“And if you’re good, I’ll see if I can swing Peanut in time for your birthday--”

“Absolutely not, no fucking way,” but Steve is giggling, and then Eddie is too, which just sets him off further, until tears are welling up, both of them gasping for breath over the stupidest thing.

Once they finally manage to calm down, breathing easy save for the stray little laugh that escapes, Steve swallows, whispers, “I love you.”

Eddie smiles sweetly, presses a kiss to his forehead. “I love you too.”

At twenty, warm and loose between his boy and the wide arms of spring, Steve starts collecting something new.

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #my work #my writing #lets all graciously pretend beanie babies came out in 1987 instead of 1993

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lvrhughes · 1 year ago

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I Love You, I'm Sorry | C. Caufield

pairing: Cole Caufield x gn!reader?

word count: 1.1k

summary: part 2 to Do You Know How Hard I Tired, after Cole's outburst he comes over to apologize

warnings: none? cursing (a lot oops)

“Hey,” The beg interrupted by a sniffle before returning, “could you come pick me up please?”

“Babe, what happened? Are you okay? I’ll be there in five.”

At least you could always count on him, Arber Xhekaj. He was like a giant teddy bear, one you befriended quickly.

No more than three minutes later, Arber was back, pulling in front of you and running out of his car.

“Babes, what happened?” His tone was soft, his arms quickly tugging you into a hug, letting you break down into sobs.

“Cole.” was all you managed out.

“I’m going to kill him.” He growled, his grip tightening around you. He was the only person you had ever told about Cole, and you told him everything.

“Don’t”

“Babes, he hurt you, he’s not getting away with this.”

“I hurt me, it’s my fault, i wasn’t supposed to fall in love.”

“That was a shitty rule, you’ve always loved him.”

It was the truth, yet it didn’t hurt any less. He was quick to bring you home, constantly checking you were okay before leaving for the night.

You could hear your phone buzz on the counter, ignoring it for the peace of some random show you had thrown on, only reacting when your phone began alerting you of a call.

His photo popped up on screen, sending chills through your body, laying the phone back on the couch beside you now. Peeking when it stopped.

Over 100 messages, 2 voicemails, and far too many snaps. He had gotten desperate. Going through everything to reach you, yet always coming up short. Making the choice to put your phone on do not disturb before returning to the TV.

It was a peaceful half hour before there was persistent banging on your door, urging you to get up and get rid of whoever was there.

“If you are Cole Caufield you better be thirty feet from the door right now or I bring out my throwing knives!” You yelled, slowly walking to the door, opening it quickly.

Cole stood there, hands in his pockets, leaned against the wall.

“You have shitty aim, your knives don’t scare me.” He grinned, earning you to slam the door in his face. “Hey!”

“Fuck off Cole!” You yelled back, turning to the stairs leading to your room.

Falling onto your bed as you entered, rolling over to lay on your back, staring at the roof. Until the sound of your window opening jolted you from the trance. Seeing Cole crawling through the window.

“Cole, what the fuck?”

“Stop ignoring me.” He said as he stood, brushing his pants off.

“Stop being a dick.” You countered, making him roll his eyes.

“I’m not being a dick.”

“I told you I love you and you told me it was all my fault and yelled at me to leave. Pretty dick move to me, now get the fuck out Cole!”

“Okay, fine, I’m a dick, I’m a horrible person, but I can’t lose you.”

Silence seemed like the best answer, leaving him to run his hands through his hair in a panic. Quickly pacing the room, leaving you sitting on the edge of your bed as he did.

“Say something! Please God, Mon Amour, do something! Anything! Scream, yell, something that shows me you still care!”

You shook your head, getting up to walk out the door. His hand quickly reaches out and grasps your wrist. His movements quick, dragging you into his chest as his arms wrapped around you, leaving you wiggling in his arms.

“Cole let go!”

“Please, please, I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry. I love you so much, don’t leave.” You could feel his tears drip onto your shoulder, his body racking with sobs.

“Cole, pull yourself together! This is your fault.” His arms finally dropped, letting you slip away, returning to your kitchen for a drink.

Cole following shortly after, seeing you pour a glass of wine. His body stood behind your kitchen island, keeping distance.

“I’m so sorry, I’m stupid, I can’t handle anything and I’m in love with you.”

His words making you turn to stare, sipping your glass of wine while you listened before replying gently.

“Cole, this doesn’t fix anything. You blamed me for something I didn’t have a part in, you yelled at me for falling in love with you as if I chose that.”

“I know, God I know, I’m so sorry. I know that doesn’t mean anything, I just, fuck. I fell for you so quick and I thought friends with benefits would satisfy me but it didn’t. I just fell harder for you and then they chirped me for it and I couldn’t take it. I wanted so badly to yell back at them that your mine and they should be jealous but your not and now I’ve fucked it up.”

His words said quickly, almost slurred together as you sipped your wine, listening to his panic and slur of words.

“Breathe, Cole.” You heard the breath he took after you interrupted before continuing on another speech.

“Cole, stop.” He paused, his whole body still, almost shaking with nerves. “You know I can’t just tell you it’s fine and I love you?”

He was quick to interrupt with a short ‘yes I know I didn’t expect that’ before you continued.

“But I love you so much even when you broke my heart I still wanted you, so, if you’ll agree, we’ll go slow?”

“Yes! Yes please yes, I need you and I fucked up and I’ll be saying sorry forever. I just need you.” With each word he took a step closer, standing right in front of you, his hands reaching to cup your face.

Hesitation on his face, the way his hands froze just before touching you. Waiting for confirmation, letting you nod before he touched you. Leaning into his touch, feeling the breath he let out as you did was comfort for him.

“Can I kiss you?” The words slipped past his lips quicker than he could think, the look of panic on his face confirming, making you laugh a little.

“Yes.”

Without hesitation his lips fell on yours, letting you melt into the kiss, your hands running through his hair and his secure around your waist.

“I love you so much, I’m so sorry.” He mumbled against your lips, earning you to shake your head a press further into him.

“You’ll make it up I’m sure.” You promised against his lips, a small smile playing on yours.

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