#13 years back and I still want to dress like this

[fashionlandscapeblog]

Céline Spring 2011

[garashir]

so fun turning on an episode of cw’s supernatural and dean winchester is wearing an outfit I own

[mecachrome]

notes from nicole piastri's interview on red flags pod

oscar started playing monopoly and chess when he was 4-5 but he was too good at chess (relative to nicole) that she boycotted it

nicole opened her twitter account because oscar wasn't replying to her at boarding school and she needed a place to chastise him ("can you not answer... i KNOW you're on your phone") (it worked because he started replying to her there)

instead of unflappable she calls him "conservative"

even during christmas and birthdays he was never super excited, one time they went with a group of 5 mums and 5 kids to a hi-5 concert (popular australian kids' musical group) and while all the kids were "going nuts" oscar just sat there "focused the whole time" and didn't smile or move lmfao. they were like 3 years old

didn't know what she was doing with oscar as a baby because he was her first child and her mothers' group was her only reference and they went "isn't the best part of the day when you wake up and go to their crib and they smile at you?" and she was like ??? because oscar would wake up and just SCREAM every single day needing to be out of there immediately and she thought that was just normal... then she had the girls and went "ahhhh... so that's what they're talking about"

when he was younger than 2 he needed them to read car magazines to him and was already obsessed with all things automotive and while they were driving would just name off and point out car brands by their badges

for a long period of time he behaved like he was a car and would "spin" his wheels and pretend to accelerate and run like a car lol

did a big burnout the first time he was on a bike (it had training wheels but he still learned very early)

as a mum she wishes he'd chosen golf or tennis since it's much safer than f1 and sometimes people tell her that she technically had a say in that when he was a kid and she said "but i didn't! it was just in him!!!"

won an academic award when he was 13 and she was president of the parents' community so she presented it to him, normally these events are super formal and you simply shake hands but she gave him a big kiss and instead of acting embarrassed or spluttering he looked at the crowd, nodded silently, and walked off

came back for the summer a few years ago and they were biking on the beach together when she had to brake hard to avoid a kid and went over, when she recovered and got back on he went "are you all right?" very deadpan but after they got home they checked his heart rate monitor and saw that he was totally steady the whole time except for when she crashed and his heart rate went through the roof, told him "ah so you do have a heart... we just don't see it"

"there's no sibling that can piss him off?" "well he's a boy with three girls so he just doesn't go there because he's never going to win"

met lily in person for the first time when he came home for the melbourne grand prix (was still alpine reserve), at midnight oscar was like "hey mum you know the dts film crew are coming tomorrow morning right?" and she was like WHAT... and he was like yeah it'll be chill they just want to film us having breakfast like a normal family or whatever and she was like Mate you haven't lived here for 5 years now do you know what breakfast looks like. it looks like your sisters storming downstairs and grabbing an inappropriate breakfast and storming out the door giving me the finger!!! and then the next morning lily comes down and nicole is like "oh is oscar up?" and lily is like no... i think he's still in bed... (many such cases) and then mae refused to be in it so she got dressed and ran off to school 2 hours early to escape them. and then the mclaren fiasco happened and the whole thing got cut out of dts anyway

when she said "oh my god you met matt damon!" he was just like (shrugs) "yeah... yeah..."

they communicate by facetiming and he's Always lying in bed. one time in bahrain he was leaning back on an ornate tapestry and she asked what hotel he was staying at and he was like oh i'm at the royal palace i'm like a guest of the crown prince. she freaked out and was like "oh my god!!! get your head off the tapestry!!!" and he just looked back like ? no it's fine it looks pretty old lol

called her to tell her that he signed his f1 contract and when he said mclaren she Realized and was like oh no i love daniel!! and he straight up deadpanned "yeah everyone loves daniel. that's going to be a problem..." and said verbatim "of all the f1 drivers ever daniel is the worst one to be replacing"

one time in f4 chris couldn't go to a race and billy monger had just had his crash so she flew to the uk for the weekend to support him and when she was driving him back to boarding school she was happy because she had 2 hours to spend with him and she wasn't sure when she'd see him again but instead he slept the whole way through and the moment they got back to school he went "ahhhh... home sweet home" and she wanted to slap him lmfao

first day of primary school when he was 5 years old he said he didn't need her to walk him to school and she was like "well i actually do mate" so he forced her to walk behind him the whole way and the moment they got there he turned to her and went "all right i'm here you can go now" 😭

the chinese & italian & yugoslavian is on chris's side of the family while nicole's is scottish & irish ("that's where the pasty skin comes from")

red flags pod sent her a shirt with oscar's face composed of His Tweet and she showed it to him and he immediately said he wanted it

he gave her a small warning before he posted the tweet but it was just like "mum so this is going to happen just don't worry about it. it's all under control. it'll be fine" and was very calm the whole time

"we just had to trust that his personality would come through at some point, because the way he came across was not at all what he's like. people will work out who the real you is so just continue to do what you do" 🥺

all of the kids were obsessed with Cars (2006)

likes his mum's golden syrup dumplings and grandmother's rumballs

AT THE SINGAPORE GP IN 2023 HATTIE DISAPPEARED FOR HOURS TO GO SEE A K-POP CONCERT 😭😭😭😭 i think it was p1h lmfao (nicole was asked for her favorite group and went "i have no idea. five boys") ((it's txt)) meanwhile oscar is only into house music and she thinks everything he plays is the same song

did pilates when he went home but never with her and thinks it's a lot harder than it looks

takes him minimum 24 hours to respond to anything she sends

she had an exact conversation with oscar where she asked who he wanted to be teammates with and he said "well if i go up against lando i don't even have to get close the first year because everyone knows how good he is" 😭

oscar you are so you 🧡

[lewisvinga]

chemtrails over the country club | max verstappen x fem! reader

summary; nobody’s son and nobody’s daughter finally find peace with each other after the toughness of their childhood.

warnings; mentions of abusive parents, drinking, yelling

note; i play this song 10x a day tbh

word count; 953

taglist; @namgification

‘born to die’ series masterlist

f1 masterlist !

It was no secret that Max Verstappen didn’t have a normal childhood.

On top of spending his childhood karting, his father was tough. He often never let young Max have fun or play football on Sundays, young Max had to spend all his time racing no matter the conditions.

He was a ticking time bomb. If he didn’t win a race, people made sure to steer clear of him. He had a short temper.

13 year old Max felt his heart stop for a second as he realized he finished 4th. Not even on the podium. He could already see the angry face of his father and his loud voice as he made its way out of the kart.

His fathers voice sounded like a snake hissing. It intimidated young Max. His father kept a tight grip on his shoulder that he was sure would bruise. He glances up at his father for him to say something, anything.

But all 13 year old Max received was a few words that broke his heart. “You’re not my son. You’re not a Verstappen with that 4th.”

It was no secret that Max earned the nickname ‘Mad Max’ as a result from his childhood. With the way his face turns red and the curses slips from his mouth, nobody wanted to be around when he’s angry.

So it was a shocker when people found out who he was dating. A walking ball of sunshine dressed in pink bows and white lace, y/n was the only one to tame ‘Mad Max’. With her, Max didn’t seem to have to worry about disappointing her. She was always proud of him and she made sure he knew.

However, Y/n wasn’t always the ball of sunshine. Just like Max, she grew up with a toxic parent but it was her mother.

Being the oldest of 3, it meant it was up to her to take care of her siblings meanwhile her mother disappeared on Fridays just to come back black out drunk on Sunday nights. Having her childhood stripped from her made her into the bubbly person she was. Yet, her mother was still strict with her during her studies. Anything else but an A+ meant failure.

Y/n felt herself shake from fear as she walked down the sidewalk after stepping off the bus. In her backpack was a history exam with the letter B written in red. Her younger brother and sister ran in front of her with wide smiles while retelling their day in school.

Y/n’s eyes widened as she saw her mother standing at the front door. She knew that she had to give her the exam. Her siblings ran inside to their rooms to play with their toys while she stayed by the front door. With shaking hands, she pulls out the exam for her mother.

She could already smell the alcohol from her mother's mouth as she let out a deep sigh. “You’re not my daughter. My daughter wouldn’t cause me such disappointment.”

Their bond of having a tough childhood was what brought them together. They often spent nights sharing stories and relating to each other's experiences. With Max, she was able to let loose and enjoy herself.

There were moments when their past still affected them, much like during a snow day.

Y/n and Max were wearing big coats, tough boots, warm gloves, and everything else needed for a snow day. They sat on the steps of the front porch of the local country club they were a part of, watching the kids of other members laugh and play, something neither got to do.

“Max, let’s go take a walk around.” She suggested since it was the closest to being able to play in the snow in her mind.

The Dutch happily agreed and started ranting her about something as they made their way down the driveway. Y/n kept focusing on him and the crunch of the snow beneath her black boots. A small smile crept up her lips as she noticed her boyfriend was still distracted. She pauses for a second and he continues to walk and rant.

“And then, I said-“ Max pauses, noticing the lack of Y/n presence. “Liefje?” He questions and turns around to face her. Suddenly, his cheek was met with something cold.

Y/n lets out a gasp. “That was supposed to hit your back!” She exclaims with wide eyes and a frown. “I’m sorry! I meant to hit your back then you-“ She was so distracted with rambling, that she didn’t notice him pack some snow into a ball.

Mid-ramble, she felt the ball hit her scarf-covered neck. Her previous frown quickly turned into a smile. Immediately both of them started to create snowballs and throw them at each other.

She suddenly sees him charging towards her. She lets out a squeal as she runs away. She ran around the snowy fields, not caring if the other adults were staring at them due to their childish behavior.

Suddenly, Max jumps in front of her and causes both of them to fall to the ground. She pushes him off of herself and he rolls to the side. They were both lying on their backs, taking deep breaths between laughter.

“Max, look,” Y/n says, pointing at a white line in the sky that was led by a small dot. It was a chemtrail, signifying that there was a plane. “Surprised people are traveling now.”

“Yeah, that’s ’cause it’s now snowing anymore.” He explains, keeping his eye on the white line.

They fell into a comfortable silence as they lay in the pillowy white snow. They were once nobody’s son and nobody’s daughter. But now, Max and Y/n found the comfort they wanted in their lives as they lay in the snow, watching the chemtrails over the country club.

[inkskinned]

you're grabbing lunch with a nice man and he gives you that strange grimace-smile that's popular right now; an almost sardonic "twist" of his mouth while he looks literally down on you. it looks like he practiced the move as he leans back, arms folded. he just finished reciting the details of NFTs to you and explaining Oppenheimer even though he only watched a youtube about it and hasn't actually seen it. you are at the bottom of your wine glass.

you ask the man across from you if he has siblings, desperately looking for a topic. literally anything else.

he says i don't like small talk. and then he smiles again, watching you.

a few years ago, you probably would have said you're above celebrity gossip, but honestly, you've been kind of enjoying the dumb shit of it these days. with the rest of the earth burning, there's something familiar and banal about dragging ariana grande through the mud. you think about jeanette mccurdy, who has often times gently warned the world she's not as nice as she appears. you liked i'm glad my mom died but it made you cry a lot.

he doesn't like small talk, figure out something to say.

you want to talk about responsibility, and how ariana grande is only like 6 days older than you are - which means she just turned 30 and still dresses and acts like a 13 year old, but like sexy. there's something in there about the whole thing - about insecurity, and never growing up, and being sexualized from a young age.

people have been saying that gay people are groomers. like, that's something that's come back into the public. you have even said yourself that it's just ... easier to date men sometimes. you would identify as whatever the opposite of "heteroflexible" is, but here you are again, across from a man. you like every woman, and 3 people on tv. and not this guy. but you're trying. your mother is worried about you. she thinks it's not okay you're single. and honestly this guy was better before you met, back when you were just texting.

wait, shit. are you doing the same thing as ariana grande? are you looking for male validation in order to appease some internalized promise of heteronormativity? do you conform to the idea that your happiness must result in heterosexuality? do you believe that you can resolve your internal loneliness by being accepted into the patriarchy? is there a reason dating men is easier? why are you so scared of fucking it up with women? why don't you reach out to more of them? you have a good sense of humor and a big ol' brain, you could have done a better job at online dating.

also. jesus christ. why can't you just get a drink with somebody without your internal feminism meter pinging. although - in your favor (and judgement aside) in the case of your ariana grande deposition: you have been in enough therapy you probably wouldn't date anyone who had just broken up with their wife of many years (and who has a young child). you'd be like - maybe take some personal time before you begin this journey. like, grande has been on broadway, you'd think she would have heard of the plot of hamlet.

he leans forward and taps two fingers to the table. "i'm not, like an andrew tate guy," he's saying, "but i do think partnership is about two people knowing their place. i like order."

you knew it was going to be hard. being non-straight in any particular way is like, always hard. these days you kind of like answering the question what's your sexuality? with a shrug and a smile - it's fine - is your most common response. like they asked you how your life is going and not to reveal your identity. you like not being straight. you like kissing girls. some days you know you're into men, and sometimes you're sitting across from a man, and you're thinking about the power of compulsory heterosexuality. are you into men, or are you just into the safety that comes from being seen with them? after all, everyone knows you're failing in life unless you have a husband. it almost feels like a gradebook - people see "straight married" as being "all A's", and anything else even vaguely noncompliant as being ... like you dropped out of the school system. you cannot just ignore years of that kind of conditioning, of course you like attention from men.

"so let's talk boundaries." he orders more wine for you, gesturing with one hand like he's rousing an orchestra. sir, this is a fucking chain restaurant. "I am not gonna date someone who still has male friends. also, i don't care about your little friends, i care about me. whatever stupid girls night things - those are lower priority. if i want you there, you're there."

he wasn't like this over text, right? you wouldn't have been even in the building if he was like this. you squint at him. in another version of yourself, you'd be running. you'd just get up and go. that's what happens on the internet - people get annoyed, and they just leave. you are locked in place, almost frozen. you need to go to the bathroom and text someone to call you so you have an excuse, like it's rude to just-leave. like he already kind of owns you. rudeness implies a power paradigm, though. see, even your social anxiety allows the patriarchy to get to you.

you take a sip of the new glass of wine. maybe this will be a funny story. maybe you can write about it on your blog. maybe you can meet ariana grande and ask her if she just maybe needs to take some time to sit and think about her happiness and how she measures her own success.

is this settling down? is this all that's left in your dating pool? just accepting that someone will eventually love you, and you have to stop being picky about who "makes" you a wife?

you look down to your hand, clutching the knife.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬 ||Stanley Pines||

A/n: Stan would be an amazing father, and him being a girl dad! Just 👏

Request: found here

Plot:

So, like Stanley Pines is a girldad, we know that (he and Mabel are so🥺) and have twin girls. The dude starts to bawl his eyes out when he finds out when you tell him you are pregnant.

Even more when he finds out you are having girls

Bonus if they have inherited the sixth finger from Uncle Ford(as soon as he has his little nieces on his arms, he won't let his brothers take the girls from his arms)

"Ford, give me back my daughters!"

"I need to check if they are alright!"

Stan knew he must have hit the jackpot when he met you, after years of failed relationships the man had honestly given up of even dating.

And then his brother pulled your car off the road. It could have been a fling, sure he liked you. You were a beautiful woman, you were kind to Mabel and Dipper. To be honest, he couldn't help but feel his heart race a bit fast when he saw your interactions with the 13 year olds.

Sure it was painful knowing you were leaving, you did spend weeks with him.

But you didn't...when it came time for you to leave, for you to just pack your things and go instead you stated and he couldn't have been more happier because while he may not believed it back then, he had found his soulmate.

Maybe he actually owed Edna an apology for her saying it would happen one day.

Though this....this was even better. If he was being honest, this was a better feeling than when Ford stepped through that portal.

"You're what?" His voice croaked, he swallowed thickly.

"Pregnant." You gave him a weak smile, you didn't know how to tell him, part of you scared not knowing how he would even react to this sort of news.

Stan's eyes went wide, his heart nearly coming to a stop. 'Pregnant'

He stared down at you for a long while, trying to get his thoughts in order. After a few moments, Stan pulled you even closer against his chest, his arms wrapping around you. His eyes closing for a moment as he buried his nose into your neck.

"How...how long have you known for?" His voice was soft, a mixture of panic and excitement in his tone.

Blinking a few times, shocked at his reaction you looked up at him the best you could. "A...a few days...I wanted to make sure..wait...you...you're not upset?"

Stan could only chuckle. 'Upset? He was ecstatic!'

"Why in the world would I be upset? You're kidding, right? Dollface, you're gonna have my baby. I'm the luckiest man alive."

He leaned down and pressed several soft kisses against your head. Then gave you a smile as he let his finger glided across his cheek though his eyes then went wide as he stepped back looking you over making sure you were okay.

"I didn't hurt ya did I?"

Letting out a snort, you gave him a grin placing your hand on his cheeks. "No you didn't hurt me Stan, I'm fine...I'm wonderful actually." You muttered resting your head against his chest as the man slowly wrapped around your body.

"I'm feelin wonderful too sweetheart....I'm the happiest man alive right now." Blinking back some tears, he smiled as he placed a kiss to the top of your head.

Months passed and Stan did his best to help you out with all your needs. Ford helping his brother and you move into a house near by knowing it would be safer for you and the child.

But it was one ultrasound that had the man bursting into tears. His eyes glued to the screen as the Obstetrician applied the jell to your belly. He felt your hand holding his but it still did not feel real, especially when the woman informed him that he was not only having twins, but twin girls.

"I'm not cryin! You can't prove nothin!"

Grinning you tucked your phone away as you tugged the dress down. "The video I have saved on my phone say's other wise." Shaking your head you took a deep breath in placing a hand on your belly, the sonogram photos securely in Stan's wallet. "Now let's go home...I am tired." It would explain the excessive kicking you've felt.

Sniffling, Stan cleared out his throat then brushed his tears away as he placed his hand on your belly doing his best to sooth you. "You two hear that...your mother is tired so let her rest."

Smiling, you let your fingers run through Stan's hair, the man leaning into your touch. "They love your voice Stan."

Still holding your hips, he gave you a watery smile as small tears ran down his cheeks. "Thank you."

It was a hard birth, but Stan never left your side. The man letting you hold his hand, squeeze it whenever you were in pain. Him often telling you jokes to make you laugh, or stories of him and Ford, the things the saw, things about his childhood then soon his little girls were in his arms. "Ha can you believe it...six fingers...just like your Uncle Ford."

Relaxing into the hospital bed, a weak chuckle escaped your lips as you let your gaze focused on Stan. It was an adorable sight, to see someone who held his emotions in to break down from just holding two infants. "They're gonna be daddy's little girls aren't they?"

You can see he held so much love for them, that he would do anything for them.

Shaking his head for a moment, Stan blinked away his tears as he slipped his glasses off due to them fogging up. "Damn right they will be. Nothin will be out of their reach..." he wouldn't hold them back, he wouldn't scream or yell at him, he wouldn't kick them out for a little mistake.

He wouldn't be like his father...he will be better.

"....hehe...I can't wait to show em off to everyone. Mabel said she made em little hats...gonna be adorable."

He muttered looking down at the twins asleep in his arms until his gaze landed on you. "Get some sleep beautiful...I got em."

Stan knew everyone wanted to see the twins and while he let the people he trusted take a look at them he refused to let anyone hold them that was not him or you. Oh no they will have to wait until his precious beans were older.

"Just let me hold them Stanley...it's been a month." Ford glanced at his brother rolling his eyes. "You're being a baby hog."

Scowling, Stan glanced at you. Giving him a smile you nodded your head. "Just...be careful." He muttered reluctantly.

Once in his arms, Ford smiled down at his nieces as he then spotted their six tiny fingers. "How adorable....I will protect you both with my life...you will not be bullied like me."

Shifting his weight from one foot to another, Stan then cleared out his throat. "Alright give'em back Ford."

"I think not! I would like to spend time with my nieces Stanley." Turning his back, the man powered walk away.

"Stanford! Give me back my daughters!"

"I need to check if they are alright!"

"What! Ford! Get your ass back here!"

Sighing, a smile tugged at your lips as you watched Stan chase after your brother. Shaking your head you sat down in the plush chair closing your eyes. It was good to be home.

[eneablack]

shifted again. stayed for years.

to sum it up, it was like those magical ancient movies, like maleficent or similar.

i’ll use google to translate my notes.

🧺🍃🍵 the shift -

I wanted to do the alice in wonderland method because lately I've been attracted by that and then it was recommended to me in a slide on tt ("your month of birth = your shifting method") so I put on alunir's guided meditation. at the beginning I still felt a little detached as if I was visualizing from the outside, but then I remembered "you are already in barbados" so I applied living in the end remembering that I am the creator. when the meditation was making me visualize being under a tree and feeling the grass under myself, I started to feel it quickly, usually it takes me longer but this time it happened instantly, and it didn't take long before I started feeling the wind on my face and the grass under my fingers. it was quick and I found myself there. it wasn't in my ideal reality because the meditation hadn't yet made me choose the doctor, but I found myself in the visualized place.

I didn't get up right away because I felt great down there at that moment. I was lying under a large willow tree with my head resting on a root full of moss. the ground was strangely not too hard because there was a lot of grass, and there were also some flowers nearby. the wind was blowing hard but the sun was high so the heat passed through the leaves, it was really nice. at a certain time I sat down and noticed that I was wearing a light white dress, and that my knees were dirty. in front of me there was a pond with some animals around it, I could hear ducks and I saw two squirrels, and then I also saw some animals that seemed magical, but then I also started hearing voices in the distance, and also some music. I put my feet in the water and tried to play with a small blue animal, which didn't seem to be afraid of me. the music got louder but I still wasn't curious to go and see what was happening over there, but at that moment I turned slightly towards the woods and saw a figure watching me and then immediately hiding. at first it scared me (I almost shat myself) but then I managed to see that it was just a guy, probably my age, and I noticed the clothes from another era. then I approached him but he apologized and told me to stay away, but obviously I was too curious so I went around the tree and we met (even if it was difficult initially because he was shy). when I said goodbye to the boy I followed the noises and found myself at the wedding party of my mother, apparently the queen.

I was there for about some decades, and I had a very chill time initially, but then things got complicated with the kingdom and I decided to come back here, I didn't want to find myself traumatized by another war. the most interesting thing about this shift was the nature part and its magic (I didn't have powers though), and the relationship I had with that guy, Raphael.

I'm still tired, but if you have any questions or curiosities I'll take the time to answer them, also because I really liked that reality, even if it was simple and not adventurous. I took some notes about what happened before I forget due to memory suppression.

(i just realised i said i stayed three years?? it was definitely not 3 but rather more than 13 what the hell sorry i just woke up)

[godmadeaterribleerror]

No Love Lost Series Masterlist

Series Summary

Three years ago you were normal, the only demons you had to fight were your own, and you the most you knew of Vought and the Boys were what you saw on TV. But then you met Homelander at a stupid party, and woke up the next morning in a cell.

After almost two and a half years of you being Homelander's little project, Soldier Boy was woken up only go rouge and be put back under. Somewhere in there, you escaped. And before Queen Maeve went underground, she told William Butcher about the Anomaly, a powerful supe who recently escaped Vought captivity and may have an agenda against Homelander.

One month later, the Boys found you.

You spend the next five months helping them best you can, though your control over your powers is weak and your fear of Homelander makes you useless in combat. But you get an idea. A stupid, dangerous idea that turns you into Soldier Boy's keeper, giving him a second chance to take down Homelander, you hanging over his shoulder, a threat should he want to go nuclear again. It's exhausting and frustrating, and you might kill him and yourself as soon as this is over, but you said whatever it takes.

And this is what it takes.

Author's Note

This story is non-canon compliant, with the two main differences being;

1) Butcher doesn't have brain cancer, because I said so.

2) All of Gen V didn't take place, because I don't want to deal with the whole supe-plauge thing. Also that's too many characters to keep track of squad.

Because of this, the story will start in a similar setting as s4e5, but with different events leading up to it, and will deal with similar themes and have similar events to the rest of s4, but at an inconsistent rate. If you have any questions about other, smaller changes I have made, feel free to ask!

Rating/Warnings: 18+ for canon-typical violence, swearing, mental health issues, mentions of rape/non-con, and sexual content.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, slow burn, eventual smut, angst, fluff.

Read on A03!

Chapter List

Chapter 1 - Where Winning Looks Like Losing

Chapter 2 - A New Kind of Tension

Chapter 3 - You've Torn Your Dress

Chapter 4 - You Might Be The Same As Me

Chapter 5 - Popped, Cool, and Ready to Go

Chapter 6 - I've Been Searching for a Fortified Defense

Chapter 7 - The Blinding Ultra-Violence

Chapter 8 - I Just Find My Way Back

Chapter 9 - Can't Cover It Up

Chapter 10 - Lead Me To The Ark

Chapter 11 - The Wolves or The Ocean Rocks

Chapter 12 - While My Blood's Still Flowing

Chapter 13 - The Terror of Knowing

Chapter 14 - Choke on Sun

Chapter 15 - I Found A Martyr

Chapter 16 - Let It Flood

Chapter 17 - Make My Chest Stir

Chapter 18 - Something In The Static

Bonus Footage (One-Shots)

As Much As I Do - Request! Ben finds Sunshine dancing, is immediately very normal about it. Takes place after Chapter 14 and around Chapter 15.

Back to Here - Request! They get horny at the dining table and Butcher takes it personally. Takes place in Chapter 14

[st-dionysus]

(The Poem is named) Emetophobia CW

It’s 2024 and I’m in a 20 year old drag bar, watching the very first trans-masculine performer to compete on their stage, he gets second place even though he deserved first.

I show up to the men’s bathhouse on trans night to get free entry and get turned away at the door, and told it’s for transgirls only, bitch you could have put it on the flyer that transmen need not apply.

I’m doing a line of ketamine off the table, calling it stealing transfem valor.

I get banned from the camsite for listing myself as transgender when I don’t have a dick, I complain online and get told that the trans-masculine body is to grotesque to be fetishized and I should be grateful.

I wear a packer and hitch up a skirt, walk the street, get $20, calling it stealing transfem valor.

Cissie puts a TW #body-mutilation tag under my thirst trap. Tranny puts a TW #dysphoria tag under my thirst trap.

T-girl with a callout post pedojackets me, Enby with TME in bio pedojackets me, T-boy with a self-deprecating joke about men in his bio pedojackets me.

I do another line of ketamine off the table, calling it stealing transfem valor.

I am at the woman’s clinic, I am at the woman’s clinic, I am at the woman’s clinic wearing a mask – not cause I’m compromised (I am), just to hide my beard – avoiding making everyone uncomfortable.

I am getting re-diagnosed with BPD, which just means I have bitch disorder and no one trusts me.

I take my pills and throw them up. I drink my liquor before the beer and throw them up.

I am just 14 when the picture and videos go up. Remind me that I have it easy, they were only pictures and videos.

I am just 17 when the recording of my proof stops before it happens, my phone memory is full, I’m called a liar and now I can’t see buttered crackers, thanksgiving, or sriracha sauce without wanting to kill myself.

No one gets me therapy, but they still want to convert me, she puts her hands down my pants, at least I’m 19, to remind me I’m a woman – tell me how they love trans men again.

I do a third line of ketamine off the table, realize it doesn’t effect me, calling it stealing transfem valor.

I call myself a dog, I start biting my lovers and I have to hold back from ripping out a chunk of flesh, I don’t think I’d throw it up.

I am reading the statistics, 40% of BPD patients try and kill themselves. 1 in 2 transgender men try and kill themselves. I’m one of them. I’m 12 and I swallowed all the pills. I’m 14 and the gun is empty. I’m 17 and I put the box-opener against my throat. Therapist calls me a liar, there is no scar, and my words don’t count for anything.

I’m using he/him pronouns for Stormé DeLarverie, like the stonewall veteran association said to, and telling you he started the riot, calling it stealing transfem valor from a woman who told you she didn’t fucking do it.

I’m shoving my fingers down my throat in a fit of mania, convinced I can vomit up my uterus. She tells me I should be grateful, she’d do anything to be able to get pregnant.

My brother in the struggle gets bottom surgery without top, calling it stealing transfem valor to feel comfortable in his body.

It’s 2024 and I’m at trans pride, the announcers tells everyone to give a round of applause for trans woman, a round of applause for gender-queers, a round of applause for transfems, a round of applause for the enbies, a round of applause for trans-masculine people. You forgot someone. Did you know a trans man started the first ever transgender pride parade?

A book on queer history talks about gay men and lesbians and trans women and the women who dressed as men for better job opportunities. I’m reminded that my invisibility is a privilege, if you aren’t seen you don’t get bashed.

I’m 13 and they throw me in the girls bathroom, pin me down, beat me, and in black sharpie write “dyke”, write “tranny”, write “lesbo”, and pull my hair out the cap I shoved it in.

I’m 19 with D cups that a binder can’t hide and a beard I refuse to shave less I break the mirror and kill myself with the shards of glass I would swallow.

Man at the bus stop calls me tranny and tells me I’ll never be a woman. I’d laugh if he didn’t have his hand on my throat. Calling it stealing transfem valor.

I’m 21 and have to pull a taser on him, cause from the back, even with short hair and top surgery, I look rape-able.

I’m 23 and in the gay district when they chase me down the street, calling me faggot.

Make another forcemasc post, calling it stealing transfem valor.

Read an article about a trans man prostitute that kills himself and ends up another female statistic.

Read an article about a trans man shooter, they blame the HRT he didn’t have access too.

Going to read a callout about me, five pages on Google Docs, does this post make it on the list?

Do a final line of ketamine, write the final line of a poem that makes me want to die, calling it stealing transfem valor.

I puke and miss the toilet.

[literaryavenger]

Happy Birthday

Summary: It's your birthday and the only person who doesn't seem to be excited about it is you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of death. Angst. Fluff. Language probably. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 2.5K

A/N: This story was completely self-indulgent, but I hope someone out there likes it!

Masterlist

You’ve always been very reluctant to celebrate your birthday.

You haven’t had a birthday party since you were 12. The following year your mom died a couple of days before and neither you nor your family were in the mood to celebrate anything.

It wasn’t by any means unexpected, she had been sick for a few years, but it still hit you hard.

You were the youngest and were far too young when she first got sick to really understand everything going on.

You were 8 and all you really remember is watching your mom get more and more sick until eventually there was nothing more the doctors could do.

Her death hit you hard and you closed yourself off, never talking about it or even crying after the day of her funeral. To this day you’ve still never cried, in front of others or even by yourself.

You started exercising to channel all your energy, refusing to do anything more like the therapy your family suggested. 

When you were 15 you discovered SHIELD and decided you wanted to help others, so you signed up for the SHIELD Academy, working your hardest and pushing yourself to your very limit.

You ended up being not only the youngest cadet ever, but the youngest to actually graduate and then the youngest recruit at SHIELD at only 16 years old.

Natasha was very impressed when she heard about you and took a liking to you, convincing Fury to make you part of her team during her missions and teaching you everything she knows.

That’s how you ended up in the Avengers Initiative, not that you felt you didn’t deserve it since you know how hard you worked and everything you gave up to work towards this achievement. 

The team themselves were initially skeptical since you were barely 18 during the battle of New York, but they were quickly proven wrong when they saw how well you handled yourself against the Chitauri. 

You were devastated when SHIELD fell, but carried on as an Avenger, battling Ultron and then moving to the Compound with the team.

You met the actual Bucky for the first time when you were 22, during the whole Civil War thing with Baron Zemo. Like Natasha, you were on Tony’s team, fighting mostly Pietro, but the conflict eventually ended. 

It took Tony some time to get over the whole “Bucky killing his parents while brainwashed” thing, but, as he likes to say, he can’t call himself a genius without admitting that Bucky didn’t have much of a choice. 

Thanks to Tony’s help Shuri was able to find a solution to Bucky’s brainwashing faster than she would’ve alone, meaning Bucky didn’t have to go back into cryo and was pretty quickly cleared to join the team, about a year after the airport battle in Leipzig.

You were warmly accepted by everybody and, the more the team grew the more you felt at home with these people.

And now you wish you could burn down the whole compound because, somehow, Tony convinced you to have a birthday party for the first time in 13 years because, in his words, 'you only turn 25 once'.

Good news is you managed to make him limit the guest list to the team and other people close to you like Maria Hill and Fury. Bad news is you’re still gonna be the center of attention, which you hate.

You couldn’t stop Tony from making everyone dress up for the party, and you couldn’t stop the team from getting you gifts even though you insisted all you wanted was everyone together and to have fun with them since for the longest time nobody ever even knew when your birthday was. 

What you didn’t realize was that the only person more worried than you about your gifts was Bucky.

Since he joined the team the two of you have gotten close, starting with his first training with the team where he very loudly told Steve about his disbelief that someone as young and small as you could actually be an asset to the team.

You quickly put him in his place by taking him down after less than two minutes of sparring, taking full advantage of his underestimating you because he “didn’t want to hurt a pretty little thing like you.”

Admittedly he was impressed and wasn’t shy about letting you know that, while the rest of the team snickered at his initial shock when you pinned him down.

You became friends after that, not as close as you’d like but friends nonetheless.

If you were honest with yourself you’ve been harboring a little crush on the supersoldier, but he’s never shown any interest so you resigned yourself to just being his friend.

Something that you did come to treasure, though, is your and Bucky’s late night talks.

It started with you walking in on him in the kitchen on a late night where you couldn’t sleep, nothing new to you, but the two of you barely talked other than acknowledging each other.

You took a bottle of water and left.

A couple of days later you ran into him again and you stood there in silence while you made yourself a cup of tea and then left for your room.

A few days later again he was just sitting there and said nothing as you made your tea, except this time you put a cup in front of him and silently took a seat next to him at the counter.

Two nights later when you arrived at the kitchen he was already there with a cup of tea in front of him and one in front of the seat next to him.

You didn’t want to assume it was for you, but you took a chance when you noticed it was the cup you always used, a blue mug with Stitch on it that says “Let’s get weird”. Your favorite in fact.

You hesitantly sat down next to him and, without you having to ask or without even looking at you, he told you that the nights you stay up late because you can’t sleep you tend to be more quiet during the team dinners and while you hang out afterwards.

You didn’t say anything in return and just sat there, trying not to overthink how much he seemed to watch you.

But the more nights you spent like that, the more you two talked and you gathered quickly that Bucky is a very observant person, nothing more.

You loved the time you spent together after dark where you’d talk about everything and anything, but come morning it was almost as if it never happened, which you came to accept.

It weirdly made the nights you spent talking even more special, which was almost every night.

But back to the present, you’re currently getting ready with Natasha and Wanda, who know much more than you about hair and makeup and are always happy to help you out with getting ready for Stark parties. 

You put on the black cocktail dress with rhinestones all over the corset and a slit down the left side, then the three of you make your way to the party room and you take a deep breath before entering.

Everyone is already there, all dressed up in fancy clothes as they all shout “Happy Birthday”.

You laugh and say hi to everybody while they all take turns hugging you, there’s not too many people but everyone important to you is there.

Even Laura and Clint’s kids are there, which you consider a second family at this point, since Laura always did treat you like a daughter.

You hate to admit that it's a nice party.

Knowing you, everyone makes an effort to not put you too much at the center of attention and you just go around talking to your friends like every other party.

Eventually time comes for the cake and, the moment you kind of dreaded, opening the gifts.

Since it's the first birthday you allowed the team to celebrate everyone decided to go all in for your gifts, which you picked up on from the very first gift you open.

Pietro got you a first edition of “The Picture Of Dorian Gray” which is your all time favorite book, Wanda and Maria got you a leather jacket and an amazing pair of boots that you knew were expensive because you were all out shopping together when you came across them.

Steve got you a gold heart-shaped locker with a picture of the team inside it, Natasha got you a charm bracelet with a little charm to represent everyone on the team, and Sam got you a cute necklace with your birth stone on it.

When you open Fury’s gift you start laughing since it's a gun, a SIG SAUER P226 to be precise, which is very Fury.

“It was my first gun when I joined SHIELD.” He says with a smile and you smile back, knowing how much thought he put into this gift.

You open Clint’s gift next, a bow and arrow that he already taught you how to use, and Laura got you a pair of diamond earrings.

Your heart melts when you open Lila, Cooper and Nathaniel’s gifts, respectively a friendship bracelet, an Avengers action figure of yourself and a Stitch plushie.

The three of them hug you tightly as you say thank you and now you only have two gifts left, Tony’s and Bucky’s, and they’re both little boxes. 

You open Tony’s next, thinking it’s some fancy necklace or earring but you frown when you see a car key.

“Is this the key to your car?” you ask Tony, knowing full well you’re holding the key to an Audi R8 Spyder, the car Tony’s let you borrow so many times you’re now wondering if he’s gifting you his spare set of keys.

“No.” He says casually “It’s the key to your car.”

You’re even more confused and simply stare at him with your mouth gaped, not really processing the information.

“Y-you… You got me a car?!” You almost yell out of shock and everyone else starts laughing at your antics when you start basically jumping up and down and hugging Tony, squealing like a little girl.

“Well, come on, let’s go see it!” Tony says enthusiastically after you’ve calmed down, and you get up, just as enthusiastic, but are stopped by Steve’s voice.

“Wait, wait. You have one gift left.” He says, picking up the small box and giving it to you. “It’s from Bucky.”

You were so pumped up by the car, you almost forgot about it and completely miss the mischievous look Steve gives Bucky and the murderous glare Bucky gives back.

You also miss Bucky starting to protest before you open his gift, but he instantly shuts up when he sees your face falling the second you open it.

It’s a small necklace with a blue rose in it, it really looks like something you’d give a little girl more than a 25 year old woman.

You look at it for a minute, running your finger on it before you raise your head and look at Bucky.

The whole room goes silent as they all watch you worriedly, everyone noticing immediately that tears are streaming down your face.

Nobody understands what’s happening and nobody knows how to react or what to do, it’s like they’re all frozen by the sight of you being vulnerable for the first time ever. 

Meanwhile Bucky’s heart is beating so loud he’s sure everyone around him can hear it, and he feels himself starting to panic at the thought of having ruined your birthday with that stupid gift.

Everybody else got you expensive gifts and all he did was get you a small, cheap necklace that reminded him of a story you briefly talked about once on one of your late night talks about a necklace you had as a kid.

He saw it at the mall while looking for a gift for you, remembering the sweet smile you had on your face when you mentioned it and the fleeting sad look he thought he saw when you told him you lost it when you were 12.

He was really proud of himself for that gift, but the more he saw the other gifts you got the more he regretted his choice, especially after Tony gave you a fucking car.

And now you were crying, not saying anything while just looking at him.

He doesn’t know what to expect from you at the moment, nobody does, he thinks you might yell, throw his gift back at him, tell him how much you hate it and him.

But you surprise everyone by throwing your arms around Bucky’s neck, hugging him tightly while crying into his shoulder.

You honestly forgot telling Bucky about that story and certainly didn’t expect him to remember it, especially since you always got the feeling that he didn’t care about your talks as much as you.

You just assumed that come morning he deleted everything you told him to make room for more important things, and you didn’t blame him.

But he didn’t.

What you didn’t tell him about the necklace is that your mom gave it to you because blue roses were her favorite, you had that necklace since you were born but you somehow lost it the day of her funeral.

That day you lost the two most important things in your life and cried yourself to sleep, and that was the last time you allowed yourself to be weak and cry.

Until today.

Bucky hesitantly wraps his arms around you, rubbing your back hoping to get you to calm down. He looks around at the rest of the team, panicking a little and not knowing what to do.

Everyone else is as clueless as he is, never having seen you in such a state before.

Bucky starts apologizing, his heart breaking at the sight of you crying, and he feels horrible that it’s because of him.

You shake your head quickly and pull away a little to look at him, wanting to reassure him you’re not sad or angry but incredibly happy, but words refuse to come. You take a deep breath to calm yourself and finally manage to speak.

“Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me.” It’s quiet, but it’s something, and it’s enough to make Bucky let out a breath of relief at knowing you don’t hate him or his gift.

He brings you back in for another tight hug, almost forgetting about everyone else in the room as you hug him back without hesitation.

You’re honestly not even embarrassed at crying, all you care about at the moment is Bucky, his arms around you while he lets you bury your face in his neck, like you’ve been wanting to do for years now.

“Happy birthday, doll.” He whispers in your ear and, for the first time in 13 years, you really feel like it is.

[spacebaby1]

Rindou Haitani's Girlfriend

Ran might get himself a girl that matches his freak on napping for 11 hours, but Rindou will absolutely get the humorous girlfriend.

The first time he met you was in 🎀police station 🎀he was 12 and had just gotten arrested with his brother Ran, who was 13 then. You sat with the handcuffs on, kicking your feet looking around and being so calm it made him question how the hell were you so calm. You just turned 12, and it was a day before your birthday party. The moment you noticed the as the police officer let him and ran sit on one of the chairs opposite from you, you waved at him with a smile. The officer went to write the report, and you got up from your chair and walked to sit next to them. "Nice hair!" You told Ran, "That's not a wig, right?" Ran laughed, shaking his head, and Rin rolled his eyes at you. "Why are a kid like you doing here?" Rin asked, "Oh, I just wanted to know how handcuffs feel like that's why I busted the cops car window to get arrested." You said with a smile, "No shit, are you crazy?" Ran laughed. "Aren't you too little to be arrested?" Rin asked, and you shrugged, "I'm twelve, I'm actually twelve tomorrow and I'm having a birthday party, hey, wanna come to my birthday party?" You told Rin with a soft smile. He felt his cheeks burn, and then you turned to look at Ran, "if you want, I'll write you the address." Ran just laughed, "you're one crazy girl. Happy birthday, by the way." Rin sighed, "Happy birthday, whatever." You laughed, "Aww, thank you, I'm Y/n!" Ran turned his side to face you now because he thought you were interesting, "I'm Ran, and this is Rindou. My baby brother." You smiled in an aww. That was the last time Rin saw you.

Five years later; he saw you again. Rin had just gotten some serious job done and was heading back home, walking under the cold nights with snow all over the streets. His eyes on his phone screen; reading an email Ran sent him when someone sprinted past him. He didn't bother to look until he heard the footsteps stop, and someone called out his name, made him almost jump. "RINRIN?" He turned back ready to attack whoever called him with hands in front of him and his heart almost stopped when he saw a girl, no, he saw you waving as you ran towards him happily? You caught your breath as you stopped in front of him, titling your head to side, "it's me! Y/n! Remember me the girl from the police station? Oh, that's funny to say." He blinked a few times before speaking and looking at your clothes that were not warm at all. You were dressed in a white shirt and baggy jeans with a weird hat that looked too big for your head. "Yeah, I remember you. You weirdo, why are you dressed like that in the middle of December? Are you trying to die?" He asked, rolling his eyes as he took his heavy sweater off and threw it over you. Making you laugh as you removed the sweater from your head, revelling your smile that made his breath hitch. "I'm jogging trying to run a mile and trying to find out if I can define the cold." He sighed, taking his sweater from your hand and putting your hands in it, then the other, "Yeah, define the devil when you die from cold and get thrown in hell." You laughed at his words. You looked behind him, "Where's your brother? Does he still have his long hair? Wait, your hair kinda looks cool!" Rin rolled his eyes, "you still remember him too. You shouldn't be out at this time of night all alone. You don't know what type of people are out here." You shrugged, taking your phone out and snatched his from his hand, "I'll save my number in your phone, here call me so I can save yours." You handed him the phone and waited for him to call. He looked at him phone then back at you and called. Your face lights up when your phone rang, and you waved it at him with a giggle, "I'll see you soon. Bye bye" you said before walking the other way.

Rin would lie if he said he didn't wait a whole day for you to call. He kept checking his phone every other minute. It's been a whole day now, and you still haven't called. Maybe you didn't care. It was around 12 at night when his phone rang. He picked it up without looking at the name, "RIN RIN!" He sat from where he was sleeping on the bed. "Y/n?" You laughed at his question, "Duh, who else would it be?" He tried to hide his stupid smile even if you weren't there to see it, "Why you calling me this late?" He tried to sound annoyed, but you laughed again. "I couldn't sleep, saw a really scary movie now I'm regretting life and I can't even get up to pee what if the lady with white dress attacks me in the bathroom?" He chuckled at your words rolling his eyes. "And you want me to do what?" He replied. "Stay on the phone with me until I fall asleep!" You replied excitement in your voice, and he felt his face burning; don't couple do these kinds of things? He thought. Nevertheless, he didn't mind staying on the call as you rambled about random things. He could hear you trying hard to stay awake by the time it was 3 in the morning so he decided to be the one talking as you just replied in a hum, he talked in a low voice until he heard you snoring softly on the other side of the call. He chuckled, "idiot. Sleep well." He whispered before putting his phone beside him still on the call.

When you decided to return his sweater, he "forgot" to tell Ran that you were coming honestly he kept asking Ran if he has to be somewhere so when you'll arrive you won't see Ran. Rin wasn't jealous. He's just Rin. Ran heard the bell rang and went to answer the door, "Yes?" He asked when he saw you; at first, he didn't recognise you until you smiled, throwing your hands open, "Ran!" His eyes widened, and he smiled, "Oh shit, it's my favourite prisoner! Come here. " He pulled you up in a hug, and you laughed, "Oh, look at you all grown up. How did you?-, wait, RIN? Y/N IS HERE!" Rin tried to act unbothered when he saw his brother wrap you in a hug, "I met Rin last week, and I came by to return his sweater." Ran looked at his brother, wiggling his brows as you walked behind Ran, Rin rolled his eyes, "she was jogging in a shirt and jeans, " Rin stated. You handed him the bag that had his sweater, and it smelled like you. "So Rin has been gatekeeping you from me? And look at you, you look so beautiful now. You've grown so much!" Ran said, holding your hands as he sat on the couch, and you were standing in front of him. He nodded with a smile, "Your hair changed. It's black here. Looks so cool." You said pointing at his hair, "thanks Gorgeous." You snorted at his compliment, "stawppp, you're making me blush." Ran pulled you to the couch beside him, "come sit with me. How have you been?wow, I can't believe you look so beautiful." Rin groaned, "you said that like a million times since she got here. It's been a minute." You laughed at the two brothers. Ran pinched your cheek, "No more jail, ha?" You shook your head freeing yourself from his grip. "No, sir." You said. Rin watched from where he stood at you talking with his brother. He wanted you to talk to him and sit this close to him.

You'd often run into each other on your way, and you'd always cling to Rin's arm, and he really didn't get bothered by it.

Late night calls were a regular thing. Rin would always wait for you to call him and ramble.

Until one night, you didn't call, nor has he seen you for two days in a row. He was working on a file when the bell ran at 1 am, he thoughts it's probably some random person that will go away ringing the bell on a rainy night but it ran again and he was ready to deal with whoever it was flinging the door open just when he was about to shout. Rin's heart dropped at the sight of you in tears, and you looked distressed as you hugged him crying. He's never seen you cry, and his mind went blank the moment he saw you crying and a small bruise on your lip immediately anger filled his eyes as he shut the door moving you in with him. "Who did this to you?" He asked, and you cried, "my boyfriend hit me." Let's just say that "boyfriend" now ex, apparently lost an arm the next day.

That night, Rin didn't let you leave his sight as he made you change into much comfortable pyjamas of his that looked way too big on you. He even dried your hair after the shower. You were tired, so he let you sleep in his bed, covering you with all his soft blankets as he went back to grab his laptop to work on a file. He sat beside the bed working when you moved in your sleep, brows frowned, he placed his hand on yours hushing you softly and You grabbed his hand in sleep pulling it closer to your heart. Rin's eyes widened, and he flustered, but he also knew you probably needed comfort after whatever you bo-ex did.

Rin didn't want you to leave him or the house when you can be here, safe. And you got used to his care that you just clung on him EVERYWHERE he went; he really didn't mind. It took you a few days to go back to your normal self, joking around and making Rin smile at your words, but it KILLED him every time he'd see that scar under your mouth. He wanted to KILL your ex, but you've long moved on.

You two didn't even make it official that you two liked each other it just happened. None of you asked the other if you'd date each other, but Rin would break anyone's hand if they even looked at you.

One day, you were liying on his lap on the couch watching TV, and you turned to look at him, "Are you my boyfriend?" You asked, making his face turn different shades of red, but he tried to look confident and looked down at you, "Yes?" That came out shaky. You nodded and went back to watching the TV only to get off his lap and cuddle his arm beside him; oh, you loved holding his arm and placing your face on his shoulder. You'd find different positions to sit near him, and each one never fails to surprise him. You got up and sat on his lap, wrapping your arms around his middle part and snuggling into him or you'd sit upside down on the couch beside him to which he always grabs you and pulls you on his lap with your head on his chest. "Hushh, sit still. I'm trying to watch this." You'll always fall asleep in his arms he's just that comfortable to you.

You have to hug his arms every time you sleep. And he just stares at you with a smile, glad that he saw you that day in the police station.

He's only soft for you and does everything you want and deserve, which is not much because you barely ask him anything other than his skilled cooking.

You are dear to him.

[multific]

Maybe In Another Life

King Baldwin IV x Reader

Warnings: Mention of smut, Illness, Mourning, Death

Summary: A short piece about a King who was doomed to die early and his Queen.

You were promised to him before either of you were even born.

You were married by the time you were 13. He was 14 years old.

And you loved him.

You loved how smart he was. How gentle and kind he was. 

Your love for him started when you began to grow older, you got used to one another.

You loved him.

Then, he started to get more and more sick. It scared you. The thought of losing him petrified you.

You tried to ignore his illness, you tried to act as if everything was fine. But you couldn't hide it for long. 

He was a strong soul, but his body was weak. 

You remember the night of your wedding when you had to consummate your marriage. It was a night you would never forget.

It was the first time you laid with him. It was the first time you felt truly loved. 

Even if you wanted to, tried to, there was only ever one time when he gave himself to you. 

You seduced him, not giving him an option, you laid in his bed, bare and presented yourself to him. It was his 16th day of birth before his illness got worse.

He began to wear the mask, never letting anyone touch him.

You loved him, it was simple yet complicated.

But you knew he loved you. 

His actions showed it to you. 

The garden he built just for you, was grand and gorgeous.

"Just like you, My Wife." he would say. "This garden will be the proof of my love for you and of your beauty for the upcoming centuries." 

How he loved your smile. 

But then, you were sitting next to him as he was taking his last breaths. Your tears falling, you couldn't control them.

"I will miss you greatly." you said as he moved his hand and allowed you to take it.

One last touch.

"I love you," he said and you smiled, allowing him to see it right as he died.

You took a deep breath and placed a kiss on his mask. 

"I love you too." you said as you broke down sobbing. 

You visited his grave daily.

In the beginning, you didn't even leave it for days.

They will crown a new King, and people will move on, but not you. 

Barely a year passed and you were lost. You had nothing and no one to live for.

You still visited your husband's grave daily, hoping he would wake up, hoping he would come back to you, but he never did.

Your mourning caused you to become sick.

In the hopes of joining your husband in the afterlife, you prayed and begged for death until the day it finally took you.

You joined him in death as you wished.

The wife of King Baldwin IV was placed to rest next to him, your rightful place, right by his side. 

Maybe in another life, you two would meet again, hopefully, that time it will be right. 

----

They say you don't remember your past life, but the feeling stays with you.

It is why a person who you know you have not met, might feel familiar. In a past life, you might have known them.

Then, there are people who claim to remember their past life. Who say they found their true love once again.

You used to laugh at those people.

But not today.

Not when you couldn't look away from him.

He stood right across the other side of the street. Occasionally, cars obstructed your view, but he was there.

With each passing car, you feared he would disappear.

But he didn't.

His eyes were glued to yours.

A familiar feeling flooded you, you knew him but you never met him.

You would remember such a handsome face, he was tall, lean yet built, dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt. Nothing spectacular.

But he looked amazing in your eyes.

Soon, he crossed the road, and you felt your heartbeat pick up.

You didn't move as he walked closer to you.

He was even taller up close.

"My Wife." he said and it felt so right.

You have never seen this man in your life. And yet, you remembered him.

"My King." you said as tears fell from your eyes.

"I remember learning about you in history class. The Mourning Queen of the Leper King." he stepped closer, lifting his hand to your cheek, and you smiled.

"I told you before, I couldn't possibly live without you." he smiled as you leaned closer, grabbing his shirt to pull him down.

And now, you could kiss him freely.

Your past was filled with love and pain. You both will make sure that this life will be a happy one.

You both pulled away from the kiss and spoke in sync.

"I love you."

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @groovyqueer @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, OR TO STEAL ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[v1x3n]

⸝⸝ ꒰ BROTHERS BESTFRIEND ⁞ ˎˊ˗

simon 'ghost' riley ⸝⸝ navigation

୨୧ 𝘴𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 : hes your brothers best friend and a friend you've known since the three of you were children, you could class him as family. so the place he chose when he needed somewhere to stay was of course your place.

୨୧ 𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 : angst, fluff, smut - longtime crush, regret, dry humping, praise, degrading words, cumming inside.

You were 10 when your brother, Jack, invited his best friend over. He was 13. It just so happened that every other day he would come over, hang out with your brother and talk a little with you. Soon you began to gain a little crush on him, but he was your brother's best friend - ofc you couldn't do anything. Plus he was older than you, at the time even 3 years apart seemed like a million. Maybe when you're older?

Growing up with your brother and his best friend constantly around you, causing Simon to be classed as ‘family’. So when he needed a place to stay after a 3 month mission, your family let him in instantly. Meaning he would live with you until his next mission - hopefully he wouldn't be as annoying as he was when he was younger. You hadn't seen him for maybe a few years after he joined the military - 3 years at least. At least your brother and him still talked so there was some sort of contact.

Knock knock knock

The door. Without thinking you stand yourself up and head to the door. You knew it was Simon and you wanted to greet him kindly. Perhaps he was still fit - ofc you would wanna be nice looking and get dressed up all cute for your old crush, definitely if he was fit. Almost sprinting to the door whilst sorting out your outfit, trying to make yourself look more presentable. Just so he doesn't think you're a scruff or anything of the sort.

"Hi!" cheerily greeting him as you fling open the door.

He retorted with a small nod and a grunt - as if he was telling you hello back. Swiftly shuffling out of the way to let him through, you couldn't help but feel like he was avoiding you. You watched him walk away, a puzzled look plastered on your face.

Entering the kitchen - leading the once known man along with you. "Tea?" murmuring trying to get away from this very awkward situation. Simon gives a slight nod, still not spilling words from his mouth. An uncomfortable atmosphere fills the space around you as you make his tea, grabbing one of your brothers' mugs, pouring the heated water into the cup. "Your brother around?" he hums, finally speaking up. A quick shake of the head comes from your person as he looks over at you mixing his tea bag into the water. One fast, clean swoop - passing the mug over to Simon as he looks into it, almost checking if it's good enough then he nods at it. “At work.”

Taking a small taste test of it as you lean against the counter, glaring into his eyes as he sips on the tea you had made for him. He smiles at you, a warm but slight one, before taking another sip of his tea. Gazing into his eyes and finally checking him out, head to toe.

You could tell he had just come from battle, war, revenge, just by how he was dressed. Grey sweater with his camo army pants, his vest and his big puffy black boots. Stained in blood, mud and gravel. A haze of red rushes to your cheeks as he speaks up. "like what you see or what?" grumbling with an obvious grin smelted onto his lips, under his Black, skull printed balaclava whilst he catches onto your eyes peeking at his body - lingering for more than his liking. "Oh sorry. i..i was just uh." trembling through your words as you search for an excuse.

"I was just joking, god you haven't changed a bit" he slightly laughed, your face burning through with embarrassment.

"Say yourself, you're still the cold, sarcastic little shit you were years ago." retorting back at him as you start to giggle as well. Simon stops himself from laughing more whilst holding the mug, making sure he won't drop it. "Well," he chuckles. "But at least I don't get all nervous and blush from silly, small things." Your two's banter had gone on for years, since you had met. That's probably the main reason you're so close - and the reason you fell for him whilst you were a dumb child. You both share a knowing look, and then start laughing again.

"Heard you're a lieutenant now?" you question, full well knowing the answer because your brother had told you. He gives a miniscule nod, still sipping on the tea that was almost empty now. A small smile on your face burned from the joke fight a minute ago.

Simon was never a talker. Yeah, he would piss around a bit, but still not much speaking. He would whip up some snide or mocking response in a flash if he wanted to - but most of the time he wouldn't bother. You knew Simon and you knew what he was like. So seeing him this quiet was normal - even though you were used to having a mad, loud life. Simon would only really banter with close mates, mates he had been with for a long time. It wasn't a surprise he was like this with you then, you know years of pissing each other off to mockery to small lil crushes almost made you more than just a mate he had known for a very long time.

You take a deep breath and continue with the conversation. "Anyways," biting your lip subtly while stretching and standing back up - grasping his cup away from him. The once filled mug was now just cold leftovers from the tea - pushing it from the counter and into the sink, ready to wash later. "I'll go show you your room, yeah?" without even waiting for a reply you scatter off down the hall. Eagerly following you down, up the stairs then back down another overly long corridor: then there it was, Simon's new room.

The room was plain, with a few pictures on the wall, a nice king-sized bed with soft, plush bedding. A small desk with a few documents scattered on the top of it, across was a wardrobe - filled with some guest clothes, PJs, towels and a robe. Stuff like that. There were some shirts he had guessed you had bought specially for him - seeing the size of them.

Not like he was fat or anything but you cannot say Simon wasn't a big guy - he was excessively muscular and quite tall. Tall enough that you had to almost strain your neck to look up at him properly.

"Here," you added, passing him a towel that you had picked up from the bed.

A quick glance gets chucked at you and he greatly accepts it into his arms, "bathrooms just next door and clothes are in the wardrobe."

"I stink that much?" He already snickers, removing his jacket from his person as he does so. You scoff. Almost instinctive too.

"you're alright, just don't want you going around spreading blood and dirt round the house. i don't think my parents would like that." He rolls his eyes and smirks at you. "Yeah, yeah." He steps out of the bedroom leaving his filthy jacket behind. "Your brother told me your parents are away for a bit?"

Your parents had left for some work thing for a few months - leaving you and your brother at home alone. At least now Simons is here you could have some more fun.

"gone for the next two months." you reply from his bedroom, chatting while he turns the shower on. You neatly fold up his dirty jacket and take a slight huff.

Around an hour goes by, lying down in your bedroom - scrolling endlessly through your phone as Simon stays in the shower. Thuds. Loud foot-slamming thuds blast from the bathroom. Pull yourself up and out of bed to check on Simon just to see him with just a towel on his bare body, the towel slowly descending down his hips. Peeking down at his pelvis as crimson rushes to your eyes, you swiftly glance back up to see his smug face gazing down at you.

"You good?" the man before you pondered, staring down at you as your eyes hovered around his damp body.

"Yeh, fine." you mumble, averting your eyes. "Jacks not back until late tonight, works keepin him behind so I'll just order someit" you added, your voice barely audible.

He nods, swiftly and heavily - great you were stuck with him for a few more hours seeing as your brother was busy. Sighing when you move away from him, back to your room to order some food. You couldn't get the image of Simon out of your head. His naked person, water dripping from his hair. His chiselled and smooth face. Plump lips that would just be great to kiss. Bet he would be a sloppy kisser, especially when drunk. God can imagine. With his glistening brown eyes that had seen more things than anyone could ever think of, you could tell his story, his life through his pupils. You loved his soft, flowy hair - it was the perfect length that showed off his sharp but still soft jawline. Dirty blonde colour that you would actually just die for. It just suits his fine hairstyle.

Let's not even talk about his body. Shit his sexy ass body. His perfect waist. God he looked slutty. You could see the outline of his cock through the towel. Aaaa. Thinking about it makes you wet. The towel was slanted so you could see his nice hips. It felt for your eyes only, as if he had done it for you. His muscles are just flawless - not too chiselled so it's not rock solid, but not too soft so there's still an outline. His alluring pecs, they looked as soft as a marshmallow. You need to get your hands on them instantly. knead them, give them seductive, black and dark purple bruises, lick his pretty ass nipples. Maybe you shouldn't be thinking about this.

Fuck did you still like him? Pack it in honestly! He's your brother's best friend, plus it wouldn't be like Simon was attracted to you. You weren't his type. Now that you think of it you don't recall Simon ever mentioning a girlfriend or crush or anything of the type. Has he ever had a girlfriend? I mean there's nothing to disapprove of when it comes to him. He was sweet when needed, sarcastic, funny, hot, fit, cute, cold. However, you don't mean a mean cold. You mean a sexy, mysterious, snarky, controlling cold. If he wanted you too, you would bend over for him and let him take control - do whatever he wanted. That's just the type of person you wanted and it was lucky you had someone who seemed like that type naked right now in your house. Fuckkkkkk. Were you starting to recatch feelings again? Maybe you're just needy and need to get laid.

With an irruption the thoughts hault as you hear Simon, “is there eh.. anything I could do? Chores or whatever?” he asks with a certain nervousness in his voice. You didn't quite catch exactly what he said with your head half still in the clouds.

“what? No no. "you're a guest it's not your place” sweetly laughing at his ridiculous ask. A subtle ‘oh’ sound pours from his lips. You stare up at him - making quite uncomfortable eye contact with him as he sighs in and out and walks towards the living room. “You sure? I wouldn't mind.” His rough accent formed out through his lush words. It was hard to tell whether you thought he was cute or not.

"Oi" you warm him when you see him picking up some rubbish and putting it into the bin, pointing your finger at him as if to tell him off while following him into the living room. As you see him sitting on the couch you continue, "shut it, it's fine.” sighing softly when you sit beside him.

Soon you two began to talk a little - carrying on your banter from before as a shitty TV show sounds in front of you. Throwing harmless insults side to side to each other as it starts to get more physical - jokingly hitting each other, pushing and messing with each other's hair and now this… Simon was chuckling and pushing you over onto the cushions to then tower over you - pinning you to the couch. "Hey!" you howl as he grips onto your arms to keep you down. Grimacing as he snickers above you, almost mocking your tiny body with his. He lingers there for way too long, staring down into your eyes - his contact deciding whether to look into your eyes or those distracting lips of yours. Then he chooses; his glaze loiters over your cherry lips as he leans more into you. The sensation of his scent fills your nose as he gets closer, blocking the space that divides you two. "S-simon?" whispering your answer to him while he gets way too into your space.

That was enough of a sign for him to make his move. And before you can resist, He closes the gap between you, his lips find yours, claiming them in a passionate kiss. It feels surreal and wrong, but part of you can't help but be swept up in the moment. The moment felt electric as your tongues met in a sensual way. Your heart is beating faster and faster. You can feel your body melt into his, all traces of thought and logic vanishing amidst the heat of the moment.

He grabs onto the side of your waist and calmly smooths it out as he increases his kiss, stopping every few 30 seconds to breathe. "Wait!" you burst out and push him away from you. He breathes heavily - catching his breath as you scoot yourself to the end of the couch. Swiftly picking yourself up and exiting the room that now forever holds that memory. Simon was left confused and dazed. You were sloppily kissing him one second then you had just picked yourself up and left him; not saying anything about it.

Emotions of confusion to lust to anger to sadness flood your mind as you figure out what the fuck had happened. I mean it wasn't like you didn't like him but you liked the kiss. But that's normal right? Liking the kiss? It didn't mean you liked him. You had told yourself for years so you had told yourself again: you cannot like him. He's your brother's BEST mate. There's no way your brother wouldn't stab you if he found out you were even thinking about Simon like this. Making your way to the bathroom floor - the slick cool floor so you can just slide onto and rethink your entire life. You sit there with your head in your hands, trying to make sense of the feelings you were feeling. Sighing as you fight with your inner self.

It wasn't like you hadn't kissed before though. It was after parties a lot- both of you were hammered and in each other's company and then it would just kinda happen. The warmth of his lips were always on your mind, after the amount of times you two had kissed it was almost like his plump lips were imprinted onto yours. You could draw them with your eyes closed almost. "This is wrong," you whisper to yourself, "this is wrong." But it felt so right. The feeling of Simon's lips on yours, the way his body pressed up against yours like a perfect fit, and the way he looked at you with those irresistible deep brown eyes.

“y/n?” a rough voice sounded from the room behind the bathroom door, scared to even answer at the act you had just pulled.

“‘M sorry si.” whispering so he can just barely hear you.

He then pops open the door to see you were on the floor and hiding yourself from the world almost. "Love? You got all upset?" isn't wasn't really a question - more of a statement.

You had kissed him and then left him. Maybe you should at least give him an explanation?

“It's- it's just I can't…

Your Jack's best friend man, and- and it's wrong. You're one of my mates for fuck's sake.” Whimpering kinda through your words, looking up at him with your nearly pricked eyes.

“Maybe we should yk… not do this.” Your words slip out as you regret the thoughts spewing out of you.

Without another word, you two had lived out the rest of the day in silence - not talking about the situation nor anything in general. It was weird, almost eerie how quiet the house was. Faint blasts of media when either of you switched on a TV or your phones but other than that no sound came from your mouths. Jack still hasn't come home, god his shifts were ages.

It was awkward- too fucking awkward. You two had sat down on the couch, put on some TV show you both enjoyed and ate your takeaway. All you wanted was a big fat burger more than anything and maybe to unsay everything that happened a few hours ago. It was a fucking mistake to kiss him then.

“Simon” a small voice creeps out of your mouth, barely audible. His head swings in your direction, so fast he could actually break his neck. God it was too embarrassing to bring up before, “your food alright?” fuck why the shit did you say that?

“Yeh. Fine." Fuck, you were fucked. Holy shit. The air was dead silent, it was pure threatening. You knew you had upset him. He didn't show his emotions tons but you knew you had. You almost felt like you were in the eye of the storm. Not a word is spoken and the air is thick with tension.“Good, good” your tone progressively gets quieter the more you talk. "Listen" words get cut off by the blast of the door opening. The sounds of stomping follow through the hall and into the living room.

“Oh Simon!" Jack almost squeals out.

Simon looks at Jack with his heart pounding in his throat. Jack looks back and smiles, seemingly unaware of the tension in the room. He ruffles Simon's hair and grabs the extra bags from the takeaway, snacking on them as he settles down in his chair. The air is thick and unbearable. You try to act calm and casual, but your nerves are getting the best of him. Your leg is bouncing off the floor like crazy, bounce bounce bounce - over and over until Simon lays his hand on your knee. “Pack that in."

“Ooooo, Simon!" Jack laughs as he smirks at you two, “you better not be touching up my sister.” He chuckles once more, as if he didn't know the obvious sexual tension in the room as his hand touched you. You wanted his hands to touch elsewhere but you had fucked up. The pooling puddle of guilt only increasing with time just made it worse, the little voice in your head chanting ‘simon, simon, simon’. JUST SHUT UP!

“I wouldn't go anywhere near her '' Simon laughed it off as if he wasn't on you a few hours ago. You feel your heart sink and a wave of embarrassment wash over you. You try to force a smile but your face feels numb. You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart and ease the tension in the room. You take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. You force yourself to make eye contact, hoping you look confident and composed. You take a deep breath and attempt to speak up. "oi twat," you speak to Jack while pushing Simons hand that was still on your knee away, "work alr'ght?"

"what yous been up too?" jack smiles over at you.

"Oh uhm," a blush spreads across your cheeks when you remember the kiss you and Simon had shared on this same couch a few hours ago. "Just watching uh tv" you smile to try to make yourself seem less suspicious. “Oh well, I'm goin’ to bed” Jack states and then moves away from the living room to his bedroom. Leaving you and him alone once again.

“You didn't need to lie." His eyebrows knit softly, and he looked at you in a way that indicated there was more on his mind.

“Way what else was I meant to say? That we made out on the sofa, his best friend and his sister, then i ran off cause im too much of a fucking pussy because the person i like finally kissed me and i was scared?!”

He sighs out loud, then shakes his head in his hands, “you like me?” Simon's breath hitched in his chest. He didn't hide the colour that crept into his cheeks, his eyes searching for yours as he breathed in and out - trying to process everything. As his eyes looked at yours, yours were glued shut. Trying to block everything out.

“N-no.. I- it just came out. I didn't mean like- like that." Your body stiffened. His nostrils flared as he took an uneasy breath, his expression turning sour. He cleared his throat once and took a slow breath. "Good." Simon muttered. His voice was cold as he looked away.

“Good? Why's that good?” Your scoff becomes almost deadly when you hear his mumbles that he obviously didn't intend on you hearing.

He glares at you, knives being thrown at you through his firing pupils. “Wouldn't wan’ get into that” simple but saddening answer. Your eyes mould shut and you sigh at him.

“Whatever” you set yourself up and start to step off, away from the scene - once again. "Fine, pussy off again" He's trying not to show how pissed off he is, but it bleeds through every syllable.

“What the fuck?” Your eyes squinted as if you were trying to see him. Stomping towards him, your footsteps create thunder and lightning with every step forward. Getting himself up and then backs up and glares at you with that dead expression he had only used on the pricks he met. “Why are you acting like this?”

“Why are you leaving again?”

Letting out a harsh sigh as a response, you stop in front of him as if defeated.

“Cause we fucking kissed!” you shout at him, pushing him from his chest but he doesn't budge, the tears calmly falling from your tear ducts, calmly despite how fucking angry you are, “and maybe i like you but im just some fucking toy for you!” your voice quieting while the tears cloud your mouth. The salt seasoned your tongue. Simon groans. "It's complicated love.” His voice has taken on that husky tone that sends wet heat straight to your core even though all you wanted to do was fucking kill him right now. "You are not a toy to me, your- it's-''

“It's fine Simon, I understand."Mumbling and whispering your answers.

“No you don't. Even I don't even fucking understand. You're amazing but I'd fucken ruin you doll. ‘M not right for you. Love, you need to move on.” He said, sputtering, like he didn't want this to happen. You could sense a hint of sorrow hidden in his eyes.

“I DON'T WANNA. I WANT YOU!” finally shouting at him, to knock it into his head. Not caring if your brother hears your desperate words anymore. You could see him fighting against anger. He was trying hard to control his anger in order to respond calmly. In the end, he couldn't hold back and barked at you. “Love. Fucks sake” he cursed under his breath, the words wrought with exasperation and longing.

The details melted from your brain, like you fought and now you two were on the couch - the place you two had been earlier that day, kissing once again. You positioned yourself atop him, feeling his hands curve around your waist as his grip intensified. Your body pressed firmly against him, enhancing the closeness of the intimate embrace. The kiss was deep - almost smothering you with his lips. The groans that fall from his mouth to yours echo through you both could make your little cunt throb. But instead of your cunt throbbing, his cock does instead. The tight tent growing under you, the sensation pushing up against your pussy, the gentle, sweet moans that drip from your lips only create an even smaller free space in his boxers.

He presses his lips to yours after slipping his tongue out of your mouth, a small peck on your lips and then releases you. Simon's heavy breathing mixed with his blush filled face made your wet spot glow. “This - is this alright?" you nervously whispered into his ear to check up on him. Simon pulled back so you two were not in each other's face to catch his breath before leaning back in and kissing you more. It’s deep and passionate, a lot of feelings built up inside him for you, and it was all being unleashed through his actions and kisses. The length underneath you being unable to leave your head, your mind running with lewd thoughts. As if you were sleepwalking or something but as soon as you thought about riding his girthy, thick, hard length it was almost magically your cunt started dragging against his size, humping his pathetically rock hard cock.

The kissing stops as he lets out a short whimper before pulling you back in for a rough kiss, almost eating your face off. Like he needed you so fucking badly, like he had wanted this for hundreds of years. Like a hungry lion when meeting any piece of meat near. Dangerously gripping onto your hips and helping you through your grinding. He knew it would be pathetic if he came from this, no actual contact- it was just you humping his hard on through layers of clothes but he was close. The heat from both your bodies combined with your passionate, deadly kissing and then on top of that the grinding, it's all intoxicating to him.

As your breaths synchronise and the space in between you grows as he leans back against the couch, letting you do whatever - surrendering to your touch.

His head gets launched back and a groan falls from his mouth when you grind faster as your hands trail up your body and lift the fabric over your head. The shirt drops to the floor as he aws at your chest, the plump skin that flows above your pretty yet basic bra. “So fucken pretty" he groans into your breasts and kisses the fat.

His hands comfortably lay on your thighs, squeezing the fat and gleaming his smile up at you. His mind is hypnotized by your perfect body, the way your body curves at the right place, soft skin and fuck your sensitive spots. Could almost finish with the way you moan when he grabs onto a sensitive spot. His gaze lingered on your figure. The only thing that snapped him back was when your voice reached his ears. "This okay si?”

“More than okay darling.” He smiles sweetly up at you, "You okay with more?”

Swiftly you nod at him, ready to take anything. Within a second he took off his shirt, his hand still around your waist so you don't fall with his movements. His shirt fell down to the floor, exposing his bare chest that you had seen so many times before but… today was different. He then pulls your body up and places you on the other side of the couch.

As your eyes follow his chest he unzips his pants, his rough voice sounding through your ears. “Pants off.” He commands you to do as asked - and you follow through. Scrambling to tug off your pants and then your panties, your cunt gets a hit of the breeze to it. He gazes at your bare form, no pants, no panties and no shirt. Only a bra yet to be ripped off. He groans at the sight of you. As you look back towards him you see him getting out his cock, the length bouncing out. You were a little scared to touch, after the events from before you weren't sure what was okay now…

“Come ‘ere love” Simon's voice mixed between his rough voice and one that's trying to be as loving as possible. Following his commands brings you to be sitting on his lower stomach, he was laid down with his hands rubbing up your hips. Murmuring sweet, soft things to slowly melt your brain.

“So so pretty dove” he hums to himself and smiles, meeting your gaze with his own.

Without asking you had enough, enough of the build up, enough of practically edging since the shower scene, enough of not being filled with his cock! Pulling your hands to his chest and lifting yourself, making sure to be careful and not hurt him. He questions, “what are you up to love?" not angry, just curious. No reply came but a soft whine while you sink yourself onto his cock, feeling him fill you up. Hovering just above, not taking the full thing. His groan just makes you a little more scared, well not scared just you wanted to take this slow. It's your first time with him, Simon Riley - the man you had a crush on for years maybe, and you didn't wanna drop down onto his big cock and cum instantly. That would be so fucking pathetic. But then again you feel the knot ripping already by just seeing his face making those sounds and his cock being slightly in you.

Simon's hands wrap around your waist, gripping his fingernails into you - small curved cresents buried into your skin. A groan growls from you, then when he lifts you up, and plops you all the easy down onto his cock, a loud gasp follows. Spearing your cunt. “S-si!” you loudly moan out. Your cunt squishes his cock, his groans only make the heat maximise. Eyes roll back when his strength lifts you back up and spears you onto his length once more. After a while of the same movement you were basically a flop. Just his fleshlight.

“Fuck princess!” Simon whines when he stops force impaling you, then you start bouncing up and down. Your tits bounce along with your movements, creating a hypnotising target for him. Up and down, following every jump you make. Your walls tighten around his cock. The wetness from you running down his cock, creating almost a fountain from your moistness. “Keep going doll” groans drop from his lips as his orgasm nears, your wet cunt engulfing his dick. Your cunt is filled with his cock. Honestly if he were to come, you'd just burst. You thrust yourself up and back down. His groans and your moans create one big potion. A potion that would surely have you, Simon and your brother all sitting down at the dinner table tomorrow talking about what the fuck was going on.

Your guilt gets closed off when Simon's voice whispers out, “‘m close!” fusion between being quiet and being loud. Bouncing faster, more mewls fall out of you. Being ping-ponged onto his cock just felt so fucking good. “Me too” barely formed your words, too busy with the pleasurable activity.

“Your body's so fuckin’-” his groan slices through the sentence, “so fucking perfect, fucken made to take my cock. Werent you? Cute little slut all f’ me” His blabbers between his shut teeth came out louder than he wanted. He was very clearly trying to last as long as possible and not cum. Your bounces fasten up when your high glows closer and closer, so desperate for a release and his release. His length hits all the right fucking angles.

“Let me cum inside you.. Please please please" His plea filled the living room, so eager to fill you up. With your mind elsewhere and letting your slutty body take control you let him. His grip onto your waist tightens, forcing your movements to grow. His cock feels every wet spot inside you, the pressure building up. He moans out, his grip tightening as he thrusts up into you. His rhythm increases, you feel yourself getting closer and closer, your body trembling and your mind spinning. The small sweet faces you make, your eyes rolling back into your currently empty brain. Soon his warm, salty cum fills you up, spurting down from your pussy. Your orgasm soon follows after, both your cum mixing together - creating one big sticky mess. A mess that surely you'd regret in about 10 hours. His eyes almost fell back with his head, leaning back against the sofa.

He slowly pulls out of you, a small trail of cum following behind him. Taking a deep breath and a big stretch. You feel a rush of pleasure course through your body as he leans in and plants a soft kiss on your forehead. Your eyes are glued closed, savouring the moment. His lips linger on your skin, and you can feel the electricity in the air. You take a deep breath and open your eyes, looking into his addictive eyes as you smile weakly at him.

Perhaps you were right to fuck him and it was for the best. You finally shagged him and the faux images didn't have to be in your head anymore - you finally put an end to those fantasies. Now for all the consequences for shagging him. Simon Riley. Your brothers' best mate.

comment to join main taglist!

[augustinewrites]

augustine!!! forgive me if this is alr something u wrote in kuwtf but!! i just had a thought come to me !!! did megumi (when he was younger) ever message/text/call reader (or gojo… but i doubt 😭😭) to come and pick him up in the middle of smth he’s rlly not enjoying? like !! him being all hesitant and shy abt it !!! but he’s like “can you pick me up… please” or “… i want to go home” 🥺🥺🥺

“okay, while the kids are with you, you’re the new me. strict, but fair. fun, but still careful—”

“ugh, that sounds so boring,” shoko groans. “i prefer being the cool aunt who looks like she could be their sister.”

“uh oh, it sounds like someone’s already raided our liquor cabinet,” gojo teases, sauntering into the kitchen to steal some of the snacks you’re laying out. “maybe we should have nanami babysit shoko babysitting our kids.”

you bat his hands away, rolling your eyes as he pouts. “that’s not necessary, i believe in her.”

“so…you’re saying i didn’t hear you call nanami first?”

“go get changed,” you mutter, ignoring his question and shoving him back towards the bedroom. he goes, but not without placing a big wet kiss on your cheek first.

megumi, who’d been coming in to find a snack, makes an affronted noise.

shoko throws her arm around him, ruffling his hair. “don’t worry about us! i got your very lengthy text message with all the instructions,” she assures you, waving her phone in front of you. “in bed by nine at the latest, no watching sex and the city, and no ending up in the hospital, prison, or the news.”

“yes. by the way, i ordered some pizza for dinner and  left some money so you can take them out for breakfast tomorrow, but please please keep an eye on megumi,” you remind her, swiping the crumbs off your hands and leaning your hip against the counter. “he likes to wander and has a problem with authority.”

“i don’t have a problem with authority,” the boy huffs, ducking out from under shoko’s arm. 

“ohhhh, but you do,” gojo chimes in, coming out of the bedroom dressed up in a nice shirt and tie. you slip your arm through his when he offers, letting him lead you toward the door. 

“have fun!” you call as satoru kneels to help you slip your heels on. 

“not as much fun as you guys will!” shoko calls back. it’s followed by, “say, megumi, have you ever smoked a cigarette before?” 

“ieiri!”

“kidding! you’re so gullible.” 

_____

“a hotel room with one bed!” you gasp, in awe of the king-sized bed sitting in the center of the room. you seat yourself atop of the luxurious sheets, the silk smooth under your palms. “i forgot what this was like!”

gojo sets both your bags down, smiling. “do you want to order some room service? we could order a nice bottle of champagne, eat some dessert—”

you hum, uncrossing your legs slowly. “i can think of something else you can eat…”

you reach up to grab his tie and tug him closer—

—only for it to come off entirely. 

“a clip on tie, satoru? really?” 

his cheeks blush a cute, rosy pink. “they’re really hard to tie if you’re not around to help me!”

you toss it to the side, laughing as he pulls you into his arms, aggressively planting kisses all over your face. he walks you back until you both fall onto the bed, his fingers crawling up the hem of your shirt.

“wait, is that my phone vibrating?”

_____

“what if she’s the one, tsumiki?” you hear shoko sigh, exasperated. 

“like your one true love?”

“yeah! what’s happening to me? i don’t even believe in that stuff.”

you and gojo exchange an amused look. no wonder megumi had texted. 

“have you told utahime any of this?” your wise-beyond-her-years 13 year old asks.

“what? why would i do that?”

“if you don’t tell her how you feel, you’ll both regret it for the rest of your life!”

“utahime and shoko?” gojo whispers. “since when?”

you roll your eyes, swatting at his chest. “since always! you seriously never noticed? she had the biggest crush on her when we were in school.”

“i think i was just too busy looking at you.” 

you can’t help the way you smile at that, your heart a butterfly beat in your chest  “you need to stop, because we’re here to save megumi and if you keep sweet talking me…”

he tucks himself snugly against your back, setting his chin into the crook of your neck. “i’m more of a hands-on learner, so maybe if you show me what’ll happen—”

“finally,” megumi sighs, relieved. 

“whoa,” gojo stops him, tugging on the handle of the backpack over megumi’s shoulder’s. “what’s this for?”

_____

the backpack was for exactly what gojo feared. megumi sleeps soundly between you both in that gorgeous king-sized bed. 

“is this what the rest of our lives are gonna look like?” he asks, fingertips brushing your forehead.

“better get used to abstinence, pal.”

[klemen-tine]

Glass Bones and Paper Skin Part 3

Platonic! Bruce x Model! GN! Reader

Trigger Warnings: Hint at suicide, Body Issues, Eating problems (not a disorder), Child Neglect, stalking, Partner Abuse

Part 1

Part 2

@problematicreblogger and @wpdarlingpan Since you guys wanted to be tagged lol

+++++++++++++

Y/N sat in the bathtub in the guest room. It’s been three days since they arrived, saw the photos, and the creepy trophy room. Three days since their conversation with Dick, finding out that they had all been on their terrace and taking photos of them. Stalking them. 

They wrapped their arms tighter around their legs, resting their chin on sharp knees and staring at the porcelain tiles and gold facet. Three days of walking on egg shells, somehow managing to evade most attempts in hanging out with the siblings and Bruce, and only really seeing them at meals. Y/N hasn’t built up the nerve to ask about the trophy room, but Y/N knows that everyone in the house knows that Y/N knows of the two rooms. They know of the photos, the ones taken without their permission or knowledge, and the clothes that have redefined their modeling career. 

Sighing, Y/N stared at their pruning hands and the now cool water. The bubbles dissolved a long time ago and the essential oils had become diluted enough that the scents no longer permeated the air. 

Finally dressed in a robe, lotion and oil on their skin and face and teeth washed, Y/N exited the bathroom and screamed at the sight of Jason on their bed. In the midst of their panic they threw the brush at the larger man, who caught it skillfully. 

“Wha-what is wrong with you? No-wait, why are you in my room?” Y/N walked around the large bed to where all their clothes are kept. Their eyes not leaving Jason’s imposing figure that was currently resting on their bed. 

“I knocked.” Y/N rolled their eyes, “I didn’t ask if you knocked, why are you in my room?” Jason shrugged, “Just felt like I haven’t talked to you in a bit.” Jason and Y/N’s relationship was like that of dragons in the old ages. Full of history and non-existent. 

Jason was already dead by the time Y/N had entered the Manor. A small body buried in the Wayne gravesite. In hindsight, Y/N’s timing had been awful. Moving in when Tim basically forced Batman to take him in as a Robin, Dick’s and Bruce’s relationship had worsened, Jason was dead for about a year, and Alfred had still been grieving. Truly a terrible time to join a family. Y/N could taste the tension when they had first moved in, and they understood immediately that they were just another unneeded burden. 

A 13-year-old Y/N cried in their bathroom, mourning their mother who had loved the fame more than them, the friends that loved Y/N for Y/N, and the life on the West Coast that they were now expected to continue on the East Coast. 

The unfairness of it all. 

“What do you want to talk about?” Y/N asked, rummaging through the drawers and finding a nice shirt and some nice jeans. 

“Hmm, oh you know, the casual how are you doing? How’s the model-life? Any fun stories you have? What have you been doing lately?” Y/N started changing in the bathroom, keeping the door cracked so they could hear the questions. 

When Y/N reemerged, now fully dressed and the robe hanging on the back of the door, they smiled at Jason, “I’m doing good, kind of tired but that's to be expected because of the ‘model-life.’ The fun stories I have are more of traveling around the world and seeing different cultures and eating good food. 

“As of late, I’ve been thinking about getting a cat.” Jason’s brow raised, “You travel though.” Y/N nodded, “Yeah, some models travel with their pets and I think that's what I plan to do. They’re easier to travel with than a dog, and I don’t think a dog would like my condo.” Jason nodded, “You could always leave it here. The little spawn would take care of it.” 

“I can’t do that to the family. It’s my pet and should be my responsibility.” Jason hummed, “Is it because you don’t want to visit?” The air stilled and blue eyes met E/C. Jason didn’t look bothered, if anything he seemed relaxed about the whole thing, “It’s fine if that's the reason. I hate being here too.” 

Jason came back as a dead person Y/N knew not to talk about. From the stairways, they would watch Jason storm out after a bad argument with Bruce. Unable to completely understand what exactly was going on, but from the hushed conversations they knew it was something they didn’t want to know about. 

“I don’t hate being here, I just don’t have reason to visit other than Alfred.” Jason continued to stare at them, “Not even for ‘family.’” 

“Jason, when have you ever looked at me and saw a sibling?” Jason didn’t banter with Y/N, never showed interest or any inclination that Y/N even existed. Y/N is pretty sure that to Jason, Y/N is just a stranger living in the manor. 

Y/N wonders if they will see Jason’s temper. Will it appear like the monster hidden in the closet, waiting for the right time to lash out at anything? Y/N has heard the screaming matches, the threats, the holes in the walls from Jason. For someone who has killed people, Y/N wonders if they should really be mucking around with Jason. 

When Y/N looks at Jason, they see the middle child of a family that had other priorities. Once upon a time, Jason was the youngest and loved by Bruce, but then younger Robins came. Jason died, and while never replaced, Robin was. 

When Y/N looks at Jason, they see the middle child of a family that Y/N is not a part of. 

They are not siblings. Not cousins, relatives, they are not even friends. Barely acquaintances if Y/N is honest. Which is fine. Y/N has gotten over the hurt and feelings of loneliness. 

It is just Y/N against the world, with Alfred partially in their corner. Not fully. Never fully because Alfred will always be in the Wayne family’s corner, and Y/N is not a Wayne. 

Jason sighed, “Mmm, I guess that night when you took a beating from that one dude for not getting in the car.” Y/N paused in brushing their hair, mind reeling and slowly turning their head to look at Jason who was instead picking at his nails. Y/N opened their mouth, but Jason beat them to it, “You went out partying, like almost every high schooler does, and your boyfriend was drunk.” 

“Just get in the car, Y/N!” 

“No! You’re drunk and you said you’d stay sober!” 

“I am sober, now get in the fucking car!” 

“Fuck off!” A 15-year-old Y/N stormed off, turning their back to Marcus Dueller, the then jock of the school. A rough hand grabbed their shoulder and a fist met their face, “You don’t talk to me like that.” 

“...Marcus wasn’t my boyfriend.” Jason didn’t show any signs of hearing Y/N, “You took a pretty bad beating, I’ll admit it. I was going to step in once he started choking you, but you took that brick to his head pretty hard.” 

Blood splattered across Y/N’s face as Marcus collapsed. The hands around their neck loosening and Y/N took deeply needed gasps of air. Their throat aching and lungs burning as they rolled over onto their hands and knees. Tears pricked their eyes as the pain and realization settled in. 

“I called his friends. He was fine, just a concussion.” Marcus and Y/N never talked again, and Marcus’s friends took one look at the bruises on Y/N’s face and neck to understand what had happened. 

They all stayed Marcus’s friends, because unlike Y/N, Marcus was loved by his family. 

“Then, you walked your beaten ass towards the liquor store.” 

“Oh my God! Y/N!” Stacey cried out in shock, and she gently cupped bruised cheeks and watched split lips grow into a smile. 

“Can I have that bottom shelf vodka please?” 

“Bitch, you need a second shelf from the bottom vodka.” They sat outside of the store, Stacey’s partner taking over the counter as she watched Y/N take swig after swig from the bottle. Her concerned eyes tracing over each and every bruise and cut, down to the clothes they were wearing and scrapes in their knees and hands. 

“How many does this make?” 

“Seven. Whoever said seven was a lucky number is a liar.” 

“Oh Y/N, why do you keep doing this?” Y/N gave Stacey the most beautiful they could muster. Not minding the ache in their cheeks or the burning of alcohol on split lips. 

Looking back at it, perhaps Y/N was on a downward spiral. Trying to find love in other people that weren’t the people at home. From ages 13 to 15, Y/N had dated over 9 people. Not one of them made it past two months, and none of them were healthy. 

Once Y/N got into modeling, all their attention went into it. Dating and friends were on a standstill as their career and education became a priority. Maybe that was another thing Y/N inherited from Bruce, a known serial dater. Although, Y/N knows for sure that their taste in partners was definitely inherited from their mother. 

Some of Y/N’s earliest memories are of M/N getting berated and smacked around by men bigger than her. When they would leave, Y/N would emerge with bandaids and tears on their face. M/N would smile at them, blood from her nose painting her lips red and she would cup soft cheeks and whisper in their ears- 

“Diamonds have never been made with gentle hands.” Y/N glared at Jason, who was meeting that glare head on. Now that they are older, Y/N has learned to hate that phrase. They have watched numerous models be in kind and gentle hands and still be beautiful. Still have a loving and healthy relationship with themselves and the other. 

Now that they are older, Y/N knows how untrue those words are. Yet, who said those words had to only be applied to romantic partners? 

“Now here you are, in your glass castle imitating diamonds.” Y/N’s nose scrunched, “Always the poet, reading the classics.” Jason shrugged, "Someone has to be literate in this messed up family. Sure as hell ain’t Bruce.” Y/N rolled their eyes, “So what? That still does not explain anything. More importantly, why now then?” Why was it now that they decided to make a move if they had supposedly been caring for a while now. 

Jason smirked, "Because finally, Bruce sees it too.” Y/N narrowed their eyes and watched with pursed lips as the bigger and stronger man got up from the bed, and walked over to them, “I’d wear comfortable shoes, Y/N. You’re going out with Bruce and the little spawn today.” 

“Wait, what do you mean Bruce finally sees it too? What is there to see?” Jason smiled at him, and it looked more of a monster preening at it’s prey. Callused hands reached up and traced the small, almost invisible scar on Y/N’s upper lip. 

“Make sure you smile, the vultures will be there too.” 

++++

“I do think green will look best on you.” Y/N smiled at Damian, “Green looks good everybody, Damian. You just need the right shade.” Between them was an emerald green silk shirt, the price displayed like a bounty and Y/N wanted to walk out of the store once they saw it. Yes, they made a lot of money, but Y/N also knows what it means to be frugal. 

Damian raised an eyebrow and continued to judge the piece as if it had insulted the family. Y/N set the shirt down and continued to peruse the aisles. Their eyes looking at all the clothing and trying to predict what will be in style. What could they use to match or create their own trend? It is still winter, meaning layers will still be necessary but how to make a stylish outfit when there needs to be layers. 

“Do you see anything you want, Y/N?” They jumped a bit, and whirled around to see Bruce smiling at them. Those blue eyes, intense like winter rivers, roamed over what Y/N was looking at and he raised a well groomed eyebrow, “Do you want that one?” 

“N-no, no thank you. I’m just looking.” Bruce hummed, and wrapped a large arm around Y/N’s bony shoulders and brought them close. He pressed his lips against his temple, an unusual act of affection towards his kids but everyone will chalk it up to Y/N being a model and still young. Bruce whispered against Y/N’s skin, “Just let me know what you want, and I will get it for you.” 

‘If I want to be left alone?’ Y/N didn’t voice it, but they didn’t have too. Bruce’s grin was sharp, “Within reason, Y/N.” A chill ran down Y/N’s spine and they swallowed down the bile threatening to come up. 

“I have money, Bruce. I can buy my own stuff.” Bruce picked up a shirt, “Let me spoil you. It is what parents do.” 

“You already paid off my condo, that is good enough.” Bruce continued to smile, “That was for the birthdays and holidays I missed while you were with us. I still have to make up for the time when you were with your mother.”  Y/N wanted to scream, “How about you donate that then?” 

Bruce smiled, “I already do. Let me spoil you.” He kissed Y/N’s temple once more before walking away, eyeing everything the way designers did when critiquing their pieces. Y/N had a feeling that if they didn’t get something from here, the store would be paying the price. Grabbing a sheer halter top and pair of black high waisted pants, Y/N let Damian throw the green top on the small pile and made their way to the check out. The cashier smiled nervously as the Wayne family stood in front of her. 

True to Bruce’s promise, he paid for the three articles of clothes, the pair of shoes, the jewelry, the accessories, the–

“I think that is enough.There are a lot of bags, and while I appreciate it, I really don’t need anymore stuff.” Y/N placated Bruce and Damian, already picturing the amount of trips it will be to take everything back home. The man seemed satisfied though, smiling and shrugging his shoulders, “If you insist. How about some lunch now?” 

Y/N wanted to decline. They wanted to go back to the manor and get away from everybody. The feeling of walking on eggshells and constantly being watched had their skin crawling and the need to take another bath. Bruce wrapped an arm around Y/N’s shoulder and brought them close, and Damian took up their other side. 

“You’re acting more as a bodyguard than a father it seems.” Bruce smiled, “We’re having a nice family outing. I’d hate it if one of your ‘followers’ interrupted." Y/N furrowed their brow, but they could not stop their body from tensing, “Someone is following us?” 

“Unfortunately.” The photos they saw in their old room re-emerged and a feeling of dread seized their muscles, making them lean further into Bruce. Yes, they were once all Robins, but not once in those photos taken from their terrace was there ever a reflection of the Bat. 

“It’s okay Y/N, I’ll make sure they won’t take any of you.” 

“How… how do you know its not you they want a photo of?” Bruce smiled, guiding them into a fancy restaurant, Damian requesting a table away from the windows, "Because they all know not to follow me.” There was something akin to a warning in Bruce’s voice that had Y/N biting their lips and following the wait staff quietly. 

Y/N watched as Damian and Bruce conversed casually, well, as casually as Damian can be. The topics went from school, a family named the Kents, and future prospects. Damian was still unsure about what exactly it is he wanted to do, and it most likely didn’t help that Tim was the one who was going to take over Wayne Enterprises. 

Y/N continued to eat and sip their tea, not wanting to add to anything as their mind wandered. After talking to Jason, it proved to Y/N that they were somewhat always being watched. Jason bringing up that one specific memory may have made Y/N’s heart rate spike, but it did prove that Jason was there. The photos, all of them that were taken without Y/N’s consent, show that everyone had at some point gained interest. 

However, why did they never act on it? Why wait until now to do something? 

‘Bruce finally sees it too.’ Y/N’s jaw clenched, what does Bruce have to do with any of this? Could they not interact without Bruce’s permission? Alfred would never allow that. 

Would he? 

“What do you think, Y/N?” The question jolted Y/N out of their thoughts and back into reality. Looking around the table to two expectant gazes, they gave an apologetic smile, “Sorry. I was thinking about something, what was the question?” 

Damian scrunched his nose, “What is there to think about when you have blood-related family members in front of you?” Y/N blinked in shock, and then remembered how much blood meant to Damian. They shrugged, “I have a busy schedule coming up.” 

Bruce stabbed the piece of steak with the silver fork, “You do, don’t you.” He stared at his child, one who he has left to their own devices and now is estranged from the family. Always keeping them at arms length, and never looking back to see if they are behind them. Not because Y/N trusts them to be, but because Y/N was used to them not being there. 

Y/N, for how proud Bruce is of them for standing on their own, is still naive. Still innocent. They didn’t notice the paparazzi lurking around, or maybe they got so used to them they learned to block them out. None of it sat right with Bruce. Those should have been things he taught Y/N. Things to prepare Y/N for a world that was bathed in camera flashes and gossip. How to look out for themselves. How to defend themselves, and what to do in case there is a stalker. Those should have been at least a fraction of what Bruce taught them. 

Yet, he never did any of that. Looking at Y/N sitting across from him, sitting tall and with a closed-off expression, had Bruce frowning. Y/N was still polite, smiled when they needed to and engaged in conversation, but there was still a wall between them. Almost like glass. Bruce is able to see everything and hear almost everything, but his ability to interact with his child is limited. All interactions stopped by the wall of glass put up by Y/N themselves. 

It's a good thing that Batman breaks glass windows on a daily basis. 

“You have some shoots in New York, will you be visiting afterwards?” Bruce watched Y/N’s eyes widen and lips pursed. He could see the breaking point, cracks spreading throughout the glass as Y/N’s mind tried to wrap around the question. 

“How–” 

“Is it odd for a parent to know their child’s schedule?” Y/N blinked, and processed the information. A tight smile formed on their lips, “How long have you known my schedule?” Bruce took a bite of the steak and Damian continued to eat his plate of some fancy pasta.

“Now Y/N-” 

“How long have you known my schedule?” Damian glanced up, irritated at their father being cut off, but the look on Bruce’s face had him settling down. The man was smiling, non-threateningly but all Y/N could see was the Bruce that had stood before them in the changing room after Gabanna’s runway show. The same eyes, full of intentions that had Y/N shivering and the money, power, and background to act on those intentions. 

“Like I have said, Y/N. I am making up for the lost time and neglect you have faced within our home.” 

“And I have said, Bruce, there is nothing to make up. That still does not answer my question about you knowing my schedule.” The cracks were spreading, chipping away and becoming weaker. 

“What parent doesn’t know-” 

“Don’t repeat that sentence. Bruce, you know what I am asking and you keep avoiding it. Who told you my schedule?” An emotion other than faux politeness finally filtered into Y/N’s voice, making the question sound firm and unlikely to bend or be swept away with Bruce’s elusivity. He smiled, “Oh Y/N, did Maya not tell you? GLM Agency has been under new agency since last year. Wayne Industries is now the parent of GLM Agency.” 

Y/N stared at Bruce in confusion, their pretty face twisting as the words registered with them. Everything crashed on Y/N, like glass shattering and bathing them in their shards. The guest room that is identical to their bedroom at home, the clothes that are from their closet, the two rooms full of their photos and mannequins wearing their iconic looks, that fucking Batman-inspired piece of clothing. 

“Y/N.” They’re walking away from the table, head lost in thought and body moving on autopilot. The need to get away from everyone was overpowering the logical part of their mind, and Y/N is walking towards the front door of the restaurant. Pushing the glass doors open, and being bombarded by flashes from cameras. 

“Y/N, what do you have to say about your mother?” A 13-year-old Y/N was guided out of the condo by police officers. Eyes rimmed red from crying and their only source of comfort was the blanket they managed to snag before being escorted out. 

“Were you aware of your mother’s drug-use?” 

“Are you on drugs?” A 17-year-old Y/N walked past the paparazzi, keeping their eyes forward even though they wanted to snarl at that person. 

“Y/N! Look over here!” 

“Look!”

“Over here!”  

A large hand gripped their arm guided Y/N through the crowd and towards the parking lot where the car was. The large body blocking the photos and shielding them from the flashing of cameras that had thrown Y/N back in time. Once inside the safety of the metal box on wheels, Y/N became aware of their rapid breathing and the feeling of their heart pounding. Irregular beats and sweat began to form on their skin as they struggled to take a breath. Just one breath.

The hand that had guided them to the car grabbed their wrist and placed it on a large and firm chest, emphasizing the deep breaths that Y/N needed and wanted to take. Rough fingers gently traced their cheek, up to their ear, and then to their hair. Gently bringing Y/N back to the present. 

“Shh shh, it’s okay Y/N. It’s okay. You’re safe.” E/C eyes drifted around the car, and closed once they saw the person’s reflection. 

“Father, those vermin have been cleared. All of them will be getting in trouble.” 

“Thank you, Damian.” Y/N rested their head against the glass and fought down the need to jump out of the car. Bruce eyed Y/N, and what made it worse was there was an apologetic look on his face. 

“Y/N, I… I am sorry. I thought Maya had told you.” 

“Seems like your manager isn’t doing their job if you didn’t know. You should get a new one.” 

“Don’t talk about her like that,” Y/N mumbled, feeling a headache forming and they wanted nothing more than to curl under the covers and die. They could feel Damian’s pointed look through the seat, “Maya is a great manager. She will not be replaced.” Damian sneered, “She didn’t even inform you of the change in ownership.” 

“Because it does not concern me. As long as I am able to get booked and get to my destinations, it does not matter who is in charge.” Y/N paused, “Although, now it looks like nepotism.” 

Bruce huffed at his child’s overdramaticness, "It's not nepotism. I had no say in what shows you did or who booked them.” 

“But you had a say in what clothes I wore.” Ice filled the car and Bruce gave Y/N a long look. 

“Just that one piece, and I asked her to do it. She didn’t have to do it.” Y/N laughed, long and hollow as they turned their head to Bruce, “Of course she had to do it. Bruce Wayne is asking for a commission piece, who would turn it down without risking their reputation?” The man sighed, “Y/N, I submitted a commission piece. That is the only thing I had a hand in throughout your modeling career.” 

“Others won’t believe that.” 

“Who cares what others think.” Y/N whipped their head around to Damian, “I do. I do a lot actually. I care a lot about what my fellow models say and think about me.” The boy rolled his eyes, “Why? Their opinions don’t matter.” 

“And your’s do?” 

“We are family!” 

“By blood, yeah! That’s as far as it goes.” Damian looked ready to snarl out more remarks, but the abrupt parking of the car had both of them pausing. They were already at the manor, and Y/N wondered just how fast was Bruce driving to get them here so quickly. 

Y/N was quick to jump out of the car, “I will grab those bags later. Please don’t make Alfred take them.” Bruce followed, “Y/N.” 

“No! No, ‘Y/N’ or anything. I want to be left alone.” Y/N pushed open the manor’s front door, and they wonder how many times they have snuck in and out of these doors before. Was it really even sneaking out if someone knew? 

“Y/N, we need to talk about this.” There was something in Bruce’s voice that stoked the right ember within Y/N’s chest. Whipping around, they glared at the two Waynes, “For fuck’s sake, I just want to be left alone! I was fine with how things were. None of this-this- whatever the hell this is! 

I was fine on my own. I was fine without you guys. I would have been fine if you stayed away!” Bruce didn’t even look bothered that Y/N was yelling, in fact the asshole looked relieved. He gave a patient smile with fake concern in those blue eyes, “The thing is though Y/N, you never should have done it on your own.” 

Y/N rolled their eyes, “Where the hell did all of this even come from?! This… this sudden need to be part of my life? You’re not even being subtle about it!” They were drawing a crowd, but Y/N couldn’t even bring themselves to care. 

“I keep telling you, it does. Not. Bother. Me that you all were inattentive. It doesn’t make me mad, it doesn’t make me upset, it doesn’t stir anything within me knowing you were not there. Yet here you are trying to make it up and all that nonsense, but when I tell you that it's fine you don’t listen!

“It genuinely seems that you are not doing this for me, but to ease your guilt.” Bruce met Y/N’s gaze, and it appeared they were in their own little showdown. Bruce’s gaze, not showing a hint of anger or irritation at his child while Y/N seethed. For once, Y/N looked liked the wild one in the family. Their teeth bared and eyes full of unadulterated rage, they glared at Bruce with the face of a raging angel. 

They hated how Bruce’s lips pulled into a smile, and the feeling of gloating eyes falling on their body from all their siblings. Like they all knew something Y/N didn’t. 

“Bruce finally sees it too.” 

Y/N pocketed that thought, taking a deep breath and trying to calm down. Nothing intelligent was ever said when angry– 

“So tell your big brother Y/N, how do you expect us to trust you on your own when you can’t even notice someone on your terrace?” 

– Fuck it. Intense E/C eyes landed back on Bruce, “If you bought GLM Agency a year ago, why now?” Bruce continued to stare into Y/N’s eyes, “Because it seemed like you needed a break from Gotham. So, I figured a year away would be good.” 

Y/N narrowed their gaze, “Then why didn’t you call?” 

“Because it looked like you needed a break.” Y/N chuckled, “I needed a break, or you needed time to get those rooms set up?” Bruce raised a brow, but Y/N continued on, “It's one thing to have photos from some photoshoots but not photos taken without my consent. Or the clothes I’ve worn on mannequins with almost the exact same physique as me.” 

“They are exact.” Y/N tore their gaze away from Bruce to stare at Tim, the thin and exhausted looking teen standing above them on the stairway. Chapped lips opened, “We used the measurements within the modeling database and created mannequins that have your exact measurements.” 

Y/N gaped at him for a quick second before rolling their eyes, “Wow. That’s not helping your guys’ case at all.” Dick approached them, going for a placating gesture and an easy smile, “Now Y/N, I think you might be overreacting–” 

“I think I am underreacting to all of this. I find out that you all have been taking secret photos of me, which someone them are from my ‘stalker’ and I don’t really believe that but whatever, you have access to my bank account, you bought the modeling agency I work for, commissioned a Batman-inspired piece, and that you have been keeping some of runway pieces on models that are exactly my measurements!

How else am I supposed to be reacting?! And I still don’t have my phone back!” Y/N snapped at Dick, and then began to rub their temples when the headache got worse. An Aspirin, they need an Aspirin. Now, preferably but Y/N has the strangest sense that even if they did take it, the headache would not go away. 

“Whatever, just… I’m going home tomorrow and whatever was bought today just… just ship it. Since you know my address and all that apparently.” Y/N began walking up the stairs, ignoring the panicked looks some of their ‘siblings’ were giving them and the dark look on Bruce’s face. 

Dick, ever the peacemaker, reached out, “Wait, you can’t go back yet! You still have a few more weeks before your next shoot. Just stay for a few more days.” 

“Add kidnapping and being held against my will to that list too.” Y/N continued walking, feeling exhausted and wanting to sleep. They missed the nod Bruce gave Tim and Damian, and they missed the dark and knowing looks on Jason’s and Dick’s face. The walk back to the room was long, and more exhausting than usual. The events of today caught up to them and Y/N wanted nothing more than to cry, scream, and then go to sleep. 

Because why not. 

“Y/N, you are making a mistake.” Dick followed after their younger sibling, who only sped up to get away from them. The man grabbed Y/N’s forearm, “Y/N, listen! You don’t want to do this.” 

“What is ‘this’ you are talking about Dick? I am literally just going home. It is not a big deal.” Y/N tried to pull their arm away from Dick, but to no avail. 

“It's how you are doing it Y/N. All we want is to spend time with you and make up for the lost time!” Y/N wanted to scream at Dick, but held it in and instead gritted out, “Why didn’t you do it normally then? Like… texting or calling.” Dick pouted, those blue eyes looking sad and his lower lip jutting out like a toddler, “We missed you, and we just wanted to see you.” 

Y/N’s face was scrunched, their mouth open in disgust, “How can you say that with that look on your face as if you all weren’t the ones who ignored me?” Dick looked heartbroken and some part of Y/N felt bad about that. They remembered the room with the photos and the other side of Dick that they saw only a few days ago. Their body seized in terror, but Y/N tried to keep their expression neutral. 

“Look, Dick, once again I am not mad about how my time here was spent. I’m genuinely not. But you guys keep throwing it back in my face and saying such contradicting things, of course I’m going to get upset about it.” They are trying to be civil. Trying so desperately to be civil and it feels like it is not working. Old wounds and painful memories continued to be dragged out of the crevices of their minds like it was some type of zoo attraction. 

A 16-year-old Y/N stared at the shattered mirror, tears racing down their face as they stared at their broken reflection. All they could see were the imperfections everyone continued to call out. Comparing them to their mother, to other models, to society’s twisted views of beauty that Y/N is trying to be. 

If their mother was alive, would she know what to say? Would she gaze at them with those soft eyes and long lashes, smiling beautifully and whispering, “Diamonds have never been made with gentle hands.” Continuing to remind Y/N that modeling was not a gentle job. It wasn’t a job for those with paper skin or glass bones. Those easily hurt by the meanest of comments, nastiest looks, and the horrendous words never made it in this industry.

Would this have been easier if they had the support of Bruce and his kids? 

Labored breaths and broken sobs filled room-turned-practice room as the mirrors caught the sight of a teenager breaking down. Crumbling and shattering under the pressure, pricking their fingers as they cleaned up the broken mirror and picking up their shattered image. 

It will be those same mirrors that watched those broken shards form their glass castle, posing as diamonds to deter others from trying to break in. 

Y/N continued to walk down the long hallway, ignoring Dick’s calls and locking the door behind them. It was only 2pm, and Y/N had plans to sleep the rest of the day. They had no bags to pack, and nothing here they felt like taking. All they needed to do is sleep the day away, which will be easy, wake up tomorrow, call a cab and skedaddle out of here. 

“Thats all we have to do, Y/N.” They closed their eyes for what only felt like a few minutes, until jostling and whispers of their name had them groggily opening their eyes. A yawn escaping them and their eyes struggled to open. 

“Why are you in my room?” Tim gave a small huff, “Its dinner time.” Y/N buried their face in their pillow, groaning out a ‘not hungry.’ The young man hummed, “I think you should come down for this one, Y/N. You might get the answers you want.” 

“Not interested.” Tim leaned down, his breath tickling Y/N’s ear, “You’re glass castle is shattering, Y/N. Don’t you want help fixing it?” Y/N wanted to swing. They wanted to do something to get their point across that they wanted almost nothing to do with this crazy family anymore. 

They opted to glare, and Tim gave a soft smile, “C’mon, lets go eat. Besides, Alfred said that the cab won’t be coming for you if you don’t eat dinner.” 

“Alfie!” Y/N groaned into the pillow, and they had stopo themselves from throwing up their arms and legs in a fit. Leave it to Alfred to do something so diabolical. Groaning one more time, Y/N sat up and mentally braced themselves for this shitshow of a dinner. 

E/C eyes looked at the door they know they locked, and chose that whatever little bickerment that will start was not worth it at this point in time. Throwing their legs over the bed, they followed Tim out of the room and towards the dining room. 

Everyone was there, and waiting for Y/N to appear. Once again, they were made to sit between Bruce and Damian, which they did so with little complaint. 

“Now, Y/N, it looks like everyone has some explaining to do.” Y/N gave Bruce the driest most unimpressed face they could muster, to which the man took with a smile, “So, what questions do you want answered?” 

‘They’re really doing this.’ Y/N could feel another headache forming, but decided to take the brightly colored bait. Looking at Jason, who was meeting their gaze with his green eyes waiting for this question, Y/N asked, “What did you mean when you said ‘Bruce sees it too.’” The man smirked, meeting Bruce’s eyes and back to Y/N, “Exactly that. The old man finally sees what you are to this messed up family.” 

Y/N narrowed their gaze, taking a bite of the pasta, and chewing slowly. Dick decided to chime in, “Y/N, you have been loved by us for a while. Something you probably pieced together, but Bruce took a while to see it because… well because you’re not us.” 

“Not like, you’re not Robin, but more like you’re not…” 

“You’re fragile.” Everyone’s head turned to Damian, and Y/N had half the idea to be upset about that. They raised an eyebrow, but before they could say anything Damian continued, “You are not meant for this life we lead. Vigilantism never suited you, and that is something I picked up on when I first came here.” 

When Damian had first met Y/N, it was like seeing a rare flower that had to be protected at all costs. Y/N was something that at the slightest gesture, could be hurt. When people come across something ethereal like that, the need to protect it can be divided into two different directions. 

Hovering or distancing. 

Bruce chose to distance himself, whether he knew it or not, and Damian had followed suit. He watched as his older sibling hovered from a distance, watching the rare flower bloom before it was finally the right time to engage with it. 

“Y/N, it isn’t so much that I didn’t want to interact with you, it is that I didn’t know how.” Bruce looked into his child’s eyes, “How could I interact with someone who needed gentle hands, when there is not a gentle bone in my body.” Bruce’s hands have broken more bones than the human body has. He has scars on his skin and calluses on the palm of his hands. 

“It took me a while to figure out why, but once I did, your absence became suffocating.” Everyone had been gasping for air, doing everything in their power for the slightest piece of oxygen. It was the fear of Y/N being harmed that kept them collared and chained to the photos, every interview, every runway show. 

However, Bruce knows that every now and then, children should be able to spread their wings and fall. Y/N ended up flying, soaring above them and never looking back down. Bruce, and the family, decided to give Y/N a year. Just one on their own. This gave them all plenty of time to improve the glass terrarium that they wanted Y/N to be placed back in. This time they will be protected and paid attention too. 

“When everyone stated that I can finally see the impact you have on this family, it means I have to come to terms with the fact that I no longer want to be hands off with your life and career.” Y/N’s brow furrowed, not liking the term ‘hands off.’ 

“You have done great on your own. A fabulous job. Clawing your way up and making a name for yourself, I am so proud of you. Everyone is extremely proud of you. 

However, there is no need for you to struggle anymore. You’ve proven yourself, now let us take care of the rest.” Y/N felt shivers go down their spine as they stared at their family in fear. They took in each expression, and when they made eye contact with Jason, the other had a daring look in his eyes. Begging for Y/N to do something, similar to how predators hope for their prey to fight back to make the kill all the more interesting. 

“But… But I don’t need your help, Bruce. I can do this on my own.” Bruce’s smile was that of honey, luring in unsuspecting insects and trapping them in its viscous fluid. If Y/N were younger, they may have fallen for it. They may have allowed themselves to coat their fingers in sugary words and sweet gestures, just so they could feel the love from a father. 

“I know. We know, but you don’t need to anymore.” 

“Now wait a minute-no. No no no no. You can’t just do that, explain yourself, and expect me to just roll with it.” Y/N set their napkin down, and tried to stand from the table, “I don’t need your help, although thank you for wanting to I guess. I am fine with it just being me and Maya.” 

“About that…” Dick grimaced, handing Y/N his phone and pulled up was an article. 

Y/N’s eyes widened and the world around them went cold. THey looked back up, “You’re lying.” Dick shook his head, fake empathy across his face as Y/N continued to read the article.

“No. NO this is a joke and a terrible one. Maya would never–” 

“They were found in her apartment, Y/N.” The headlines, eerily similar to ones from five year ago, flashed across the small phone screen. 

Manager of Model Y/N L/N Suspected of Drug Usage

Y/N wanted to cry. Horrible flashbacks resurfacing and tears pricking their eyes. They turned to Bruce who was still sitting and eating his pasta.

“Bruce, please. I know Maya, she would never do this.” The man said nothing. Y/N bit their lip, “Bruce… Bruce please. If its because of what I said then take that out on me. Please leave Maya out of it.

“Please Bruce! I know Maya. She’d never do that, and–and Bruce please.” Y/N was whimpering now, tears streaming down their face as the thought of losing their manager, the last person they had, nearly had them collapsing to their knees. 

“Lets make a deal, Y/N.” Bruce wiped the corner of his lips, and grabbed Y/N’s thin wrist. 

“You come home more often, during breaks and whatnot. I won’t have a lot of control over your modeling schedule, but make sure you include time each week for family. The only exception is when you are out of the country.” Y/N stared at Bruce in confusion, but nodded along. 

“In return, Maya gets out of trouble. Nothing will change other than the weekly meeting with family.”  Y/N can’t breathe. They cannot breathe and there were eyes all on them. Gulping down on whatever air they can get a hold of, Y/N sobbed out, “Why are you going to such lengths?” 

Bruce stood, and even though Y/N is tall, no one compares to Bruce’s towering figure. He smiled down at the model, and cupped a wet cheek with a calloused hand. Ice blue eyes stared into watery E/C eyes, and that smile turned too sharp to not be hidden blade, “I told you. It is too make up for lost time. Plus, as those photos suggest, you need protection. What better protection could you have that is not only part of the family, but also vigilantes?

“While it is true that diamonds are never made without pressure, diamond-encrusted jewlery require gentle hands and patience.” Bruce kissed Y/N’s temple, and the model flinched away. Ice blue met their eyes once more, “Now pick, Y/N. Either way, you will still be meeting us once a week, but you can have someone you know at your side or someone under my command.” 

+++++

“And cut! Good job everyone!” The flashes from the camera stopped and the stage lighting turned off, no longer blinding everyone within the room. Y/N stood up from the red couch, a smile still on their lips as they thanked the photographers. 

“Y/N, as always, perfect shots!” 

“Good job Y/N!” 

“Thank you for doing this, Y/N!” They continued to smile and acknowledge everyone that passed by, Maya right behind as they walked back to the changing room. Sitting on the couch was Jason’s large form and Tim’s lithe one. Both of them looking up as Y/N entered, ignoring Maya’s flinch. 

“You have a birthday gala you need to catch. Come on, change out of that and lets go.” Leave it to Jason to get the message across. Y/N nodded, taking to the changing room where they know their clothes are already waiting for them. They could hear Tim interrogating Maya in the politist way. Clipped words and empty praises. 

“Y/N they came out of nowhere! They stormed in and went straight to a vent where these-these drugs were! I’ve never even seen those there before! Let alone know that there was a vent!” Maya cried into Y/N’s shoulder as Dick and Damian watched on. 

Emerging from the changing room in jeans and a crew neck, Y/N sighed, “Alright, shall we get going?” Jason stood up and Tim shook Maya’s sweaty hand. Y/N gave his manager a nod, signalling for her to take the rest of the day off. Jason’s large hand rested on the small of Y/N’s back, and Tim led the way to the new car that Bruce bought. 

The ride was only two hours, filled with light conversation and catching up. Once at the mansion, Y/N greeted Alfred with a hug. Not as tight as they normally are, but it felt wrong entering the mansion without hugging Alfred. Bruce entered the foyer and grinned, hugging Y/N and kissing their temple. 

“Your clothes are in your room, and there is another present on behalf of Damian and Jason.” Y/N nodded, “Thanks, Bruce.” The man smiled, “Come and eat dinner when you are done. We��ll have enough time before the Gala to at least eat something.” Y/N began walking away, each step up the stairs feeling like there was lead on their feet stopping them from going any further. 

Once in the room, the locked the door and on the bed was a box and black and gold clothing. The black looking like it was made out of silk, and the gold was sequin. Y/N carefully walked towards the box, and when they lifted the lid, a white kitten mewed at them. Their fur still looking young and their eyes bluer than Bruce’s. They mewed and mewed, and Y/N could feel tears streaming down their face. 

In neat cursive and tied around the bow of the box, was a small note, ‘We’ll watch her when you decide to leave the country.’ 

Y/N bit their lip, and felt as if their world was falling a part once more. Broken glass surrounding them and no matter where they stepped, their feet will end up bleeding. Now forced to rely on their family to carry them out of the mess they made, and now… now there was a lifeform that this family can and most likely will use against them.  

Thin fingers gently picked up the cat and gave it a wobbly smile, as she mewed at Y/N. A red collar already around her neck, tied in a perfect bow. 

“Y/N, the makeup artists are here. Are you ready?” Wiping their tears, Y/N set the kitten down and took in the black and gold piece once more. 

“Not yet, but they can come in. I’ll get dressed afterwards.” 

“Alright.” The door opened, despite Y/N locking it, and it was Dick smiling as he let in the two artists who were now scrambling to get set up. Blue eyes traveled from the cat, to the clothes, and back to Y/N. He grinned and stalked closer to his younger sibling that was now being corralled into sitting in front of the makeup artist. 

He picked up the kitten and passed her for Y/N to hold, whispering in their ears, “Happy Birthday, Y/N.” 

______________________________________________________________

Honestly... I really like this series. I think I'm going to do other stories but in the other characters POV now.

[alessiasfreckles]

fasching (georgia stanway x reader)

you've had a crush on georgia for a few months after meeting her at a party in munich. now it's fasching, and you're determined to show her the intricacies of the german holiday - i.e. getting drunk.

warnings: alcohol, fluff

a/n: wanted to write something about georgia and fasching/karneval since, y'know, it's fasching (which is a german holiday at the start of lent where everyone wears costumes and gets drunk, basically)! short and sweet x

----

“Well, can I just wear the dirndl I wore for Oktoberfest again?” Georgia asked, frowning. 

“No!” you exclaimed. “You need a real costume.”

“What if my costume is an FC Bayern footballer?” she grinned.

“That’s not a real costume. Or at least, it would be if it wasn’t just basically your work uniform,” you said, rolling your eyes. You got out your phone and started swiping through pictures. “Look, one year I went as a cat. Oh, this is when I went as a clown- but, like, a sexy clown. Ugh, this one year we walked in the parade with my grandad’s political party and they were going as sewage workers for some reason? I was like, 13. I was so embarrassed.”

“So it’s basically like Halloween except with a parade,” Georgia said, an eyebrow raised.

You shrugged. “Kind of, but don’t let anyone hear you say that. Germans take Fasching very seriously. Oh, and if anyone tries to tell you it’s called Karneval, ignore them. It’s Fasching.”

“Right,” she nodded slowly, arms folded. “I still don’t really get the point.”

“Do Germans really need an excuse to get drunk and party?” you asked with a grin, and the English player laughed. “Nah, I think it’s to do with lent, but no one really cares about the origins.”

“Oh, like pancake day!” she said, brightening up.

“Oh! Yeah, I guess. I forgot about pancake day,” you shrugged.

“How could you forget about pancake day? It’s the best holiday.”

“English holidays are weird.”

She hummed. “So, what are you going to go as this year?”

You thought for a minute. “I’m not sure yet. Usually it’s something sexy, because if you can’t pick up girls at Fasching when can you, you know?” you said, not meeting Georgia’s eye. You’d had a crush on her since the two of you had met at a party a few months ago. You had hit it off instantly. Since you were half English and had lived there as a child, and she was new in Munich, meeting another English person felt like a breath of fresh air. 

She laughed, cheeks tinged pink. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. What d’you think I should go as?”

“Hmm,” you tapped a finger to your chin, eyeing the footballer. “Well, it depends. Do you want to be hot or funny?” 

Now her cheeks were bright red. “Uh, I dunno,” she said, laughing nervously. 

“Well, we could do a costume together, if you want. That’s a little more fun than just by yourself,” you suggested, and she nodded eagerly. 

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

By the time Georgia found you at the parade, you’d already had a drink or two and were decidedly on your way to feeling tipsy. 

She saw your costume before she saw you. The two of you had spent a while deliberating on what to wear, going back and forth between ideas, before finally settling on Tom and Jerry. You were going as Jerry (although you felt more like Karen from Mean Girls), wearing a grey dress and mouse ears, and Georgia was wearing a cat onesie, with a nose and whiskers painted on her face. 

Seeing your mouse ears from across the busy street, she hurried over to where you were waiting with your friends. 

“Gee!” you exclaimed when you saw her, pulling her into a hug. “Hi!”

“Hey!” she said, cheeks pink, and nodded to your friends, who were all eyeing her curiously.

“Aha, also sie ist die Fußballerin, in der du schon seit Monaten verknallt bist?” one of your friends said, looking Georgia up and down.

“Klappe!” you said, glaring at her. 

“Was? Sie spricht doch eh kein Deutsch, oder?” the friend asked. 

Georgia wasn’t sure what you and your friends were talking about. All she really picked up was ‘Fußballerin’ and ‘Deutsch’, so she figured it was about her. Feeling awkward, she tapped your arm. 

“Hey, um, I can head out if you want to hang out with your friends a bit,” she suggested, making your heart drop.

“No, no!” you insisted. “They’re being rude. I’d rather hang out with you anyway. I’ve been to plenty of Faschings with them before, this is your first one! Come on, let’s go. Tschüss, Leute.”

Your friends whooped and whistled as you left, making you roll your eyes. 

“Sorry about them. I swear they’re really nice, usually. They’re just protective of me,” you explained. “And I’m sorry about the German - they do speak English, it was rude of them not to.”

“Protective of you? Do they see me as a threat?” Georgia laughed.

You shrugged, cheeks pink, not wanting to say that they knew about your huge crush on the footballer. As you headed into a big square filled with people, you quickly changed the subject.

“Okay, so, rule number 1 of Fasching: bring your own drinks,” you told her, pulling a bottle of premixed juice and vodka out of your bag. “There’s places you can buy them, but they’re always super expensive and watered down.”

Georgia nodded seriously, listening intently. “I’m not really meant to be drinking, but I think I can make an exception today,” she admitted, smiling. “At least, I know a lot of the other girls are. I didn’t bring anything with me, though.”

“That’s okay!” you said brightly. “You can share mine. Rule number 2 is don’t get lost. There’s so many people that it fucks with the phone signal, making it impossible to contact people if you get separated.”

She bit her lip, frowning, and you took her hand in yours. “Just keep holding my hand and we’ll be fine!” you said with a grin. Normally you wouldn’t just take her hand like that, but the drinks you’d had were starting to take some effect, giving you a confidence boost. 

“Okay,” she laughed, blush rising to her cheeks. “Any other rules?”

“Hmm, not that I can think of,” you said, “Just let me know if it’s too much, okay? I know it’s a lot of people.”

You squeezed her hand and she nodded, taking the bottle from you and taking a swig. You cheered her on, and when she gave you the bottle back you took a drink as well, trying not to think about the fact that your lips were where hers had just been. 

“Ready?” you asked, eyes sparkling.

“Ready.” 

-----------

2 hours later, you were well and truly drunk, and Georgia wasn’t far behind you. You had watched the parade for a while before getting bored and wandering around together, giggling about people’s costume choices. After an hour of trying to squeeze through the masses of people, you decided to cut through some back alleys, and had ended up staying in one of them, drinking and talking.

“Usually I don’t really like Fasching,” you admitted, hopping up to sit on a brick wall and swaying slightly, holding out your hands to steady yourself. “Woah.”

“Careful,” Georgia giggled, putting her hands on your waist to help ground you. “Why not?”

“Too many people,” you said, voice slurred, waving a hand towards the noise of the parade, which you could hear streets away. “Too loud.”

“That’s fair,” she nodded. “I don’t really like crowds either.”

“What!” you exclaimed. “Why did you come with me then? I wouldn’t have taken you if I’d known. Fasching is awful if you don’t like crowds.”

“Because you asked me to,” she said simply, smiling at you. “It’s not so bad with you.”

“No?” you asked, blushing. You realised Georgia was stood between your legs, her hands still on your waist from steadying you, making your heart flutter. 

“Nah,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s, I dunno, easier with you.”

You smiled widely at that, taking another drink from the nearly empty bottle to try and hide how hard you were blushing. 

“Hey, what was your friend saying, before?” she asked, wondering whether you were drunk enough to tell her.

“Oh, that,” you said, rolling your eyes, any kind of filter you had gone. “She was asking if you’re the footballer I’ve had a crush on for months.”

You clapped your hands over your mouth when you realised what you’d said. Georgia’s eyebrows were raised, a look of surprise on her face that was quickly replaced by a teasing smile.

“And, am I?” she asked, hands tightening a little on your waist. 

You swallowed, trying to think of something clever to say, but the alcohol was making it hard, especially when all you could really think about was the feeling of her hands on your waist and the fact that she was stood between your legs, close enough to kiss you. 

“Maybe,” you said, biting your lip. 

“Oh, just maybe?” she asked, all the alcohol giving her a boost of confidence. She watched your eyes flit from her eyes to her mouth and back, and leant forward slightly. 

You nodded shakily, heart racing as she leant towards you. She paused just short of your face, giving you space to back away if you wanted to, but you leant in enthusiastically, your lips meeting hers. 

You were a little too enthusiastic, your mouths bumping into each other, making you both giggle and pull away. Georgia was undeterred, and cupped your face with one hand, steadying you, before leaning in to kiss you. 

She tasted sweet, like fruit juice and alcohol, her soft lips perfectly melding against yours. You gasped when her tongue swiped against your bottom lip, and she took the opportunity to kiss you deeper, the hand that was still on your waist moving to your back to pull you closer. You wrapped your arms around her shoulders, jumping when you felt the soft onesie. 

She leant back. “You okay?” 

“Yeah, I just forgot about the onesie,” you admitted with a laugh. “Wasn’t expecting it.”

“You mean, the cat costume isn’t doing it for you?” she asked with a wink, and you wrinkled your nose. 

“I mean, the costume is cute and all, but if I’m honest, I think you’re the one doing it for me. After all, you are the footballer I have a crush on.” you said, making the brunette blush. The painted on nose and whiskers were smudged slightly from your kiss, and you giggled at the sight of her. 

“What?” she asked. “Is there something on my face?”

“Nah,” you shook your head, and pulled her in for another kiss.