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#not how i wanted to start off the new year
a-b-riddle · 2 days
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Part Three
Warning: If you don't like Taylor Swift, you're not gonna like this chapter that much, homie. But So Long, London is so fitting for this drabble series. (I guess a series since it's longer than a drabble at this point)
Can’t stop thinking about reader just trying to move on
You had to remind yourself several times not to check in with the guys. It had almost become second nature doing something big like this. But going to another country…
Not that they would care. You told yourself. It was for the best that way.
The expo went better than you expected. You didn’t believe that there would be a line out the door of eager readers wanting to read your book, but you got a decent amount. More than a few told you they couldn’t wait to read it. Several asking for photos and asking questions on any future books, a spin-off or even continuing the series.
When one a particular large group of girls your age asked for a group photo, you could have cried. They were had found each other in an online book club. You had given them your book several months ago. All copies signed with a note thanking them for taking the time to read what you had poured your heart into.
You had spent a large chunk of your free time talking to them. Bonding more so as women than over your book.
"Have you listened to Taylor's new album?"
It had only been out for two days and you had been able to avoid it like the plague. You didn't need to even listen to 'So Long, London' to know it would fucking gut you. So you would enjoy your time in the states. Save the listening experience for when you were packing up their stuff.
They had posted and tagged you before continuing on with the rest of the expo. You had reposted the photo to your own social media. Or at least one attached to the pen name you had crafted. You only had twelve thousand instagram followers, but it was something.
The first day was much like the second. You had attended several Q & A sessions with a panel of more experienced authors and managed to go to a few meet and greets. Before you knew it, it was time to pack up shop.
The agent the publishing house had assigned to you had stuck with you for most of the day. You were able to pick her brain a bit about new ideas for possible future plot lines and her thoughts. Overall, the trip was great.
Not only were you able to make great connections and take a lot back home with you to reference, but for a few days you forgot what waited for you back home. Or rather what wasn't waiting for you.
By the time your plane landed back in London you could barely hold yourself up. You left the expo, went straight to the hotel to shower, pack and head to the airport.
Your flight was delayed. Your luggage was taking forever to get onto the belt. It was only seven, but fuck if you weren’t ready to just call it a day. Tomorrow you would have to start again. Opening up the shop. Coming back to an empty flat. Maybe start gathering up the items the boys had left behind.
Should you give them in separate boxes or just one giant one and let them sort it out themselves? It was easy to discern whose sweatshirt and t-shirts belonged to who, but when it got to things like socks and chargers...
Yeah.
They could sort it themselves.
You could drop it off at Kyle's when you knew he would be at the gym. He was good at avoiding you anyway.
It wasn't until you stood in your apartment did it hit you.
You were alone.
For the first time in over a year you couldn't call one of them over to soothe that ache of loneliness.
For the first time in over a year, you had to relearn how to handle just being alone.
You usually showered at night. Washing away the grime of the day before settling into bed. But today was a new chapter. You woke up wanting to start it on a good note. Plus you went straight to bed after getting home so you still had a bit of airport funk on you.
It had been a week. One official since you had sent that text nailing the coffin shut. You had touched base with your friends who didn't bat an eye at you dating four men at once. They liked them, even if Simon scared them. You didn't give them the details of the breakup or the cause. You were pretty private in your problems and if you wanted relationship advice, you would seek an unbiased unopinion.
You had a good group of friends, but the moment you told them that you were well and truly heartbroken, they would insist the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. Something you were nowhere near ready for.
So you needed to look like you had your shit together. You put on a dress that was feminine and, most importantly, comfy as fuck. An A-line floral frock paired with a light sweater and some white trainers. You knew a few of your friends would be stopping by for tea so you need to look like you were taking the separation well. Even if you were barely holding it together.
With makeup and perfume on, you started the early morning stroll to your shop.
You loved openings. Starting up the register and selecting the playlist for today. Picking out the essential oil to put in the diffuser even though you mostly stuck with a lavender and vanilla blend during the spring months.
For the morning you stuck with a Taylor Swift Instrumental playlist you had found initially for studying, but you liked the peaceful feeling it brought. Even when it covered the most gut wrenching songs.
You had started to collect the online orders that had accumulated over the last week. Sending out the e-mails alerting to your patrons that their orders were ready for pick up. Luckily you weren't set to receive a delivery until tomorrow.
It was eight and everything was set. Although not many people came to a bookstore at eight in the morning, it really didn't bother you opening up that early considering you were the only employee that was on the payroll. It gave you the possibility of making money, but mostly you spent the morning reading or writing.
You flipped the sign over from CLOSED to OPEN. Ready to start take on the day.
You had turned the kettle on in the back room when your friends had stopped by around lunch. You always said it was just tea, but you always had an array of snacks on standby for you all to munch on.
Meredith was complaining about what a dick the new client at the law firm was being. An absolute slime who had been married to his wife for almost twenty-five years before he decided to fuck his twenty-two year old assistant.
Tabitha didn't want to talk about work. To her, her career in tech was just a paycheck. She did what she needed to do and left when she was done.
You talked about the expo and how your book. Although neither of them really read, they had promised that they would read your book. You didn't hold your breath. They had reposted your posts as well as making ones of their owns in celebration of you. Words of praise about your dedication and hard work.
You realized that even though they couldn't give you the support you needed as readers, they supported you blindly. You could have written absolute garbage, but they would still support you.
You talked about how many people liked your book and wanted pictures and to sign their copies.
Then came the question you had been rehearsing since you had texted them a week ago. They both shared a look before Meredith finally asked.
"How are you holding up?" You gave a half-smile and a shrug. So perfectly rehearsed in your head you were ready to deliver your lies lines.
"I'm fine," you lied. "It was just fading so there isn't much of a difference, I guess." Not necessarily a lie. "We just wanted different things and were on different paths in life." Not a lie. "It's for the best." You weren't sure if that last one was a lie or not just yet.
They both shared a passing look before returning their gazes back to you. "You know you can come to us about this stuff." Tabitha's hand reached across the table, placing a hand on top of yours.
"It wasn't going to work out." You added. "Situations like that don't and I should have known better."
"A situation?" Meredith asked. "When have you ever called it a situation?"
"It always was one."
"I love you enough to call bullshit." She raised her eyebrow at you, crossing her arms over her chest. "You loved them and you need to stop pretending this is easy."
"You're a divorce lawyer, Mere," You reminded. "You see marriages fall apart every day."
"I do. I get to see from across the table how a woman is still willing to take her cheating arse of a husband back. So the fact that you went from on cloud nine with all of them to not even talking about the break up is concerning to say the least."
"Tabitha," you looked at your only ally left. "A little back up would be nice."
"I'm with her on this one." She confirmed. "You loved them. Not that I cared, but if you weren't talking about books or the shop, you were talking about them. What you did, where you went. How they fucked you."
"I think I'll miss that part the most." Mere sighed. "I lived vicariously through you."
"You know you could actually date people." Tabitha suggested.
"I'd rather live with chronic carpal tunnel than a man." You almost choked on your tea. If you were wearing pearls you would have used the comedic relief of clutching them to break the awkwardness of the current topic of conversation.
"That should be put on a t-shirt." You suggested
"I wouldn't mind it on a welcome mat to be honest." Tabitha added.
"But in all seriousness, cut this bullshit." Meredith gave you an sympathetic smile. "We're here. Good, bad and ugly."
You returned her smile. "I know."
You had closed up shop for the evening. Your lunch had gone longer than expected so now you were left doing the dishes and clean up during closing. You were setting the last cup on the drying rack when you heard the front door chime.
Shit.
You must have forgotten to lock the door when you turned the sign.
“I’m sorry!” You apologized, making your way out of the back break area and to the front of the store. “We’re-”
“Closed.” He said, locking the door behind him. “I saw the sign.”
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asapeveryday · 2 days
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Breath Me In
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Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader
Warnings: Smut (Fingering), weed, alcohol
Summary: Uconn’s end of summer party brings you all sorts of highs.
A/n: can you tell I like party settings??? Anyways. We need more fics of Paige receiving instead of always giving pls!! Someone please this girl!
Summer is coming to a close. Long August days turn to colder September nights, and the students of Uconn have mostly moved in for the new semester. A new year of college calls for a party.
Uconns annual end-of-summer party was an absolute staple to attend for seniors, richer students who lived in housing nearby often responsible for hosting. Summery rap and pop blasting, coolers and twisted tea by the gallons, string lights in big green backyards, patio furniture overrun by couples making out or slowly sobering up. It was a sight to behold, and you relished in the feeling of this, the beginning of the end of school.
When you make your way throughout the house, various people stop to talk to you, including the hostess herself.
Stella DeSantos is a trust fund girl who’s in her senior year for sports marketing, and this years lucky party organizer. She has the means, obviously, because the house is massive.
“So… gonna start the year off with some dick or what?” She laughs, already tipsy.
You just smile and shake your head. “I’m chill right now.” Is your reply. Honestly you just didn’t want to pull the ‘id rather have pussy’ card on her.
The girl swings an arm around you. “I could set you up with some really athletic guys if that’s your thing.” She hiccups. “Want a drink?”
She thrusts a mango white claw into your hand and you take it reluctantly. As much as you loved getting wasted the party was a bit too rowdy to feel comfortable. You were desperately searching for someone you knew well enough to hang out with that wasn’t already drunk, with no luck.
You stick by Stella for a while, standing by as she greets people and gets drunker by the minute. You’re still holding the same White-claw, though it’s mostly empty.
You’re scoping out the scene yourself, the house is filled with kids you’ve been in school with for the past years. Your gaze stops in the kitchen, where two girls reside. One tall with dark skin, hair slicked back and clothes baggy. You’d had classes with Aubrey Griffin before, she was intimidating but attractive.
The other girl was paler and slightly shorter, blonde hair tied back into a bun and glasses on her face.
“Paige!” Stella calls out, as if sensing your thoughts. She makes her way over to the two girls and you awkwardly follow behind. Everyone knows Paige Bueckers. She’s one of those students, everyone mostly likes her and she’s friends with all the right people. It puzzled you how someone so gay still attracted so many guys.
Stella talks to Aubrey and Paige, and they politely engage despite obviously being thrown off by how drunk she is. Their shared looks almost make you laugh. You take this as a chance to get a good look at Paige. She mostly stayed out of trouble or tough rumours, and kept to her main group of friends, so aside from her talent on the court you knew almost nothing.
You let yourself stare at her, noting her blue eyes, long lashes and wide smile. She carried herself confidently, but looked uncomfortable.
Finally she turns to meet your eye, and when her tongue flashes out to wet her lips you physically feel something in your stomach drop.
“You her babysitter or something?” She smirks.
“You’d think she knows how much she can handle by now.” You scoff. Stella barely notices, fully talking to Aubrey.
Paige’s eyes dart to the drink in your hand. “Good luck finding a ride home tonight.”
Before you can respond, maybe by telling her your name or sparking better conversation, Stella’s attention is drawn somewhere else and she starts to drag you away.
You turn to get one last look at Paige, and internally celebrate when your eyes meet.
-
As the summer sun finally began to set, it got a little too cold for everyone to be outside. The inside of the house was absolutely packed, the music was louder and the air was thicker. The smell of smoke and sound of people was starting to irritate you, but for whatever reason you didn’t want to leave just yet.
Stella was nowhere to be found and you were sitting on the kitchen counter next to some other girls, quietly sipping some drink while listening in to conversations. The original plan of staying mostly sober was ruined by your boredom, and though you weren’t drunk you felt significantly warmer and a little more confident.
“Oh, it’s you again.” A voice says. You turn to see it’s Paige and your heart skips a beat.
“I have a name.” You reply, not caring if you come off rude. She doesn’t seem to care either, just raising her eyebrows at you. “And it is?”
You tell her your name and she repeats it to herself with a smile. “I’m Paige.”
“I figured.” You laugh. The alcohol was making everything seem like less of a deal, had you talked to her more before you probably wouldn’t have been so casual.
“You drunk?” She asks, leaning against the counter across from you. At this angle you’re pretty much looking down at her, she looks cuter with her eyes wide and head tilted slightly upwards. You almost let your imagination get ahead of you.
“Getting there. You?”
Paige shakes her head no. “You don’t seem like much of a drinker.”
With a shrug, you say “This party is less fun than I thought it would be.”
“I’m gonna head outside if you’re tryna come.” She shrugs back.
You hop off of the counter and are reminded of the fact that Paige isn’t short. She seems happy that she’s not looking up at you anymore.
“Sure, why not.” You smile.
She leads you to the backyard and the sudden quiet is surprising. The music is muffled and the air is fresher, it’s a beautiful night and the yard is empty for the two of you. Paige heads straight for the pool, sitting down by the edge of the deep end and taking off her shoes, letting her legs dangle in the water. You join her and do the same.
“So you came to a party and you’re not drinking or getting high?” You ask her.
“Ah ah,” she smirks. “I’m getting high for sure, jus had to be a little sneaky. You can keep a secret, right?” Paige tilts her head at you, and you almost melt right there and then.
“I’m great at keeping secrets.” You eye her, tilting your head like she does. “But can all those people?” You gesture to the kids inside the house.
“Everyone in there is gonna be too drunk to remember me sneaking out for a blunt with a girl.” She finally breaks eye contact, reaching into her pocket for a tin of pre-rolled blunts.
She said ‘with a girl’ like her being with you could be a topic of conversation. The thought makes your mind race.
When Paige lights up and gets the first hit, her whole composure loosens.
The blue from the pool water reflecting onto her face, the slight glow of the blunt against her lips, the way she blows the smoke afterwards. It’s driving you insane.
You stare at your legs in the water, her pale ones next to yours. The night is beautiful. She’s beautiful. You wonder if she’ll remember anything tomorrow.
“Want sum?” Paige interrupts your thoughts, holding out the blunt. You know you shouldn’t mix weed with alcohol, but your heart is buzzing and her lips had already been on it, so you can’t say no.
Taking it from her nimble fingers (which you cursed yourself for even noticing) you inhale, letting the smoke fill you up before letting out a long breath, trying to ignore her sharp eyes on you.
“I’m surprised I haven’t noticed you around before.” She says, taking back the blunt. You let the statement linger in the air. For every hit you take, she takes three. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are already slightly pink.
“Are you not the noticing type?” You ask.
Paige’s eyes meet yours. “Are you?”
You laugh and take the blunt from her, holding the smoke in before tilting your head back and blowing it into the night sky.
“I notice a lot of things.” you say, glancing at her lips before meeting her eyes again.
“Oh yeah?” She says quietly, analyzing your features. If it weren’t for the drinks and the weed, you would’ve felt like prey under her watch.
“Yeah.” You match her tone.
She’s closer than you remember her being. The air smells like weed and chlorine, but she smells like summer.
Nobody says anything, you just keep passing the blunt.
“What was your first time getting high like?” You ask her.
“Freshman year, me and some other girls on my team decided we were gonna do it together.” She chuckles and shakes her head. “Don’t know why we started with edibles, but we were still high the next morning.”
“Oh shit.” You laugh.
“Yeah,” she huffs “and we had practice that afternoon, must’ve gone through like 3 bottles of eye drops each. What about you?”
“Senior year of high school.” You cringe and she smiles at your expression. “My girlfriend- at the time, was kind of addicted. Didn’t seem like a big deal then, but she begged me to smoke and I did. It was whatever.”
“Girlfriend?” She asks.
“You’re surprised?” You chuckle. “Shit, you really don’t notice anything.”
“Shut up.” She flicks your shoulder. “Any girlfriend now?”
“Fuck no.”
“I feel that.” She blows smoke into the crisp air. There’s a moment of comfortable silence, you looking into the water and her looking at you, before she finally says “Can I try something?”
“Like what?” You ask.
You can tell her thinking is slightly hazy, she’s moving slower and her eyes are tired, it’s attractive.
“Lemme jus show you…don’t freak.”
Paige takes a hit, then leans into you. In an instance her lips are on yours, prying you open and exhaling smoke into your mouth, then she pulls away. You resist the urge to choke, but manage to exhale smoothly. Your lips tingle where she made contact with you, and you feel your face get red at her expression. Paige is practically entranced.
“Little warning would’ve been better next time.” You cough.
“We can try again if you want.” She smirks, and you roll your eyes.
Once again Paige takes a hit then leans into you, this time placing her hand on your face. She huffs the smoke inside your mouth and you gladly take it, now knowing what to expect. When she pulls away you don’t turn your head, you just blow out the smoke, letting it cloud both your vision and hers. When it clears she’s staring dead at your lips.
Her lips meet yours again, this time without any weed. She’s taking her time with you, tongue exploring your mouth attentively, one hand still on your face while the other finds your thigh.
Her hands are calloused and controlled against your skin, her glasses bump your face as you kiss her. Her lips are soft.
You let your hands wander too, dancing under her black t-shirt and gripping her waist. You can feel her abs, toned from her athletic lifestyle. You can only imagine the things you could do with her abs alone.
Her hand leaves your thigh and meets yours under her shirt, gripping your wrist she guides you to her sports bra, letting you get under it and feel her breasts.
She sighs into your mouth when you lightly pinch her nipples, her usually confident voice now almost needy.
Paige’s kisses trail down to your neck, licking and biting into your soft skin. You let your fingers ghost against her until they reach the waistband of her sweatshorts.
“Can I?” You whisper, eager to feel her.
“Fuck, yes.” She murmurs against you, sucking beautifully painted hickeys from your neck to your collarbone.
When your fingers rub her through her boxers you can hear her breathing change, and it’s doing things to you. Rubbing slow circles on her clit, you feel yourself getting wet.
“You let every girl down your pants, Paige?” You mumble. She stares up at you, eyes wide and bloodshot.
You relish in the way she bites her lip when your pace quickens, you can feel her slick through the boxer briefs and you can’t help but tease her. “So wet already…”
Finally you let your hand slip into her briefs, finding her entrance and teasing around her hole. Her hips jerk upwards, giving you room to move, offering herself to you. “Stop talking.” She grumbles, cheeks pink with embarrassment.
You connect with her lips again as your fingers finally dip inside of her, causing her to let a soft moan out. You realize suddenly that anyone inside the house could come outside and see you two, but with all the weed and alcohol you couldn’t care less, you couldn’t stop now, not when Paige was grinding against your fingers and letting out sweet whimpers into your mouth, her hands feeling you all over.
Breaking the kiss is the best decision you make, because you can actually see her. Her face is perfect, hair falling out of her bun, glasses sliding down her nose, her expression a sexy, needy pout, her tongue darting out to lick her lips.
You pick up the pace, pumping your fingers in and out of her and grinning as her whimpers get a little louder. The noise of her slick, her voice, the crickets outside and the muffled music is almost magical to you. Her blue eyes shining and glossy from the weed and the reflection of the water.
“Fuck.” She murmurs, covering her mouth. “Oh, fuck.”
Her hips are violently bucking now as you curl your fingers inside of her and use your thumb to apply pressure to her clit. Her eyes are screwed shut now, and you can tell she’s close.
“Gonna cum for me Paige? Cmon baby, let it out.”
She calls out your name, legs open and pussy throbbing against your fingers. Finally she loosens around you, reaching her orgasm.
She’s still clinging to your body and catching her breath when you pull your hand out from her shorts, licking your fingers like you’ve just finished a meal. Paige’s eyes are trained on your lips wrapped around the same digits that were just inside of her.
You just smile at her staring. “You good?” You ask her. She just chuckles and takes off her shirt. “I’m good. Might needa cool down though.” Paige eyes you as she slips into the pool.
You laugh and take your shirt off too, slipping into the cold water with her.
It’s a good night, filling your lungs with her, breathing Paige in.
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chrissshub · 19 hours
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KAMA SUTRA SESSIONS!
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°❀°•༢ ❥ SYNOPSIS: When you get an appointment from a passing athlete who wants to better his game with women, who's better to answer the call than the resident sęx therapist?
°❀°•༢ ❥ CW: 8.7k words, told in first person, sẽx therapist!fem!reader, post timeskip!ushijima, not mentioned but ages are both 26, use of an oc, dialogue-heavy, pwp, peņetration, cunnilīngus, fiňgering, sqûirting, implied size difference, unprotected
°❀°•༢ ❥ DEAR READER, FROM CHRIS: So this was inspired by my most recent field of study: s*x and the kama sutra. and from my research and thinking "hm, who would have an interest in this?" is how this fic came to be. hope you enjoy!
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In the life as a sex therapist, there’s some things that you hear, see, and even experience that add years to the career. 
 At first, I thought it was going to be a failed business move, considering that sex is seen as a taboo topic by some. I mean, it’s a process as natural as birth but people shame it with such strong resentment…like it’s an unimaginable evil that’s ruining the world.
I couldn’t help but to think my discouragement was properly placed. I was in a town with families, retirees, no one that would really need my advice.
That “failed business move” of a thought lasted all of a week. 
Thanks to the small pickett signs I personally had made and placed around the office building’s parking lot and nearby plazas, I had clients booking with me by the hour. 
Couples of all ages—some married, some divorced, many singles, even polyamorous groupings contacted my office. 
When people heard of a new sex therapist entering the area and started booking sessions with me, I could only wish to know what was going through their minds.
I’ve dealt with teary confessions about how wives have lost attraction for their husbands, husbands who come to terms with the fact that they don’t know how to please their wives. I’ve even gotten singles who’ve come in just to make sure they still know how to perform in the bedroom. 
In these past four years, I’ve learned that just because people shun the idea of sex and sexual education during the day, they’ll come on their hands and knees at night. It’s been an interesting ride, but I can proudly say that I’ve helped many people in the area rekindle their sparkle and to finally achieve their goals with their partners.
The days I’ve spent at the office were nothing short of fulfilling—and today was supposed to be like no other.
Supposed to, of course.
My day started out like normal; waking up in my bed with my eyes fluttering open. The first thing I settled my hazy squint  onto was the rays of sunlight peeking through my creme shutters, begging to illuminate my room. 
I pried my hand from underneath my pillow to grab my phone off on my bedside table, the screen greeting me with a single message: 
(1) VOICEMAIL FROM: Hana
Hana, my cheeky, bright-eyed, receptionist. She joined me when she was a freshman at the local community college, just taking classes until she figured out what she wanted to do with her life. Fast-forward to today, she’s a fresh graduate with a bachelors in psychology. 
She’s taken it upon herself to call her around 6 A.M every day with a debrief of the day ahead. When I asked her why she does it, the sweet girl simply told me the extra effort was the least she could do. 
Since then, I’ve bumped her pay high enough so that she can support herself by herself and haven’t pressed the topic a vowel further.
With my debriefing at hand, I sat up in my bed, sleep still lingering behind my eyelids. I have half a mind to cancel whatever appointments I have today and sleep just for an hour more. But when I looked down at the time on my screen, it was a reality I knew I couldn’t afford.
9:00 A.M.
My office opened in an hour and my first appointment always starts at 10:30…bless me.
“Okay, Hana, let’s see what you have for me,” I mumbled as I clicked on the awaiting tab. 
As my thumb pressed the play button, Hana’s voice instantly became my background noise for my morning routine—which began in the bathroom for a shower.
“‘Morning, Y/N! Hope you slept well! I have good news and bad news for you. And no, I can’t give you the bad news first because it’s intertwined with the good news. So for starters, you have a light day—one appointment! Bad news…and this is a first for us…this client booked you for a few hours.”
“Hours?!? What the fu—“
Just hearing that made me pop my head from behind the glass shower door. Clients usually meet with me for an hour, an hour and a half if needed but hours???
“I know exactly what you’re thinking because…what the fuck?? But when I explain more about him, I think you’ll be impressed.”
“Okay, you’ve got a bit of a celebrity on your hands today. This one is Ushijima Wakatoshi. He’s 26, a player for the Schweiden Alders…a professional volleyball team. He’s playing a game against our national team and is gonna be in town for a few days. He booked with you because, and this is in his words, he says that he’s a little “awkward in the realm of love and wants to improve his social skills and….intimate skills.” He also sent over test results…he’s clean, just to let you know . So…have fun with this one!”
And just like that, Hana’s cheery voice was reduced to naught, melding with the stillness of my bathroom. 
I turned off the water, standing in a foggy haze. There was only one thought in my mind: 
Well then, Ushijima Wakatoshi…let’s start the day together right.
✧─── ・ 。゚★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧
“Hana! Oh my sweet flower, I brought your favorite♪!” I sang, entering through the office’s  front door.
Hana lifted her head from behind the monitor, her bright smile complementing my own. 
“An omlettle with cheese and hash browns on the side?!?” She squealed, jumping from her seat. 
“Mhm! Enjoy!”
Before I could take a step further, Hana ran to greet me with a hug, her curly black hair dusting along my chest. 
“Thank you, Thank you!” She cheered, stepping back from me. She quickly took the stuffed brown bag from my hands before returning to her desk. 
With a fading grin, I turned my attention down towards my top, a fitted rose dress shirt with just a few top buttons left undone. I wiped a few wrinkles away, shifting my attention down to my  black pressed slacks that didn't face the same fate. 
Still just as fresh and clean as when I left my apartment.
“So,” I began as I walked towards Hana. “How much do I have before our guest checks in?”
“Mmm, about 20. But Y/N…he’s so hot! I looked him up and wow! Like…I’m kinda confused how he’s having issues with girls. I’m sure the women at his matches throw themselves at him,” Hana gushed between a bite of her omelette.
I leaned against the rim of the desk, resting my red leather purse and my hips along the surface.
“Oh, you know how it goes. Looks can get you far, but it’s your words and actions that determine your success. I bet he does look good, but he probably needs more work on his confidence.”
“Ah, true. Well, you go tidy up your office and I’ll run the vacuum out here in a few,” Hana said, her hand shooing me away.
I grabbed my bag and giggled, “Okay, okay! But—“
I couldn’t even finish my thought when the front door tolled open, gaining a stare out of Hana and me.
“Um…excuse me…I’m here for Dr. L/N. I have an appointment at 10:30, but I just wanted to show up a little early,” the deep voice announced.
I turned my head to meet the owner behind such a voice, just for my eyes to be stunned at the sight.
A man, a tall one at that. He stood in the middle of the office with a straight face, staring back at Hana and I. His hair was a shade of brown unique to him only, brushed back to reveal his entire face. His features were strong—his jawline sharp, his cheekbones high, brows trimmed and clean,  his eyes glimmering like that of a polished citrine gem. 
Hana was right…he really was something to marvel at.
He stood with his hands behind his back, impassively waiting for someone to reply—or not, he really seemed unbothered.
I didn’t even need to guess what his physique could be underneath such proper garb. Those  muscles weren’t shy of peeking  beneath the navy suit he wore. The white dress shirt beneath was crisp, and no tie was in sight —which I guess is casual to him.
I bit my lip softly, I’ve never been intimidated by a man before, but this one made my face swell with a wafting heat. So this is Ushijima Wakatoshi…the name fits him perfectly.
Nonetheless, I had a job to do.
I rolled my shoulders back and began a few short steps towards him, the click of my heels slienced against the plush sage green carpet. 
There I was, standing before him. My height met him just beneath his collar—and that’s thanks to my heels. I held my hand out to him, my glossed lips curling into a rich smile. 
“Mr. Ushijima, it’s so nice to meet you! I’m Dr. L/N, but Y/N works just fine. This is Hana, my lovely receptionist.”
His hand was rough and worked, but slid against my palm like butter, his warmth melding into my touch. His thumb sat past my own, the rough pad swiping ever so softly along my skin. When my eyes finally eased from their shared smile as my lips, I couldn’t look away from him. 
His own gaze was captivating, almost entrapping me in a trace of just him and I. I watched as his lips curled into a faint smile, a brief flash of white meeting my eyes.
“Oh, Y/N, it’s wonderful to meet you! Please, feel free to call me Ushijima or Wakatoshi! I’ve been waiting for this appointment for a while now.. 
He broke away from our contact to give his attention to Hana, waving to her with his other hand.
“And it’s nice to meet you too, Hana! Thank you for your hard work!”
I didn’t need to look back to know the look on Hana’s face: she’s a flustered mess with her tongue  caught in a shudder.
“O-Oh…thanks, sir! It’s not without Y/N, though. I c-can tell you that you’ll be in…great hands!.”
Ushijima turned his sights back towards me, that muted curl of his lips growing into a full-bodied smile at last. 
“I sure hope so.”
I gave Ushijima one last smile before taking my hand away from his, my hands clasping together. 
“Let’s begin! I’ll bring you back and we’ll get on,” I announced, turning away from Ushijima. 
As I passed by the desk, I grabbed my bag and gave Hana a swift smirk, one she returned with a wink. 
Ushijima and I descended down the hall until we arrived to a room a door down from my office, room 165.
I turned the doorknob as I leaned against the white door, “Come on in.”
Ushijima nodded as he passed me, the faint scent of his cologne whisked past my nose. It’s rich—bergamot, some sage, amber, and even a hint of vanilla. That’s a good mix, and his body isn’t rejecting it, a man who knows his signature scent is a rare one these days.
The room I bought us to was of decent size—about the size of a child’s bedroom. The walls were handpainted by Hana and I some years ago, a soft peach with white carpeting. The furniture was all espresso colored, from the two leather seats that faced one another, the coffee table between the two, and the bookshelf that stood against the window.
It was a pretty comfy room, one that many current and past clients raved about. 
“Pick your side and get comfortable, we’re gonna be here awhile,” I teased, closing the door behind me. 
“I must apologize for that. I heard about you some time ago during a tournament and I’ve always wanted to have a sit down with you. And since I don’t come to the States often, I thought it was best to have an ample amount of time with you,” Ushijima confessed as he settled into the leather arm chair.
I followed suit, placing my bag onto the table as I sank into the seat. 
“Oh, don’t apologize! You’re actually my only client today, so we can take up all day if need be. I want you to leave here confident and more sure of yourself. Which brings me to my first question…”
I folded my legs over one other, resting my hands within my lap. My eyes settled over Ushijima, not with the same set that marveled at him just minutes before. This time, I excused his attraction for purpose, preparing myself to ask the timeless question:
“What brings you in today?”
Ushijima brought himself to sit up in his seat, his large hands drifting to brace his clothed thigh.
“Well, put shortly—I wanna get better with women. I can’t talk to them, and then I see my teammates—they can strike up a conversation with them so easily. And women do talk to me, but it’s just not…oh how can I put this…with substance?”
“What do women say to you?” I asked, leaning back into the couch.
“Just talk about my looks, or how impressed they are. I’ve heard it one too many times, it gets tiring. I know they’re just trying to make conversation with me by complimenting me, but those things just bore me. My teammates love that kind of attention, but it all seems pointless to me.”
“And why is that?”
“Because,” Ushijima sighed. “It’s just going to go nowhere. I’m not into hooking up, the thought bores me honestly. I mean, I feel that you don’t get the best of someone after one night, especially if your goal is just sex.”
“So then Ushijima—”
“Wakatoshi…please call me, Wakatoshi,” Ushijima intervened, a feeble smile creeping onto his face.
“Okay…Wakatoshi, call me Y/N. Doctor is just too formal for me,” I added. “But it still begs the question, Wakatoshi: What are you looking for?”
“As in my romantic goals or my type?” 
“Both work perfectly! Your interests do tie into your romantic goals,” I informed him.
Now, it’s so unbecoming of me to ask a client what their type is…but Ushijima is such a special case that I’ll overlook just this once.
After posing the question to him, Ushijima took a moment of silence to ponder, his eyes narrowing down on me.
“My type is…smart. Really smart. A put together woman with a good sense of humor. I’m more on the rigid side but I do appreciate a woman who can find joy in things. Her beauty goes without saying, so basically—a woman of substance.”
“Okay, sounds—
“What’s your type?”
Just the query to catch me off my guard…and pique my interest. In all my years, I’ve never had a client return any of my questions to me; I didn’t think Ushijima would be the first. 
My cheeks flickered with heat, but I found comfort within the moment by biting my tongue softly. My eyes were pinned on him, Ushijima still wearing that blank yet firm expression on his face— neutral eyes, brows stilled and his mouth free of any curl or twitch.
Just a peaceful face behind a stinging question.
“I don’t see how that matters…?” I said, staring at Ushijima through a razor-sharp squint.
“But it does matter. It’s not a hard question unless you make it one,” he continued. “What’s your type of man, Y/N? It’d be nice to know, since we’re gonna be here awhile together.”
A grin perked up onto his lips, the cracks of pearly white teeth breaking onto the scene.
 “Can’t I ask you some questions too?”
My lips broke apart between a brewing sigh, the tip of my tongue pressed against the gummy flesh of my cheek. I can’t deny him to be honest, we are stuck here for some time, and this session couldn’t continued as a one sided conversation forever.
“Alright, my type…my type…. I like a tall man, a nice athletic build, keeps himself well kept. As far as personality: smart, kind, respectful, responsible, and thoughtful. Thoughtfulness, however, is a big one for me. It’s nice to know you mean so much to someone that they would take actions out of that place of love. That’s quite admirable in my eyes.”
There was an air of silence between Ushijima and I. He sat still and I did the same. Our eyes hadn’t broken from each other either, yet the softening hues of olive green made me feel calm beneath Ushijima’s gaze. 
But this was an appointment, not a staring contest. I was the first to break the silence.
“A-hem..Um… well, I digress, let’s continue,” I choked out. 
I broke the eye contact Ushijima and I worked so hard to maintain with a simple blink, searching for the next territory of topic to enter. 
“So where did we—talked about types…but that’s not exactly helpful in the slightest. I know you wanted to address conversation too, but can you explain a little bit more?”
Ushijima nodded calmly, but that wasn’t all I got from him. Vunerabilty was one hell of a feeling, and it dusted the highs of his cheeks red. And as his skin began to run hot, Ushijima himself grew antsy, his hand coming to rub at  the nape of his neck. 
But…it was cute to me. The emotions I see on a daily basis are pride, sadness, anger—but embarrassment is a rare one that I can always appreciate. 
 “I…I don’t know how to flirt. It’s always awkward and I honestly feel stupid,” he mumbled, his stare pinned down at his pants. 
“I hear you,” I consoled, a faint smile crowding at my lips.
“It’s such an unspoken realm that everyone is expected to know how to do but with no explanation. Flirting is something that is also unique to each person. It  can be acts of kindness, giving compliments,—or the complete opposite. Some people like to tease, play rough, or even act cold as a form of flirting.”
Ushijima followed along with me, nodding his head every so often. 
“So then, what is the best way of flirting?” He asked.
“Well, I can’t say. —
“Let me rephrase,” He interjected. “What would a man have to do or say to you in order for you to be interested in him?”
“Wit.”
“Wit?”
“Yeah, I love witty, intelligent conversations. It could be anything and I’ll find interest in it. Just being able to express your intelligence to me—whether it be on topic you know or asking questions, I love it all. I guess to keep it short, the mind and how a man expresses his knowledge is what gets me interested.”
The presence of a faint grin lit up Ushijima’s face.
“That’s what it takes, hm…”
An air of enticement bled into the room and it shamefully claimed me as its victim. I’ll admit, I’ve never had a client as interesting as Ushijima. Aside from his genuine intrigue about sex and the ways of courting, he seems to have something more on his mind—and I wanted to know every single detail. But he plays along too well, thanks to that blank expression he wears so proudly. But he slipped up with that damn grin, now it’s my turn to play the next hand. 
I placed my hand on the open cushion beside me, the tips of my fingers drumming along the leather surface.
“Come sit, let’s do an exercise…just so it really sinks in. Maybe you’ll be able to use this as reference for the next lady that catches your eye.”
And just like that, Ushijima was swift to oblige. I was hooked on the sight of him standing from his seat, his hand toying with the buttons of his blazer. The white dress shirt he wore was finally revealed to me, the subtle hints of his muscular frame peeking through. 
His steps were calm and controlled, carefully trudging around the glass coffee table. Ushijima held himself with a confidence unmatched to any man I’ve met thus far. He was interesting to observe, and even more fun to tease. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interested in seeing how far we could go, all kinds of thoughts were plaguing my mind. 
As he stood over me,  I had to bite back a smile, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip. 
This was turning out to be an interesting session, after all.
Ushijima placed himself on the couch at an arm’s length away, leaving an untasteful gap amongst us. Yet when my eyes had fallen on his stoic face, the man’s fair skin was budding with the innocence of pink. 
“Well don’t be shy, Wakatoshi,” I cooed. My hand patted at the spot just beside my thigh, hinting for him to move closer. 
“We are here together for quite some time, might as well get…a little close.”
With a firm nod, Ushjima bridged the gap between strangers to acquanitances among us, his body now resting snug at my side. He had yet to face me, as if he was embarrassed to do. I noticed that he kept his hands in his lap, his digits nervously fiddling around. 
I reached over to his hand, softly grazing along the back of his hand to ease his worries.
“Ushijima? You ready? We don’t have to do this, if you’re not comfortable—”
“No, let’s do it,” he huffed, his body turned towards me. “What kind of exercise are we doing?” He asked, turning his body to face me.
“Great! For the exercise, let’s pretend we’re meeting at…oh, I dunno, a bar. Do your best to try and ask me out on a date.”
“Um…Y/N…you do realize that the fact that I can’t ask anyone on a date is why we’re here, right?”
“Yes…I do, thank you for that. Use your imagination—a bar has ambiance lighting, soft music, drinks on rotation, play on the environment, and make a good impression, okay?”
Ushijima sat in silence for a moment, his eyes narrowing as the seconds passed. I could assume that he was thinking—really thinking at that. 
I almost pulled into my own daze of boredom, the color of the walls catching my eye—until the quiet mumble of his voice broke the stilled air. 
“Well…what do you drink at a bar?”
I tucked my leg beneath me as I shifted myself to give Ushijima my full and undivided attention. He mirrored me, turning so that we were both facing one another. Yet again, our eyes locked, unwilling to falter from the view we had of one another.
“I usually go for a glass of wine, I’m not a fan of heavy liquor.”
“Wine’s a good choice. Are you someone who pairs wine with food?”
I shook my head, “Not really. But, I do know that red wine goes best with some fruits, chocolate, and steak. Rosé goes best with grilled vegetables or salmon, and white is the best of both worlds.”
“Oh really?” Ushijima hummed. “I never realized wine could be so specific. Since you know so much, why not put your knowledge to the test?”
“And how are we gonna do that?”
A soft smile grew across Ushijima’s lips. He seemed to relax a bit–his shoulders laxed, his side now resting against the couch’s back cushions, he even shifted a bit closer to me too; all of which made me ease up too. I wasn’t feeling as guilty as I was before–if anything, I was pleased with the way our exercise was going.
Ushijima has such a nice, easy voice that greets the ear so kindly, and his eyes were just so alluring to stare into, I could sit here for hours just watching how his moss green hues catch the light of every hour. Not to mention that the scent of his cologne was finally welcomed into the scene, just wafting past my nose every so often. 
He had all the making of an ideal guy, so why isn’t he–
“I know a place near here, a nice restaurant with a wine cellar in the basement,” he led on. “ They have collections that date back years, and from what I know, the darker the wine, the richer…no, the sweeter it drips on the tongue. I’d like to hear your thoughts in a…professional setting, if you may.”
“I’d like that,” I nodded, a curling grin consuming my senses. “I’m sure you’d have some thoughts to tell me too.”
Ushijima shrugged, his hand coming to brace the pulse of his neck. “Honestly, there’s a lot on my mind I could tell you so much right now, but then…well…we might not make it to the restaurant. And I’m just dying to pour you a glass of wine, so…for now I’ll be paitent.”
I pushed my lips into a wading pout. I could feel my eyes softening beneath his gaze. He could find the time to tease me back while flustered like this…interesting.
“And what if I don’t have the same patience?” I pried, a sly smirk pressed onto my lips.
That’s when Ushijima sealed the end of our improv scene, bringing his hull of a body to overshadow my own. His lips came to fill the shell of my ear with an esteemed chuckle. His breath painted against my skin, awakening my nerves to greet him. I was helpless, at his every whim—and not a fiber in me wanted it any other way. 
“Then I’ll just have to tease you ‘til you break…right?”
He drew himself back gradually, our dilated eyes catching sight of each other once more. I was at a loss for words, my lips agape beneath the heat of shock.  At that moment, all I could think about what would follow—his lips crashing into mine, his hands bracing every curve of my body. I wanted to be under him, to have to stare up into those eyes to plead for relief from the stirring heat flaring about my body. 
But then again, this isn’t some magic fairytale…it’s an appointment.
“How was that?” He asked, his words breaking my sinful chain of thought. 
“Good,” I complimented, hiding my roused thoughts behind a smile. “You’ll most definitely get a date like that.”
“Well, I might have gotten the date, but I wanna be able to…y’know…”
“To what, Ushijima? You gotta be a little more clear than that,” I smirked. 
His skin began to flush itself of its tan shade in lieu of the trickles of rose dotting the highs of his cheek. 
“To…please a woman.”
“Please? Like…please and thank you? I hate speaking in code…especially in a professional setting.” I continued to press. 
If I had known he was so shy towards the topic of sex earlier, then we would’ve been able to ease into it. But for him to tease me like that…it’s only fair I return the gracious favor.
Ushijima’s eyes shot wide, a gasp breaking his lips apart. He was reluctant, but he gave in, biting at his bottom lip.
“Fine…I wanna know how to be good at sex…happy?”
“Oh, well to be good at sex is just the same as being a good lover. And I can show you how with this…" I trailed off.
 I quickly rose from my spot on the couch, setting my sights on my bookcase. A few steps brought in front of the shelved plethora of knowledge, eyes searching for the spine of the book needed for the moment.
"Ah! Here we are," my hand plucking out the book from its peers. 
“This…is the Kama Sutra. It’s an ancient Indian text written by the Hindu philosopher, Vātsyāyana Mallanaga; that explains how both men and women can lead rich sexual and social lifestyles. The Kama Sutra has become associated with sex positions over the years, but it doesn’t make it a heavy presence within the book.”
I returned to Ushijima’s side, seating myself beside him with the book in tow. I rested the Kama Sutra on his lap, allowing him to absorb the famed text. I watched as his eyes flitted about the cover, tracing every word to be found.
“Wanna flip through it?” I suggested, softly tugging at the book cover. 
“Yeah,” Ushijima nodded. “I’m interested.”
From the moment I opened the book, Ushijima and I were bound by the knowledge of the old world. The pages were written in english, yet the message was something that transcended all known languages. I went on to explain to him how the kama sutra devled into how sex between two lovers should be enjoyable for everyone, and how the pleasure of the woman would lead to ultimate satisfaction for both parties.
Though I’ve read it before for papers, presentations, and even for my dissertation, reading it with Ushijima was an experience that struck the strings of my heart in a special way. 
Maybe it was becasue he expressed a genuine interest in the questions he asked. Or maybe it was the cute reactions he made when things finally clicked. Or maybe it was the plain fact that I had someone beside me to read it with for once. 
From time to time, I took a few moments to study Ushijima’s reaction to his answered questions. He would blink a few times, as though he had to internalize all of what was said. Then, he’d peered over to me with a smile curling up the corners of his mouth.
Our chase of knowledge led us to the chapter on positions, the page’s title calling for Ushijima’s attention to be riled. 
“This chapter looks short. Where are the positions?”
“Well, the Kama Sutra actually doesn’t have any positions, it gives advice on how to select and personalize positions between lovers.”
“Huh,” he huffed. “…and what does that look like?
“Want me to show you?”
A blanket of silence fell over him, and he’s back to wearing that blank, sedated look on his face.
Damn, was that too strong? It was a little forward but I know it’s nothing—
“If it’s not too much…I’d be honored.”
“Well, then,” I grinned as I placed the book atop of the glass tabletop. “Let’s get started.”
Ushijima’s hand nuzzled along my waist, guiding me  over his lap to straddle him.
“You can just sit right on me, I think we’re getting a little closer, yeah?”
“I think we are, but we can get closer too, y’know.”
“And can we do that?” 
With that burning question of his, I was forced to bear the weight of what lust looks in his eyes—his pupils dilating, his eyelids growing heavy, and a mischievous smirk tracing his lips. 
“Do you wanna be on top?” I quizzed, toying with the top button of his dress shirt.
“Well I’m just here to observe, so I think you should be on top,” he said, leaning back against the couch. He brought me down with him, his hands nestled along my lower back. Just like that, my chest was smothered against the tauntingly chiseled mass of his own. 
My hands languidly skimmed along the face of Ushijima’s shirt. He held still as my touch consumed him and his senses whole, his lungs coaxed into a steam of shaky shallow, breaths. 
“Y’know, we have to find a way to make this position our own, make sure we fit each other just right,” I hummed, draping my arms along his broad shoulders. I lowered myself further into his groin,  pressing up against something hard…and twitchy.
That’s when I felt it, a thick bulge nested right between Ushijima and I. 
Men are so easy, it’s so cute. 
That stoic face of his was cracking right before my eyes—his eyes screwed shut, lips stunning with a puffy pout, his cheeks brushed with the innocent hues of blush. He looked so lost in his own heat, desperately squirming for a remedy. 
“Oh my-fuck, Y/N. What do you want from me? I’ll do anything, just say the word!”
I brought my thumb to tug along the plush of Ushijima’s bottom lip, his glossed skin clinging to my touch.
“Aww, where’s the patience you had earlier? I thought you were gonna tease me? But seeing you like this…it’s a good look on you too, Wakatoshi.”
A gentle grin eased itself into Ushijima’s features, fueled by the same salacious nature dotting his eyes. His hold over me shifted, his hand slipping down to grasp at the thick curve of my ass. He even found the chance to snake his hand between us to cup at the underside of my thigh. He kept me near, forcing his chest to curl into mine as he sat up once more. 
“I can guarantee you one thing, Y/N.” Ushijima huffed, his heavy eyes peering up at me. 
“Oh, and what’s that?”
“After me, you won’t ever need another lover.”
My hazy stare fluttered between his eyes and his lips, capturing the sight of It was almost likat was all I needed to finally be sealed beneath his trance. And because of that, I was able to press a soft peck onto Ushijima’s lips, breaking away just to whisper words of encouragement for his racing mind to catch. 
“Then prove it.”
Sharing my spite, Ushijima’s lips bared one final smirk before crashing against my own. His kiss told me all I needed to know–soft, puffy, and clinging to my own. The supply curves of his lips caught every pushing tide I offered, ignithing a ravenous intent deep within us both. 
His hands roamed over my body, claiming every curve, every inch of me for his taking. It’s dizzying to have him like this, a nonchalant man turned hungry for every crumb to offer. He was getting restless, his hips bucking for friction all over again. 
Maybe I was so focused on how dumb his lips had driven me or his hands tracing my body like a sculpture to his sculpture, but how he managed to have me pinned beneath him and smothered into the leather cushion is a mystery to me alone, but I wasn’t about to complain. 
How could I when he smothered me beneath the thick of his chest, sending my head into a dizzied frenzy But with the way his lips carried such care to dance with mine was enough for me to forgive him for being so needy. The same needy–no, greedy nature made him take control without any room for debate, and I surely wasn’t planning on starting anything I couldn’t finish.
“Mm, Y/N?” He mumbled, breaking our kiss.
“Hm?"
“If I remember correctly, didn’t the book say I should make you cum a few times? Through your pleasure, I'll find mine right?"
"Look at you, guess you really are learning. I think it did...so what are we gonna do about that?"
I didn’t need to hear the words to know what he had planned. I lifted my hips to help him, his hands stripping me free of my pants. 
Ushijima slotted himself between the couch and the table, clutching at my waist from below. 
His arms hooked around my thighs, his hands resting within the crease of my thighs, his filled palms squeezing at the plush fat. He seemingly ignored the fact that my underwear—the most annoying fact to exist—was still on.
Until his fingers began to trace along the pink lace. Slowly, carefully, and lazily he dragged the pad of his digit all over my panties, feeding some new whim of his. 
I watched him for a while as he led with his own agenda. Until I couldn’t sit still without some answer. 
“Aren’t you forgetting something?”
“Am I?” He retorted, his eyes darting to meet mine.
His touch burned with the thrill of tease as he gradually followed the edges towards the inseam of my panties. The pad of his middle finger was all he relied on as he carefully traced the puffy lips of my pussy. 
His finger sunk between my clothes lips, just for his discovery to be rewarded with the bud of my clit. That’s when Ushijima pinned his stare on me, antagonizing me into a game of endurance. 
Those aimless strokes turned into a series of sloppy circles, Ushijima claiming my clit as his latest victim in his game of taunts.
A whine cracked from behind my lips, something was stirring deep within me. He’s just teasing me but yet it was enough for my legs to tremble and my core to grow heavy with desire. How the fuck was he doing this to me?
A sigh from Ushijima broke my train of jumbled thoughts, bringing me back into the hellish scene. 
His breath fanned over the supple skin of my inner thigh, the heat inducing tremors to rake through my limbs. 
“Aw, I’m making a mess, “ Ushijima sighed. “Oh well.”
He drew himself back from me, fidgeting with the buttons of his shirt. He plucked his shirt open one button at a time, stopping just midway of his chest. 
I closed my legs, allowing him to tug my soaked pink pantiesf rom beneath me and off somewhere in the room. Ushijima returned to his post between my thighs—prying my legs apart for him to fill once again. His heavy arms curled around my thighs, his cheek nuzzled against the plumped skin. 
My face swelled with heat as he continued his marvels, his hand cupping my cunt. His thick fingers settled against my lips, spreading the fat supple mounds apart for him to see. 
“Oh, Y/N…” He mumbled, pulling my hips closer to his awaiting tongue. 
A scattered sigh tore out from Ushijima’s mouth, tickling my bare pussy with its heat. 
His heavy eyes were pinned to the raw sight he created of my pussy. I watched as his sights flickered over the scene, enticing his teeth to digging into his bottom lip. Determination painted his face with its fierce hues that it even fanned over to me. I’ve never had a man look at my cunt with such passion. It was enough for me to even succumb to the heat of it all. 
“Mm, fuck. Just lemme…” Ushijima trailed off mindlessly. 
Before he could even finish his thought, his lips were already busy with peppering kisses along my dewed folds. Kisses that were wet, sloppy and kiss carried the sweet, lewd cries of Ushijima coaxing my clit to join in his dance for two.
It’s filthy the way Ushijima works at my clit—his tongue lolls about my clit lazily, leaving glimmering soapy trails of spit to drip past my folds.
Every lash he delivers is a thoughtful one; the warm, soft flat of his tongue dragging against the puffy pearl, the sticky mess he’d made out of my clit clinging to the grooves of his tongue.
His lips are like velvet, left plump by the kisses we’d given on each just moments before. And to have those same luscious lips envelope my clit into a world that was nothing short of dizzying. 
Just the thought of his ministrations alone left my clit spry, the bundle of nerves twitching within the confines of Ushijima’s sloppy mouth. He busied himself with a soporific rhythm, suckling at the rathe bud just for kicks.
Ushijima peered at me through dilated pupils, those olive hues flickering all about my face. I couldn’t imagine the sight he had of me being committed to memory: puffy lips spilling with drool, close eyes screwed shut, and crude, whimsical curses ripping from my mouth. 
“Mmhm, talk to me, Angel. feels good?”
“Mm, yesyesyes! Oh fuck, just like that Ushijima!” my voice weakly keened. 
Awe glistened in my eyes as I watched him, mindlessly chasing an orgasm for my body to revel in. Yet, my drowsy lids were pinned to his jaw, bearing the weight of his hunger. Something came over me, a sense of adoration. So, I reached out to cup his jaw, grazing along what  worked so hard to pull an orgasm out of me. 
My thumb settled along the highs of his cheek, stroking at his flustered skin. He’s doing such a good job on my behalf, how couldn’t I thank him?
“Oh, that’s it. Y’re doing a good job, Ushijima,” I praised, sharing a weak grin. 
“Oh, I’m not done with you yet, pretty girl,” he chuckled softly.
In place of his lips, Ushijima brought a single digit nip at my entrance. He drew lazy circles around my slit, prepping me for what’s to come.
He’s gentle, easing barely half an inch of his digit inside. My walls grew lax for Ushijima, sucking  his long thick fingers to fill my pussy.
He made me so sensitive that just off that, I was whimpering out babbles to fall on no one’s ears in particular. Yet Ushijima still took heed to be kind with me.
“Shhh, just take me, baby. ‘m gonna go as slow as you want me to,” he assured. 
I didn’t feel his hand move from my thigh, but it did, reaching out for my own. Through my drunken senses, I managed to welcome his hand into mine, our fingers folding over one another.  
Bit by bit, Ushijima’s finger filled my gummy walls. He really was gentle, moving when my walls were lax and willing. He drove his finger to the hilt, only to slowly pull his digit back.
“Oh…fuckkk…s’ pretty,” he slurred, passing a glance back towards me. 
“Tell me where you want me.”
“Just curl your finger up--- oooh fuck!” I mewled, tossing my head back against the couch.
My hands followed suit, splitting away from Ushijima to grip along the couch’s frame behind my head. When I had Ushijima in my sights again, it wasn’t without a smug grin crowding his visage.
“So…is it here?” Ushijima asked, the pad of his digit lightly pulsing at my sweet spot.
“Mhm, right there. Just keep doing that.”
“Aww, Y/N, you shouldn’t have told me that—‘m gonna have fun with you now.”
Ushijima snickered as he returned to my clit, inviting the perked bud to melt over his tongue all over again. I trembled at the combined notions, sending an arch to overwhelm my spine.
“W-Wait, Ushi–That’s too much, ‘m already so close!”
Ushijima merely nodded, my words essentially falling onto deaf ears. Electricity licked all throughout my body, sending twitches to rattle my weak legs. I couldn’t take it, Ushijima’s finger toying with my sweet spot, he was setting me on course for the high of my life. 
“W-Wakatoshi! Toshi–fuck, ‘m cumming!” I cried, my lungs grasping for what air could enter. 
Ushijima’s finger plugged itself at my core, bringing a seizing crash to break over my body. Every ounce of me held firm, shivering to bear the weight of my chased high. My hips waved against the pad of his digit, riding out the end of my ecstasy off whatever friction would be found. 
Ushijima withdrew his finger from my cunt, leaving my poor hold  bare and gaping for something else to fill me. He brought that sullied digit straight to his mouth , sucking my honey off his fingers as he gleamed over me. Sporadic breaths chimed through the sex-stained air, my chest buckling to keep up with me.
“That’s a good girl,” Ushijima cooed. “Cumming so hard for me. Look at what you did to me.” 
Ushijima stood from my legs, his hand racing to grip at his crotch. And he was right—his pants were strained thanks to his bulge, the fabric just barely holding itself together.  But what caught my attention was the bubbly mess of precum foaming through his slacks. 
“Didn’t even touch me and you made me cum, should be proud,” he chuckled.”But that’s fine, we’re even…for now.”
“And what does that mean?” I asked, shifting myself to lay along the couch. 
“Let’s find out what I mean together.”
Ushijima quickly stripped himself of his clothes coaxing me to strip of whatever clothing was left on me as well. As he removed his clothing, my eyes hinged on his bare body—taut muscles highlighted his towering frame. He’s ribbed with strength chiseled to suit his build.
A thick trail of faint brown hair from his belly button guided down to the sight resting between his legs. He’s big, cock so heavy with lust that it needed no help to rise on its own. His cock was topped by a thick, fat reddened bulb, dribbling with glossy tears. His length was tanned, adorned with veins from the poor pressure building at his core. I watched as Ushijima settled himself between my legs, his dick slapping down against my tummy.
"See? Look how deep I'm gonna go," he smirked, his hand gripped at the base of his cock.
I laid my head on the couch’s armrest, lying in wait for Ushijima's next move. 
Ushijima placed his painfully hard cock to lay within my folds, my clit smothered beneath the weight. 
“I’m gonna go slow, okay?"
I nodded as I peered down to watch Ushijima nudged at my hole with the head of his cock, slowly prying my slit to greet his girth. 
“Fuh—pretty pussy’s taking me in already. Griping me s’ fucking tight,” Ushijima seethed, his hands griping along the couch’s cushions.  
My walls supplied Ushijima’s cock with gushing kisses, fluttering about his throbbing length. He kept working to bury himself to the hilt, dipping his hips to engulf my senses with nothing but him—his scent, his ardor, his fat bulbous heat fixated on  digging out my cunt.
“Y’re so big, Toshi! Fuck, go deeper!”
“Nuh uh, “Ushijima tutted as his eyes came to a screwed shut. “Don’t be so greedy, Baby. I got you, just…—shit—feel me, okay? His honeyed voice whimpered. 
I nodded softly, watching as Ushijima’s hips finally granted my wish. I couldn’t help but squeeze him in place, my walls fluttering around him. He was just so huge, filling out every inch of my pussy like it was nothing. My lashes grew heavy from the bubbling sear of tears lining my eyes. This pain—an intoxicating stretch sent me down a spiral of, being so full like this by Ushijima was something  I was enthralled by the feeling of being so full and stretched around him. 
Ushijima took notice too as he looked down at the unfolding scene. 
“Aw look, you took every inch! ‘m s-so…proud of you,” Ushijima huffed out. 
He leaned over me, pressing his chest flush against my own, resting his forehead within the crook of my neck. He brought his world crashing into mine, the heat of our bodies melding into one. I could even sense his heartbeat, thumping a languid aria into my skin. All I wanted to do was hold him, to have this moment last for as long as we could. But considering the throbbing mess he’d been reduced to, lust reigned over all other senses.
“I’m gonna start moving,” Ushijima mumbled into my dewed skin. “Just…talk to me, Princess. Just wanna see that face when you cum for me again…so fuckin’ bad.” 
He reeled his hips back weakly, striping my walls of the salacious fill of him. He drew himself just enough to have the tip just barely slipping from out of me, only for him to stuff every inch of him to the hilt. 
“T-Toshi! Ohmygosh!” I squealed, sending my hands to brace along the thick of his forearms. 
“I-I know. ‘m sorry! H-Here, gonna kiss it all better,” Ushijima groaned, his lips sloppily crashing into mine. 
Through all this, Ushijima’s hips rocked gently, working a cadence just for me. Slow yet deep allowed the red, weeping bulb of his cock to chip away at my need for dominance. Each reel of his cock enticed my walls to ease in his care, granting him to move that much quicker. 
And within those passing moments, the quiet squelches erupted into the lewd cymbals of clashing skin breaking into the air. Ushijima drove his cock to the hilt with ease. 
The same fate befell him, his quiet and restrained grunts now morphed into quivering sobs. His lips now dressed a heavy pout, dripping with his spit and carrying his weary words.
“Keep squeezing like that ‘nd I’m gonna cum."
“M-Me too, Toshi! I’m so close!”
I perched myself onto my elbows, urgent to close the valley left to exist between our two worked bodies. 
Not a word had to fall from my lawless tongue for Ushijima to soothe my wants. He leaned in, hunching over to blur our worlds into one. His hand snaked around to brace the nape of my neck, bestowing a gentle grip over me just to keep me close. He pressed his forehead flush against my own, beads of sweat dotting my skin.
Our lips remained poised in the heat of our budding passion, catching every whimsical babble we had to each other..
I couldn’t resist smothering him in a kiss, lazily catching every moan to ring from his chest. He was working so hard on my behalf, driving himself mad, sweaty, and depleted just to please me—oh, how lucky was I?
He broke away from our messy kiss, muttering some mantra that seemed to grasp his concern more.
He retreated back onto his haunches, pinning his sights on the messy canvas he’d made of my cunt. His thumb, the pad of his digit etching loose loops over the cherried pearl. 
I reached out to brace his wrist, pulling his hand to lay atop my tummy.
“Nuh uh, don’t wanna cum like that. J-just keep—fuck! Please don’t stop!” I sobbed, rolling my ensnared hips to match Ushijima’s tempo.
“Aww cumming already? Better make a mess or else I'm not stopping til you do.”
“Ooo-oh fuck, I-I  can make a mess! Just fr’ you.”
From that pledge Ushijima and I made, a fever dream broke out over the room. A dream fueled by sinful fervor that claimed any sense Ushijima and I had down to nothing. All we had on the brain was each other, doing our own part helping each meet our peaks.
As for me, he’s rendered me dumb and drunk over his cock, feeding my sweet spot with his deliciously thick girth. Dumb hiccuping babbles were all I could muster. My plushy walls were consumed by a familiar flutter, my inevitable high teetering on the edge.
“ToshiToshi, right there! I’m gonna—!" The word trapped itself within my throat, only to be replaced by a blubbering whimper.
A spell of heat licked at every nerve in my body. My eyes were sent rolling into the back of my head as my overwhelmed body coaxed my poor ruined cunt to weep,  a burst of tears gushing  over Ushijima’s flexed abdomen.  
“Good fucking girl, making a mess just like I asked. I wanna—fuck!—'m wanna cum with you too!”
The peak of my high left me just barely conscious, my eyes heavy with the sudden heft of fatigue. Through the thick gathering of my lashes, I gawked at Ushijima, his own nirvana finally crashing down around him. 
“Oh—‘m cumming! Y/N, I'm gonna cum!”
Ushijima trembled as his rutting hips came to a stuttering halt. He frantically ripped  himself from inside of me, the roused nerves of his cock sent into a twitching frenzy. Nuzzling the bulbous head along my inner thigh, the warm tears of white painted skin, followed by a clogged groan pouring from Ushijima’s gaping mouth. 
He collapsed on top of me, his lungs desperately heaving for air. I laced my arms around him, taking my digits through his unkempt hair as he came down. 
“Shhh, it’s okay, I got you. Just relax,” I hummed softly. 
Ushijima and I lay on that couch for a while longer, neither of us ready to move. As I combed through his hair, he kept a hand on my stomach, tapping away at some tempo to soothe himself. Just a quiet, peaceful reflection of the practices he and I had done.
He was right, I don't think I'll need another lover after that. My legs were practically useless, my throat sore, and my body was still reeling from the temors of my high. Even Ushijima still shivered from time to time. That moment was something straight out of a movie, calm, quiet, and filled with a growing fondness.
To my surprise, Ushijima was the first to break the silence with a question.
“So about our date, what time works—“
“Oh! You were serious about that?!” 
Ushijima nodded, “Well…yes. I know it was an exercise but I really wanted to take you out somewhere nice. And I actually do know a place around here with a huge wine cellar.”
 My head fell into a tilt as I studied Ushijima for a second. He’s back to his regular “stoic” self but this time every feature in his face was softened—his brows, his lips, his eyes; all carried a bout of sincerity. I simply had no heart to deny him, especially now knowing what kind of man he was in the face of rapture.
“Y’know what, Ushijima,” I purred as my hand reached to cup his cheek.
“I’d like that.”
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soapybutt17 · 2 days
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The Ex and Why's
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Summary: No one knows much about Simon’s life aside from what was listed on his files. The family that had died a tragic death, the trauma that came with his actions, and the rank that made him what he was today. No one had realized that behind the balaclava wearing man from Manchester was a man that once had a heart and signed divorced papers he had constantly regretted signing all those years ago.. Character: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Ex Wife!Reader. John Price. Kate Laswell. Johnny "Soap" MacTavish. Kyle "Gaz" Garrick Word Count: 9,787 Chapter Warnings: Angst with Happy Ending. Miscommunication. Mention of Minor Character Deaths. Mention of Divorce. Life threatening Injuries. Mention of Simon's tragic past and trauma. Not edited (sorry!) AN: I can now sleep in peace. If you enjoyed it why not visit my mini celebration and post your own requests I can write just like this.
Masterlist || Request are Open || 500 Followers Celebration
When you had learned about this new job, one thing you had so gotten used to doing was letting Simon know about it. But not this time, something about letting him back into your life wasn’t something you should do anymore. You were no longer married to him by your own choice and no one else’s. So you know it was time to wear your big girl pants now and stopped letting him know about it.
You no longer had any reason to give your ex-husband any updates about your life. A more selfish reason was how you just wanted to start a new life, away from him and away from anything that was related to him.
“Ms. Riley?”
You turned smiling at the man that would now be your new boss. You learned his name to be John Price, a Captain.
Being married to a man like Simon Riley once upon a time, you know some thing or two about what goes on inside of a military base. Even when he hasn’t talked much about it with you during your relationship or if he even gone as far as mention your existence to the people he had once worked with. You chalked it up to overprotectiveness and fear that they would get to you, and some night thing that he was simply embarrassed about you. Maybe it’s another reason why you had opted out of telling him about this new job of yours.
“Captain Price, it’s good to finally meet you.” You firmly shook the man’s hand. A good first impression was the best thing for you to do if it meant making sure you work for the man for the foreseeable future.
“Likewise, Laswell as spoke great things about you and I’m hoping to be able to experience it firsthand.”
You nodded with a smile. Working for Kate’s wife for nearly a few years beforehand, you had appreciated the suggestion for this new role as a secretary for the Captain ever since your divorce. She had understood you needed this change in pace in your life and this was much of a welcome change.
“I do hope it’s all good things.” You quipped right back earning a deep resonating chuckle from the older man.
“Well I think now that introductions as over and done with, let me show you to my office. I do hope you’re up for dealing with a handful of documents for me on your first day.”
“More than happy to.” You beamed following the man, his larger hand holding onto the small of your back as you began your journey into the heart of the base.
All throughout the walk, he was giving your directions to where most things were. You were warned how some men could be rowdy at time and he was more than happy to help in the off chance that any of his men would give you problems.
All you could do was smile, not wanting him to know that you were more than well equipped to punch or kick anyone that would get too handsy with you. One of the perks of having an ex-husband working for the military.
He continued on with how things go around in the base. Schedules for meal time and the curfew in the event that you would be staying in the base overnight. He had also showed you to where your new room would be located in.
“You would be a few rooms away from my own as well as the Lieutenant and Sergeants that I trust most. In the event that I’m unavailable, they will be more than willing to lend you a hand if you need it.”
You nodded before you finally arrived in his office. Opening the door for you, you were greeted with a spacious office. Even in the chaos of the military base, the man’s office was pristine, a few knick knacks and photos that littered his walls, as well as a bookshelf that housed an array of military strategies books. But the most alarming thing about his office was the other table that housed stack upon stacks of folders, papers practically spilling out from each and every single one of them.
“I may or may not have underestimated the help I truly need in this situation.” The Captain said sheepishly as you began opening the folders and gasped that most of them weren’t even ordered correctly even with the page numbers printed on them.
“I think I can manage this.” You blinked hoping you didn’t bite more than you could chew in this moment.
For the next few hours, your time was spent removing staplers upon staplers from the papers for each and every single one of the folders while you were inquiring to John the calls you would be fielding for him from now on and how he would want you to deal with it.
You had learned so much about the man in the few hours being in the same room as him. He was a man that wanted to ensure the safety of the world, even if it meant bloodying his hands up a little just to make sure of it. It showed with some of the missions reports that you may or may not have accidentally read too much into. You’ve also learned how much he hated talking to upper ranking officials if not needed, he was a man that hated authority yet he was working in the field that he was in right now from the way his comments about letting calls from upper ranks go to voice mail if possible.
“Will there be anything or anyone that I should be worried about for now?” You inquired making sure that you did not stir anyone in the wrong way if possible.
“I’m sure Laswell has told you enough to understand our work. Some men are more scarred than sane and if possible, I want you to make sure that you do not give anyone the wrong impression if possible.”
You know what he was implying and with your own experience you know far too well that getting yourself involved with another man in uniform would lead into.
“I’ve done my fair share, Captain. I don’t think that would be much of a problem with me.” You reassured him.
“Laswell told me you were divorced.” He began, huh, who would have thought the man would be the gossiping type.
“It’s been a few years,” You shrugged attention solely on rearranging the files at hand. “It took months before my ex-husband signed the papers, I wanted to think it was because he was deployed but I knew otherwise.” You muttered.
When you had made the decision to finally break things off with Simon, it was like pulling teeth with the man and his near avoidance about the discussion or where you would be sending the divorce papers. You had enough of it, leaving the home you once shared instead with everything you owned and left nothing more of you than the divorce papers alongside the wedding ring and engagement ring he had given you all those years ago.
“He was military too?”
“Something like that.” You nodded not wanting to think too much about the man. Even after everything, you still worried about you giving the man too much information in the event that he works for the opposing side if the chance may have it.
“Well his lost is my gain.” He snorts turning his attention back to the freshly arranged folders courtesy of you that were now ready for his signature. “No offense.”
“None taken, Captain.”
Eventually the man had excused himself for a meeting and had instructed you that no one would be allowed inside aside from him. He had also reminded you about lunch which you could head on out first or you could join him once his meeting was done. You’ve decided it would be best to join him for lunch for now, just to get a feeling of anyone that you would get into contact with on your first day.
With a quick goodbye, you were left on your own and you all but groaned at the folders still stacked up and yet to be touched. It truly made you wonder how the man could be so good in his job yet be so horrible with his paperwork. You will never understand.
Your eyes fixated for a moment on one of the pictures on the wall. It was your boss with three individuals. A blue eyed man with a horrible cut Mohawk but the biggest beaming smile on his face, his arm wrapped around a much younger man with darker skin but a bright eyes that twinkled with happiness for whatever was going on when the photo was taken. But amongst the camaraderie and enjoyment was a man in a skull balaclava mask that had such an empty but somehow familiar eyes, the man stuck out like a sore thumb even with the Captain’s hand resting on the taller man’s shoulder and beaming smile and a cigar between his lips. It was an odd mix of people but it was like family—it made you miss Simon for a moment before your attention got right back to the paperworks.
You can’t think of him now. Not anymore.
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After the events of Las Almas, Simon Riley had truly fought the urge to call you, to tell you how much you mean the world to him and how he was now more than willing to give you the compromise you had always longed from him. But a part of him, the bigger and much darker part of him had refused, slamming his own phone onto the wall in the sheer anger of everything that had occurred in the moment. You had made your choice because of his own action and he would be cruel to take that away from you.
“Heard Cap had a new Secretary, old man’s gonna finally keep his paperworks in check now.” Soap had ruining Simon’s sulking in the cafeteria.
It’s been a grueling few days. With new recruits he was forced to deal with in the morning and nightmares that you no longer could vanish for him at night. His life was nothing more than misery personified and he has no one else to blame but himself.
“Can’t say I’m surprise. Laswell probably set it up for him.” Simon muttered being more than within earshot when he heard both Laswell and Price arguing about the man’s need for necessary help with files. It was Laswell’s decision above anything else, it’s just a matter of time if the secretary would actually last with how everything goes around here in the base.
“Still, hope we’ll have a new bonnie around. Getting sick and tired of seeing Bampots all around.”
Simon didn’t even had the energy to question the man’s slangs, his attention solely back on his cup of tea and lunch—how horrible it was compared to your cup and cooking, but he never truly appreciated it until it was gone. His tea was too bitter even with the sugar and cream he added and the food that didn’t have the special kick compared to your own cooking. Even years after the divorce he was still so miserable without you in his life.
“Steamin Jesus.”
Simon could practically hear Soap melt from where he sat in front of him, his eyes directed at whoever was behind Simon. His curiosity got the better of him and his head turned and he was welcomed with the last person he would have ever believed to be walking besides one John Price.
“Yer lookin’ a bit peely wally.” Soap pointed out breaking Simon from his trance.
“English, MacTavish.”
“You look a lil’ pale, Lt. Like you’ve seen a fucking ghost.”
Simon could have at this point. As you walked besides Price towards the table he sat in. He noticed how unaware you were even at the sight of him only for him to realize that you had never seen him with his mask on, or in anything that has to do with his line of work—until now.
“Right, I think it’s time to introduce this lovely lass.” Price cleared his throat but he should have known by now that both Simon and Soap’s attention were already on them both. “This is Y/N Riley, my new secretary.”
Simon’s brows rose at that little tidbit. You still had his last name. He understood to a degree why you did so—your family that you had long cut off from your life after what they had done to you, but after everything that had happened between the two of you he wouldn’t have expect you to choose the lesser of two evils—being his last name.
“Riley? She a sister or wife to you, Lt?” Soap’s quick remark earned him a glare from Simon before his attention was back to you, how your brows furrowed before your eyes finally widen in realization.
“Purely coincidence.” Simon muttered.
“This is Sgt. Johnny “Soap” MacTavish and Lt. Simon “Ghost” Riley.” Price introduced almost realizing at this point the similarity of the last name you both shared in this moment.
“Nice to meet you two.” You smiled, quickly to compose yourself and shaking both men’s hand.
Even with the glove Simon wore, he could still feel the all too familiar electric shock of your touch against his own. He looked at you how easy your eyes dilated at his touch. It scared him still how you had so much of an effect on him even after the years apart from each other.
As you and Price excused yourselves to get lunch, it left Simon wondering if this was the world finally punishing him for everything he has done in his cruel life. Give him the very thing he had wanted the most only to pull it away at every instance.
“Bloody fucking hell.”
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It’s been two weeks since you’ve began your new job as Captain John Price’s secretary. Two weeks since you had tried and succeeded in making sure you had avoided the man known in the base as Ghost—or to you, simply known as Simon Riley, your ex-husband. Every single instance that you were both placed in the same room (mostly in Price’s office), you both acted like you didn’t know each other, it was hard knowing just how close the man was after so long of a separation from each other.
But as much of an avoidance you’ve made for the Lieutenant, the same could not be said for the two Sergeants that had been dead set in making themselves both your companion while in the base but as well as your guard dogs from the ballsy few that would dare ask you out on a date. You appreciated the effort as much as it was not needed knowing it earned a dangerous glare from your ex in the process.
“Looks like you’re right at home.”
You jerked your head up from the files you were arranging at the voice of an all too familiar woman. A smile rested on your face at the sight of one Kate Laswell, your former boss’ wife.
“Kate.” You smiled an exhausted sigh escaping your lips at the sight of the woman. Both her and her wife had been the pair that knew what you had been through since your divorce and she was one of the two people that saw behind the façade you had decided to show the world.
“How are you holding up?” She inquired.
“Doing better.” You assured her. “Just a slight problem but nothing I can’t deal with now.”
“Oh no. Is your ex-husband bothering you again? I told you to just say the name and I’ll find some dirt on him in a heartbeat.”
You chuckled, knowing how that would be close to impossible with the man’s stand and rank in the Taskforce.
“Simon Riley.” You said instead and watched the way her eyes widen upon realization.
“Why did I not put two and two together?” She snorted realizing the small misjudgment on her part. “Does John know?”
You shook your head. You didn’t know how, but in the weeks of working at the base, you had been successful enough not to let the small detail spill. It was for both of your sakes and you feared that if you told the man, you would be fired and not him, not that you would want him to choose between the two of you.
“It would be a shame if John couldn’t keep you working for him because of your past with Ghost. I’m actually able to see his files being sent to me on time for once and he’s less stress in this past week for once.”
You blushed, knowing that that was a compliment, something that was rarely spoken by one Kate Laswell in the years of working for her wife.
“I genuinely don’t want to go either.” You spoke honestly. “Even with the situation.”
“Will you keep the information to yourself for now?” She inquired. “What does Ghost think of this?”
“I haven’t talk to him since I’ve gotten here.” You spoke honestly. “And I think it would be better if don’t talk to him about it either.”
“Talk to who about?”
Both of you had jerked your head towards the owner of the voice and it was Price with your husband, Soap, and Gaz in tow. You looked panicked at Kate hoping she could help you out this predicament with the man in the very room with them.
“My wife’s been asking how she’s been holding up since the divorce and if she’s gotten around to talking to her ex.” Kate brushed off and you wanted to face palm yourself, not the answer you were hoping for her to give.
“Wait you were married?” Gaz piped in with surprise.
“Was.” You corrected, eyes glancing towards Simon for a moment before turning your attention right back to the younger man. “But it’s nothing to worry about, you know how Kate’s wife is.” You tried your best to reassure everyone.
“Well that bloke lost something good that’s for sure.” Soap quipped right back with a flirty wink. You’ve learned this was the default with the man. “Right Lt?”
Both you and Kate found yourself looking at the man and it somehow clicked to him that you both were now more than aware of the currently predicament that fell before you and without another word left the office, slamming the door behind him.
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To this very day, Simon still can’t understand why he had signed those papers. Why didn’t he just talk with you and made a compromise. Instead he became an asshole that avoided any forms of communications with you until he was left with no other choice but divorce papers waiting for him at home and every single trace of you no longer in the home you two once shared.
In the deepest depths of his bedside drawer was the divorce papers that officially separated him from you, the two ring boxes that housed his wedding ring and the engagement ring he had bought for you. Around his neck, alongside his Dog tag was your wedding ring—the same wedding ring you had left on top of the coffee table of your home, with the divorce papers right under it.
It was his fears that finally came to life and he truly didn’t know why his body automatically signed without even reaching out to you first. To this day, in the years that has passed he still wonder what his life and relationship could be if he fought for your marriage.
Would he still be married to you right now? Would the two of you finally have the family you had always wanted? Maybe by now your first kid would have been three, he had always dreamed of having a daughter. A darling little girl that was a spitting image of you, a daughter he would protect with his life over and over again.
That could have been his life, but he was far too stupid for his own good. He was too much of a bastard that ruins everything good that comes into his life. He pays the price every single night he comes home to his apartment—empty and lacked the warmth that only you could ever give to someone like him.
He made his bed and he was sleeping in tears because of it.
“There he is, good you’ve got your arse here, LT.”
Another one of the mistakes he seems to be making in his life was joining the rest of the team in the pub and realizing that you have come to join them this time around.
Bloody fucking hell you were as beautiful as the first day he had ever laid eyes on you. There was the twinkle in your eyes he had once thought he had diminished as you continued on with whatever conversation you were having with Gaz with Price listening on. You had on your favorite red crepe dress that slightly showed some cleavage but not enough to be indecent, with your favorite locket that he had brought for you while you were still dating, and the first ever expensive Cartier watch you had brought for yourself (which Simon would have more than willingly bought for you if you allowed it) while saving up your checks.
Fate was nothing but a cruel sick man for giving this sight of you in front of him and never allowing him the taste he always craved. A gift that wasn’t his to accept—anymore.
“You know how traffic is, Johnny.” He muttered finding himself sitting beside the man and in the process finding himself sitting right in front of you in the process.
“Bullshit,” Soap snorted. “Stopped by a bonnie we didn’t know about?”
Simon glanced towards you, the momentary hurt that passed through your eyes before you continued on with your conversation with Gaz, now hearing you were both talking about your Uni days and how you found yourself involved with working for Laswell’s wife all those years ago.
“Don’t have the time nor the energy for another headache in my life.” He spoke realizing that it was the wrong thing to say with you in front of him. He could have said it if you were not here, but not in your presence, it diminishes every single thing he had ever had with you.
It wasn’t what he meant but he couldn’t truly take it back.
“I can second that.” You spoke finally meeting his eyes this time. An unrecognizable look in your eyes as you stared right at him. “And this is coming from someone that’s already made a mistake of ever getting married to a man in the military.”
This has opened the floodgate for everyone in the table to question you about your apparent divorce. He had no one else to blame for this than himself. He listened in now as you continued on answering questions about your relationship with him and the eventual divorce, but made sure it was vague enough not to have fingers pointed at him.
“So, you loved the man more than life itself and all that, why divorce?” Soap had asked the million dollar question.
“It’s gets tiresome to love someone that doesn’t want to help himself.” You spoke honestly. “Year of trying to understand him, only to push shoved away over and over again, it hurts and it gets tiresome. I just had to go before the love turns to hate.”
In the years since the divorce, there was never closure between the two of you. The forms of communications that you both had were mostly about him being deployed again or of you and your plans of moving around or changing careers. Never did either of you had the much needed closure that you both deserved—until now, not directed at him.
“If any of you ever attempt getting involved with a guy or girl make sure you’re serious about the relationship a hundred percent, not fifty, not seventy-five, not even fucking ninety. Because that small fraction you’re not giving them might be the very reason why everything falls apart.”
Simon finds himself blinking at the words that now escaped your lips. The downright resentment that still lingered in your tongue even after everything that had occurred between the two of you. He shouldn’t have signed those fucking divorce papers.
Marriage Counseling, they should have had marriage counselling like you had begged from him all those years ago.
He stood, excusing himself to order the next round of drinks. He doesn’t have it in him anymore to listen to your words cutting him to the very core.
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One of the biggest mistake about accepting Price’s offer of going out with the rest of the team for a quick drink was forgetting your non-existing alcohol tolerance. As the drink was now swimming through your blood stream, your lips become looser and there were few moments were you had almost spilled the fact that your ex-husband just happens to be sitting in front of you in the table you shared with the rest of 141.
“You sure you’ll be alright to head home on your own?” Your boss has inquired the moment it was announced the pub was closing up for the early morning.
You nodded with a smile, but the warmth that you were certain painted your skin and the dazed eyes, you were all too sure that it would be a big mistake for you to do. Go knows how dangerous it would be for a drunk like you to head home all on your own.
“I’ll take her home.” Simon announced and before you could protest, John had nodded agreeing that it would be the best thing to do and you couldn’t protest or show even a smidge of irritation as you were given a death glare by your ex-husband.
“Thank you for letting me join you guys.” You spoke towards your boss, the giggly duo of Soap and Gaz. “I’ll text once I get home.” You promised them following Simon out of the pub.
You took a deep breath as the cool morning air sobered you up for a moment as you waited for the man with his car. Frowning when you realized the man didn’t have his car with him but rather his death machine known as his motorcycle.
“Here.” He muttered practically shoving an all too familiar helmet towards you.
Like quick work, you had put on the helmet, ensuring to adjust the strap before the man does. You were still unprepared to be in close proximity with the man but here you were.
Watching him pull down the foot peg, he turned to you waiting for you to ride him—ride his motorcycle. With a deep breath you rode behind him, the skirt riding up your legs and he was quick to pull it down for your own decency before revving the engine on.
“Hold on tight.” He ordered and your body was on autopilot as you wrapped your arms around his waist as he sped off.
You know it was the alcohol but you find yourself smelling him, the all too familiar smell of his musk and cologne—the same cologne you had given him when he told you were promoted to Lieutenant. Your head rested on his back, cheek squished against the expansion of his back, feeling the way his back tense at your touch as it had the same effect for you feeling his warmth all over again.
“Where?” He questioned you as the bike halted at the stoplight.
You slurred your words, but you did your best to tell him directions to where your apartment was. Your sober self would have slapped you at the back of the head for letting Simon know about your whereabouts, knowing it wasn’t something he needed to know anymore.
For a moment as the winds blew against your cheeks, you were brought back to the memories of your time together. How you feared his driving and his bike more than anything else in the world but every single time he made sure you were at your safest with him, always did even in this moment.
You remembered the dates you would both have at night when he was at his most sleepless. By the park, your arms wrapped around him as his head rested on your shoulders. How you had carried so much of his nightmare even when you truly knew nothing but what he would let you know which wasn’t much and would only be in the instance that you would have accidentally heard during his nightmares.
You remembered how tired you were as much as you loved him, how much he had meant the world to you in that very moment but slowly but surely it wasn’t the same anymore. You felt the resentment before the anger for everything he wasn’t willing to give you. You gave him everything thing but he could barely give you anything in return.
“We’re here.” Simon announced, pulling away from him you turned and he was right. You were back in your apartment and you didn’t realize how fast time has flown since as you were deep in your thoughts.
Hopping down the bike with the man helping you, you turned to him and your mouth moved before you could stop yourself.
“Want to head inside—for coffee at least as a thank you?”
“I think coffee and a conversation would be the best thing for the both of us to do at this point in time, Love.”
You felt your pulse quicken as everything single thing you had talked about in the pub was coming back to bite you in the ass. Simon has his ulterior motive after all for wanting to escort you back home.
All you did was nod, heading to the door with the man following closely behind. You felt your hands shaking but you had succeeded in keying the door open. Opening the door for him, you walked further inside, opening the lights and toeing off the flats you had on.
You placed your wallet and keys on the coffee table and found yourself sitting on the couch waiting for the man to follow you.
You heard Simon close the door, the sound of the lock being turned and the sound of his leather jacket had you worried for what was to come.
“I fucking take you seriously with the bloody helmet still on your head.” He pointed out as he stood right in front of you, unclasping the helmet from your head and for the first time in a long time, you saw him up close and the way the darkness of his eye bags was the most prominent about him—it had gotten so much worse than when you were still married. Was it because of you?
“Sorry.” You mumbled as you watched him place the helmet on top of the coffee table alongside most of your things.
“Where’s the kitchen?”
You pointed towards you left and the man had made himself at him. The sound of cupboard being opened and the all too familiar muttering of horrible instant coffee you always wanted was heard. You wanted to let out a giggle but the sudden fear of the reality of your decision brought back something you never thought you would ever relive.
You sigh elbows digging onto your thighs, as your slumped your face into your hands. Why did you offer to have him here? Why did you accept the offer of him taking you back home? Why did you accept Kate’s offer of working for John? Why did you decide to divorce Simon?
In your own mini-panic attack, the smell of vanilla latte had you pulling away from your hands and you saw the cup of coffee already in the table and Simon was already sitting in front of you, without the surgical mask and without the figurative mask he was wearing at the base.
“Why are you doing this to me?” He questioned.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Of all the places you could work why the base?”
“It’s not like I knew you were working for Price.” You snort. “It was Kate that suggested I work there—a new environment for me after everything that happened.”
Kate had called it her own version of exposure therapy. You truly appreciated her help even after knowing your ex-husband was working there in the same vicinity as you.
“You could have left?”
You snort. Aside from everything that came with the military, the money was too good to leave—but that was not something you would want to discuss with Simon knowing his intent to still provide for you even with the ink on the divorce papers were still drying.
“Why would I? You and I have nothing between us.” You spoke, knife sharp as his own words of calling you a headache to him.
“What you said to the team is that the real reason why you filed for divorce?”
All you could do was nod.
“You could have talk to me that you weren’t happy anymore we could have made it work.”
“No you won’t, Si.” You shook your head, arms crossed against your chest, you feared the words that would be thrown between the two of you now especially at your state. “I would have made it work.”
“What do you want me to do then? What could I have done then? You say one thing but mean something else?”
“Because every single time I wanted you to open up to me, you closed yourself up even more!” You spat right at him now. “Do you know how hard it was for me to bare myself to you about the shit in my life and in my family only to be reciprocated with how your family was fucked up but not an explanation for it?”
“That’s none of your business.” His voice grows dark, it was a sensitive topic.
“Then why were we even married if it wasn’t my business?” Your voice growing louder now, exasperated by this conversation. “What was the use of our vows if you would keep the smallest things a secret from me?”
“It’s not fucking small!” He screamed right back at you and you instinctively flinched at his voice then. Why was he being so cruel to you now?
“When I married you, I accepted you for who you are, I accepted that you can’t truly tell me what your missions were about or about whatever details about your deployment were. But even just something, anything that would make me believe that I was something more than a whore you could fuck and a maid that would take care of the house and cook you fucking food would have been appreciated.”
“You were my wife, wasn’t that enough?”
“No it was not, Simon.” You spat. “You never made me feel like I was truly your wife when you shut yourself down after coming home to me. You weren’t the same man that I had accidentally spilled coffee on when we first met.”
“If you knew me for the things I’ve been through you wouldn’t look at me the same way.”
“And how would you know that?” You questioned him. “How could you think for me when you don’t even know what I would think of you after everything we’ve been through?”
“You want to know the truth?”
“Yes. Maybe that way I can finally move on from anything that has to do with you.”
You know that was the wrong thing to say as the man cracked his neck and began to talk. About his life, about the abuse he had to endure at the hands of his father. He began to talk about the new beginning of his life when his father died and everyone tried their best to recover. He told you of his mother that he loved more than anything else at that point, of his brother, of his sister-in-law, and of his young nephew Joseph.
He told you about how he was finally at peace with the trauma of his life back then before things gotten to hell and back. He told you of the man named Roba, he told you of the abuse he had to once again go through at the hands of Roba’s men, physically, mentally, and sexually. He told you why he hated confined spaced after being buried alive in a coffin with a man named Vernon, a rotten corpse that he had to use the jaw of to escape death.
He told you of the death of his family, of Marcus Washington killing his family. Killing his mother, his brother, his sister-in-law, and his nephew that didn’t deserve being involved in anything the mission was about. He told you how he had to burn the bodies of what was left of his family and his identity in the process. You learned then why he was called Ghost and what it had meant for him and his past that continued to haunt him.
You were left stunned, unable to form words about everything that has happened to your husband. But it was the fact that now everything about him made sense. All the little things about his personality of why he was the man that sat in front of you today. It all made sense and it scared you that he was right. How you truly didn’t know what to say or what to feel now that you’ve learned of his past that he tried so hard to hide from you.
“Happy?”
“Don’t be cruel, Simon.” You whispered now, the tears were slowly forming from your eyes now, you wanted to cry for him, to mourn the family that he had lost and for adding yourself into the pain he was now enduring.
“Cruel?” He laughed, no humor in his words, malice was more evident. “What’s cruel is you still using my last name and airing out our dirty laundry to the men I work with instead of talking to me first.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore.” You shook your head, stung by his words. He was right but you weren’t going to admit it right now. A small ounce of pride still clawing its way out of you. “And you know why I still used your last name.”
It was your family. You wanted to erase was little traces of your family remained. Even in the divorce, you always had it in mind to remain a Riley. It was better than having to be the ghost of your former self all over again.
He stood now, knowing it was all he needed to know. He walked away but somehow a lingering thought had you opening your lips all over again.
“Why didn’t you fight for me, Si? Why did you sign the papers back then if you truly didn’t want to break up?”
“Because no matter how much I loved and needed you in my life, I will always choose your happiness before my own.” He answered, opening the door and leaving.
The sound of his bike echoing as you were left to mourn the closure of your relationship with the man that had meant the world to you. With all the regret finally coming full force you were left knowing that you had broken the man more than he already was and there was no turning back from it anymore.
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It’s been well over a year now since you have been hired as Captain John Price’s secretary. Things were slowly but surely getting better for you and your career. Since the day you had talked with Simon, you wouldn’t say things between the two of you were getting better but you were civil with each other. You’ve interacted with him a few times, especially when it came to paper works but nothing more was said between the two of you.
Even with Price’s rule of not getting yourself involved with anyone in the team, it was becoming a mission for both Gaz and Soap to set you up with people on the base. Doctors or medics were somehow their number one target for you, but every single time, you find yourself relenting to just one date but never pushing for something more.
After knowing the truth about your ex, you didn’t have the heart to be so cruel to him more than you already were working in the base as him. Your free time away from base were spent with hobbies you had while still being married to Simon, baking and journaling, it was relief to be able to do it now with a new light was shed to the events of your marriage failing. You’ve also come to accept the offer of Kate’s wife’s therapist. It was a big help to be able to talk to someone else about everything you’ve been through.
You’ve learned to accept that you had your own mistake in the failure of your marriage just as much as Simon did. But your therapist has also come to mention that you needed to begin your own journey of healing from the what ifs of it, and live in the aftermath as painful as it was for you now.
“That dangerous?” You found yourself fearing for the worse at the conversation you were having with your boss as he explained to you the vague details of the upcoming mission him and the rest of the Task Force had for today.
With the chaos of prepping and planning, your boss was constantly on his feet and you were following him every step away for most of it to field calls and handle most of the paperworks to be sent out to sign and shipped to the higher ups. But to know a glimpse of what was happening and how your ex-husband would be involved in all of this worried you more than you would like to admit.
“It is what it is, if it meant a safer and better world, we would do it over and over again.” He explained.
“Just be careful, I still want to keep my job and I can’t if you’re dead, Boss.” You teased.
“Laswell can still be able to deal with you if I’m gone.” He retorted right back earning a quick laugh from you.
One thing that you had gotten so used to was his humor and how you had showcased your own as time went by working for the man. You appreciated him for being one of the two best bosses you had ever had in your career.
“Shouldn’t you be preparing for the mission?” You quipped right back.
“I should.” He chuckled standing right up in his full height. “Can you go check on the boys for me while I do?”
You could have refused, but a small part of you wanted to check up on Simon. Standing up, you had made your round, first stopping by Soap’s room to check up on him and notify him about the mission. Soap being the man that he was already suggesting you another man in the base beforehand.
“How about Micah? Pretty bloke that just joined the Medic team.” He began shoving the rest of his things into his duffle bag.
“Johnny, for the last time, I’m not into those pretty type you think I’m into.” You tried to indulge him in the conversation for now knowing it would ease him from the mission.
“What is your type so me and Gaz could actually find someone for you?” He pouted.
“Tall, blonde, dark and broody and with a heavy Manchester-accent.” You indulged him with description of the only man you actually loved.
“Why the fuck are you describing Ghost?” He snorts. “You got a thing for him? I thought you swore off anyone from the military?”
“Never said it was Ghost, Johnny.” You quipped right back. You hugged him and have him wrap his arms around you right back. “Be careful for me will you, I can’t live my life here in the base knowing you or Gaz aren’t here trying to set me up with anyone and everyone in the base including the married ones.”
“Hey we didn’t know Wilson was married.” He protested as he pulled away to look at you in offense.
“At this point I’ve already had dinner with half of the base, let’s keep it to a minimum when you get back. I might show you my ex so you can have an idea of what my type is.”
“Deal.” He grinned kissing you on top of the head before leaving to head to the meeting room.
You next stop was Gaz which wasn’t much of a journey with how close his room was to Soap’s. Knocking inside, you were immediately welcomed into the arms of Gaz. Unlike Soap that had been fixated with setting you up with someone in the base, Gaz was more focused on the next get together you could go to after the mission.
“I think me and Soap could convince Price to have a weekend in his vacation house in Cornwall.”
You nodded knowing it wouldn’t take much to convince Price if it meant helping the rest of the team with de-stressing and ensuring everyone has recovered mentally from the mission. But it also meant that you would be in charge of cooking knowing you and Price were the only ones that knew how to cook and you wanted your boss to actually have time to recover himself in the process.
“As long as you help me with grocery and prepping then you got a deal.” You winked pulling away from him with a smile already excited to bake them your famous apple pie they constantly beg you to make for them since the first time making it for them.
“Deal.” He grinned kissing you on the cheeks and just like Soap, finding himself heading out with his bag already at hand.
It now meant you had one last person you needed to stop by before the mission prep. You took your time somehow rehearsing what you could probably say to the man for his upcoming mission. You had your worry and you knew this was a dangerous mission.
Knocking on his door, you heard the gruff response from the other side of the door.
“Simon?” You called and immediately heard the door being unlocked.
You were faced with him wearing his skull balaclava mask. This was the side of him that you never gotten used to see but it was a part of him that you could never truly erase from him.
“What’s wrong?” He asked you allowing you to walk inside.
“Price told me to notify you about heading out for the mission.” You explained. “And I just—I just wanted to ask you to be careful on the mission.”
“Always.” He nodded.
A moment of silence has passed between the two of you before you were reminded of your therapist’s words. There was nothing wrong if you extended an olive branch to the man after everything was out in the open.
“After the mission, I would love to have you join us in Price’s cabin in Cornwall for a quick vacation too.” You added. “I know you’re busy with whatever you need to do to distress after a mission, but I would think it would be good to you if you joined. I can opts this one out if you’re more comfortable with that.”
“I’d go.” He nodded. “But I want you to join along and I want you to make me that lovely cheesecake you always make for me after I come home from deployment.”
You smiled knowing that it was always the same, a way to a man’s heart is always through his stomach.
“Anything else you want?” You asked wanting to give in to his all too simple request.
“And I want us to at least be friends, you’re part of the team now and they care for you and it wouldn’t do anyone good for us to act like we can’t stand each other.”
You nodded, heart aching a little at what he wanted. Friends. That was all he wanted and you would gladly compromise this time for him if that was what makes him truly happy.
“Friends.” You smiled, taking a hesitant step towards him for a hug but stopped mid movement as he pulled you right into his arms. The all too familiar warmth that consumed him.
“I wished things would have been different between the two of us.” He whispered kissing the top of your head. “I’d give you the world when I couldn’t give you myself fully.”
You closed your eyes wrapping your arms around his broad back.
“I wished I was strong enough for the two of us.” You whispered the tears slowly forming your eyes. “I wished I stayed a little longer for the two of us.”
“I never stopped loving you, Love. We might not be married anymore but you will be the only woman I will ever love truly with all my life and with all my soul.”
“You too, Si.” You whispered looking up at him allowing the tears to flow freely from your eyes now. “After everything that had happened between us, I will always love you.”
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It was the middle of the night when you heard the familiar ringtone of your old phone. The same phone that only Simon knew the number to. You blinked away the sleep as you pulled the phone right out of the bedside table.
An unfamiliar number took you by surprise and for a moment you wanted to not answer it thinking it might be a telemarketer—but something had pushed you to press the answer button and hear whoever was on the other line.
“Hello?” You whispered clearing your throat.
“Mrs. Riley?” The familiar voice of John had you tensing. You found yourself sitting up from the bed as he began to introduce himself and why he had called.
“What happened to Simon?” You questioned checking your bedside clock to see what time it was.
It was just past midnight, three weeks since they had left for their mission and this was the first time you had gotten any contact to any one of them.
“As of right now, we are not sure if he would make it through the night. If you want we could have you someone fetch you to see him.”
You felt your world still at the news. Just when things were finally moving into the right direction between you and Simon.
“I’ll be there as soon as possible.” You assured hanging up and changing into some sweatshirt and sweatpants.
The travel to the now familiar base was a daze to you as you drove. You weren’t much of a religious person, but your lips did not stop moving as you prayed. You prayed that your husband would be alright, you bargained that you would make things right with him if it meant he would stay.
“Don’t leave me, Simon.” You whispered over and over again until you arrived to the base.
You had ignored most of the surprise that the soldier on duty had shown at your sudden appearance—the fact that you were in just your ratty clothes was also something you chose to ignore as you made a beeline to where the infirmary was.
Huddled in front of the door was your boss, John, Soap, and Gaz. Each and every single one of them injured in their own way—mostly superficial from the bandages that plastered all over their beaten faces.
“John.” You called having three heads turning to you in question. “How is he?” You questioned as the tears begin to fall from your eyes at the reality of the situation coming to crush you. “How is my husband?”
The realization washed over all of them, of the secret you and Simon had hidden from everyone. The weight was too much as you were wrapped in the arms of the family you had found yourself becoming a part of.
“Will he be alright?” You pleaded, holding onto John’s vest. “Please tell me he will be alright.” You begged falling to your knees in front of him.
“The doctors are doing their best, Love.” John reassured kneeling in front of you, wrapping you into his arms as you continued to sob. “But Simon took most of the impact from the explosion.”
The reality scared you so much. You tried you best to remember the last interaction you had with Simon, the hug, the promise of a new beginning, and everything else in between. It all came crashing down to this very point.
There was a very big chance that you will finally lose Simon and it scared you so much more than anything in this world. You couldn’t lose him, not like this, not when there was so much left between the two of you to make up for.
“He can’t leave me, John.” You whimpered. “He promised me he wouldn’t leave me like this.” You screamed at the top of your lungs.
You were made aware of the vows you had made to each other when you got married at the court house. Of how he had promised to the best of his abilities that he wouldn’t die in the line of duty before he could have the chance to retire. He promised you a family, he promised you the world, and he promised you your happiness. He was your family, he was your world, and he was your happiness that you realize only when it was too late.
For the next few weeks, the world around you had become blur. You were now much of a permanent fixture of the Taskforce’s base. Morning and the afternoon was spent still working for Price, especially with the piling number of paperworks the mission had caused and your nights were spent in the infirmary, watching over Simon that has yet to awake from his slumber.
When the doctors had given you the green light that you can see him—it took you hours before you did. Even after John, Soap, and Gaz had finished with their own visit, it took so much of what little strength you had to finally see him in his state.
Broken bones, laceration, head trauma, blood loss and amongst the other injuries that the doctors has informed you should have killed him but he was still alive even in his current state. He still had fight in him, he was still fighting to keep alive.
“I’ve come to realize that post-mission Price was a whole different breed of a grump, more than he usually is.” You began talking to your still unconscious ex.
The doctor had told you about him being able to hear your voice and you took the opportunity to talk his ear off with him unable to give his usual sarcastic comments or grunts as response. There were days you told him about your day at work, days where you told him about what you had been doing since you left your home and tried and failed to move on from him, and there were days where you apologized to him, regretting the divorce and everything else that been the reason for the demise of your marriage.
“I think since the divorce I’ve realized a lot of shit about us.” You sighed leaning against the uncomfortable plastic chair. “If you wake up, I’ll try to do my best to convince you to take me back.” You mused arms crossed against your chest. “I know you don’t have as much of a happy memory after what happened to your family, but when you wake up, I want to make sure we make as much happy memories as we could together, I want you to tell me about what your Ma was like, what kind of brother Tommy was like, and how adorable Joseph was, I want all of that and more with you.”
You wiped away the tears that have yet to fall, you didn’t want to cry. You thought that you didn’t have any more tears to shed. The gravity of almost losing Simon was the wakeup call you needed and now it was nothing more than a waiting game until he wakes up.
“I fucking can’t be your friend, Si.” You admit. “I can’t be happy with just being your friend. I want you to be my husband again, Si. After almost losing you I know I can’t live knowing we haven’t fixed our relationship. I’ll do anything and everything to make it up to you, all the pain and hurt I’ve caused you.”
“Anything?”
You almost jumped from where you sat at the sight of the man whose eyes were now focused on you.
“Simon?”
“Am I just high or did you say what you did?”
“What?”
“That you would make up for everything?” He muttered groggily.
“I did.” You nodded blinking in disbelief that he was here, awake. Alive.
“Then marry me. Let me make it right this time, Love. I promise I’ll make it work, I’ll do my best to make you happy the way that you deserve.”
“Yes.” You answered almost immediately, finding yourself giggling about how ridiculous his second proposal was with his current state—but you didn’t want it any other way.
He requested for you to take his dog tag around his neck off and only then did you notice that your wedding ring enclosed around his necklace. Even with the years that passed, he still had it with him. The very same ring you two had brought together before you had headed to the courthouse for your marriage.
“Can I add another stipulation?” He held onto your free hand.
“Anything.” You smiled rubbing your hand against the callousness of his hand. “Anything to make it work, Si.”
“No more blind dates from the Sergeants.”
“They could never hold a candle to you, Simon.” You giggled leaning in for a kiss, the weight that rested on your shoulders slowly easing away.
You were home, you were back in the arms of Simon after all was said and done.
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flemingsfreckles · 12 hours
Text
Trying Again Part 2
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Jessie Fleming x Reader
Preview: Read Part 1, based off this suggestion, basically this fic just goes through what each month looked like for reader and Jessie once they learned they were expecting.
Warnings: pregnancy fic, morning sickness, discussion of labor/birth (again nothing graphic), suggestive, mentions of sex (nothing explicit), cursing
WC: 3.0k
A/N: this isn’t necessarily a part 2, but it’s kind of a continuation of Trying Again, walking through each month of pregnancy, I’m just labeling it Part 2 because that makes more sense than it being its own fic
Month 1
You nearly miss month 1 just not knowing. You didn’t take the pregnancy test until you were about 3 weeks along. Once you found out Jessie immediately assumed the role of overly prepared parent.
She came home the day after you had given her the positive test with a couple massive shopping bags.
“What on earth did you buy?” You asked her when you saw the pile of bags.
“Just some things. I’ll show you.” She proceeded to unload baby book after baby book on every topic. Books on pregnancy, books on supporting your partner through pregnancy, books on the actual birth process, books on the baby’s first year, books on how to raise a teenager. It was safe to say she had gotten ahead of herself but you couldn’t even fault her. The way she showed you each one with such excitement in her eyes and voice was adorable.
The next bag was filled with other baby items, blankets, clothes, pacifiers, stuffed animals, and a tiny pair of Nike shoes.
“Jessie, the baby will wear those for all of 5 minutes before they fall off and they outgrow them.”
“I know but they’re just so cute and little.” She grinned at the shoes, holding them in her hands. “I can’t believe our baby is going to be this small.”
Month 2
Month two was filled with morning sickness. Jessie is a saint, getting up with you every time, bringing you water and new clothes. She’d gather your hair in her hand, holding it away from your face. She’d get your toothbrush set up with toothpaste and hand it to you once you were done throwing up. She’d help you shower if you wanted to feel refreshed and then she’d tuck you into bed, making sure you were comfortable with a fresh glass of water next to your bedside. She’d hold you tight, in whatever position made you the most comfortable.
Your hormones were starting to jump to extremes. Jessie found you crying on the couch one day over a sock. To be fair to you, the socks didn’t have a match and that upset you deeply. She had held you on the couch while your hand clutched the sock tightly, rubbing your back gently. She then went and found the missing sock. You got angry quickly, she hadn’t told you she was stopping at the store to grab you some snacks and when she got home, later than she had told you to expect her you had been at the door yelling at her. Of course you apologized and also cried when she explained she had just gotten you a little surprise, the basket she held out to you containing snacks, new slippers, some bubble bath, and some baby clothes. You felt guilty for yelling, but you were irritable, tired, and just relatively in a bad mood.
Month two was also when you told your teams. The Chelsea girls first followed by the Lionesses and Canada. Everyone was naturally excited and thrilled for you and Jessie. Niamh was your biggest supporter beside your wife, she was with you on both teams and was Jessie’s eyes and ears when she couldn’t be with you. The girl would get up with you when you got sick, offering you water. She checked in during training, making sure you weren’t feeling ill.
You also both told your families at this time, Jessie’s sister the most excited out of anyone, quick to claim the role of “best aunt”. You were overwhelmed with everyone’s excitement about your baby, you knew they would be so loved by your families both biological and your chosen families you had created.
Month 3
Month three was similar to month two. Your morning sickness continued and Jessie continued to be your biggest support throughout. Your body began to feel more fatigued, you were sleepy all the time, doing nothing but training and sleeping. Jessie cuddled up with you on the couch after training, scratching your back or your scalp. The tiredness also led to more mood swings, you were angry one moment and then crying and then crying tears of joy. Jessie handled it all with grace, you knew you were being a terrible person to her and she didn’t deserve it, but growing a human was a lot of work and it took a huge toll on your body.
Training was becoming harder. Your clothes start to fit differently, your breasts becoming sore that it hurts to run around for long periods of time no matter the sports bra you wore. You were still irritable, the early morning wake ups to be sick did nothing to help your mood. You started to have weird cravings and changes in the foods you liked and disliked.
You had woken up from a nap one afternoon to Jessie cooking what used to be your favorite meal, however when she placed it in front of you, it repulsed you. When Jessie asked you why you weren’t eating it you had to tell her you didn’t want what she made. Jessie of course took no offense to your disgust, getting up from her own plate to immediately start cooking you something else. You cried when she handed you a new meal, overwhelmed with her cooperation and kindness toward you. She just kissed you and told you she’d do anything for you.
It wasn’t an easy month, maybe the worst out of the whole pregnancy but with Jessie’s help and support you made it through, day by day and night by night.
Month 4
Month four was when things settled, your morning sickness started to fade, happening less and less frequently. Month four however was the time when you and your doctor decided it was time to slow down with training and playing. It was a hard couple of days, realizing you were about to take a break from the one constant in your life, but Chelsea was great about it. You still attended the end of season practices and games, just with less and less involvement until you were solely on the sidelines.
You had also developed the sex drive that was through the roof. Jessie would breathe in your direction and you were ready to jump her bones. Jessie couldn’t complain too much about this side effect, she was getting laid everyday. It was fun for her for the first few days. Then she was starting to cramp in her forearms, fingers, her jaw, all sore from the pleasure she was providing you. Her own sex drive was also not affected by hormones; she just wasn’t always in the mood for multiple rounds of sex, every day, but she happily gave you what you needed, often for nothing in return.
Niamh had poked fun to Jessie when the two of you walked in and Jessie looked exhausted while you were grinning ear to ear.
“Long night again?” She bumped Jessie with her shoulder as you walked ahead to your locker.
“Oh my god Niamh, this time it was before bed, then twice in the middle of the night when we were both awake, and then again this morning. My body can only handle so much. I’m sore. I’m sore, from sex!”
“Oh boo hoo Fleming, god forbid your wife wants you to fuck her an insane amount.”
Jessie blushed at Niamh vulgarity. “I know Niamh, and I love her, and she’s literally growing my child, so of course I want to give her everything she needs and wants. And I love having sex with her, but oh my god a person can only take so much, it’s like the second week of this too.”
“Then get something to help.” Niamh shrugged, hoping to help her friend while not upsetting you.
To solve her own pain, Jessie went out and bought you a couple new toys that the two of you could share while preserving her muscles. You were plenty satisfied with the new purchases, enjoying them with Jessie. Jessie was satisfied that she was able to go about her daily tasks and not have her fingers or forearm cramp up on her.
Month 5
This was the month you found out the gender of your baby. You had gone to the doctor to get an ultrasound, when you told the technician you didn’t want to know the gender right away they sealed the reveal in an envelope for the two of you to take and open on your own time. You then gave that envelope off to Magda and Pernille as they were in town, allowing them to set up your gender reveal. They weren’t around as much, you and Jessie had been close with them on Chelsea and wanted them to have a role in your pregnancy. When you asked them to help with this they were ecstatic. You didn’t want anything too crazy or over the top. They had set up a small gathering, you, Jessie, Niamh, Zerica, with Pernille and Magda hosting what made up your small Chelsea family. They had cooked everyone a dinner, making it a nice evening, in addition to the gender reveal.
They had made a cake, covered in a white frosting, the inside cake was dyed pink or blue. You were so excited seeing the cake, you had asked for something simple and not over the top, that’s exactly what they had given you, and it was cake, you loved cake. You and Jessie both held the knife as you cut a slide into the cake while everyone else stood watching, Magda and P watching your and Jessie’s faces, already knowing the gender they didn’t need to watch the knife the way that the rest of you were.
You had burst into tears when you pulled the knife out and the pink tint frosting and cake crumbs clung to the knife. Magda and P both looked horrified at your reaction, not knowing what happened while Jessie, Niamh, and Z laughed. The three of them having a front row seat to your emotional swings everyday at training. Jessie gently rubbed your back through your emotions.
“I’m so happy. I promise.” You really didn’t care what your baby was, you would’ve been an emotional wreck boy or girl. “I’m just so excited.”
Niamh takes the cake and knife away from you, going to cut it up and serve it to everyone. You dry your tears and Z pulls you into a big hug.
“I’m going to make her a keeper.” She whispers to you. “Don’t tell the rest of them.” You laugh into her hug.
Month 6
You were laying on the couch after a long day of doing hardly anything, but everything felt exhausting these days. You couldn’t sleep on your stomach like you usually did. Sleeping on your back was anything but comfortable, and your side wasn’t much better. Your legs hurt, your ankles hurt, your feet hurt, everything was miserable.
You often would just lay on the couch after you and Jessie returned home from training, her practicing, you watching and coaching. Jessie would lay next to you, her hands always finding their way to your belly, gently holding it, drawing circles, she’d lean in, placing her lips to your bump kissing it gently and softly speaking to the baby.
“You’re going to be so loved, you already are so loved. I can’t wait to meet you.”
Jessie had already told the baby about how you two met, all about your first date, how you proposed to her and how she proposed back, she talked about your wedding, she told the baby everything.
Jessie was resting next to you, her ear pressed against your belly as she whispered to the baby, her hand gently caressing your skin. One thing about Jessie was she couldn’t keep her hands off your bump. She always asked to touch you and you always said yes but once you gave her permission, her hands would remain on you as long as she could.
“Hi baby girl”
That’s when you feel it and Jessie feels it. Your baby is kicking. It’s not painful but it’s uncomfortable as you feel the pressure from her foot inside of you.
“Babe?!” Jessie pulls her head from on your stomach, eyes wide in panic as she looks up at you.
“Did you feel that?” You weren’t sure if Jessie felt it outside of your stomach, you felt it inside.
“She kicked! Oh my god she kicked.”
“She kicked!” You exclaimed, bringing your hand back down to where the previous kick had been. Feeling the baby kick again. Jessie looks up at you, her eyes slightly teary.
“That’s our little girl.” Jessie says, her hand on your stomach still, a tear spilling over as she looks at you with love in her eyes. “Our baby.”
You baby kicks a few more times, each time you and Jessie look at each other with big smiles. “With a kick like that she’ll end up a striker like her mama.” Jessie says after one of the stronger kicks she gives you.
“We’ll see, Z said she’s making her a keeper.”
Month 7
You came home from a day out with your own mom to loud noises and voices coming from the extra bedroom that was set to become a nursery. You walk over to the doorway and see your wife, hammer in one hand, the other holding paper instructions. You look further into the room and Niamh, Sam and Zerica are all standing holding various pieces of wood and hardware.
They’re all silent, staring at you as you step into the room.
“You’re not supposed to be home yet!” Jessie looks up at you from the floor. She looks concerned at your early arrival.
“I know but I was starting to not feel great so I had my mom drop me home. What are you all doing?” You look between your three teammates and wife. You’re pretty sure you can figure out what they’re doing but ask anyway.
“It was supposed to be a surprise, we were getting the nursery ready.” Jessie explained to you.
“We’re building the crib.” Sam pipes in, she holds out the piece of wood she’s holding.
You walk further into the room, reaching over to grab some of the tools wanting to help out.
“No!” Jessie says as she bats your hand away from the tools. “Sit there.” She points to what you assume is a newly built rocking chair. “You can watch and yell at us, but no helping, you need rest.”
“Fine.” You sit down on the chair hesitantly, you trusted Jessie when it came to following instructions and building something correctly but you couldn’t say the same for the rest of your teammates. The chair held you, it was surprisingly comfortable. Niamh brought over an ottoman for your feet to rest on and they all got back to work. You watched as the previously empty room became filled with wall decorations and furniture. The girls would ask where you wanted certain pictures or items within the room, it was nice to be involved while not straining yourself too much.
Month 8
You have the baby during the eighth month. 8 months and 3 weeks and a day to be exact. She arrives a little early, no concern to your doctor but her slightly early arrival has Jessie stressing in the hospital room.
“Is it too soon?”
“Babe, the doctors said it’s practically like she’s coming at full term, it’s okay. She’s just 6 days early.” You’re nearly sick from watching Jessie pace laps back and forth across your room. Her hands are either in her hair, picking at her skin, or playing with her shirt, all nervous habits.
Unfortunately your labor was anything but easy. You had started contractions in the middle of the night, you and Jessie rushing to the hospital with nothing except the perfectly packed hospital bag your wife had made.
Despite the rough labor, Jessie was the most perfect partner to have during labor. She did well under stress, despite her earlier nerves once you were actually ready to have the baby she was level headed again. Jessie was attentive to you, bringing you ice chips, new blankets, rubbing your feet, rubbing your back. She was advocating for you whenever the opportunity arose. When you decided you wanted an epidural after trying to tough out the pain for 7 hours, she didn’t question you, she happily held your hand as the medicine was put in your back.
It wasn’t until 12 hours after you had gotten to the hospital that your baby girl made her arrival. Jessie let you squeeze her hand so hard you were convinced you were going to break it and she never complained once. She helped you by holding one of your legs as she pressed her forehead to yours, whispering words of encouragement and praise. She occasionally would look, wanting to see her baby girl despite her being adamant that she wasn’t going to look prior to arriving at the hospital, she was worried about getting queasy, she didn’t always do well with blood.
When your daughter finally came out crying they placed her quickly onto your bare chest quickly followed by a blanket.
“You’re incredible. That was amazing, I love you.” Jessie whispered with tears running down her face. Her eyes look between you and your daughter on your chest. You got to watch as Jessie cut the umbilical cord, a huge grin across her face.
Nurses then took your daughter, cleaned her up and swaddled her into a soft pink blanket. They come to hand back your daughter to you, you look over to your wife who’s patiently standing watching you, she hasn't yet gotten to hold your little girl.
“You want to hold her?” You ask and Jessie just nods at you. The nurse passes Jessie the bundle with your daughter wrapped inside.
You watch as Jessie holds your daughter for the very first time, you get emotional, tears welling up. Jessie looks up to you, her eyes matching yours, on the brink of tears.
“Thank you for making me a mom.”
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beatrixstonehill2 · 3 days
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"Ughhhh, it happened again! I swear this is almost every time I go out these days, it's getting ridiculous! I was out running errands, about to get some coffee, when I took a moment to hold my belly and pant a bit. You know, normal contractions every girl carrying quintuplets gets like constantly. I'm only six months along! But I guess an ambulance parked nearby saw it and, well, you know the new laws. Basically pregnant girls are public property, and at least in my line of work (school teacher), I have to maintain a pregnant physique or I can get fined, even lose my job. Same with healthcare, food service, retail, hospitality.... Most jobs, honestly. Welcome to Georgia, I guess. Still happy I got transferred here a couple years ago but these laws are a bit out of hand.....
Speaking of which! The ambulance pulls up, two men come out. I try to stop them but they insist on testing me for signs of labor. I explain that I'm only six months and they tell me to be quiet so they can do their jobs. They remove my clothes with scissors and shoot me up with some kind of opioid that makes me really loopy and high. They take me to the hospital as the men take videos of me on their phones, spreading my legs, showing off my pussy, spreading it open under the guise of looking for how dilated I am. But they were literally playing with my pussy, rubbing it, sticking their fingers in with gloves, shoving instruments into it. At one point about seven different instruments were jammed into my pussy and I came, squirted all over. They got mad and told me if I act up like that they can't perform their jobs. I apologized for cumming.
They took me in and surprise-surprise, the ER was full of pregnant girls. Some were texting on their phones, shaking their heads as they got C-sections, filming themselves having it done, as others impatiently waited to be stitched up afterwards, grumbling about just wanting to go home and get knocked up again already. Aloof male nurses and physicians would pass them by and tell them not to be so impatient, that they were very busy...... mostly just probing and abusing cute pregnant girls.
They ran their 'tests'..... again, happened to me just a few days ago. So I'm used to it. They squeeze my tits and got 'milk samples'. I have to give them urine samples, over and over, as I piss with no privacy in a busy auditorium they used as an ER, full of girls like me, with various lines for either labor, forced C-sections, or general 'testing'. They of course gave me an enema, in a crowded room, complaining about the mess I was making as other girls were subjected to the same in one corner that was all tile with some showerheads. We were sprayed off and dried off as they had salon workers there doll us up before we were subjected to 'labor sensitivity testing'.
I tried explaining that I'm six months but they had ten different men with huge cocks fuck my pussy. A few even tried my ass, too, to see if I was susceptible to being induced. Nope. My womb can handle all the punishment Georgia can throw at it. I commute on public transportation, doesn't matter how pregnant I am, men try to fuck the babies out of me, like, every day. No luck! So, after that they told me I was OK'd to go home, as my babies weren't quite big enough for them to put me in the C-section area with all those other bored influencer girls.
So, with my hospital bracelet, purse, and jewelry as my only clothing, they spanked me on my way out the door of the hospital and told me not to be a stranger. I walked home naked, got fucked about ten times on the way back. I was even paid by a few guys who thought I was turning tricks. Guess I can add whore to my resume now. I even got fucked in line, paying for my coffee. The man behind me didn't say a word. I started paying and he just rammed his cock in me and started fucking me. Big fat nerdy guy, but his cock was big. Probably hasn't showered in a week. Instead of telling him to stop having his way with me, another cashier opened a different register, and they said nothing until he came inside me, spanked me, then smacked my belly a few times while climaxing. The cashier finally told me I was holding up the line after that, and I left, not before one of my neighbors fucked me as I checked our mailbox. He apologized afterword and told me I look incredibly sexy so pregnant. I thanked him and reminded him I'm only six months.... Now it's time for a shower. After that I might go back out. Who knows.... another ambulance might spot me. ❤️"
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simplydnp · 5 hours
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be honest with me. what are the chances of a hard launch in june
anon this question goes back years. and the thing is. we have been right once before.
you ask me this this time last year? fuck no. i might even quip that dapg would come back before dnp would hard launch. well. look at us now.
and even then, you look back on the content they started with in the revival--it honestly kind of felt exactly like where we left off, only a lot more explicitly queer (we stan). and then... trying to see without my glasses 2. and bang, spooky week happened. and that shifted the balance. we suddenly got slo-mo replays of handholds. day, after day, after day, finishing with the absolute masterpiece of halloween baking cinnamon rolls. in all honesty it was so much more than i'd've ever expected from them. truly another post-baking universe.
and it never really slowed down. suddenly we had cat prom photos, catboy butlers, catboy dan w/ phil photography credit, theyre 'wrestling' --running us full throttle into gamingmas, the first since 2017. and every day we had a new thing to freak out over: standing close. golf jokes. and then... pinof reacts. i don't know what compelled them to do it but i do have speculations. genuinely, i think they wanted to defang a lot of their history. we treated pinof 1, especially, with this... reverance. and it wasn't talked about too publicly--and dnp didnt do it either. so if they really wanted to move on, to bring down the walls, open the floodgates, define this new era: they had to throw the first stone. and they did. quite heartily too. suddenly this almost taboo part of their history--almost too intimate to be perceived--was on the table. and we were talking about it. joking about it. giving clear signals of 'we see it, it's okay.' and suddenly we existed in a post-pinof reacts world. of anything, i would've never predicted they would've done that. absolutely wild. follow that with it takes two being so chill and fond. incohearant being so blatant and heartfelt. trombone champ being unhinged and chaotic. the genuine and sweet complimenting of each other in the red carpet video. devan wedding... happilyphoreverafter... we crashed forward in time. never knowing what would be next. where is the line? how far will they go.
they teased us with japhan honeymoon and we knew 2024 would be wild. but we didn't know how much. from wdapteo 2023, to specific reminiscing about japan w/ devan, WAD happening, and phil playing a huge role in it all--from the orange carpet hosting, to 'ive been in *sex noises* with phil from the start!', to 'remote crisis manager phil lester', to dan saying he can stay during the thank you.
one of the biggest videos so far this year was the tiktok likes one. i will be forever haunted by the dog eating cheeseburger and willy wonka tiktoks--theres some things i was never meant to know. and yet. they tell us. explicitly.
every single video on amazingphil since the return of dapg has mentioned or featured dan. there's been a palpable shift in the way they interact. have you seen the way phil has been glowing in videos lately? this guy is on cloud nine all the time. it's really not hard to see why.
the energy of keep or yeet w/ dan... the absolute Lack of pretense of it all. phan twitter... watch your step baby girl...
dan and phil fucking crafts. talk about an unexpected return. legacy defining, one might even say. we're still in this tailspin of what everything means and they drop this insanely iconic video on us. from the storytelling to the production to the aesthetic--and its all capped off by explicit handholding. yes, it was part of the sacrifice. but hand in hand, the heart dan ripped from phils chest in one, and the knife that did it in the other... oh boy. we're really in it now. and then they put it on fucking merch. genius. truly no one does it like them.
and the foot has been on the accelerator since. dan and phil connections, shuffleboard & mocktails, getting deep slumber party, acknowledgement & approval of fics (yes previously given but never like this)--hell, even the sims today was wild for 'is their love language horrible banter 👀'.
you didn't ask for an essay but i gave you one. all of this to say, they've been moving the line. quite intentionally so. they intentionally revived their joint branding. they are 'dan and phil' again, and seem happier than ever about it, and i think that means something. they're saying things they never would have before--out of the closet or not.
as for june... 5 years since coming out is a big deal. so is this year being 15 years of dnp. hell, so is this year for being the first out pride month where they're explicitly a duo and regularly making content together. they're sentimental, there will be something.
my craziest idea is reacting to their coming out videos ✌️😔 --but i don't think it'll actually happen. as for more realistic, i could see pride merch. and however that goes will be significant, in my opinion. i'm excited and curious.
i don't know if they'll hard launch. it's hard to put all of the implications, complications, and speculations back into the box once it's opened. dan's talked about it before--wanting to be able to fuck up and not be publically executed, instead, being able to learn and grow and work it out. i think that's a very understandable stance to have. very grounded. we'd have to ask him if tour/dapg has changed that now. i do think he's had some sort of life epiphany--whether it's about that specifically, only he can say. but i think it's there.
even if i portray a lot of level-headedness, i wear my clown nose with pride. sometimes the only option is to go with whatever is funniest at the time. they're both jokesters, so they could commit to a bit like that. but it's also like, it can be too serious for them to want to joke about. i don't know. i think we're in this almost beautiful state right now--the we know you know of it all. there's no expectations, no demands to be met, no obligations of types of content. they're happy. we're happy. it depends on if they feel ready. if they want to. we'll be here, always.
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gglitch1dd · 13 hours
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Well... aren't you a pretty doll? Pt 4
Army Soldier Midoriya Izuku x Secretary Reader
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Context: After having spilt your drink on the man, you finally meet him for dancing.
Note: Set in the 1940s/1950s
[PART 3] [Well… aren’t you a pretty doll- Masterlist]
“One… two… three… smile!” The picture was taken as you stood next to Midoriya with a bright smile on your face. He pulled you in for a hug, bright smiles on both of your faces. You couldn’t have been happier. Today was your wedding day and you felt like the luckiest girl in the world to marry the man you loved more than anything in the entire world.
He placed a gentle peck to your lips, finally being allowed to do so in public now that you were both married. Midoriya had the brightest smile on his face as he looked down at you. His eyes were filled with nothing but love for you right now as you stood in your white wedding dress. It had belonged to your mother but just had some few adjustments to suit the modern day and suit you even more.
“Alright, you two.” Bakugou let out with a roll of his eyes, despite how annoyed he seemed, the man was dressed in his best uniform, formally pressed and his hair done just for the occasion. “Enough with all the lovey dovey hum bug.”
Eijiro chuckled as he had an arm around Mina as she stood next to him. “Aww, let them be, Katsuki. You only get married once.” He spoke from experience as he had Mina at his side.
“Come to think of it,” Midoriya started speaking as he looked down at the watch on his right wrist. “It’s time we best be going, doll.”
You hummed. “Alright then.”
Your dashing husband (something you felt giggly about just saying), put his hand to the curve of your back before putting his other hand up with a smile and a wave. “We’ll be heading off now.” He stated as you both started heading away from the front of the chapel and towards his car.
“Enjoy the three days off!” Kaminari shouted, the moment you looked away Kaminari, Sero and Sato made gestures and wiggling eyebrows that made Midoriya roll his eyes but smirk. “We’ll see yall soon! Have fun!”
“You treat her right, Izuku!”
Your green haired husband ignored the words from his friends as he helped you into the car, and the both of you were off. You couldn’t believe you were married. Just sitting next to him now was a dream come true. A year ago, you would have never believed that you were married to the man of your dreams, that you signed the certificate and changed your name to Mrs Midoriya.
Midoriya had a resting smile on his face, one that hadn’t left the entire day and you couldn’t exactly blame him, he was excited and so were you. Excited for this new life together you would be living.
He soon parked outside the new little home you had both bought. Nothing fancy but it was perfect for a start. You giggled as you saw it. “There it is!”
Midoriya laughed as he stepped out of the car first before moving to get you out from the passenger seat. Your feet were barely on the ground for five seconds before Midoriya swooped you into his arms making you shout in surprise. He had a big grin on his face as he kicked the car door closed and moved towards the front door.
“Sorry, Y/N but I always wanted to try this since I was a boy.” He told you excitedly as he brought you up the two steps of the porch up to the front door. He moved to unlock the door, holding you with one arm for a moment, catching you off guard at such strength. Once the door was opened, he went back to holding you in his arms. He looked down at you. “Time for me to carry you through the threshold of our first home together, doll.” He spoke lowly, his eyes on you and nothing else.
You moved to wrap your arms around his neck and you smiled. You put your noses together. “Together.”
He couldn’t help the full blown grin on his face as he kissed your lips for a few seconds making you melt in his arms. He separated with a soft chuckle before carrying you across the threshold into your new house. You looked around at your home. It was nowhere as big as your parents house, but you loved it even more. This was the home you and your husband would occupy. The thought made you warm inside.
Midoriya carefully put you down onto your own two feet. “So what do you think? Spruced it up myself.” He told you.
You turned to him with an excited look on your face. “Oh Izuku, I love it!” You told him honestly as you quickly moved around to check the ins and outs. You picked up the skirt of your dress as you went walking to the kitchen. The setting sun cascaded a dark orange glow around the house. “The kitchen is wonderful!” You told him honestly. “I have counter space.” You walked back into the entrance hall by the living area with a smile. “Oh…”  You put a hand over your mouth. “We can entertain our friends here for poker nights!” You motioned to the dining table as you looked at him. You quickly looked towards the back. You gasped. “YOU GOT ME-”
“A washing line.” Izuku chuckled with his arms folded as he watched you in fascination to how excited you were over a small house that you could now call all your own.
You let out an excited squeal as you went back over to him. “Now I don’t have to hang clothes inside anymore.” You told him happily. “Was that a hen house I saw outside?”
“Mhm.” He nodded his head. “They’re coming in tomorrow and next thing you know, we’ll be having eggs in the morning.” He had his hands on your hips as you smiled up at him as though he gave you the world, which you felt like he did. He took you gently, guiding you further into the house to the bedroom hallways. “Then there’s our room and the spare.” He motioned to the left and to the right.
You turned your attention to the room on the left, the spare one. It didn’t have much inside other than some of your and his boxes from when you had your things moved here. You looked around at the blank room that had so much potential. “What are we going to do with this one?” You asked. “Is it storage?”
“Well…” Midoriya started as he walked slowly over to you, moving to stand behind you, his head moving to rest on your shoulder. “It could be junior’s room.”
You turned to look at him with a face that felt like it had been right in front of the fire. You raised an amused eyebrow at the green haired soldier. “Junior?” You asked with a soft giggle. “My, my, Izuku. I thought we just got married five minutes ago?”
He chuckled as he buried his pink face in the crook of your neck. “I can’t help it doll.” He let out lowly with a kiss to your neck. “With you in my life, I couldn’t help but think about it.” Slowly he took you by the hand and pulled you over to the master bedroom.
You looked around with wide eyes at the room. A bed for the both of you, a dresser too with side tables too. Before your husband could open his mouth and speak, you turned around and started pushing him outside. “Out.”
“Huh?!” He asked surprised.
“I need to get ready, and I can’t do that if you’re here. Out, out you large man!” You hearded him out of the room with light shoves before closing the door in his face.
Your poor husband was probably so confused but you had to calm your racing heart. Your mother had told you about what would happen on your wedding night, she had told you about the likes of any committed relationships between two grown consenting adults. So you knew that now was the time for something you had decided to wait for marriage to do. You took a deep breath as you got to work on undoing your dress.
It took some shuffling, tripping, a five minute pep talk and your best perfume before you cleared your throat, opening the door. “Izuku.”
You didn’t even have to wait long as not more than three seconds later, your man appeared in the doorway. “Am I finally allowed in doll, cause-” Midoriya stopped talking as his eyes landed on you.
You sat on the bed with your hands on your knees. You weren’t sure what to do as you sat in a short nightgown. You tried to fight off embarrassment as you looked away from him. You cleared your throat as you shuffled. “W-well?”
Midoriya was speechless as he took slow steps closer to you. His pupils were blown out, leaving small slivers of green. He let out a stuttered breath as he cupped your face in his large hands. “You look gorgeous, Y/N.” He told you gently, making you smile. “Are… are you sure you want to do this?” He asked you genuinely.
You put a hand over his own. “I am.” You nodded your head. “However, Mina told me that I might just make a mess. I’m not sure what she meant but I’m sorry if I do.”
Izuku paused before the side of his mouth twitched in a smirk as his eyes went half lidded with a dark veil of lust over his eyes. “I think you’ll be alright doll.”
You both jolted out of bed at the loud abrupt sound. You gripped the mattress as everything started to shake. Before you could even respond, Izuku quickly got out of bed and went to grab your dressing gown. “Honey, we got to go.” He told you, his voice trying to be louder than the distant bombings.
You shakily got out of bed but stumbled into his arms. “An air raid?” You asked.
He nodded his head, and when you looked up at him, you were surprised. The look on his face wasn’t one like yours. It wasn’t fear nor anxiety. It was almost as if a switch flipped. It was a dull empty look in his eyes that you had never seen before. Midoriya held you as you just managed to slip on your gown but then another bomb fell nearby making you shriek and by instinct cover your head.
Midoriya picked you up, sweeping you off your feet and started racing out of your bedroom. He opened the back door and looked up at the sky. Planes flew over head, the dull flags of your enemies painted at the bottom. He frowned but raced down the steps to the backyard fence. You saw some of your new neighbours that you had just got to meet a week ago after your wedding, were going down the alley at the back of your houses.
You saw Kirishima and Mina, the large redhead motioned to the both of you, still shirtless from bed and Mina had her curlers in and was in her night gown. “Come on!”
Midoriya carried you as you raced to the bomb shelter that was nearby for your block of the neighbourhood. He slid down the dug out where an officer in uniform stood with the door open. He motioned for all of you to come inside. Midoriya placed you down on your feet, allowing you to enter with him as you and other neighbour’s stood together huddled in the bomb shelter. Just as Kirishima stepped in, with Mina in front of him, another one went off.
You gripped onto Midoriya who held an arm over your head and kept you against him, a serious look on his face as the shelter shook for a moment at the sound and impact. You felt tears in your eyes, but you held him for dear life as the lights flickered.
“Izuku, we just got married a week ago!” You stressed as you stood in your army secretary uniform.
Your husband combed his hair back. “I know doll, but it’s gotten real serious now. They are calling out everyone to head out.” He told you honestly. If he could stay here with you, he would. The week that you were married was heaven on earth. It was a week where he could forget he was a soldier and the two of you were just two young people happy and in love. Just twenty-one and happily together. However, the bombs were horrible last night and in the early hours of the morning after the bombs had stopped, a call came. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
And that was the reassurance he told you even as you stood by the train going to wish him off. You frowned as you hugged him for dear life, your arms wrapped around him, afraid he would slip fade away. He placed a kiss on your forehead. “I’ll be right back.” He whispered.
You buried your face in his shirt and nodded. “Come back to me.” You whispered.
“I always will.”
“Don’t get yourself killed, Izuku.”
“I promise I won’t, doll.” He moved to tilt your head up to look at him, a gentle smile on his freckled face. “We’ve got the rest of our lives together.” He reminded you. “And everytime I look at this…” He pulled out a silver locket, a locket that revealed a picture of you. You eased at the beautiful item. You had got him the locket as a wedding present but you didn’t know that he would put that photo there. He smiled at the look on your face. He pointed down to it. “I’ll remember what I’m fighting for.” He reminded you.
You sighed but nodded your head. You held your hands towards yourself, knowing that if you didn’t you’d never let go of him and end up following him onto the train. He gave you a tip of his hat as he turned to board the train. You felt fear wash over you as tears flooded your eyes. “Remember I packed you and your friend’s scones! Eat while you can!” You called after him as the train let out a chuft as all the men started boarding.
He smiled at you as you watched him disappear on. You tried following the few glimpses of him further as he entered another cart where you saw other soldiers you knew. Midoriya chuckled as he peaked out the window at you. “I promise I will, doll.”  He called out to you.
“Also sleep while you can! A delirious man is a dead man!” You called out to him. “I put your rosary in your pocket so don’t forget about it! Pray every night, Midoriya Izuku, I mean it!”
A loud chuckle came as Kirishima put an arm around Midoriya, with a sharp smile on his face. “Don’t worry, Y/N. We’ll keep him alive for yah!” he told you. You gave him a grateful smile. Mina let out a nervous sigh as she looked up at her husband. Kirishima gave his wife an air kiss. “I’ll see you soon Mina!”
Mina looked up at her husband as she clutched at her necktie in anxiety.
You looked back up to Midoriya and tried giving him somewhat of a smile, just for him. He looked at you with a gentle one but then you saw it slowly start to dissipate. He frowned for a moment before he pushed forward. “BOYS!” He shouted at the new cadets that were far too green to be sent to war yet but they stood on standby. Some of them jolted at being called out from a higher ranking officer. “Lift up my wife please!” He motioned towards you. They quickly scrambled over to you, making your eyes widen. “And don’t you dare grab her behind! Any one of you get smart ideas and I’m making sure there’s an extra seat on this train just for you!” He shouted making some of the other soldier on board with you laugh.
You were lifted up onto two shoulders and hosted up halfway closer towards your husband. He took off his hat as he basically pushed half himself out the window, Kirishima and Sato holding him so he didn’t fall out. With one arm he pulled you close to him and pulled you into a needy kiss. You ignored the cheering from soldiers and the heat on your cheeks as you held his face in your hands. For that moment, there was just you and a man who didn’t want to go to war, didn’t want to fight in this hellish bickering of leaders, but he was going for you.
The train let out a whistle and he separated from you. Tears lined his eyes as he looked down at you. “I’ll write to you everyday doll. Everyday that I can! I promise you!”
You were put down back on your feet as you held your hankerchief with his initials on it. You tried to wipe the tears but you gave up. You waved to him. “I’ll be waiting!” You told him.
Mina stood beside you as you finally took a few steps back just as the train let out steam, ready to leave. “I haven’t told Eijiro.” She finally revealed.
You looked at her wide eyed. “You haven’t!” You asked shocked. “Well Mina you have to tell him now! You don’t know how long he’ll be gone.”
She glanced at you and then at the train. She let out an angry groan but quickly ran up. “Eijiro! EIJIRO!”
“HUH?” Kirishima peaked his head out as he looked to his wife. Her pink curled hair framed her beautiful brown face. He smiled as he waved his hand. “Bye Mina!”
“NO! Eijiro!” She let out frustrated as she looked up at him. “I’m-“ The train let out another whistle as the gears creaked as the train started to move.
“WHAT!” He shouted as he squinted to try and read her lips.
Mina broke into a brisk jog. “I’M PREGNANT!” She shouted up at him as she ran next to the train.
“You’re-” Kirishima’s big ruby eyes widened in shock, as he looked at her bone pale. His hands gripped the window tightly as he nearly leaned out the window the entire way, his red hair blowing in the wind. “YOU’RE WHAT!?”
“YOU’RE GOING TO BE A DADDY!” She shouted as she stopped running, halting at the railing that forbid her from going any further. She took a few steps back as she watched her husband disappear as the train kept chufting on. Tears went to her eyes as she covered her mouth.
You walked up to her and pulled her into a hug. “It’s okay. We’ll be okay.” You assured her.
“What did she say?” Midoriya asked him as him and Sato finally pulled him back into the train cart.
Kirishima looked as if he was out of his body for a moment as he shakily sat down on the leather seat with wide eyes. Bakugou raised an eyebrow wondering what got the redhead so spooked. He let out a stuttered breath. “I’m going to be a daddy.” He let out unsure.
At that news, Midoriya looked at him surprised before laughs spilled out all around. Supportive pats on the back and shoves were sent Kirishima’s ways. “Congratulations, Eijiro!”
Kirishima put his hands in his hair. “And I left her all alone.” He let out pale. “I know she’s a strong woman and hell would rather freeze over than her give up on something but…”
Midoriya saw the fear in his eyes, not at being a father but at leaving his wife and unborn child alone during such an important and scary time in their lives. He leaned over to his friend that was opposite him. “Eijiro.” He put his hand on Kirishima’s shoulder. The redhead turned his ruby eyes to look up at the green haired man. Midoriya gave him a smile. “We are leaving behind some strong women, they’ll be just fine. But you’ve aught to remember, we fight for them. We fight for our wives, and our families. That’s why you’re here and she is back there. No one likes war, but we fight to save those we love.”
-Glitch1d
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siythn · 3 days
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Worth The Wait
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LEVIXREADER! Working for the hit T.V show, Attack on Titan has truly given you many memories and opportunities. You knew you got along with your Co-Star, Levi Ackerman, a bit different than everybody else. The question was, did he notice it too? _______ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ♫ lover - taylor swift ❝ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ'ʟʟ ꜱᴀᴠᴇ ᴀʟʟ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴅɪʀᴛɪᴇꜱᴛ ᴊᴏᴋᴇꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴛᴀʙʟᴇ, ɪ'ʟʟ ꜱᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀ ꜱᴇᴀᴛ❞
You were four years old when you got your first acting gig. It was a commercial for a clothing brand that you've long forgotten; to say you'll never forget what it soon brought you later on is an understatement.
The grandeur of Oscar night welcomes you the moment you step onto the red carpet, the flashes of cameras and people calling out your name create a symphony of blinding lights, and clicks, with overbearing noise you can't quite make out.
Your assistant guides you and your "plus one" (a teasing nickname that arose when someone recognized you and not Levi when grabbing lunch), who just is your co-star and closest friend; Levi Ackerman, past the shouts of photographers trying to capture a moment of two well-known actors for Attack on Titan's critical acclaim.
To say Attack On Titan wasn't a huge hit was an insulting statement. It's proved itself by its many awards won over the years. It's bringing home one or more Oscars tonight to sit pretty for the rest to celebrate.
But for you, the real turmoil churns inside your stomach and into your already existing nerves as you await the category of Best Supporting Actress—your category. 
Working with the cast who's seen you grow as an actor, most importantly; a person from the start is enough fulfillment for you. To share experiences that are one of a household is short of a blessing.
But when you heard the news you were nominated for an Oscar, nothing could've prepared you for the rush of emotions that was to come. With the satisfaction you already gained with Attack On Titan; being considered to be a real winner was the cherry on top.
The famous show has been your haven for years now. It's where your career took one for the books; where your name became one familiar. You remember your first day on set, the bundle of anxiety that sat in your stomach and never quite left until you got to understand the people you would be calling your family in interviews.
One person clicked differently from the rest. Levi Ackerman is someone you'd consider a best friend or even more. To be real, you couldn't even figure out your feelings for yourself, which led you to swear you'd never admit it due to sheer embarrassment. Plus, it seems quite scandalous to have a "crush" on a co-star you've been so dear with.
It never stopped the fans though.
They have long picked up on the chemistry between you two, both on-screen and off. Your characters, connect in ways of war, along with the unspoken tension that fans adore. You weren't complaining since it brought more media attention, but the cast always had a field day when an interviewer brought it up. 
Long over the years of working together, your bond became inseparable. Close moments in the set transcribed to real life with the both of you.
Meeting him for the first time is always a funny story since both of you seemed to hold distaste for the other. When you sucked up the courage to confront him at his trailer as to why he hated you so much, you received a dumbfounded look. With crossed arms, he claimed, "I thought you hated me, so I just assumed you wanted space."
You two become closer and closer from that day on. Not to boost his ego—but his presence alone is a force in itself. The familiarity of his nearness is a comfort you've latched onto.
And, with the way you're latched onto his arm, grip tightening as the minutes fly by, anyone could pick up a clue.
You've been grasping his arm for who knows how long, but not a word of complaint has come from Levi yet. You feel bad, but your nerves are a title wave compared to the guilt.
Levi, ever the calm, senses how tense you are as he stares. "Just breathe," he whispers, leaning close enough that his words only reach your ear in the chaos.
You feel his breath grazing your neck, before pulling away with a soft nod; making sure his comforting words reach you. With a brief nod, you continue being directed to your seats.
As you and the cast find your seats, located in the middle with fancy chairs and decorum; you thank every high being you can think of when you see your name tag, then Levi's name, sitting right next to you.
"Oh no, look who's sitting next to me," Confused, you look to see Hange pulling in her chair as she sits. Levi, noticing your gaze, nudges your shoulder to redirect your stare. Following it, you find yourself looking back at your name.
"Shut up," You mumble, releasing the hold you have on his arm to smack him slightly, in return he gives you a grin. 
Being sat at one of the tables, in the Dolby Theatre, is as surreal as it might sound. You can't take your eyes off the gravitating stage. You wonder if you'll be standing up there in a bit.
As the night progresses, the time for Best Supporting Actress draws near. You haven't moved from your seat in the dim glow of the theater, too hot and overwhelmed. Levi's hand finds yours again under the table, his grip firm. It feels different this time, probably considering how you're holding his hand rather than grasping onto his forearm.
From the corner of your eye, you can see him watching you, not bothering to watch what's happening on the big stage. "No matter what happens, we celebrate tonight," he assures you, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
"I think that's just an excuse for drinking." With a suppressed laugh and a smile matching Levi's, he gives you a snarky glare, he responds with a "watch out" kind of look, and a squeeze of his hand.
The lights dim and brighten, continuing the show even though you feel stuck in one. In this grand theatre, spotlighting the famous and the influential, there you are, seated next to Levi, your hand clasped tightly in his.
It's comical to think about.
As the category for Best Supporting Actress shows up in big bold letters, your heart pounds like it's trying to beat right out of your chest. You can practically hear your blood pumping.
You're nominated this is it; is what goes through your mind over and over, and the reality is as daunting as it is thrilling.
Your palm sweats against Levi's, but he gives your hand another reassuring squeeze. When you glance at him, he offers you a small, confident nod, as if he knows a secret you don't.
The presenter takes the stage, envelope in hand, and the murmur of the room hushes. "And now," the presenter begins, her voice echoing throughout the grand auditorium, "the nominees for Best Supporting Actress."
Your heart skips a beat as your face appears on the screen, a well-known clip from Attack on Titan, Season Four. It shows an emotional moment, a scene that took you weeks to prepare for; and fuck did you do it well, the tears pouring down your face add to the dramatics.
You can hear your cast and others cheer and clap, long before it's interrupted by another face, one of your competitors.
In your peripheral vision, you can see a cameraman waltz towards you, ready to get your reaction to who wins the Oscar. Hopefully, the tablecloths are long.
Your heart pounds in your ears, drowning out the next few moments until the sharp sound of your name cuts through, clear and irrevocable. "And the Oscar goes to. . .,"
The presenter takes so long to open the envelope, to the point where you don't care who wins or loses. You want the anticipation to be over with.
With a tiny cough to clear up her voice, the presenter's voice is loud and clear and she presses her lips close to the mic. ". . . with Attack on Titan!"
At first, you don't even hear your name. Not even realizing you won, you open your closed eyes; that you didn't know were shut, to see multiple eyes staring right at you, the camera now shoved into your face.
A surge of disbelief washes over you, followed swiftly by adrenaline that rockets through your veins. As reality sets in, tears well up in your waterline, a few escape, running down to meet makeup that took your stylist a good hour.
You can't care though, it's a testament to the journey and the struggles that brought you here.
You can't even get up from your seat at first, you just sit trying to process this tremendous wave of emotions. You look to the left of you to see that Levi is already feet before you, his applause thunderous, joined by the cheers of your peers.
As you stand, overwhelmed, he reaches out, cupping your checks gently wiping away your tears with a laugh. "Hey, no tears now, get up there," he teases gently, pulling you into a hug, as you choke up a laugh and hold him right, slightly rocking the both of you right to left.
Letting go of the warmth of his embrace, you give him a smile, ear to ear; hoping it can express the amount of gratitude you hold for him in this moment.
Moving from your seat to approach other members of the cast you love, you hug and thank each one of them that's near as they shout congratulations at you. You know your time is limited; you give one final hug to Armin who's in your reach before speed walking towards the stage.
Making your way up where your face is plastered and a few new clips play, your dress falls long behind you as you rush up the steps, making quick work but not enough to trip and fall over your heels. Walking up to the presenter, you first greet her with a hug and kiss on the cheek. With a few words of congrats, she hands you the award.
Its solid weight feels real in your hands, it's something you'd never imagine having the privilege to hold let alone have. It'll forever be a tangible reminder of the years of hard work and passion you've poured into your career.
Approaching the microphone, you look out at the sea of faces—some familiar, some not—all smiling at you. There's so so so many people, is all you can think of as you release a sigh.
"Wow, um," you let out a laugh, wiping down the tears that continue to flow down. You pause, taking in the light that beams down before you start your speech.
"I honestly don't even know where to start. Thank you so much to the Academy for this incredible honor, to our director, and the amazing cast and crew of Attack on Titan. This is a dream I've never dared to dream."
You pause, collecting your thoughts and the courage to articulate the depth of your gratitude. That's when it hits you.
Your eyes scan the crowd until they rest on Levi. "And I need to say a special thank you to my co-star, Levi Ackerman," you continue, your voice already starting to crack. "Levi, you have been my rock through this entire journey. On-screen, you challenge me to push harder, and off-screen, you keep me sane. I can honestly say I wouldn't be standing here without your friendship and support. Thank you for being so, so amazing."
With a side glance, you see the camera cut from you to Levi, capturing his slight blush and proud smile, expressions that send another wave of cheers through the audience.
"Most importantly, my family and friends. I can't make up the words to describe all my love for you. My parents, who supported me always, and my siblings who even though always tense me," you smile at the memories, "were the ones always there. And as always, the fans. I would never be here without all of you, I love each and every one of you from the bottom of my heart!"
As you finish your speech, the crowd erupts into applause. The noise is so loud, and with the few people yelling their hearts out, it's a moment of realization that this is real. You feel a hot blush rising your neck as you take a few bows, before hushing off backstage.
You are greeted with a glass of champagne, as camera crews gather around, calling your name in all different directions to try and snap a photo of you still holding the Oscar before you take off for interviews.
There, it seems like a press conference. More people are there than before, and many of them are out with microphones and notepads already prepared. You hear a few clicks of photos being taken as you answer questions, but you can't help but laugh when they ask about Levi and the special shoutout you gave him. "I had to give what was due," was your answer.
Finally being released, you're escorted backstage to your seat, in doing so, a few give you bright smiles and nods of compliments for your win. You return them all with smiley whites.
As you arrive back at your table, some of the members of your cast excitingly greet you, reaching out their hands with yours to give praise.
When the previous moments seem to have died down, you can focus on Levi. Who's been patiently waiting for his turn. When your eyes fall on him, you know the words before it comes out of his mouth.
"Told you," he murmurs, as he takes your free hand in his, his pride in you shining brightly. "I still can't believe it," as he places both of your hands onto his lap, you take the next step to intertwine them.
You don't know what his reaction was to it, since you looked away as soon as you made the move, embarrassment written across your features. You feel accomplished when he doesn't show any sign of breaking it.
Levi leans over, whispering, "How does it feel, Oscar-winning actress?"
You chuckle, a light, bubbly sound that matches the champagne bubbles you'd enjoyed earlier. "It feels like I'm dreaming. Don't let me wake up, okay?"
Levi's response is a soft, genuine laugh. "I won't. We're just getting started, you know."
ૢ་༘࿐
The shots you took with Connie, Sasha, and Jean are taking a toll on your body now. You feel tipsy, well that's what you're hoping. It's not that dizzy, but the occasional bumping into people/things and apologizing with slurred words shows you're not sober.
As the glittering after-party unfolds around you, the music thrumming and laughter echoing under the luxurious chandeliers,
You can feel someone's intense gaze fixated on you. When you move your eyes to search for the culprit, you find Levi's eyes rock hard on you.
Realizing you're now straight directly at him, he excuses himself from a group of producers and makes his way to you. Your heart races a bit, a reaction you're still getting used to despite the months of filming together.
"Need some air?" he asks, a knowing smile tugging at his lips as if he can read your mind. Without waiting for your reply, he nods toward a quieter balcony area. You follow, grateful for a break from the overwhelming crowd.
The cool night air is a welcoming relief, the city lights below providing a soft, romantic backdrop that you try not to read too much into.
The cold air feels blissful as it hits your skin, you know you should have something to cover yourself, but the feelings to nice to let go. Plus, the way Levi's aligned shoulder to shoulder with you making his body height seep onto yours, you know you can last a few more moments here.
Yet, there's an undeniable tension at the moment, made clearer when Levi turns to you with a look of admiration. "You did amazing tonight, by the way. That speech was something else."
You smile, touched by his words. Trying to hide the obvious attempt of panic, you knew he was going to bring up the shoutout you gave him. You just didn't know if you were ready to face it. "I was just speaking from the heart. But thank you, Levi. I couldn't have gotten through tonight without you."
He nods, his gaze lingering on yours. "It's not just tonight. You know that, right? You've got this energy about you. It's like—infectious, and makes everyone around better. Made me better."
His words seem to send a shock through your body as you slowly digest his words. As silence warps around the two of you, you quickly change the subject in hopes he won't can't a glimpse of your body becoming suspiciously flush.
"Remember that time during filming when Sasha accidentally set fire to the catering tent?" you ask, a fond smile playing on your lips.
You turn your head from the view to look at Levi. Who has yet to say a word in the comfortable silence, keeping his eyes fixed on you? He snaps out of it quickly, seeming startled by your words before making his face fall back into one normal.
His lips quirk into a grin, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "How could I forget?" he replies, a hint of laughter in his voice. "It took hours to put out the flames, and poor Hange nearly lost their eyebrows in the process."
As your laughter begins to subside, Levi's expression turns thoughtful, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "Remember that time during the blooper reel when Marco accidentally tripped over his own feet and knocked over the entire set?"
The memory hits you like a wave, and you can't help but burst into laughter, tears streaming down your cheeks. "Oh my gosh, yes!" you gasp between fits of laughter. "And then Petra tried to save him, but ended up falling on top of him instead!"
Levi joins in your laughter, the sound filling the air with a warmth that seems to wrap around you like a comforting embrace. And as you both stare at each other, a few tears of laughter streaming down your faces, you realize just how lucky you are to have someone like Levi by your side—someone who knows you inside and out, who can make you laugh even in the darkest of times, and who is always there to wipe away your tears, whether they're from laughter or something else entirely.
The moment stretches between you, filled with unspoken words and hints of tension that seem to hang in the air like a delicate tapestry, woven from the threads of friendship and maybe something underlying more. As Levi's hand brushes away the tear from your cheek, you reminisce from when he cupped your cheek when facing the shock of winning.
You feel a fluttering in your chest, a warmth spreading through you that has nothing to do with the cool night air as you feel your eyelids become jaded.
His touch lingers, the pad of his thumb tracing a gentle path along your cheekbone, and you find yourself leaning into his touch, your eyes now fluttering closed at the sensation.
His other hand finds its way sneaking to your waist, pulling you softly a fraction closer, and you feel the heat of his body seeping through the thin fabric of your dress.
With a shy, tentative smile, you reach up as your hazy eyes open to meet his. Your fingers tangling in the soft strands of his jet-black hair. The gesture is instinctual, a silent invitation that speaks volumes more than words ever could.
Yeah, you'd had your hands in his hair for multiple shots in Attack on Titan, and as much as it was a familiar feeling, it was one way more intimate.
Levi's eyes darken slightly at the touch, his gaze dropping to your lips before flickering back up to meet yours, seeking permission with his eyes.
You can feel your heart pound in your chest as you nod, the movement barely exaggerated but enough to convey your consent. And then, finally, he closes the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that feels warm; it was worth the wait.
It starts slow, a gentle exploration of lips and breath, each touch sending sparks flying through you like fireworks. You can't think of anything but him, Levi, and how his lips touch yours.
His hand cups your cheek, his touch warm and reassuring, while the other settles at the small of your back, drawing you closer until there's barely an inch of space between you.
The kiss deepens, fueled by a growing hunger that seems to consume you both, a fire that burns brighter with each passing moment. Your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer, while his grip on your waist tightens, anchoring you to him as if afraid to let go.
The both of you pause for a moment, catching your breath but not making any move to interrupt the position you're in. As Levi grips your waist tightly, he pulls you in for a kiss.
For a moment, the world falls away, leaving just the two of you suspended in a bubble of time and space, a universe unto yourselves where nothing else matters except the warmth of each other's touch and the softness of each other's lips.
You slightly move your head to the right, permitting him to go deeper than it already is. He gets the message, lips moving together, faster, as if they were made to be locked on one another.
And oh, do you wish you could last here in this moment forever.
Just as suddenly as it began, the "spell" is broken by the discreet click of a camera shutter from somewhere inside. You pull away, breathless and flushed, your eyes meeting Levi's in a silent exchange that speaks volumes more than words ever could.
Silence greets you both, as you both catch your breath for the second time. You ignore the camera, only focusing on what's more important. Levi breaks first, grinning as he stares at you up and down, then moves his eyes to peer up.
"Guess we should have checked for paparazzi," Levi murmurs, a playful glint in his eyes as he brushes a stray strand of hair from your face that fell.
You laugh softly, the sound a mix of nerves and excitement as you lean against him, arms wrapping around his neck. Without hesitation, he wraps his arms around your waist tightly. In the stillness of it all, you can feel the steady beat of his heart. "Yeah," you agree, your voice barely above a whisper. "But no regrets."
"None at all," he confirms, his arms giving you one more reassuring squeeze.
ૢ་༘࿐
The next morning when you wake up, you feel as if your head is about to pound out of your head. It's like you can still hear the remnants of champagne and laughter (and multiple shots sitting in the back of your throat that you drank down) You turn annoyed to find your phone buzzing relentlessly on the nightstand.
Squinting, you pick it up to find a barrage of messages and missed calls. The top one from Hange captures your attention with its flurry of emojis and exclamation points.
[glasses]: "YOU TWO ARE TRENDING!!! BTW, when TFFF did this happen OMG!!!!
Attached is a link to a gossip site, the headline screaming about the 'intimate moment caught between AOT stars at the Oscars after-party.' The photo shows you and Levi on the balcony, mid-kiss, a moment that felt intensely private now splashed across the internet.
Your heart sinks a bit at the intrusion but warms at the memory. You knew this was bound to happen, but couldn't it have waited a day or two? You're about to type a response when another message from Hange pops up.
[glasses]: "Prepare for paparazzi madness today! 😂 And call me! Need ALLLL the deets!!!!!!!"
You toss the phone aside, landing on your bed as you groan into your pillow. The weight of the newfound public scrutiny settling in. But then you remember Levi's lips on yours, the genuine connection in his eyes, and you can't help but slightly smile.
No matter what the public says or thinks, last night you found a new depth to your relationship with Levi, one that went beyond cameras and scripts. And for now, that was enough to face whatever the day would bring.
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@siythn all rights reserved!
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AS2L Intro
I finally got it done! The intro for this concept has come to fruition. Unlike Lucky Break, this won't be completely linear and will just kinda jump around to random events that I feel are worth writing.
Ace, Sabo, and Luffy x Child Reader
5.5k words
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Grown ups did a lot of things that you failed to understand the point of, and even more things that you found unpleasant. There were even some things that managed to be both. Namely, family reunions. You didn’t get why they needed to do this every year. You already saw them often enough since you all lived pretty close. So why do you have to spend a whole day with them at some park? It doesn’t even have a playground. Boring!
Small pebbles tumbled through the grass as you kicked them. At the moment, you were far away from everyone else, having had quite enough of your cousins’ teasing and hair pulling. Between not getting along with any of the people here that were your age, and the aforementioned lack of a playground, you were bored out of your mind. Possibly even dying of boredom. 
As you keep walking aimlessly, you notice a sign out of the corner of your eye. Having nothing better to do, you go over to inspect it. It reads “Horseshoe Trail” in big, bold letters. There’s a picture of what you assume is the trail itself beneath it. Much like the name implies, the trail is shaped like a horseshoe, going out and coming back to an exit not far from here. You look to your left and squint, and you’re pretty sure you can see where it lets out.
Maybe going for a walk in the woods would be fun? It had to be more exciting than kicking rocks all day. You hazard a glance back at the pavilion where your family is gathered. No one seems to be looking your way… This should be fine. You make up your mind quickly and hurry onto the trail before anyone can tell you not to. 
This will be fine. Besides, you’ll probably be back before anyone even notices you’re gone. The trail didn’t look that long in the picture.
The trail is a refreshing change of pace. You stare up in wonder at the tall trees on either side of the trail. Other plants and flowers decorate your surroundings, making for infinitely more interesting scenery than the bland grass of the main area your family was hanging out at. You don’t get why none of them thought to go walking through here. It makes you feel a little special to have discovered something new and exciting.
There’s a lot of noise in the woods. From the rustling of leaves as squirrels dart around, to birds singing, to insects chirping. It’s all enchanting to you. You hum happily as you wander down the path, not a care in the world. 
You’re walking for a while, a lot longer than you thought you would be. It starts to dawn on you that the trail was perhaps longer than you originally assumed. You start to feel nervous about how mad your parents will be if they notice you wandered off. Looking back, you wonder if it would be better to just turn around, or if you should keep going. The end can’t be that far away, can it?
A fallen tree is next to the path, and you walk over to sit on it while you try to figure out what you should do. You fiddle with your pink, frilly dress that your mom insisted you had to wear, tugging and picking at the seams nervously. Mom was definitely going to be mad when you got back… Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to just keep going even if it does turn out to be longer?
The sounds of foliage moving behind you snaps you out of your anxious daze. You tense up. Whatever it is sounds bigger than a squirrel. Slowly, you look over your shoulder and towards the source. Bushes shake as something works its way through them. You want to run, but you’re rooted in place by your fear. The bushes rustle louder as whatever is in them is about to pop out. Your tiny hands fist the fabric of your dress painfully tight.
A furry creature suddenly springs out and lands on the log next to you. You yelp and fall backwards off of it. The creature creeps closer and… meows?
You sit upright and finally see the animal for what it is. A cat. Instantly, your fear melts away and you squeal excitedly, “Hi, kitty! Can I pet you?” You stand up and reach out to the cat, only for it to hop off the log and start walking away. “Hey, wait! Come back!” You start walking faster, following the cat into the woods.
“I promise I’ll be gentle!” Your attempts to reason with the cat were moot, it just kept walking. Occasionally it would look back at you, but it didn’t stop. It hadn’t hissed at you yet, though, so you keep following it. You didn’t even realize how far you were getting from the trail.
Your dress keeps snagging on branches from the local shrubbery, slowing you down significantly. With every pause you take to rip your dress free, the cat gets further and further away, but you don’t give up.
It isn’t until you trip and fall over a root sticking out of the ground that you officially lose sight of the cat. You whine and slowly push yourself up. Your foot hurts from getting snagged on the root, the sandals you were wearing did nothing to protect you. It takes a minute to get back up onto your feet, and when you do, you realize that it isn’t just the cat that you’ve lost sight of.
The trail is nowhere to be seen. Tears begin to well in your eyes as you’re hit with how bad this is. How stupid could you be to have run so far away from the trail? Your parents are going to be so mad when they find you. You whip your head around wildly as you walk backwards, looking for literally any possible hint of the rail.
Suddenly, the ground dips behind you. Your arms flail as you try to catch yourself, but the ground is too slippery for you to get any traction. The next thing you know, you’re falling backwards and rolling down a hill. You scream and try to catch yourself on something, but you’re too disoriented to be able to hold onto anything for longer than a split second. Rocks and bushes attack you as you violently tumble down the hill.
When you mercifully roll to a stop at the bottom, your head is spinning and everything hurts. You whimper as you roll onto your side and try to get up. Something wet drips into your eye and stings, making you flinch and rub at it. You pull your hand away and see that it’s stained red with blood. Just like that, you burst into tears and sob loudly. You cry out for help, screaming for anyone to come to your rescue.
But no one comes.
Then, because today wasn’t awful enough, loud thunder sounds through the forest, and it begins to rain. Cold droplets fall and soak into your dirty, torn clothing. You sniffle loudly and force yourself to stand despite your body screaming at you to lay down. Sitting in the rain sounds terrible. You need to find somewhere dry to wait this out.
Looking around, you don’t see anything nearby that you could hide under. Seeing as that you’re already horribly lost, you pick a random direction and start walking. Well, more like limping. Your already sore ankle is now swelling, and the straps on one of your sandals ripped off during the fall. It’s barely hanging on and is more than a little uncomfortable to walk in. You trudge forward, sniffling and crying as you stumble through the woods in search of shelter.
It feels like an eternity before you see something through the trees that piques your interest. It looks like a small building isn’t far from here. Your tears dry for the first time and you smile, thinking that maybe you were closer to where your family was than you thought you were. You hurry as much as your pained body will allow.
The closer you get, the more your smile fades. The building you were looking at was some abandoned, broken looking shack. There weren’t any other buildings or signs of people in sight. Despite your disappointment, the rain pelting you encourages you to go inside the shack regardless. 
The door had fallen off and was laying outside of the structure. You step on it as you go inside, and it creaks loudly under your weight. Your disappointment only grows as you see that the roof had caved in. Rain was pouring into the dilapidated shack, leaving only one corner of it somewhat dry. You press yourself against the shelf in the dry spot, shivering in your wet clothes. 
Deciding that your sandals were more of a painful hindrance than a help, you unbuckle and kick them off. Next, you slip off the once cream colored cardigan your mom had insisted you wear with your dress. It got all torn up and covered in mud from your fall, plus there was some blood on it from the cuts you got. The frilly dress you had on was in a similar state. Your mom was going to kill you for ruining the outfit she picked out for you just for today.
Given that it was already ruined, you scrubbed your face with the sweater, trying to wipe away the blood you felt on it earlier. You wince as it touches a particularly tender spot on your head and pull it away. The sweater is now smeared with even more blood and dirt. You sigh and toss it next to your discarded sandals.
With nothing to do, you sit in the corner and wait for the rain to stop. Your stomach growls loudly, which makes you remember something. Reaching into your pocket, you are ecstatic to find that the candies your grandpa had slipped you hadn’t fallen out during your tumble. You smile softly and unwrap a piece of chocolate before popping it into your mouth. At least you have one good thing going for you. You look around the shack while you savor the chocolate, and your eyes are drawn to a box on the shelf next to you.
Having nothing to do, you pull it off and start rifling through it. There are some old flashlights, duct tape, and some ropes in it that you carelessly toss behind you. At the bottom of the box, you see a tiny key and a jewelry box. You grab both curiously and wipe off the dusty box. One of those cool skull-things that you see on pirates ships is on it, which only makes you more curious. Giving the box a shake, you hear something rattling inside of it.
Trying to open it didn’t work, so you put the small key into the keyhole. Much to your relief, it fits and unlocks the jewelry box. You pry it open and find a necklace inside. It feels extremely brittle in your hands, and it has the same pirate skull on it as the box. There is a piece of paper in the box, too. You pick it up and unfold it, finding that there is something written on it.
Congratulations on your lucky find
I wonder what desire you have in mind
Close your eyes, make a wish, and break the pendant in two
Whatever you want most will come to you
Now that was exciting. You looked at the apparently magical necklace in your hand with a surge of joy and intrigue. Maybe getting lost wasn’t so bad afterall! You kick your feet as you try to decide on a wish. You suppose that you could wish to be back with your family, but… did you really want to waste your wish on that? Did you really want to use a magical wish to be teleported back to your parents that will definitely be furious with you.
This is your wish. Why shouldn’t you use it for something that you want? But what do you want? To have more fun? To have a family that actually likes you? Those things would be nice. Would it be okay to squeeze two wishes into one? There’s only one way to find out.
Closing your eyes, you say your wish, “I wish to have fun with a family that loves me.” With that said, you snap the necklace in half. You keep your eyes closed for a few more seconds, then crack one open and look around. Nothing happened.
Both of your eyes open and your cheeks puff out into a pout. Why didn’t it work?! You got your hopes up and everything! Today was the worst! Who would leave a fake magic necklace here to trick someone? That’s just mean!
You’re about to throw the broken necklace away from you, but then something happens. You start to sink into the ground, with your legs disappearing in mere seconds. You flail, trying to pull your legs back up, but you can’t and you’re sinking down even more. What’s happening?! Were you sitting in quicksand?!
In a last desperate attempt, you grab onto the shelf next to you. You’re already up to your neck, only your arms and head are still free. You let out a high pitched scream, hoping- praying that someone will hear you and come to your rescue, but the shelf you’re grasping tips over, plunging you into darkness.
You expect the quicksand to drown you, but that isn’t what happens. It feels like… you’re floating. In the air. Experimentally, you wave your arms around. There is nothing around you. Death not being imminent did calm you slightly, but not entirely. Not when you were seemingly floating through some weird darkness. It felt like you were falling, however gently, so maybe if you wait long enough you’ll end up… somewhere?
Was this happening because of your wish? Was the necklace mad about you trying to squeeze two wishes into one? You whimper and curl into the fetal position as you fall, feeling stupid for making a magic necklace mad at you. Hot tears well in your eyes and drip down your cheeks as you cry to yourself.
Abruptly, your descent ends and you feel solid ground beneath you. Instead of pitch black, you can see a soft light peeking through your fingers. You pull your hands away and look around. You’re in a forest. But… it doesn’t look like the forest that you were just in. The trees are massive; way bigger than any that you’ve ever seen. It also sounds different. The woods that you had just been walking through sounded mostly quiet minus some birds chirping, but this place was much louder. The bird calls sounded different and more plentiful, and you could hear plants all around you rustling. Whatever was moving them sounded huge. 
Pressing yourself up against a nearby tree, you look around frantically, looking for any sign of other people. You saw nothing but more trees. Worse yet, it was starting to get dark. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you felt like you were about to start crying again.
Your hands flex nervously, and you’re distracted when you feel something in the palm of one of them. You look down curiously and open your hand. Your face scrunches in confusion when you see some weird looking necklace staring up at you. It’s got a skull and crossbones on it, and the skull looks like it’s biting something between its teeth. Maybe a stick or something? You flip it over in your hand and examine it closely.
You’ve never seen this thing before. Why do you have it?
Before you can ponder this mystery further, you hear a loud growl. You snap your head up and look around. You don’t see whatever made that noise, but you aren’t about to wait and find out. The necklace is stuffed into your pocket and you turn around to face the tree you’re standing next to. It isn’t easy, but your terror about becoming a snack to whatever made that noise motivates you to scale the tree faster than you would have expected. You climb until you find a cluster of branches that you can settle into securely.
The sun was setting fast, and the forest was rapidly becoming too dark for you to be able to see anything around you. You press yourself into the branches while rubbing your exposed arms. The wet dress you were in was doing nothing to keep you warm, and you found yourself wishing you still had your sweater. Even if it was soaked and torn up, it would be at least a little better than this.
Animal calls resounded all around you, ones that you’ve never heard before. You don’t understand where you are. You were just lost in the woods at home. How did you wind up in this strange forest? Was it just a different part of the woods that you’ve never seen before? How had you never noticed these huge trees before? Well, you suppose your mom has said that you don’t pay attention very well…
Another growl cuts through the air, but this one is from you. Your stomach takes the time to remind you that it’s been a while since you last ate. Digging around in your pocket, you pull out a few more pieces of candy and start eating them. It’s not like there’s anything else you can do right now. You need to find your way out of these woods, but you’re too scared to do it in the dark, so you’re going to have to wait until morning.
Your parents are going to kill you when you finally get out of here.
The night passes by slowly. With how noisy it is, and how scared you feel, sleeping is almost impossible. You do eventually nod off, but you’re awoken by a ray of sunlight shining right into your eyes. You whine and rub at your eyes before cracking them open. Light is filtering through the leaves and all the way down onto the forest floor.
Movement catches your attention, and you snap your attention to it. Much to your relief, it’s just a small bird that is perched on your knee and watching you curiously. It has green feathers on its body and colorful feathers forming a large fan-like crest on its head. The bird’s head tilts and it lets out a series of whistles before leaning down to peck at the frills of your dress.
“Hi, birdie. Do you know how to get out of here?” You knew that a bird couldn’t answer your question, but it was nice to talk to something.
The sound of your voice made it glance up at you again, but it quickly ripped a frill off of your dress and then flew away. Yeah… that was about as helpful as you thought it was going to be.
After giving your surroundings a thorough scan to make sure there wasn’t anything scary nearby, you climb out of the tree. You wince as the tree bark digs into the soles of your feet. Much like your sweater, you find yourself bemoaning the fact that you ditched your sandals. You reach the forest floor and look around warily. You weren’t able to see any houses or anything from up in the tree, so you had no idea which way to go. So, you just started walking in a random direction and hoped for the best.
Your stomach growled again. You checked your pocket for more candy and after rifling through a bunch of empty wrappers, you found one last piece. As hungry as you were… you felt like it would be dumb to eat your final piece of candy now. It’s stuffed back into your pocket as you resolve to save it for later.
What feels like hours pass, and you have yet to see so much as a trail, much less a person or building. It’s starting to feel hopeless and like you’ll be lost forever. You stop and sit down on a rock, wondering what else you can possibly do right now.
That’s when you hear it. Crying. You’ve never been so happy to hear that sound before. You scramble off of the rock and run in the direction of the noise, feeling a sense of relief that you’ve never felt so intensely before. You bound through some tall grass and find yourself in a small clearing. There aren’t buildings or anything like that in sight, but there is someone here. A boy with black hair is sitting in the middle of the clearing and crying into his knees.
Taking a look around, you don’t see anyone else here. This isn’t exactly what you wanted to find, but maybe he knows how to get out of this place. The boy doesn’t appear to have heard you stomping through the grass, so you approach him carefully and call out to him.
“Hello?”
The boy flinches and whips his head around to look at you. He stares at you with wide, teary eyes, and his face has dirt smeared across it. You think that he’s about the same age as you. It looks like he’s also had a bad day.
When he doesn’t respond, you take a few more steps towards him. You try talking to him again, “Are you okay?”
He sniffles loudly and wipes at his face with his arm, “I’m okay… I’m just lost.” Your heart sinks upon realizing that he’s no better off than you are and won’t be able to help you. The boy looks up at you hopefully, “Do you know the way out?”
You avert your eyes and shake your head, “No… I’m also lost.” That little bit of hope he had in his eyes dies instantly and he hangs his head again. It makes you feel bad that you can’t help him. You crouch down next to him, “My name is (Y/N), what’s your name?”
The boy sniffles again and speaks in a quiet voice, “I’m Luffy.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Luffy. I don’t know the way out of here, but maybe we can be lost together?” The proposition hardly sounds appealing, but it’s not like either of you have any other options right now. Not being alone will be better than nothing.
Luffy looks at you again, then nods and starts to stand up, “Yeah… we can be lost together.” As soon as you’re up, he grabs onto your hand like it’s a lifeline. You two start walking again, but it’s obvious that he’s still upset.
Something about his sad face makes you want to do whatever you can to make him feel better. You think hard as you walk with him. Then, an idea pops into your head. Candy makes you feel happy, so it should do the same for him, right? You pull out your last piece of candy, saltwater taffy, from your pocket. You stare at it for a moment, feeling conflicted. While you are hungry, you want to do the right thing.
Holding out your hand to Luffy, you present the taffy to him, “Do you want some candy?”
This makes Luffy come to a halt and stare at the offering. You pull your hand from his and unwrap the candy for him before holding it up to him again. That seems to snap him out of it and he quickly snatches it out of your hands and eats it. The fast movement startles you slightly. He must’ve been really hungry, too.
Finally, he grins at you, “Thank you! Do you have any more?”
You look down, now feeling a little guilty about snacking on your candy all night long. “No, I’m sorry. That was my last piece.”
Luffy blinks in surprise, “And you gave it to me?” You nod, not really seeing it as a big deal. It was just one piece of candy. Before you can blink, Luffy lurches forward and hugs you tightly. You’re lifted off the ground a little, then dropped back down. He pulls away and smiles widely at you, “Let’s be best friends, (Y/N)!”
Best friends? Just for some candy? Well, he seems nice, and you could always use more friends. You return his smile with one of your own, “Yeah, let’s be friends.”
With the new friendship established, you and Luffy resume your trek, but now he is much more bubbly and talkative. He’s rambling about pirates when he suddenly looks around and lights up, “Oh! This looks familiar! I think we’re almost out!” Luffy breaks into a sprint and you’re forced to run to keep up. Rocks and plants dig into your bare feet, making you wince, but you feel a surge of joy at the prospect of getting out of this stupidly big forest.
Finally, the trees thin out and both of you are free. A small town can be seen in the near distance. It doesn’t look familiar at all, and definitely isn’t your hometown. Was it a nearby town that you’ve never seen before? You guess you and your parents don’t get out a lot, so that makes sense.
Luffy doesn’t give you much time to catch your breath before he’s running again. As you run through the town with him, you notice how weird it looks to you. None of the roads are paved, and you can’t see a single car. It looks super old, like something out of a history book. Where are you right now?
You’re forced to make a hard right as Luffy turns and runs into one of the buildings. You stumble in behind him and look around the place. It looks like a restaurant or something. You’re dragged towards a counter while Luffy calls out, “Makino! I made a new friend!”
A woman with green hair is behind the counter and smiles warmly at Luffy before flicking her attention to you. Her smile drops instantly and is replaced with a look of concern. “Oh dear, are you alright?”
Oh right, you did get pretty dirty and hurt from your fall yesterday. You look away sheepishly, embarrassed to be looking like a mess. Your mom would definitely scold you if she could see you right now.
“This new friend of yours must be pretty great if you haven’t even noticed me yet.” A new voice cuts in. You look up as a man with red hair and a straw hat spins around in his seat. He has three scars over one of his eyes that you can’t help but think look really cool. Like Makino, his relaxed grin drops when he sees the state of you. One of his hands reaches out and pulls something out of your hair. A small twig with a leaf on it. He raises a brow, “Rough day, kid?”
“Shanks!” Luffy abandons you to clamber up to the man, and you’re left standing alone and feeling very self conscious about your appearance as you notice even more people staring at you.
Makino comes out from behind the counter and crouches down next to you. Her warm smile is back and she starts wiping off your face with a wet rag. “Why don’t you tell me your name, sweetie?” You mumble out your name while avoiding eye contact with her. She hums in acknowledgment, “(Y/N)? That’s a lovely name. Now, can you tell me what happened to you?”
“Well… I wandered away from my family because I was bored, and then I got really lost in the woods because I was chasing a cat. Then I fell down a big hill and got all dirty and hurt.” Saying it all out loud made it sound really dumb.
“And when did all of this happen? Just a little bit ago?”
“No, it happened yesterday, and then I was lost in the woods all night.” You winced as she wiped at a gash on your head.
“You were in that forest all night?” Makino looked shocked at your statement.
“Yeah… I tried to find my way out, but I couldn’t, so I slept in a tree until morning.” Again, you felt embarrassed about your situation. How stupid were you to get that lost all because you wanted to pet a cat?
Makino still appears to be shocked by your story, but she tries to force another smile onto her face. She stands up and takes your hand, “Come into the back with me. I have some spare clothes for Luffy here, and I think they’ll fit you.”
The prospect of having clean clothes sounds amazing to you, so you follow her without any protest. When you’re in the back of the restaurant, she takes the time to clean off the rest of the blood and dirt from you before giving you some clothes to change into. The shorts and t-shirt are much more comfortable than your tattered dress, so you can feel your mood lifting instantly just from having them on. You were still barefoot, but you weren’t about to complain. Makino examines your discarded dress with a puzzled look, then shrugs and tosses it into a bin.
You’re guided back out to the main part of the restaurant, and placed in a seat next to Luffy. Shortly after that, a plate of food is placed in front of you, as well as in front of Luffy. He happily digs in, but you hesitate, “I don’t have any money…” 
Your concern makes Makino chuckle, “Don’t worry about that, it’s on the house. You look like you could use something to eat.” Her words were enough to demolish your already weak resolve, prompting you to start wolfing down the meal. It tasted amazing and was a relief to your empty stomach. It didn’t take long for the plate to be completely clean.
As soon as you're done, Makino comes back over to you and starts asking questions. “What do your parents look like? Do you think they’re nearby?” You tell her that they probably aren’t around here and rattle off a description of them. She frowns and doesn’t seem to recognize them based off of your description.
Shanks chimes into the conversation, “What’s their ship look like? We just docked a little while ago, I might’ve seen it.”
“Ship? My parents don’t have a ship.” The question confuses you. There aren’t any big bodies of water around your town as far as you know. Why would your parents have a boat?
“Oh? So you’re local?”
“No, I’ve never seen this place before.”
Makino perked up at that, “You aren’t from Goa Kingdom, are you?”
You shake your head, “I don’t know that place.” You tell them the name of your hometown, but all that does is make everyone look confused. Everyone looks around at each other, silently asking if anyone recognizes the name. It would seem that no one does.
“Well, if you aren’t from around here, then you definitely got here on a ship. Did your parents get a ride here from someone else?” Shanks stares at you more intensely, as if trying to find answers written on your face.
“We weren’t on a boat, we were just at a park.” The questions were starting to frustrate you. Your town had to be nearby. There’s no way you walked that far.
Shanks stares at you hard, then his eyes drift up and focus on the gash on your head. He sighs and relaxes his expression. “Your parents are probably lurking around the docks, you should try looking for them there.”
Luffy sits up straight and turns to face you, “Oh! I can show you where they are!” He hops down from his stool and doesn’t wait for an answer before hauling you off of your own seat. You’ve barely made it out of the restaurant before another person runs out after you.
“Wait! I’m coming, too!”
You look over your shoulder and see a girl with red and white hair running after you two. She looks to be a few years older than you. 
Luffy smiles at her, “Hi, Uta! Why are you coming with us?”
Uta reaches out and pokes his cheek, “Because I know that you only offered to go so you can sneak onto Shanks’ ship.”
“Nuh-uh! I want to help (Y/N)!”
She rolled her eyes and lightly shoved his shoulder, “Yeah, right. You’re definitely going to sneak onto the Red Force as soon as you see it.” The two start bickering amongst each other, not paying you much mind as you all make your way to the docks.
All of this is very confusing and overwhelming. You have no idea where you are or how you got here, but at least the people you have found have been really nice. This situation wasn’t great, but it could certainly be worse.
At least you made a new friend.
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daycourtofficial · 3 days
Text
Personal update below
Tw: pregnancy loss, miscarriage, blood
Here it is, the words I’ve been unable to type, much less say out loud. Late in the night a few nights ago, I woke up to some abdominal cramping and went to the bathroom. I had been bleeding vaginally all day, but not enough to be super concerned.
I woke up and went to the bathroom, and knew something was wrong. To spare the details, I was bleeding a lot, cramping severely, and I knew my baby was gone. I felt empty inside, despite only being about 7 or 8 weeks pregnant. Intuition, I suppose. I just felt so lonely, as if I wasn’t supposed to be the only occupant in my body.
My husband took me to the hospital and after hours of invasive poking, prodding, and testing, a nurse practitioner I will likely never see again, who will likely never think of me again, told me that my baby was gone. He was straight forward, which I like in medical personnel. He told me my pregnancy was unviable and that it’s common. That we shouldn’t worry. These things happen. It’s normal, common. The three or so minutes felt like an eternity, waiting for him to leave so I could fall apart in the privacy of my husband’s arms, despite the lack of privacy an emergency department offers.
The hospital was so sterile, the bright lights and lack of windows made it impossible for you to track the passage of time. The winding hallways a maze of monotony, making it impossible to know how to return to your room without a guide. The walls were devoid of any real color, save for tv screens and workplace posters. And yet, the room I was placed in was the only room with decorative curtains. All the other curtains were just a shade of navy.
Mine had flowers on it, as if the world or God or the hospital wanted to offer me some reprieve, some reminder that for the hospital, this was routine, but that it wasn’t routine for me. That I deserved something for my eyes to find comfort in.
So here it is, the new reality I find myself in. My baby is gone. The rare statement that, once it becomes true, will never change.
I’m reeling a bit from this loss, as you can imagine. I’m gutted. I got married right at the beginning of the year, falling pregnant not long after. I joked with my husband that I started the year off becoming a wife and was ending the year becoming a mom. I suppose it really was just a joke in the end, but I’m not sure if the punchline was me or my continued optimism, in spite all that I’ve endured.
Anyway, everyone was extraordinarily kind to me when I had posted that I was pregnant. I know that technically I don’t owe anyone details of my personal life, especially not this personal, but I wanted to share it because I don’t want to be sad and alone. And perhaps this will find its way to someone else who has felt some loss recently, whether it be the loss of someone or something, or a loss of self or identity, or a loss of the future you had planned out. Maybe they will feel some connection to this. Or maybe one day someone will think of this as they reel with their own loss.
I don’t regret sharing the news so early, despite the circumstances that have now led me to making this post. Any joy we can find is worth sharing, even if it’s fleeting, especially if it’s fleeting, and even if it’s for some stranger on the internet.
Anyway, I have my dogs and my husband, who are very loving. I’m not sure when I’ll post this, I’ll likely stick it in my queue somewhere so it feels less like I’m hitting the ‘post’ button and more like softly whispering all of this in the wind.
I will be okay, I always am. Grief is a black hole I am trying navigate and figure out where it ends and I begin, trying to remember what my new life will be like and how to grieve yet another version of myself lost to time and trauma and sadness.
There is no narrative device here, nothing I did could’ve changed the outcome. Sometimes the world is just needlessly cruel.
This doesn’t really affect anything on here or what I choose to interact with. I’m still okay discussing/reading/writing about babies and kids and everything in that realm. I just didn’t want anyone asking after the baby and making someone feel bad for wanting to know how I was doing.
Anyway, I don’t want to end this on a despairing note, even though that is the tune of my life at the moment. I want to remember that my now is not my forever, and I hope anyone reading this that is experiencing any manner of suffering takes as much out of that sentiment as I do.
Yours,
V ❤️
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Text
Nocturnal eyes
Pairing: Astarion/ g/n Tav
Tags: vulnerable Astarion, angst, friendship, a bit of fluff
Length: 2.4k words
Summary: Astarion notices something is off with his eyes …
A/N: @nyx-knox out here once again, being the ✨best✨ beta-reader I could hope for!
Also: ARE Y'ALL FOR REAL?! Over 750 reactions on my Bedhead fic?? Thank you so much 🥹!!!
Taglist: @wilteddreamsofbaldursgate , @littlelovelore, @onlyancunin @chaoticbardlady99
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Astarion sits in the soft green grass, enjoying the warmth of the setting sun.
Today had been exhausting. The party had finally left the wilderness behind and set up camp on the Mountain Pass. Tomorrow they will head to the Githyanki Crèche, but for now … he’s just relaxing, listening to the soft rustle of the trees above him with his eyes closed.
Because they are hurting again - his damned eyes - causing his head to ache in that awful stinging way. This has been happening semi-regularly since they crashed on that beach. By the end of every day, his eyes feel exhausted. Sometimes he even welcomed the night, the dark bringing relief to his vision, much as he hated to admit that he found any solace in the darkness after having been trapped in it for so long.
It’s not that he wants to be in the dark again - on the contrary! Oh, words could never express how much he enjoys the feeling of the warmth on his skin, the smell of sun-baked earth beneath him, filling him with life, making his undead heart swell with secret joy. It’s just …
“Truly, a sight to behold,” Gale had said, when they first stepped through the gate onto the Pass and were greeted by a magnificent view of the surrounding valley … Or at least Astarion assumed that’s what it was.
Because he can’t tell. Not really. In fact, all he sees are blurry, rugged shapes and a haze of earthy colors far off in the distance.
When Astarion had first opened his eyes after the crash, all he could do was gasp audibly. The sun seared his eyes, the light brighter than anything he had seen in centuries. Immediately, he had shielded his face from the merciless rays, curled into a ball, panic taking over. “No!” he yelped. It’s daytime! I can’t be out! Oh Gods, do I smell smoke? Am I burning up?? Am I disintegrating???
But a few heartbeats passed and to his surprise - and great relief - it was not a burning pain he started to feel. Rather, it was a sensation he thought he had forgotten but that he immediately recalled, having felt it lifetimes ago: The warmth of the midday sun.
Cautiously, he had uncoiled himself and tried opening his eyes again. Gods! It hurts. Of course, Vampire eyes are sensitive to the light, in order to see better at night. An essential trait for nocturnal creatures, predators, such as himself. His eyes hadn’t had to process so much brightness in … forever. So, being blasted with daylight for the first time in roughly 200 years - it hurt like all Hells! 
It took a few moments, but eventually Astarion managed to pry open his crimson eyes. And he began to see. To look. And he saw colors he hadn’t seen in too long. He saw the bright blue sky, the deep purples of the Nautiloid shipwreck, the turquoise water covered with the most beautiful shimmering reflections. Everything was bright. Everything was so vibrant! Everything was so … full of life. He looked up, squinting at the trees and their slightly blurred leaves. Those luscious, green leaves. Gods … I had forgotten how beautiful that particular color is … 
But there had been no time for him to enjoy all those new sights for long. He heard them before he saw them. The others. Friends? Enemies? He couldn’t tell. They were just indiscernible shapes in the distance - but as soon as he had lured one of them close enough to put a knife to their throat, he was back in survival mode, forgetting about the colors he had just reveled in.
That’s what he knew how to do, after all. Hitting his close target. And really, that’s all he should care about, that’s really all he actually needs to see. He’s a master at close-up melee combat, a rogue who sneaks up to his victims, dangerous with his blade. He’s skilled at picking locks and picking pockets. And he’s an amazing lover, always able to read every detail of his victims' expressions to make sure he hits that target just as well. All he needs to see clearly is what’s right in front of him, isn’t it?
But if he was being really honest … it’s not like his usual tricks have actually worked out for him so far, now have they? His first melee attack had earned him a headbutt to the face. He had woken his first victim while sneaking up on them. And he felt his nice little seduction plan for Tav slowly and steadily backfiring on him - but that was a problem for another time. So why not top it all off with embarrassingly inadequate vampiric eyesight to really emphasize it all, he figured?
Astarion opens his eyes again and looks at the hazy, blurred valley below, the wind tousling his white locks, and he scoffs. Ironic, isn’t it? Here he is, finally free from his captor. But of course, even out in the open, he’s not able to look beyond the confines of his own metaphorical cell. As if his eyes are still keeping him prisoner.
A sound behind him snaps him out of his thoughts. Again, he hears them before he sees them coming. Only this time he knows it is a friend. “Astarion?” Tav, he thinks with a knowing smile. He knows their voice anywhere.
“Yes, Darling?” he asks as their leader emerges from the shade of the trees.
Astarion grew to enjoy Tav‘s company quite a bit, if he was being honest. Not only during their passionate encounters, but also just sitting with them, talking about their journey, about the others in their party, sometimes even about his past, which he never thought possible when he had been pressing his knife to their throat just a short time ago.
“Enjoying the view?” they ask as they sit down next to him in the soft grass.
“Oh of course,” Astarion answers as he leans back onto his elbows.
“Especially the Crèche,” Tav continues, pointing into the valley, making casual conversation.
“Why, I agree. Who would have thought the Gith were such marvelous architects,” the pale Elf replies without missing a beat. 
It’s now that Tav turns to look at him. “... Except the Crèche is in the opposite direction?” they say cautiously. 
Shit. Astarion tenses.
He hates this. They know. Immediately he is prepared to snap, to throw a sarcastic comment back at them, telling them to mind their own damn business. Feeling exposed, he keeps his gaze fixed forward, part of him expecting to see mockery, or malice even, should he meet Tav’s eyes. But when he eventually looks up … all he sees is a knowing smile. Their face is so very clear next to him, and so is the genuine fondness that greets him in their expression. The same fondness he is secretly happy to see on Tav’s face every time they look at him.
Astarion takes a deep breath. He doesn’t want this, he doesn’t want his walls to go up. Not for Tav. He resists it, that stupid defensive mechanism and to his surprise, he actually relaxes a bit. “You noticed,” he says quietly.
Tav nods. “On our first day, actually.” His eyebrows go up in surprise. 
“Did you now?” the vampire asks.
“We climbed that platform next to the crash site, remember? You were first up. And you said there’s nothing to see.” Their tone is neither condescending nor reproachful. “But there was... A lot, actually. You know, like, the village? Or the goblin camp. Or, well, this mountain pass. So yeah, I noticed.”
Astarion scoffs. They were right, of course. And back then, he didn’t even realize there was something wrong with his vision. He had still been so overwhelmed with all the light and color, all this blue and green…
For a moment, both sit in silence before Astarion speaks up. “It’s all rather blurry, you know?” he finally admits aloud. “I never noticed it back in Baldur’s Gate.”
Tav listens and nods. “I thought vampirism cures all mortal ailments, even eye problems.”
“Well, maybe there are exceptions? Or maybe I’m just a sorry excuse for a vampire spawn. Honestly, I don’t know. It’s not like any vampire is able to look at vast illuminated landscapes during the day to notice if something is off.” he says in a slightly frustrated, even embarrassed tone, gesturing towards the sunset.
“Your eyes have been adjusted to the night for 200 years. So … maybe they just need a bit to adjust to the daylight now? Give it some time.” The optimism and sweetness in Tav’s voice makes the corner of Astarion’s mouth twitch up into a half-smile.
“Wouldn’t that be something,” he says. Maybe they are right. Maybe. 
This is when Tav clears their throat. “But uhm, until then …” Astarion’s pointy ears twitch slightly as he hears Tav rummaging in their pocket. When they procure something wrapped in a folded leather cloth, he sits up.
“What’s this?” he asked, and they hand him the flat parcel. Curiously, Astarion opens the wrapping. 
In his hand lies the most hideous pair of mismatched spectacles he has ever seen. 
Before he can say anything, Tav begins to talk. “I came across this half broken pair of looking glasses while looting some time ago, and I thought, well, while there is no way we would ever find the perfect pair, we might just try making a custom one, right? I mean, it’s obvious you’re straining your eyes. You might not say anything to us about it, and you don’t have to, but I can tell that you often have a headache by the end of the day, and I, well, wanted to help.” Astarion still says nothing, inspecting the wonky looking thing in his hands.
Quickly, Tav continues, compelled to explain. “But you have no idea how hard it is to find undamaged spectacles! I mean, it makes sense, right? Who would leave their eyes behind? So anyway, I started collecting all the glasses I could find, hoping for an intact pair, but well … eventually I ended up with … this.”
The pair of spectacles in Astarion’s hand was clearly made of two halves from different glasses, held together in the middle by a thin leather cord, wrapped around it several times and in several other places. “Both glasses seemed to be made for looking at things further away. Of course, I can’t say for certain. They are not for me, I mean, if anything, I should be looking into finding a pair for me, so I can finally read that book Gale won’t shut up about. But … anyway, I thought maybe they might be of use to you.”
It’s not often that Astarion is stunned into silence. Tav did this? For him? It takes him a moment to process this … act of kindness. But when he does, he leans over to Tav, turning their face to him with a finger beneath their chin, and softly kisses them. “They … are hideous, my dear,” he says against their lips, with a chuckle and a genuine, soft smile on his face.
“Yeah, I know,” Tav agrees, kissing him back, mirroring his smile, before pulling away. “Well go on then, put them on.”
And he does. Astarion puts on the mismatched, wonky pair of improvised spectacles, the right temple barely fitting over his ear.
“Well?”, Tav asks hopefully.
With the awkward thing perched in his elegant face, the vampire looks down into the valley and takes in an almost inaudible breath. It’s … much better than he could have hoped for. Yes, it’s far from perfect. The glasses are sitting on his aquiline nose lopsided and the left glass is not even close to what he probably needs, yet he feels that nagging strain on his eyes eases immediately.
But that’s not what stuns the pale Elf.
Just as the sun begins to disappear behind the mountains, casting long shadows and a warm orange glow on everything around them, Astarion sees. And all of it this time! For the first time in 200 years, he sees the crisp outline of the setting sun. He sees the mountain tops and ridges. He sees the glowing clouds. By the Gods…
“Astarion?” Tav asks timidly, but he does not react. They sit with him in silence then, watching him watch the sunset in wonder, those red ruby eyes they love so much squinting intently, unmoving, until the glowing disk disappears behind the horizon and the sky slowly begins to turn a lovely shade of purple.
It takes a moment for Astarion to stir again. Carefully, he takes the spectacles off his face as if it’s the most precious thing he has ever owned, before looking at Tav. A lot of things are going through his head at that moment, and - much to his ever-growing confusion - through his undead heart as well. This is not a thing you just do for a travel-companion. Why are you so nice to me? I do not deserve your kindness. “Thank you.”, he eventually settles on, and he knows to Tav those simple words convey everything. 
Tav smiles. “Don’t mention it,” obviously delighted their little gift has been accepted. Why in the hells his favorite travel companion, no, his lover, went out of their way to help him like this, he couldn’t even begin to comprehend. Sure, they agreed to help him kill Cazador, but this is not the same! This is special. This is … caring. It is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for him. And he is truly, deeply grateful.
This gift would do wonders for his vision, at least until his nocturnal eyes fully embrace looking into the far distance during the day. He knows he will look so foolish with this contraption on his nose and he would probably have to kill Gale should the wizard ever see him with them on, but somehow he didn’t mind wearing these, looking silly, unsightly even, in front of Tav. They wouldn’t judge him, they wouldn’t laugh at him. Because he feels that they care.
After a moment, Astarion puts the spectacles back on, turning his head up to the tree branches above them, that stunning green of the individual, defined leaves still visible in the dim dusk light.
“You know, Darling …”, he says, “I really do love that color.”
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bratbutcute · 1 day
Text
A sparkle in the night
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Pair: Alastor and Vox. A bit platonic, a bit romantic, could be read in different ways.
Disclaimer: Nothing other than it’s a SFW tickle fic. They are also slightly ooc but tbh we don’t really know since I’m describing a moment that happened before the series takes place sooooo… who knows (but honestly, Alastor is much too sweet to be canon).
Also I had fun with some fonts I found online, I don’t know if that is a problem so if you find difficulties reading please tell me and I’ll change it!
Vox is stressed and wants to reminisce old times, old friends, old feelings.
I got the idea for this from this fic by @starlight-write. I wanted to explore Alastor and Vox’s relationship before whatever happened between them.
I hope you all enjoy it!
~~~
Hell had changed a lot since Vox first arrived. He had met many Overlords who now weren’t ‘alive’ anymore, killed by Angels or by other sinners. He had seen Hell change its geography, different shops rising and then succumbing to nefarious fate.
He had met friends along the way, and he had lost them too.
Vox had learnt that the afterlife was just as complicated and confusing as his past life: people were hard to read, it was hard to understand their needs and, honesty, he wasn’t very good at accommodating them. Of course it was easy to solve people problems work wise (most of the times he was the one creating a fake problem and giving the public a new product as a solution), but when it came to personal business he couldn’t just hypnotise everyone. Well he could but…
He was alone in his personal room, monitors all over him, phones and computers all around him. Even if he was alone he was constantly under the spotlight. He knew he had to prove he was stronger. That he wasn’t scared of anything or anyone.
That’s how he would spend the majority of his afterlife: surrounded by his constant eyes, recording every movement he himself ever made.
So that’s why he felt so excited when he turned off every single monitor except for the bigger one in front of him. He shut down every camera or microphone around him. Unrecorded. Unregistered moments.
A shiver ran down his spine.
After seeing that ghost of his past back again after seven years of absence he had to see something. Something that was his and his only.
What he was looking for was an old memory, one that he had to update digitally from his old headset.
Everything was meticulously categorised so it didn’t take long before he found what he was looking for.
The video started.
And he was almost 45 years younger, he had a different - and much heavier - headset and an ‘old pal’ next to him.
They were in the middle of an animated conversation in a remote bar in the pride ring. Everybody was keeping their distance from them and the moody bartender kept sending them drink after drink.
«Television is much more than photography you radio obsessed demon. Television is alive, it’s thrilling!» Vox exclaimed standing up and stomping his foot on the chair in front of him. Alastor looked at the action with little to no reaction, his usual smile plastered on his face.
«You, young man, are as loud as a cow at the slaughterhouse. That is in no way an Overlord behaviour.» he said squeezing his shoulder and inviting Vox to sit again.
Vox blinked in confusion - and slight worry because of the metaphor - before pouting as a scolded child. He got himself back on the high stools next to the counter dangling his feet.
Alastor poured another whiskey in his glass.
«I admire your enthusiasm, but you have to understand that Hell is different from Earth. You cannot show demons your… moving pictures and expect them to simply follow you. You need to plan. To be strategic. Logical.» he offered the drink to Vox, who looked at the goldish liquid with skepticism.
Alastor’s smile grew bigger. «A peace offer?». Vox sighed and gulped it down in one shot, much to Alastor’s disapproval.
«I think you’re complicating your life too much! I can hypnotise people!» he pointed at his eyes as the pupil changed, but Alastor was unfazed.
«It doesn’t work on me.»
«Yeah I still have to understand why…» he sighed as his head started to spin. His face became a bit foggy, just for a moment.
That made Alastor grin wider. «Is the strong and powerful aspiring Overlord feeling a bit dizzy?»
«Fuck you I am not. You’re just-» he looked down at his empty glass and grabbed the bottle to refill it. «I am an Overlord! ‘M not aspiring to be anything you pompous-» but he was cut off by Alastor cupping Vox’s hands with his and helping him pour the drink. Vox’s heart skipped a beat as his antennas sparkled.
«You were saying?» he hummed, fully aware of what he was doing.
«Fuck you.»
Alastor’s smiled softened «Charming.» and Vox smiled back, rolling his eyes.
They had these kind of conversations every time they hang out. They would go to a bar and sit far away from everyone, start bickering, try to get a deal one from the other only to call it even and repeat this cycle every few days. Vox kept convincing himself that these encounters weren’t a big deal but things like that, like that genuine smile, made him doubt that.
Vox drank his whiskey quickly, just to see Alastor’s ear flicker in dismay, a gesture Vox had learnt to recognise over the years.
He took the bottle and refilled his and Alastor’s empty glass.
«You do not understand what it means to be an Overlord just as much as you do not understand how to enjoy your drink.» Alastor said turning on his stool and leaning with his back on the counter.
«AH! Alcohol gets you drunk. That’s the big meaning behind it.»
Vox was about to chug down his whiskey when he felt something brushing over his side. As he yelped Alastor snickered, trying to camouflage it with a cough.
«AÆl- he glitched - what are you doing?»
«As you can see I am not doing anything.» he said raising his hands to prove his point. Vox straightened his back, looking at his surroundings in confusion.
His fogged brain was trying to process whether there was a threat or not. He felt electricity build up in his body.
As he raised his glass, he felt it again, something brushing his side, just lightly, but, when he turned, his eyes could only scan thin air.
«What is going on?» he mumbled putting the drink down.
Alastor didn’t answer, but he was having fun. Vox could see it by that stupid tail of his that was slightly wagging.
If it was his doing… oh no.
The tendrils came out of nowhere and wrapped around his torso, caressing his stomach and sides slowly.
Vox felt electricity between his fingers and in his antennas. He clamped his mouth shut with his hands, slightly kicking his feet.
«Is everything alright Vox?» Vox shook his head, little sparkles all around him. That fucker…
One of those tentacles circled around the center of his tummy, caressing the blue skin. He could feel the tip lightly scratching the sensitive area, making his body tremble.
It was so agonisingly slow. The gesture felt both sweet and mean, as if it were Alastor’s fingers toying with him.
Then he increased the pace.
Vox’s face started trembling, the image of his expression danced on the screen for a moment, deforming his flat features. Alastor came closer to his prey, enjoying every second.
«Maybe it would be better if you just let yourself…-» the tentacles that were around his stomach changed direction and dug in his hips «…Laugh.»
Vox giggles sparkled, as static electricity vibrated around him. He tried so hard to contain himself, but once the first chuckle was out he could not stop.
«AHAHAHAHL nohohoho.»
«No? But I’m not doing anything my dear! I think you had one too many of these.» he said sliding away the man’s drink, saving it from being destroyed.
«Yohohou knohow dæ-ámňņ well what you’re dohohoing.» Vox managed to say while trying to push his tentacles away.
«Of course I do.» he got closer, more tentacles coming from all around him. Vox felt his heart pounding in his chest, his face a mixture of fear and excitement. A stupid wobbly smile was plastered on his screen.
«And you’re enjoying every single second.» had Vox been a little less drunk he would have probably tried to retort, but all he could do was stare at Alastor’s tendrils.
Two of them wrapped around his wrists, raising his hands.
«Oh noho don’t y҉̗͚͚̯̋̏̍̑O̸͎͕̒̽͐̏U҉͓̦̰̘̌́̏̾͆ DARE ALASTOR!» the tentacles danced in front of him, circling around his underarms. Two of them were near his sides, and no matter how hard he tried to pull at his restraints he couldn’t free himself.
«Oh how I like seeing you like this.» Alastor sighed «So helpless.»
«Ahahahahahl Ihihi ha-hatehehe yohohor stupid gahames.» he protested. He was still sat on his absurdly high stool, his feet trying to touch the floor to push himself back. But there was nowhere to run.
Every demon in the place had already fled, believing that the Radio Demon had found his new victim. Well they weren’t completely wrong.
«Do not lie to me.» Alastor caressed Vox’s screen with a single finger, and fake sweat flashed on his face. «You love my games. And besides, a powerful Overlord like you should laugh at the face of danger.» that actually made Vox titter.
Anything said by Alastor made him laugh.
«Let me see your smile.»
All of the tentacles attacked at the same time, some caressing his skin, some scratching at the fabric of his clothes. They were under his arms, on his stomach, meaningly attacking his hips.
The laugh that left his throat gave Alastor goosebumps. It was loud, the loudest he had ever heard from him and it was so… carefree.
All the sense of control, the pressure of becoming a powerful Overlord, the high standards the man held on himself all crumbled down. And he was just helplessly laughing in front of his friend, eyes closed, not afraid to be hurt.
Unfortunately for him he was definitely too sensitive though and the moment a tendril flicked his antenna he started to glitch.
«NOHOHOHOHŒĦØ-»
A spark of electricity made the entire place blackout for a moment, before the lights came back on. Alastor looked at the display of power both amazed and awed.
The man was really strong.
«Be careful my friend-» Alastor’s voice came from much closer than before «We wouldn’t want you to short circuit would we?»
He decided to give him a little break.
The moment the tendrils freed him, Vox turned his back and held the counter with both of his hands, looking for stability.
He could not stop the giggles and titters leaving his body, feeling even drunken than before even though the alcohol was starting to wear off.
However, before Vox could stop laughing, a single tentacle snuck under the his shirt, through his sleeve, slowly and gently caressing his underarm with its tip. The small movement was driving Vox mad.
He collapsed on the counter, laughter now pouring out of him. His feet were kicking the air. The free arm was pounding on the surface, not lucid enough to try to free himself.
He let his head rest on the table, the screen tilted toward Alastor.
«Yohohouh bihihihitch.» he giggled before trying to pry away a new tendril that was slipping under his shirt, targeting his stomach.
His feet kicked harder and quicker as he started to hiccup. «Ihi- IHĮĦĮ- chahaæn’ț.» his voice changed and distorted.
Alastor drank another glass, closing his eyes and enjoying the flavour.
«Sooo» he stood up next to the giggling mess. «Do we wanna make a deal?» he asked making his tentacles stop their torture and back away.
Vox took a few seconds to compose himself before lifting his head and facing the other demon.
Giggles were still stuck in his throat, threatening to leave his body at every word. «A deahal?» he straightened his back and fixed his shirt, now turning his entire body towards the friend.
«I’m not selling my soul for some T̵̲̫̈́̉͗̂͆-tickles. You can’t be that stupid.»
«I am not, my friend. And for once I do not care for your soul! Oh no no no! I would like…-» he let the anticipation roll on Vox’s nerves as he approached him with twitching fingers. «-for you to never drink whiskey in such an inconsiderate way. You either taste your liquor or you don’t drink at all. You do not gobble your alcohol. You understand that young man don’t you?» and as he pronounced the last sentence, he started tracing invisible circles on Vox’s sides.
Vox closed his eyes and the giggle that escaped his lips was a mixture of ticklish agony and amusement.
«Are you finding my request funny?» his fingers danced on his sides.
«Oh c’mohohn Ahahal.» he kicked his feet again, very careful not to hit the demon in front of him. «Ihiht is fuhuhucking hilariohohohus.» he managed to say.
Alastor was not amused.
«Well if you think this is hilarious I cannot imagine what you’d think of t̷̥̲͎͇̤̒̈́̔h̵̳̪̰͋̊ȉ̵̭̦̰̊̉̒s̶͈͉͙͕̥̅̚.» as his voice distorted he drilled his thumbs in Vox’s hips, scratching slightly under his clothes.
Vox’s face became black for a few seconds, before returning to his loud self, pounding with his free hands on Alastor’s chest.
«Such a sweet sound.»
«Ḍ̷̙̙̪̏́̏̒͊e҈̫̓̓̈ͅĥ̴̤̖̪̓́͗̀a҉̤̩͙̏̿ĥ̴̤̖̪̓́͗̀a҉̤̩͙̏̿ĥ̴̤̖̪̓́͗̀a҉̤̩͙̏̿l̸̳͓͔͇̗̋͌̈ ḍ̶̣͎͍͇̐̂̉̿̎e̷͎̘͌̈a҈̫͎͆̏̇l̵͉͚͓̃̄ ḍ̶̣͎͍͇̐̂̉̿̎e̷͎̘͌̈e҈̫̓̓̈ͅĥ̴̤̖̪̓́͗̀e҈̫̓̓̈ͅĥ̴̤̖̪̓́͗̀a҈̫͎͆̏̇l̵͉͚͓̃̄.» his glitched and distorted voice came so soft to Alasto’s ear.
Alastor stopped with a chuckle.
«You enjoyed it.» he said before stepping away.
«Oh well don’t think I didn’t notice your tail wagging.» the tv demon whispered with a smile on his face.
Alastor turned himself, hiding his back and his stupid soft tail, a small blush colouring his cheeks.
Vox laughed again, a genuine laugh, and then grabbed his own glass. The older man way eyeing him, fingers ready to summon his power once more.
Vox drank slowly, feeling the warmth of the alcohol. He closed his eyes, enjoying the taste.
Alastor smiled at him, the genuine smile reserved to these late night, where the alcohol in their veins made their heads lighter and their words easier to leave their lips.
The words Alastor pronounced forty-five years ago echoed in the empty room. They sounded sincere, no filter altering them, just honesty and liquor on his tongue.
«You’re like a sparkle in the night Vox. You make this dark world brighter with your smile. Remember that»
Vox closed his eyes and let out a sight. He hugged himself for a moment and let those words sink in, burning his soul.
He allowed himself to feel this way for a few seconds, before turning everything off and straightening his jacket.
He had to go now.
He needed to find out what that pompous old prick was planning.
~~~
I feel like I’ve been working on this fics for a month, but it’s actually been a couple of weeks.
I loved exploring Vox and Alastor’s dynamic and showing Alastor being kind of a mentor for Vox.
Initially Valentino had a part in this fic, but in the end his role got cut off, but who knows! I might explore their relationship and how it affected Vox and Alastor in future fics! In this universe (yeah, the one I created pretty much for this single tickle fic) Al and Vox originally had a strong relationship, something between platonic and romantic, that got ruined when Vox met Valentino and started hanging out with him (Even though I strongly believe that in the serie Vox was the one that fell in love and Alastor was just trying to get something out of him and eventually got tired of Vox and left him)
The first scene felt really like when Hamilton and Burr go drink together at the beginning of the musical ahahahaha.
I don’t know when will I publish the new fic, it will take me a long time before I am able to write so much again.
Let me know what you think guys 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻
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houseofevanbuckley · 2 days
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Not even going anon for this q... please give us all more parents!bucktommy!!!!
Oh lord … I’m obsessed with them as parents, so it’s not a hardship at all
I want to go back to the start though, to how this family started.
They’ve been together for a few months when they have their first talk about having kids. Buck was babysitting Jee and took her to Tommy’s place since he has a garden and Tommy can’t stop thinking about it for days afterward. Buck in his garden with a kid. The sight was just so good, the way they played and ran around together.
Tommy can’t stop thinking about it. And it’s not the first time he thinks about it, to be honest. He loved to see Buck talking and helping Christopher with his homework and anything, really. Spending the day all three of them at a museum or park while Eddie can spend time with Marisol or for himself.
Tommy actually loves to make a date of anytime they have to babysit the kids, taking them all outside, parks, museums, theme parks, beach, you name it, and Tommy took them there.
So while they cuddle one day, he just asks if Buck ever thought about having his own one day.
And Buck turns around to look at Tommy, because he feels that as innocent as the question is, it is a sign of their growth as a couple, of Tommy thinking long term and he has to face the man for it.
Buck, who talks about how he felt when he held the baby, that he helped to conceive, for a few minutes and how his life just came to a halt. How seeing Jee for the first time on her mom’s chest had his heart squeezed.
He always assumed that his life would fall in line, the wife, the house, the kids.
But if he let the wife cliche go, he still thinks that he’d like the rest. The house, the kids.
And what he doesn’t say, the husband.
Tommy just hugs him tighter and confesses that when he came out, letting go of the potential of having kids was the hardest part, but that with how the world change he wanted to believe in it again.
It absolutely unlocks something between them, this talk of the future, of a future together and of shared dream.
That’s why when two years later, after their wedding, after their new house, Hen and Karen go to them when they had a call for a little boy. A three months old. The child is orphaned, no dad or grandparents filed anywhere, and no one is still alive on his mother's side.
They already had three foster kids, in addition to Denny so having a fifth child in the house would be a challenge, one that they would embrace but when the worker asked them if they had people in mind that would take the boy they thought of Buck and Tommy.
The boys who look at each other, hands clasping together while Karen shows pictures of a small blond boy bundled up in a green blanket.
Buck is the one who asks, “what do we have to do?” and by the squeezing he feels around his fingers from Tommy, it was the right thing to say.
Thanks to Karen and Hen having been exemplary in all the years of them taking kids in, and because it’s a baby, the process is sped up. Not that it’s fast or easy.
Just after the visit, Buck goes on a cleaning spree, pulling out a clipboard and going full Clipboard!Buck on himself and Tommy. The house has never been this clean since they moved in.
The garden is mowed, plants and trees are pruned.
Tommy has even been sent on the roof to clean it and he did with a smile, seeing how serious and excited Buck was, making himself even more excited for this new adventure with his husband.
When they go back to their respective stations after their two days off, each of them gather letters of recommendation and characters from their teams, which also announce to them all that they want to welcome that baby boy in their house.
It takes them a week to have the house ready and their letters from everyone, filling their foster parents’ file with the help of Hen and Karen.
Buck vibrating out of his skin each night while they cuddle, and Tommy doesn’t count how many times he caught Buck on baby clothes websites, but he’s just as bad as him. Having screenshoted so many cute onesies, his ads are now only baby formula and toys.
It takes them one more week before they get a call back from the agency for a first visit of their house and an interview.
They have to wait for three days for a feedback of that visit. Buck is a wreck and Tommy had been asked to stay grounded with how distracted he’s been.
Finally, they get a call for a second visit at their house with two workers this time. The questions are more in-depth.
A few days letter they have a call from Bobby saying that they had a call from the agency to talk about Buck and Tommy. And a day later, Lucy calls them with the same news. Quickly enough, Maddie and Tommy’s brother were called as well.
It takes them one more month, random visits and calls before they get the call.
They can take Noah home starting four days from now.
Buck pulls the clipboard out again, but this time he enrolls everyone.
Maddie and Chimney are sent to the shop to get the formula and diapers, mountains of each.
Tommy and Eddie are painting the guest room, Noah’s room. They agreed on a soft forest green for the walls, and blue for the ceiling with small white clouds.
Buck has Pinterest boards, ok? And he’s going to make this room the best room for a child.
May and Denny went to the shop to pick up plushies and games.
Buck is finally ordering all the onesies he and Tommy saw online and baby proofing the whole house: one cupboard, one drawer, one window at a time.
Bobby making food for them all and helping where he can.
One week later, the social worker come to their house. They’re alone. They wanted to welcome him, just them. Noah will be presented on Sunday to the whole family, but now it’s Thursday and the next 3 days are theirs, and only theirs.
Buck is the one to open the door, his breathing stuttering and his blood pumping in his ears, until he fully opens the door and his eyes fall on the car seat where Noah sleeps and everything quiet down.
He hasn’t felt this calm and quiet since his and Tommy’s first kiss, but after all, his world is changing again today and shouldn’t it warrant the same reaction?
The worker enters and does a last inspection, more a formality than anything else, but it could still mean that she’d leave with Noah.
She goes around the house and leave Noah in his seat in their living room where Buck and Tommy can’t stop looking at his sleeping form.
Finally, she comes back from her inspection and sees how they are hugging and looking at the seat and she can see how excited they are, how much they already love the little boy.
“Do you want to take him?” she asks, and Buck looks at her with watery eyes and nods.
She goes to the seat to free Noah from it and carry him toward Buck’s, who’s himself held by Tommy, and she very gently places Noah in his arms.
Tommy and him looks down at the boy. They know that for now it’s only a temporary placement, that anything could happen. But Noah is in their arms now and they couldn’t feel happier or more complete.
Small follow up here : https://www.tumblr.com/houseofevanbuckley/748906523907014656/the-tie-is-blue-and-i-love-you
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sykosugu · 2 days
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♤♢ on the run ♧♡ | five
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♤ summary: she's an infamous bank robber, and he's the only detective that's been able to get close to her. he was never apart of her plans. but he's got his clutches in her and she can't let go.a geto suguru au
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♢ warnings: this story will contain descriptions of violence, destructive behavior, toxic behavior, illegal activities, sexual content, death. use of weapons. forbidden romance
♧ aw: character death (not mc), blood, violence, ooc toji,
♡ currently: completed
♤ taglist: closed
♢ wc: 2.3k
♧ carlile speaks: omg we have arrived at the end of Sugu and Ruby's story. Im not sure how some of you will react to this part but I'm excited to find out! thank you all so much for the love over the course of this story. this was my first post in the jjk fandom and I feel like I was welcomed with open arms. I love and appreciate every single one of you in this community I've built. thank you all again for deeming me worthy of your time! see you in the next story! ALSO a big thank you to @celestie0 for helping me with this final chapter. I would not have done it without you!
♡: previous part | you are here
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Toji Fushiguro was your best friend. Or at least you thought he was. Toji was a contact you made when you were eighteen years old, fresh out of highschool and right after your parents had kicked you out. Claiming they don’t want to enable your lifestyle. Doing drugs with your friends, until the drugs no longer interested you. Then came the shoplifting. That’s where you shined. You could steal anything. Chanel. Prada. Louis V. Any of it. What can you say, you wanted the best of the best. 
You’d been staying with some of your “friends” you’d made along the way. Friends who more so wanted you to live the life they were living; sitting at home getting high all day, but you wanted the action. You wanted to be in the trenches. Wanted the thrill of the job, not the fabricated thrill from the drugs. You wanted the real high.
Toji was someone you ran into at the right time, he needed someone to train to help with small bank heists and you needed somewhere new to stay.
Toji was there for you. He housed you, kept you fed. Kept you happy, in so many more ways than one. He gave you an immense amount of knowledge. How to keep your cool. How to handle a weapon. How to make yourself into a weapon. 
“You are your biggest asset, use it.” rings in your ears during every job. 
All of the hand to hand combat you’d learned was taught to you by him. He was the first person you’d ever unintentionally kicked their ass.
“Again,” he pants, wiping the blood from his nose on the back of his hand, a sick smile on his face. He flexes his hands before balling them back into fists, taking his standing position; arms up in front of his face.
“Toji,” you warn. “I think we got th–,” you start to object, but Toji isn't having any of that.
“Again.”
And so you do. You continuously knock this grown man to the floor. His eyes grow with adoration after every punch; every kick. He was so proud. Nobody was ever able to land a blow, much less knock him off his feet. But you were so quick and nimble, he was hardly able to keep track of you. 
You’d originally only ever used masks and weapons to rob your banks, but when you met Toji your entire perception of the way you could do everything changed. He was the one who taught you to hide most of your face. Only leave behind minor details they can use. Always follow them into the room, never be the first. And always leave last. 
Toji was beyond proud of you. That’s why when you’d met Sukuna and immediately fell for his charm, his attitude changed. He was less than thrilled. It wasn’t a shock to him that he’d fallen for you, but it wasn't something he’d planned on either. He thought you’d had the chemistry, but his timing was all off. You’d met Sukuna. He didn’t anticipate someone else scooping you up the way he wanted to. Toji wanted everything with you, he was training you to be able to reign with him, not somebody else. Toji needed a way to be close to you, so he became Sukuna’s right hand. His business partner. Working his ass off to get the position he’s in now. Practically kissing Sukuna’s ass in order to be near you. Taking job after stupid job to prove himself worthy.
If only Toji had been honest with you from the start.
Sukuna was greedy. He had everything but needed more. Craved it even. Then he met you and needed to have you too.
But you showed him up. Toji had trained you beyond what anyone had ever seen before. You made Sukuna feel small; and that just wasn’t going to fly. Sukuna wanted you to keep his bed warm more than anything since he found out you were more skilled than him. Sukuna tried his best to kill your spirit; slowly of course. Taking you off of jobs, telling you that your skillset wasn't as good as others and you were not needed anymore. He tried distracting you with money and shopping sprees that worked for a while, but you eventually run out of things to buy when you have the access to buy anything you want. He even made sure to make you question your own physical appearance by slyly flirting with other members of his team in front of you; then gaslighting you into thinking you were seeing things. 
Toji held you when you cried to him. He’d smooth his hands up and down your back as you sobbed into his chest. How he’d wish you would see how terribly you were being treated. But if sukuna found out he was speaking ill of him, he'd be dealt with. So he held out for as long as he could, but you were the first one to break. You wanted to leave and live a life of your own. Toji was so happy for you, but wanted that life with you. He’d never told you any of these things, in fear of rejection from you and in fear of retaliation from his now boss.
Toji wishes you’d never introduced him to Sukuna. Toji wishes you’d be his. Toji’s world fell apart when he found out you were making beds with a cop. The actual enemy. He thought you’d be smarter than that. 
When Sukuna informed Toji of his plan to execute you for treason, he was terrified. But he couldn't say anything. He couldn't risk losing everything he’d built, especially now knowing you’d never felt the same way about him. He assumes so anyways, claiming it was the safe assumption.
Toji knew something had gone amiss the day Sukuna went to finish the job and he hadn’t returned. Toji was prepared to take over no questions asked. He began making changes in command, having conversations with his chain when there was word of disturbances in the hall.
Once the police bore into the casino penthouse, aiming straight for Toji, he knew exactly who he was dealing with when he looked into Suguru’s eyes as he stared him down behind the barrel of his gun. 
“Toji Fushiguro, you are under arrest for the murder of Ryomen Sukuna. You have the right to remain silent…” Satoru speaks from his spot in the middle of the room, gun raised at the man seated before him.
“So, you’re the one, huh?” Toji speaks over Satoru, nodding his head at Suguru.
“What?” Suguru lowers his gun momentarily.
“You’re the one she fell for,” Toji laughs from his chair. He swirls the whiskey around in his glass before he stands, raising his hands into the air. “I didn't do this, but I’ll go down so she doesn't have to.”
Satoru walks behind him to place the cuffs around his wrists.
“You loved her too.” Suguru states. “Didn’t you?”
Toji just smiles as Satoru walks him out in his cuffs. He did. He loved you more than anything else on this planet. But he’d rather you live the life you wanted than stand in your way. It’s why he helped you leave Sukuna before. He knew you didn’t see him in that same light and he was okay with that. He was just happy to see you happy.
Suguru felt bad at that moment, but he knew he’d keep that information to himself. 
The copious amounts of forged documents, planted evidence, fake witness statements.. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that Toji wasn't the one who killed Sukuna. Everything made it seem like Toji was tired of being second in command and wanted it all. 
Toji would take whatever punishment was coming his way; he knew this was your doing. He knew you’d be broken once you found out he hadn’t attempted to stop Sukuna. Toji was supposed to be your safe haven, and he let you down. He knew that. So he was prepared to take whatever you thought was a suitable punishment for him. He’d kneel on the ground you walked on if it meant making you smile. Especially since the guilt ate him up inside for never standing up for you earlier. He swears he’d do anything to make you happy, but he cowers away when you actually need him. Toji knew he was a coward. He knew he could have done something earlier but he didn’t. 
Toji was convicted and placed on death row for the murder of Sukuna. The revenge plan you had set in motion had come to a head, you just had to do this one last job and then the life you planned with Suguru would be in the palm of your hand.
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Toji’s son was your last target; you tracked him for weeks while you located the item in question: Toji’s unsealed will.
The will contains everything you would need. The numbers to multiple offshore accounts with millions of dollars. The deeds to houses spread throughout the world. Everything his kids would need beyond his lifeline.
Seventy seconds. In and out.
Suguru is outside waiting for you. Something you’re not used to. But the sense of security feels nice for once. Every job before this one you’d done alone. Having the man you’re willing to risk everything for waiting for you while you perform the most important job of your life has every nerve alight with anticipation, and also relief; Knowing he’d be there if something went wrong. Your heart could burst out of your chest in appreciation for him.
Satoru is down the street, handling the signal blocker for the alarm at the bank. Intercepting the signal is the easy part, but keeping it down for seventy seconds is the hard part. But Satoru isn't worried. 
The bank manager approaches you with keys in hand, “Safety deposit room, right?” the man timidly asks. His question throws you off momentarily. Your smug smile falls as he speaks.
“How’d you know that?” you ask, reaching for your gun.
“Stop, Ruby. We’re playing by my rules from now on.” Satoru’s voice startles you from behind. 
“Satoru, you’re making a huge mistake right now,” you warn, your hands remaining where he can see them.
“The only ones making mistakes are you and Geto.” 
“He’ll be in here once he realizes I’m taking too long. You know that as much as I do.”
“Oh, I'm counting on it,” he sneers, “Now, turn around and face me.” 
You hear the sound of his gun click, making you chuckle.
“I don’t need his help anyways,” you duck down and sweep your feet under his legs, catching him off guard and making him tumble backwards onto the floor. A big cracking sound fills the air as his head makes contact with the hard floor. “I can handle myself, you should have known that, Satoru.” 
The few onlookers in the bank unsure of what to do, the silent alarm still won’t trigger.
Satoru looks up at you from his spot on the floor, a ringing in his ears from how hard his head collided with the marble. “You won’t get away with this,” he pants out in pain, clutching the back of his skull. His gun. He needed his gun. Where? Where did it end up? His head just hurts and that’s all he can focus on. His GUN, whERE IS IT? Satoru, where is y–
“I already did,” and with that you leave him laying there, your gaze serving as a warning as you pull the bank manager in the direction of the safety deposit room. He opens exactly what you want; no questions asked.
Unfortunately, you decided no loose ends this time. The bank manager met his fate inside the safety deposit room. He begged, but only for a minute. This wasn’t like you. Look what love did to you. Love and betrayal. Everyone you had ever loved betrayed you. But not Suguru. 
Never Suguru.
Sounds of fighting pull your train of thought from the lifeless man in front of you. Making a swift exit with the paperwork tucked into your jacket, you head for the source of the sound. 
“What are you doing, Satoru? This isn’t what we agreed on,” Suguru groans from their wrestling spot on the floor. Arms are being pinned, yanked free and then pinned again. The men fight to get the upper hand.
“I told you that I took an oath to stand up to people like you and her. This isn't a game, Geto. Don't you see that?” 
Suguru stops for a moment, looking at his friend while he processes the words leaving his mouth.
“Sugu,” you call from your position, gun raised and pointed directly at the white haired man before you.
“Now, Ru!” he calls to you, turning Satoru’s upper body so his back faces you. There’s silence. So much silence that follows the shot. Suguru looks at his friend beneath him with tears in his eyes. The hurt and betrayal laced behind every feature. The life leaves Satoru’s eyes as the men lock their gazes. “I told you, you won’t take her from me.” 
He stands from his spot, walking over to you.
“Are you okay?” he asks, looking you over.
“Fine. You?” you rush out. He nods quickly. “We need to go, now,” you grab hold of one of his hands, pulling him towards the exit. 
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“You know we’re about to be on the run for the rest of our lives together?”
“Are you complaining?” he asks from the driver's side, sunglasses pushed atop his head as he weaves his way through the mountainous roads.
“Of course not. Never when it's with you.”
“I love you, Ru.”
“I love you more, Sugu.”
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♡ tags: @celestie0 @lostfracturess @alwaysfreakingout @shervinss @jaelahh @gojolvrr34 @shesplendl @phoenix-eclipses @nanasukii28 @mylifetold @bakuhoethotski @4y3sh4 @whereflowerswenttodie @drakenswifeyy
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coco-loco-nut · 2 days
Text
imgonnagetyouback
pairing: logan sargeant x reader
summary: you aren’t sure if you want to destroy his car or take him home with you
a/n: most of this was written late at night and not proofread. love y’all, thanks for answering the poll, that was fun. might do it again
requests open masterlist
————————
You enter your usual Miami haunt with your friends, one mission in mind. Your lilac skirt fits your like a glove, showing off your legs and curves. It was Logan’s favorite.
Logan was an asshole, he knows it, ever since he broke up with you last year. He’s been keeping tabs on your socials recently, knowing this is where you go when you are in Miami instead of Fort Lauderdale. He brought Oscar with him as moral support, they stand at the bar, laughing over some bubbly drink.
Your eyes scan the club as you walk in, slightly pausing when you recognize the blonde guy staring at you from the bar, you can tell when someone wants you. Instead, you train your eyes on some guy on the dance floor, sending him a flirty smile and joining him for a dance or two, giving Logan a chance to pull himself together before going in. He can’t help but tell Oscar how good you look. The trap has been sprung. You are going to get Logan back. Whether romantically or by revenge, you weren’t sure.
You walk over to the bar, pretending to have not noticed the pair, standing one seat over.
“Tequila shot,” you order and Logan takes his chance.
“Add two more and put it on my tab,” Logan tells the bartender, Oscar gags a little, but doesn’t protest. You give Logan a look he can’t decipher, but you slide into the seat beside them.
“Thanks,” you say, the awkward small talk between the three of you filling the time as you wait for the shots. Logan salts his wrist for his shot. You grab his wrist, lick it, and throw back the shot. Oscar barely suppresses his laugh as you turn to go back to the dance floor. Logan quickly throws back the shot and follows you. Your friends find Oscar and chat, the group curious to see how this pans out.
“Y/n,” Logan catches your wrist, you act like you don’t care about him, but you can see the whispers in his eyes searching if you still love him. It breaks your cold heart a little. “Don’t be mad, please. I never wanted to hurt you,” he says, trying to win you back.
“I’m like your fucking car. You steered me into the fucking ditch then ran off,” you say after a second, turning back towards the crowd, he just pulls you closer.
“I’m so sorry. I hate myself for that,” he admits, you ignore him, dancing to the beat, not pushing him away but not encouraging him to dance with you either. Just when things are feeling too comfortable, you walk away in the direction of the bathrooms. Logan follows.
“Will you give me a chance?” he asks, the music quiet in the background. ‘God, he’s so fucking fine’ you think to yourself. The lighting doing everything right, the shadows enhance his jawline but his eyes shine bright.
“I haven’t decided yet,” your eyes revealing more than you intended. He can see the hurt and love in them. You aren’t sure if you want to curse him out or bring him home.
“What can I do,” he grabs your hands.
“I don’t know. I’m between being your wife or smashing your car,” you say, steeling yourself. Logan is thinking twice, unsure if he was ever yours or was never not yours. Logan pulls your closer, kissing you. Your body automatically responds to him. letting him pull you close.
“You’re mine,” you whisper, the temptation to both flip him off or pull him into the bathroom strong. He follows you back to the dance floor, you can feel the tension and chemistry coming back, electricity humming in the way you dance together. It’s like pressing a reset button, becoming something new. Oscar and your friends left a while ago, knowing the two of you were determined to leave here together from the start.
You tell the cab the address of your Miami apartment. Every moment that passes sees the hurt and past fade to gray.
“Pick your poison, I’m poison either way,” you had told Logan earlier, he chose you anyway, the both of you wanting to play with the broken pieces of your former relationship.
He pushes you against the wall, kissing you passionately.
“Before we do this, where do you stand? If we go ahead, there is no turning back,” Logan stops, needing to know that you belong to him again, you already know he belongs to you.
“I hate you but I love you just the same. I’m gonna get you back,” you tug on his shirt, pulling him back to you, a feral need for him growing.
It wasn’t a surprise to Logan’s friends when you showed up to the Miami paddock later that week.
What was a surprise was the ring around your finger, one that matches the one around Logan’s.
“What the hell?” Oscar asks, a smile on his face.
“I’m not going to let her go again,” Logan looks down at you with a smile.
“I chose to love him till the end, luckily for Sauber,” you joke, referencing the team who decided to take a chance on Logan and help him develop.
“I’m happy for you two,” Oscar says, happy to see his best friend happy. Everyone but your parents were happy for you, the parents were just mad you got married without them there.
“I am too, but I will take it out on his car if he hurts me again,” you tell Oscar, joking but not joking. Logan just holds you closer. You both told each other about your plans to get each back, it caused a lot of laughter.
“That’s my wife,” he grins proudly. Oscar shakes his head at his friends.
“You did what!” Alex runs over to the two of you. “Where was my invite? Oh, glad to have you back Y/n, Lily missed you,” Alex says, as the two of you just laugh.
instagram
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y/nsargeant what if i told you i’m a mastermind, and now your mine ❤️
logansargeant it was all by design ❤️
oscarpiastri not letting the two of you go back to a club, Y/n will end up pregnant or something
y/friend1 you both took getting each other back a little too seriously. this is why i love you
user1 hold up, since when were mom and dad back together??
user2 AND MARRIED??
y/friend2 you really went to the club heartbroken and left ready to get married😭 ilysm
alexalbon they are so unserious 😭
sauberf1 when did this happen? LOGAN??? we’re not mad. pick up your phone
charlesleclerc ^^^
carlossainz55 ^^^
landonorris ^^^
georgerussell iconic
y/nsargeant thanks pookie 🫶
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