#I remember being like “there's no way in hell Light is into women” yet not shipping him with a single character on that first watch.

[diejager]

If you might be taking requests at all, I was wondering if you'd be up for the idea of a fic with sleazy König or Ghost in an arranged marriage to the reader. Reader isn't quite happy with the marriage, but they are. It could be dark or cute, but I'd love to read a fic about an arranged marriage where reader is completely against it meanwhile their new husband is not. They've been hoping to marry reader for a while and now that they have, reader is all theirs in more ways than one. Scares off any men reader tries to date on the side and is hell bent on showing their lovely spouse that this marriage is perfect and that they truly do belong together.

Sleazy husband!König Cw: DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, sleazy!König, arranged marriage, age difference/gap, scent kink, crusty balls, hairy König, tell me if I missed any.

König was a family friend, someone you’d seen a few times in your life, but had heard of many, many times that he was a commodity in your life, a subject you became familiar with without actually knowing the man. You’d caught glimpses of the giant when you accompanied your father to the military base for a quick visit, how he towered over you as a child and even more so now that you were an adult in your early 20s. You thought him an acquaintance, a trusted friend of your father, but you’d never thought of him in any other light. You saw him as someone dedicated to his duty, prideful and hungry for power and money, unbeatable and strong with his broad shoulders and gigantic stature. You wouldn’t have anything to do with him in your life, seeing how he barely glanced your way when you crossed path, he dutifully ignored you every time as if you were a plague.

And yet, you found yourself married to him; an arranged marriage. The colonel who avoided you and never seemed to like you had a private marriage with only your immediate family and a few men and women from the Company assisting to watch him embrace and take you home. A home you had no recollection of and were a stranger to. It wasn’t his flat, or the studio apartment you went to with your father. This big house was new and old, a newly bought house in with fresh paint and untouched furniture, in an old Austrian land with a beautiful and lush forest surrounding it. You didn’t even know the man, but you were married to him so quickly - in a month’s worth - that you were still too shell shocked to do anything about it. 

How could your mother and father agree to it so easily? To marry you off to someone you didn’t know. Then you remembered how close your father and he was, life companions that had fought battles together, bled for one another and would die to save the other. That was the reason you were promised without your consent or knowledge until it was too late. 

“Mein Herzchen,” he rasps, peering down at you, cold blues glowing under the darkness of his hood, “Come.”

König - your husband - was a man of few words, but wouldn’t stop talking if he found the right topic to touch, speaking your ears off about it. There were a lot you didn’t know about him, a mystery you didn’t dare try figuring out, but were forced to. You learned he was a dirty and immoral man, to have you marry him despite him being almost twice your age. He could’ve been your uncle, a man who’s age was near your fathers. You learned that he liked jerking himself to the sight of your open pantie drawers, an unwashed and stolen lace pressed into his face, the soft gusset pressed into his mouth and nose as he huffed and growled. You were repulsed by it, finally understanding why some of your underwearswere slightly crusty. 

You learned that he never shaved after your first night, consummating your marriage in the bed you later slept on. You were shocked to find that his chest and arms were as hairy as the tuff around his cock, wild and unruly, a messy bush crawling up his abdomen and spiraling around his chest and covering his paler tint in auburn brown. You learned that he never showered after a sweaty and stinky work out, his musk stinking up the house wherever he went and that he loved pressing you against his naked and sticky chest, smothering you in his thick smell that nearly had you gagging and choking. You couldn’t find the words to describe a man like König, as big and burly as he was hairy and smelly, he was unmoving in his resolve and liked to touch you whenever he wanted to, whether you liked it or not, his word was law.

Your husband was a sleazy man and you couldn’t do anything about it, the golden bound diamond ring on your finger was more so a chain than a wonderful promise.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry

#x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #konig x reader #konig mw2 #Sleazy!konig #Sleazy!könig #konig cod #könig mw2 #könig x reader #dead dove do not eat #tw: dark content #dark cod #dark content #tw: dub con #tw noncon #arranged marriage #scent kink #Stinky!könig #Stinky!konig #tw: age gap #age difference

[reriart]

While Your Lips Are Still Red

Summary: You suffer for what's happening in your life and you tried to put an end to it, but Astarion saved you.

Notes/TW: I wrote this fanfiction thinking about my Tav (female), but I wrote it gender-neutral so you can think about your OC (or you!) without any problems. The theme of suicide is the focus of this story, so if you are particularly sensitive to the theme and don't feel okay, please don't read it! I chose this topic because it is particularly dear and close to me. No one deserves to suffer and if you need it don't hesitate to contact a hotline. You are not alone!

There's also a bit of romance.

Please remember that English is not my native language.

Your sight grew darker and blurrier.

The bright stars in the sky, your only companions on nights when nightmares seemed to prevail, now seemed like many small, confused, and meaningless dots — the last, silent judges of your ruthless act.

You had decided to end everything: the story of the tadpoles, the absolute, the emperor... it was too much.

Your life had never been peaceful from the beginning, but the limit to how you could tolerate pain had become increasingly thin. You had tried every loophole possible, including considering joining Shadowheart in her crusade for Shar's honor; but just a few days before, you had convinced her to abandon the Lady of Loss and embrace her loving sister Selune. Because for her, your best friend, there was still hope, a glimmer of divine light ready to welcome her.

But not for you. Each fight had become more exhausting, each rescue mission more violent, soaked in innocent blood. The harpists, the tieflings. Children who would never play again, men and women who would never love again.

You should have rejoiced that you were still alive. To still be able to enjoy that great gift that life was. Yet now, cradled by the cold waters of the lake, not far from your sleeping companions, unaware of everything, your injured wrists let the red blood stain that crystalline liquid.

After making sure everyone was asleep (or in a trance, or on patrol, in Astarion's case), you had pulled your dagger from its sheath and used it on yourself right on the shore. You wanted to stab yourself and get it over with as quickly as possible, but you couldn't.

And now, at the mercy of the sweet waves, you waited for your moment. The moment when it would all end. You had managed to isolate the Emperor thanks to Gale, with the excuse of "I need a spell that silence everything for a few hours, or I won't even sleep tonight". A little suspicious, the wizard of Waterdeep finally granted your request. This way, none of your group would have the slightest signal from the tadpoles.

Your head felt lighter… it was like being drunk. A bitter smile spread across your face as your limbs grew numb, and your body grew colder and colder. The eyelids, however, became extremely heavy, as if there were a stone holding them down, and his heartbeat pounded in the eardrums like a war drum. The body became lighter and lighter but also heavier. The arms wanted only to go down, further down, towards the depths of the lake.

Your vision became almost completely blurred, your heartbeat infinitely slow: it was the end. One last breath and everything would have ended, if it hadn't been the rippling water and the cold hands (but warmer than your skin) that tore you away from the agonized embrace of death.

Thump-sounding words filled your head, but you didn't understand their meaning. A pale blob stood in front of you, squirming like a madman. A gasp came from your mouth as you recognized the figure. It was Astarion, visibly panicking. Perhaps thanks to the adrenaline of seeing him so agitated, you managed to understand his words.

"What the hell did you think?!" he almost screamed, lifting you out of the water to hold you. His gaze fell to your wrists which continued to bleed and you saw him swallow and clench his jaw. "I… one thing at a time. Now I have to think about getting you out of here, damn it." He rolled his eyes so as not to focus too much on your wounds, a temptation for him, especially after his failed hunt earlier. You didn't have the energy to reply, so you just let the elf pick you up, your eyelids too numb to allow you to look at him. You could only see his worried look, his milky white eyebrows furrowed.

Once you reached the shore, you felt Astarion spinning around. “If I take you to camp like this they'll think I bled you dry before you even let me explain,” he whispered. The companions were not within earshot, although relatively close, but it was normal for the vampire to operate in the shadows. You felt your body hit the ground and when you had enough strength to open your eyes, you noticed that he had found shelter in the forest. Your back was leaning against a large log, your legs stretched out on the damp ground.

“A…Astarion?” you whispered. "What…?"

“We'll leave the explanations for later, darling. Give me your wrists,” he ordered. Your tired eyes reflected fear. Did he want to bite you? Finish you there?

Noticing your hesitation, he took them both in his cold hands. "I do not want to hurt. Let me save you." His voice was calm, but his eyes hid a nervousness you had rarely seen. He swallowed, and bringing your wrists to his mouth, he licked them. His red eyes glowed like rubies and his breath trembled against your veins as a short, strangled moan escaped his throat. He seemed to struggle against himself, before placing your wrists on the ground, perhaps with a little too much force. You almost heard him growl as his jaw muscles clenched and his fingers trembled.

The wounds were gone. You blinked several times, lifting your arms with difficulty. It was as if they had never existed!

“I… thank you, Astarion. For saving me. Because of this. It must have been diff…”. Your head was spinning fast, so fast. You felt like the ground was disappearing from underneath your body and you almost fell to the side, if it weren't for the vampire, who grabbed you, preventing your head from hitting a stone.

“Do you want… me to hold you?” he asked with an apprehensive look, his voice a little more serious than usual. Maybe it was the lack of blood that made you see misleading things because he didn't look like Astarion at all. However, by now you didn't care about anything anymore, for all you knew he might as well be a shape-shifting monster ready to make a single morsel of you. You nodded your head and Astarion pulled you into his arms, resting your back against his chest.

"Better?" he asked. His breath tickled your neck.

“Mh hm” you replied. "Listen…"

You felt his arms become firmer around you.

"I am sorry." His voice was a whisper. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. Maybe all this wouldn't have happened."

You frowned, tilting your head slightly, which made it spin even more than before, confusing you to the point of making you feel drunk. "What…? What didn't you tell me...?”

The pale elf peered at the now distant black lake through the trunks of the forest. He didn't have the courage to meet your gaze.

“That I love you, my dear. Or rather, I told you that time as a joke, at the camp. Those words that I said to all the victims before taking them to Cazador." His gaze finally found its way to yours, glossy for the tears you were trying to hold back. Your heart, slow at first, began to thunder in your skull like a hammer, your breath became shorter and you tried to move away from him.

It wasn’t possible. It couldn't be. Was he taking advantage of that situation? Was he joking? Was it a demon, perhaps Raphael, ready to extort some contract from you?

"I do not believe you". Your voice trembled with fear and weakness, but even if you wanted to, you couldn't escape. You couldn't feel your legs anymore and the breath burned in your lungs. Even if you wanted to scream no one would have heard you.

Your panic didn't come from the fear of being eaten, but from the fact that Astarion had been the last bastion of salvation for you before you thought about harming yourself. You had feelings for him for a long time now, and your eyes often drifted over his slender frame as you tried to fall asleep in your bedroll as he drifted further into the darkness. When you allowed him to drink your blood, his bites and lips continued to torment you in the night, but far from unpleasant reasons. However, convinced that you were not reciprocated and considering his ambition for power and the constant flirting during missions even with bears, those words looked fake to you. You bit your lip, curling up as much as you could.

“No, no, don't be like that... look at me,” he said while lifting your chin with one hand. You didn't want to, you didn't want to accept the reality and feel terribly stupid for almost throwing your life away when the one you loved maybe actually reciprocated your feelings. When your eyes finally met, you saw him for what he truly was.

A fragile creature. His look was desperate, the mouth curved in an expression of infinite sadness. His other hand caressed your hair... a pleasant contact, which made you relax a little. "Listen to me. I know I don't have the easiest of temperament” he confessed, a bitter laugh, with his typical accent, changed his expression for a moment. “And I want you to know that everything you see of me is not… true. It's that bastard Cazador who turned me into a monster. But you made me feel something that in two hundred years, under his control, I had never felt.”

You rested your face in his hand, now cupping your cheek. You decided to trust. If it was a dream or a near-death hallucination, you wanted to live every minute of it.

"What?"

"Free. I feel free” he murmured, and his lips rested on yours in a sweet, delicate kiss. They were surprisingly soft and tasted vaguely of iron and mulberry, but that contact was enough to feel a new, powerful rush of adrenaline bringing you back to the present.

It was really happening. You were in his arms and he had saved you from certain death. And now he was kissing you in the sweetest way possible, both of his hands cupping your face as if you were in danger of breaking at any moment.

It seemed like an eternal, perfect kiss that you wanted to leave suspended in time. When you opened your eyes again, you found his. So vulnerable, so desperate. He ran a finger over your lip, before being grabbed and hugged like his life depended on it.

"Stay with me. Forever."

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #baldur's gate iii #baldur's gate 3 oc #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x you

[dean-samw67]

Jill Valentine x f!reader smut fic please 😈

Scandal

Jill Valentine x Fem!Reader

(A/N: Hell yeah now we are talking! Jill Valentine, my love. I got my prompt from @creativepromptsforwriting here on tumblr! ALSO THIS IS A WLW POST IF MEN COME IN HERE AND BE CREEPY YOU WILL BE BLOCKED)

Prompt: “We should probably leave, before we start a scandal.”)

Words: 1929

How you got here? Not a single fucking clue. But you were in your office at work, tongue practically down Jill’s throat as your hands grasped at her light blue top. Jill pulls her lips away from yours, gasping for a second of breath. You didn’t want to lose the contact so your lips found the skin of her jaw and latched onto that.

“We… we should probably leave. Before someone sees us and starts a scandal.” Jill manages to make out in between gasps and soft whines.

“What might that scandal be? The fact that you like women? You haven’t told anyone yet, have you?” You couldn’t help but tease her. You knew about Jill’s struggle with coming out and you never pushed her. But you did like to tease her about how you were her “little secret” for now.

“I just… ngh… fuck.” She was fighting back from making too much noise. And you loved it. She was squirming under your touch. Your hands find her thighs and pick her up to sit her on your desk, causing some papers to fall off and onto the floor. That was later you’s problem.

“Can’t even make out a sentence. I have barely done anything yet.” You chuckle as you kiss her neck and your hands slide up her thighs, the fabric of her jeans making your hands tingle just a bit as you rubbed it. “Tell me now if you want me to stop and I will.”

Jill couldn’t bring herself to though. She wanted this just as much as you. So she just reaches up, cupping your face in her hands and pressing her lips to yours. You can’t help but chuckle against her lips, knowing she actually likes the idea of someone catching her like this with you. The office was mostly empty at this hour so you had no worry that someone would catch you. But Jill was cautious.

You understood. She wasn’t out yet and she wanted to come out on her own terms. You’d never want to take that from her. You remember how nervous you were before you had come out.

Your lips move against hers with a passion you never had found with another person. Maybe it was the fact that your relationship was a secret and that's what caused it. But you believed it was more than that. In reality the way you felt for her as a whole was just so much more than you’d experienced in the past. Your hands move to her hips, fingers curling over the waist of her pants, sitting in between her hips and the fabric.

The back of your fingers brush over the fabric of her panties, sending goosebumps all over Jill’s body. You slide your hands across the waistband of her jeans until they reach the button at the front. Your teeth nip at her lower lip, earning a moan into your partially open mouth. Oh, how you loved those noises.

Your fingers fiddle with the button of her pants and pop it open, pulling her zipper down. The taste of her mouth fills yours as you slip your hand past the band of her panties and your middle and ring fingers find her bundle of nerves. She lets out a gasp and her hands grip at your shirt.

“Better make this quick if you don’t want to risk being caught.” You breathe out against her lips, barely pulling away to talk.

“No…” The whimper that escapes her lips makes you smirk.

“No, what?”

“Don’t rush it. Please.” Her plea struck something in her. Fuck that soft spot for her. You groan, knowing you would give in. You pull your hand out of her pants just to yank them down her legs as you push her to lay back on your desk. You close your eyes, thinking for a moment. You knew there were still some people working late at the office. You grunt as you stand up and grab one of the chairs in your office. You place it in front of the door, lodging it under the door handle before returning to Jill.

You crouch down and pull her boots off, dropping them on the floor before pulling her pants off the rest of the way. You kiss her ankle softly, earning a gentle gasp from the woman on your desk. You were fully prepared to give her a quickie here in your office. But now from a few simple words, you would take your time on her and pray to god no one in the office will need you at this hour.

Your lips leave a trail of kisses up her leg, savoring her soft skin under your touch. Jill shivered as she looked down at her lover in admiration. As you make your way up she reaches a hand out to caress the side of your face and a bit of your hair. You lean into her touch, closing your eyes and sighing in relief. She did this to you. Made you a soft mess. And you loved every second of it.

Your hand slowly trailed up her other leg, fingertips light on her skin. You reach her thigh and rub circles on her flesh with your thumb as you return to kissing your way up her leg. You pull her thighs apart and kiss her inner thigh, pushing her leg up as you do so. Her foot is placed flat on the desk in order to open her legs and allow you further access. Your lips latch at the flesh of her inner thigh and sucks at it, quickly leaving a dark mark on her skin.

You lean back to admire the way the hickey stood out against her thigh, you smirk a bit before your head leans against her thigh as you look up at her from in between her legs. Jill runs a hand through your hair as she meets your eyes. You let out a sigh that would absolutely give away the fact that she had you whipped. You knew it and she knew it.

You lean in, kissing her pussy over top of her wet panties. Jill loved every second of the worship you provided to her. You close your eyes as your nostrils flare at the smell of her right under you. It wasn’t strong but just enough to catch your attention and turn you on further.

Your hands move up to push her panties to the side, enough to lean in and drag your tongue along her wetness. Your eyes practically roll back as you taste her. She was like your addiction. Her hand grips at your hair as your tongue makes contact with her dripping cunt.

You are quick to reach your hands up and take hold of the sides of her panties, pulling them off and getting them out of the way. You take a hold of her leg and drape it over your shoulder, leaning forward as you let yourself bury your face in between her legs. The noise that greets your ears and spills from her lips encourages you. You suck on her swollen clit as your tongue flicks at it in a repetitive motion. Jill’s head falls back onto the desk as the room is filled up with her whines and whimpers from the attention you gave to her clit.

“Shush, you’ll get us caught.” You pull away just enough to breathe those words out before returning to pleasing her. Jill places her hand, that wasn’t tangled up in your hair, against her mouth as her hips buck against your face. One of your hands held her thigh, that rested on your shoulder, tightly. The other found its way up her stomach and under her top, fingers light over her skin as they find her waist.

Your hand holds her waist and fingers caress in an up and down motion as your mouth and nose are buried in her cunt. Jill couldn’t help as she moaned against her hand, knowing her covering her own mouth didn’t do much. Your senses were filled with her. Her taste, her smell, her sounds, the feeling of her. In this moment, you couldn’t care anymore who might know what was happening. She was the only thing that mattered.

Your mouth moves lower for just a moment, tongue slipping into her hole as it passes over her g-spot and is coated in her essence. You look up at her, admiring the way she squirmed. It was so easy to tell what she liked. Her body reacted beautifully. A moan breaks through your throat, sending vibrations against Jill which only makes her moaning increase in sound. A slight smirk tugs at the corner of your lips as you return your attention on her clit.

Not once did your eyes leave her. You followed the outline of her jaw as her head was tilted back. Occasionally you got a glimpse of the sides of her face as she squirmed around. Your pupils dilate as you stare up at your girlfriend while eating her pussy.

Each tug she made at your hair earned a moan against her clit as your tongue swirls and flicks at it. She must’ve liked the moaning so much by how she began to pull your hair over and over. You had no complaints, just obliged and moaned against her flesh as your mouth worked at pleasing her.

“Y/n!” She moans out from behind her hand as her back arches, even in her shirt you couldn’t help but admire how her tits sat so nicely on her chest. Granted she was wearing a bra, but even without one you had always loved how pretty her tits were. You could feel how her leg shuddered on top of your shoulder and under your hand. It made the grip on her thigh only tighten.

She was a moaning mess. Surely someone was hearing this. But you were practically drowning in her pussy and hadn’t a care in the world about what was happening past this desk. The longer this went on the messier it became. Her wetness was making a mess on my desk and you didn’t care. It showed how much she loved what you did to her. Your face was coated with her essence.

Finally her head lifts up, heavy eyes meeting yours. “I’m gonna… I-” She couldn’t even finish what she was trying to say. You didn’t need her to. Within seconds of her warning she is cumming on your face and your tongue is greedily lapping at her cunt, not wanting to waste this. Moans leave your lips as you savor the taste of her cum coating your tongue. Your nails softly dig against her thigh as she rides out her orgasm, grinding against your face as she does so.

Her body finally seems to deflate as she lets out heaving breaths. You slowly lower her leg from your shoulder as you lean back from her pussy, licking your lips. Jill took one look at you and her cheeks flushed even more red than they were from what you just did to her. Your nose, lips and chin were coated from her intense orgasm. You chuckle as you wipe your face and stand up, placing your hands on either side of her head. You hover over her and lean down, placing a gentle kiss to her lips that lasted a few seconds. You let out a chuckle before meeting her eyes.

“There definitely will be a scandal.”

Masterlist

#fanfic #fan fiction #resident evil #x reader #video games #resident evil 3 #re3make #re3 remake #re3 jill #resident evil 3 remake #jill valentine x reader #jill valentine #jill valentine x you #jill valentine smut #x female reader #x fem!reader #x female y/n #jill valentine x female reader #lesbian #sapphic #wlw #wlw post #request #requests

[writingoddess1125]

Among the Red Lights

Zoro x FemReader

SADDNESS + ANGST

⚠️ Warnings: ⚠️ Angst, Sex Workers

Support me on Ko-Fi

Main Masterlist <<<

Amidst the vibrant chaos of the red light district, Zoro's sharp eyes scanned around for a bar not wanting to stray far from the group either- especially with Usopp so close to watch him.

The swordsman who wasn't amused at him and the crew needing to travel through the district of this particular village, however he didn't complain nor judge. Simply annoyed at it all- Mainly Sanji damn near drooling the whole time.

Glancing around, seeing if anything caught his eye he stopped mid step..

There sitting on the balcony of a Oiran was a women, he could see the red of the lanters bathing her form and how the moon haloed around her delicately painted face, he couldn't help but stare in awe. While a time in this district wasn't what he wanted, he could appreciate her. That was till more light hit her face and details began to be shown- his eyes narrowing as he stepped closer to the building.

Discerned the figure that stirred both recognition and warmth in his chest. There, dressed in the exquisite garments of a Oiran, was (Y/N) – an old acquaintance from a time when dreams were still untainted by the harsh realities of life. Remembering training with her in his youth and finding her skills as elegant and graceful as a dance.

As he approached, memories of shared laughter and innocence flooded Zoro's mind, contrasting sharply with the sight before him. Usopp went to stop him, till he saw his gaze up at the women on the brothel balcony.

"(Y/N)," he called out, his voice cutting through the lively ambiance, as if a spell was being broken at his words.

Her eyes painted in kohl and red met his, revealing a mix of surprise and a tirdness that hadn't been there before, having not heard her own true name in many years.

"Roronoa-san," (Y/N) acknowledged eyes widening at him being there, her voice carrying the weight of unspoken stories. The elegant attire adorned her, yet failed to conceal her form underneath with some Beri they were ment to be easy to peel off like paper- something that made Zoro's heart feel heavy and uneasy.

A heavy silence hung between them before Zoro mustered the courage to speak, his concern evident. "Is that really you? What happened to you?"

She sighed, a bittersweet smile playing on her lips. "Yes, it's me. Life took unexpected turns, and this is where I've ended up. It's not what I envisioned either." She admitted, looking down at herself from her seat on the balcony.

Zoro's gaze remained intense as his mind raced, "You don't have to live like this. Come down, we can find a different path – a better one."

(Y/N)'s eyes, a mix of gratitude and kindness, met his. "My choices led me here, Zoro. I appreciate your care, but.. it is far too late for me, my path I walk on my own even if it's different from what we once dreamed."

"Then we can buy your freedom" He argued, anger starting to build in his chest.

"My price is too much for any one man to Buy-" She continued but Zoro glared up at her, an anger he thought he had once grown out of coming out of him.

"What can they possibly have that makes you sell yourself!- staying in this hell hole and letting all those use you! You were a great swordswoman! Not some some-!" He yelled up at her, Waving around at the brothels that surrounded him.

"Prostitute?" She finished, watching the way he winced at her words.

(Y/N) smiling down at her robes sadly, messing with the fabric of her dress for a moment. "My child Zoro.. They have my child"

Silence filled the air after that, Zoro looking to the side as the weight of her words settled on his frame.

"Your?-.. Child?"

She nodded softly at his confirming words, taking a heavy breath.

"He was sick... Sick with a illness no one could afford.. So I did everything I could to afford it. So now, this is now I pay my debt. This is but a small price, for his life"

Zoro stared at the ground he stood on. His head bowed in shame at his anger towards her-

"I understand..." Zoro said softly, looking away from her in saddness. (Y/N) giving a sad smile, before reaching around her neck to pull something from her necklace.

"Here-"

Plucking one of the last remaining fragments from a life she once desired. She tossed it down to him, his hands quick to catch it- Staring down at the small gold pendant, he recognized it well. It was the symbol of the Dojo they had grown up in, it was gifted to each of them on their 12th birthdays.

"Bring it with you Zoro... So a small peice of me may explore and experience the adventures I dreamed of with you"

The swordman nodded at her, clutching the pendant close to his chest as he stared up at her form basking in the moonlight.

"I refuse to forget you.. I'll come back one day to rescue. So we can explore this world together"

Zoro declaired as he backed away, Usopp who had witnessed it all leading the swordsman away from (Y/N) who looked up to the moon the last bit of freedom in her life as tears rolled down her painted cheeks.

"Mourn me instead.. For I truly died long ago and there is nothing left to rescue except my legacy"

#x reader #one piece #one peice x reader #one peice live action #ronoroa zoro #zoro x reader #one piece zoro #roronoa zoro #zoro #one piece angst #zoro angst #depressing shit #zoro roronoa x reader

[chiriwritesstuff]

Hometown Glory; 1. Back to the Old House

Series Masterlist

Chapter Rating: M

Chapter Summary: Glory and Frankie, two best friends from a small town in Texas, find themselves in different places as adults. They haven't spoken in years, yet find themselves being drawn back home, searching for... something they can't quite explain. Will they be able to find their purpose back to where it all began?

Chapter Warnings and Tags: Strong language, Frankie is going through it, Someone decides it's a good idea to dip in the middle of the night, Sexism in the workplace, Unstable family dynamics.

Word Count: 8k

1995 (16 years old)

It's a school night on a random Wednesday, and you're perched cross-legged in a boy's room, a bowl of popcorn resting precariously on your lap. With a mischievous grin, you snatch the remote control from said boy, clicking it over to NBC as he groans in annoyance.

"Hey! What the hell!" he grumbles in annoyance, "Don't you know it's rude to just take a man's remote?"

"It's my night, remember?" you remind him playfully. "There's a new episode of Law and Order, and I'm dying to find out what happened with Claire!"

"Ugh, not another Drama show, that's the kind of shit my Dad watches," he drawls from above, his arm snaking around your shoulder as he reaches for a handful of popcorn. "I would rather watch something cool, like Party of Five."

You roll your eyes at his protest, a playful smirk dancing on your lips. "Come on, Frankie, let's be real here. We both know the only reason you want to watch it is because you have a huge crush on Neve Campbell," you tease, nudging him lightly with your elbow. "But remember, we made a deal, Frankie baby. Wednesdays are my night!"

Frankie flops back onto his bed, his arms crossed over his chest in a mock pout. "Fine, but I reserve the right to complain the entire time," he declares, a faint smile on his lips. "I mean, at least Claire is kinda hot-"

You playfully toss a piece of popcorn at your best friend. "Anyway, remember when we had to write that paper in Mrs. Miller's class? About what we wanted to be when we grew up?" You lean in closer, your eyes fixed on Jill Hennessy as she paces the courtroom on the screen. "Well, I wrote that I wanted to be just like Claire," you share, taking a sip of Pepsi.

"What, like a lawyer?"

"No, like an actress. Of course like a lawyer!" you exclaim. "I mean, I love to argue-"

"Not correcting you there-"

"... and, it's like, so grown up, right? She looks like someone who has her shit together, but still. I can see myself doing that!"

Frankie groans as he props himself up on his elbows, his warm breath tickling your ear. "I can totally see you doing that," he says with a chuckle, his voice close to your ear. "But hey, you're good at everything you set your mind to, Bella."

"Aw, Frankie... is that a compliment I hear? maybe I should check outside and see if any pigs are flying-"

"Very funny," he scoffs, joining you on the floor and reaching for the bowl of popcorn. "You know you're smart as hell, so I don't doubt that you can do it."

"What about you?" you ask, nudging his shoulder playfully.

"What about me?" he responds, his shoulder bumping against yours. "What do I want to be when I grow up? That's easy. I want to be a pilot."

"So, like... the military, then? Flying Black Hawks and getting everyone to safety? I always knew you had a hero complex," you tease, nudging him again.

Frankie grins, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "Yeah, something like that," he says, his voice full of wonder. "I've always wanted to serve my country, you know? And being a pilot in the military seems like the perfect way to do it. Plus, I get to carry a gun," he adds with a smirk. "Chicks dig that, you know?"

"Chicks? Frankie, I love you, but for the love of everything holy, please don't refer to women as "chicks", it's degrading-"

"Some chicks like to be degraded," he quips, cocking his head. "At least that's what the guys say in the locker room."

"Not me though," you muse, resting your head on his shoulder as he settles himself against you more, placing his arm around your shoulder. "I guess that makes me not like other girls, huh?"

You feel the slight rumble of his chest as he chuckles.

You swear you feel the ghost of his lips on your temple.

Frankie leans in, his breath warm against your ear. "No, Glory," he whispers. "You're so much more than most girls."

29 years later.

"Excuse me, I think I heard you wrong."

"No, you didn't," you retort firmly, eyeing the hefty stack of papers across from you, addressing the group of men- the partners and board members of the firm you decided to spend the last ten years of your life at seated before you. Settling back into the plush leather chair, you cross your legs with an air of confidence. "While I appreciate your acknowledgment of my ten years of hard work and the countless cases won," you pause for emphasis, casually inspecting your nails before meeting their gaze head-on, "...if it weren't for a stupid technicality, I'd be hailed as the first female lawyer in the entire state of New York with a flawless record, right?"

"Indeed, we recognize your almost-stellar track record," Nigel, the lead partner of your firm continues, glossing over your achievements like you expected, chuckling as he adjusts his suit collar. "That's precisely why we believe it's the perfect time to bring you on as a junior partner. We think you're ready."

"Junior Partner?" you echo, incredulous, your tone laced with a mixture of frustration and disbelief. "After all these years of fighting tooth and nail against men who were promoted with far less experience, after winning case after case and saving these assholes millions of dollars in alimony payments, I'm still only good enough to become a Junior Partner? Please. Please tell me you're joking." You lean forward, fixing them with a pointed stare, the intensity of your gaze daring them to justify their belated recognition.

The ten men in question, a mix of balding, beady-eyed partners and sharply dressed greying board members shift uncomfortably in their seats. The rustle of their tailored Armani suits rubbing against one another fills the room with a grating sound akin to nails on a chalkboard.

"It took me a decade to even get offered Junior Partner. How many more years until I'm considered for a full Partnership? Another decade?" you ask, your impatience seeping into each word.

"Is there something amiss?" another member of the board interjects, gesturing towards the stack of papers on the table once more. "We don't often extend promotions like this, especially to someone as green as yourself... or any woman, for that matter," he adds with a cough, a smirk playing on his lips as if he's cracked a clever joke. "Most would consider it a gift, wouldn't you agree?"

"I appreciate the offer, truly," you interject, "but I believe my worth exceeds what you're offering." Each word resonates with a sense of determination, a testament to the challenges you've overcome and the achievements you've earned in your career.

With a flick of your wrist, you push the stack of papers back across the conference table, the pages dancing in the air as the men across from you watch in disbelief. The gravity of your decision hangs heavy in the room. "I'm done," you announce firmly, the weight of your words echoing in the silence that follows.

The room fills with gasps as another suit interjects, his face flushed with anger. "I beg your pardon?!" he exclaims. "This isn't a negotiation, and it's a fair offer for someone of your talents," he spits.

You fix him with a steely gaze. "Tell me, Bill-" you retort sharply, "who's the most sought-after associate in this firm? Why do I have gold-digging socialites, cheating tech bros, and trigger-happy celebrities clamoring for a meeting with me at the front desk? Whose face is it on the news when the courts decide to rule in our favor? Certainly, it isn't any of you, that's for damn sure."

Gone is the girl from the small town off the outskirts of Austin, Texas- a former homecoming queen slash magna cum laude loved and cherished by a town that seemed so minuscule compared to the vastness and hunger of your ambition.

You were both a dreamer and a doer, tirelessly working and amassing scholarship after scholarship, grant after grant. Your sights were set on one school only: Yale. You believed that if you couldn't make it there from the start, settling for anything less wasn't an option.

"I'm gonna be like that when I grow up," you declared, flopping onto the lumpy couch as reruns of Law and Order played in the background. Your Nana, her tight, white curls peeking out from the worn brown fabric of her La-Z-Boy, glanced at you with mild curiosity.

"Be like what?" she would reply absentmindedly, her voice raspy from the years of Misty's holding constant residence at the corner of her lips. "Like an actor? Like Jill Hennessy? She's a looker, that one!"

"No, like a Lawyer," you would tease, your eyes locked onto Claire Kincaid as she takes the stand, her sneer icy, her voice strong and confident as she calmly verbally eviscerates yet another rapist, this time one of the shaky-ijustwantedtosmellher-variety, shaking like a leaf as they undergo cross-examination. "She's so fucking cool," you would whisper to yourself, the loud chuckle-cough-chuckle of your Nana as she peers at you from the corner of her eye.

"... but you're such a sweet girl!" she would retort, "how are you gonna win the case when you're so damn nice all the time? those suits would eat you alive, believe you me!"

Your voice rises steadily, like a crescendo building to a climax, until you're finally shouting. All the hurt and embarrassment you've bottled up explodes, coursing through your veins like an unstable chemical reaction. "The reason we're all still in business is because of me!" you declare, your words punctuated by frustration. "Or should I ask Bill in finance for confirmation? Maybe he's mistaken." You unclench your jaw, feeling the tension in your neck as you reach for your phone. "All those high-profile clients? They're loyal to me. If I leave, they'll follow. Think about that."

As the partners exchange bewildered looks, Nigel's discomfort is palpable as he clears his throat. "But... where will you go?" he stammers. "How do you expect to thrive in this industry without the support of a prestigious firm like ours? Besides, no one just turns their nose up at a salary increase of a hundred thousand dollars-"

"Okay, got it. So this isn't a negotiation, and there's no room for reconsideration?" You glance around the room, meeting each of their downturned gazes. Leaning back in your chair, a smirk plays at the corners of your lips as you hold their gaze.

"Oh, don't worry about me," you retort, rolling your eyes slightly. "You don't have to concern yourselves with my well-being. After all, you haven't given a damn about it throughout my entire career here, have you?"

A ripple of anxious laughter echoes through the room, mingled with the partners' disbelief at your audacity. "And just where do you plan to go?" Nigel presses.

With a knowing smile, you rise from your seat, gathering your belongings with a newfound sense of purpose. "Back to where I belong, I suppose," you declare. "Home."

You give the group of men one last nod, your expression firm. "Thank you for the offer, but I don't think this is going to work out," you say, your tone resolute. "And frankly, I've had enough of playing by your rules."

With a final flick of your hair, pin-straight and glossy like Jill, you stride out of the conference room, leaving behind the stifling atmosphere of the sleazy-suited assholes, their mouths agape, completely stunned. As the door clicks shut, you feel a sense of liberation wash over you, like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders.

Good fucking riddance, you think to yourself, walking past your colleagues, their heads bobbing up curiously from their cubicles as they watch you march away. You laugh to yourself at the sight of it, your head held high in defiance. Today marks the beginning of a new journey, one where you refuse to let others dictate your worth or your future.

Back in your corner office, tucked away at the back of the building- a spot they seemed to think was where you belonged, far away from the big boys club, you're surrounded by the familiar trappings of your professional life. The cardboard box on your desk awaits its contents – the remnants of a career spent in a firm that never fully appreciated your efforts, despite your unwavering dedication and the millions of dollars earned in your wake.

Shaking off the sting of humiliation and blinking back the tears of frustration threatening to spill, you begin the task of packing up your belongings. Your framed Juris Doctor is tossed in haphazardly, followed by a flurry of other items scattered across the surface of the box. Three framed photos: two girls, with wide smiles and pigtails, an old woman standing on the porch of a decaying home, and a group of like-looking women, the bright smiles and the promise of the endless possibility of the future in their eyes. Gone is the meticulously styled hair, now hastily tied up in a messy bun as you delve into the depths of your desk drawer. You pull out items in a flurry, tossing them into the box until your fingers come across something unfamiliar, hidden at the very back of the drawer.

Your fingers brush against something soft, and you pull out a faded friendship bracelet. Its beads are strung together to spell out a name you haven't seen in years. The memories flood back, threatening to overwhelm you as you stare at the name engraved on the bracelet.

F-R-A-N-

In an instant, you're transported back to a moment etched deep in the recesses of your mind: small hands trembling as they offer the bracelet to yours, the earnest gaze of a young boy not much taller than you. A tentative smile graces his lips as he extends the friendship offering. "You gave me yours, so I'm giving you mine... that means we're friends, right?"

You accept the bracelet with shaky hands, feeling a warmth spread through you. You smile back at the boy in front of you, his smile widening to match yours. "Right. Best friends!"

A pang of regret washes over you, mingling with a bittersweet sense of nostalgia for the friendship that once meant so much to you. With a heavy heart, you carefully place the bracelet into the box, a silent reminder of the past you've left behind.

Two Weeks later (somewhere in between New York and Texas)

"Okay, let me get this straight. They finally offer you a promotion, and that's when you decide it's the perfect time to quit? Seriously, Glory, please explain that logic to me," your sister's voice crackles through the car speakers as you navigate down the coast, taking another sip of your coffee to steel yourself for the conversation. "I'm begging you, please make it make sense. If management told me I needed to shake my ass to get a wage increase, I would say when and where. Surely, a hundred thousand dollars is a decent offer-"

"Yeah, they dangled a hundred thousand dollar salary bump in front of me, but it's not just about the money," you reply, frustration evident in your voice. "They were going to make me a Junior Partner. Junior. It's like they're saying, 'Hey Glory, you're good, but you're not quite good enough to sit at the big kids' table yet. Maybe in another decade or two, you'll get there.'"

"So what's the plan, then? You're just gonna pack up your office, leave your fancy Upper East Side condo behind, toss your shit in a U-Haul, and hightail it back to Nowheresville, USA? You're seriously going to start your firm in a place you swore up and down and to the heavens above that you'd never return to?" Your sister's incredulous voice echoes through the phone as you navigate the winding roads back to your hometown. "As much as the kids and I would love for you to finally be around, shouldn't you be aiming a bit higher than Fredericksburg? There's nothing here-"

You bite the inside of your cheek, the sharp pain making you wince as the metallic taste of blood fills your mouth. Relax, you tell yourself. She's right. You should be aiming higher.

"And don't even get me started on that rundown old house that Nana used to live in. Seriously, Glo, you're going to live in that dump? I wouldn't touch that place with a ten-foot pole, let alone live in it. It's a fucking money pit! You'll lose more money than what it's worth!" she snarks, chuckling to herself. "I know that it was all fun and games, talking about how you were gonna fix up that place, make it your forever home, but that was when we were kids! That place barely has a functioning roof!"

"Well, you must read minds, then." you retort dryly. "Sister, I think that you should think about becoming a psychic, because how did you know?" you sing-song back. "Besides, don't you have a guest room in that place of yours? I remember you asking me very nicely to help you out with the reno you did a few years back as a wedding gift, doesn't that mean that the room is mine if I ever needed it?"

There's a weird, awkward silence that suddenly fills the cab of the U-Haul, and you swear you can hear the gears turning in your sister's brain as she processes the implications of your words, holding your breath as you can feel the wrath that is sure to follow next. You appreciate how predictable your sister always was, knowing damn well that if you had told her that you were actually telling her the truth about your plans on returning home, she would try with every fiber of her being to convince you not to.

"There's nothing here for you, Glory. Nothing but heartbreak and the skeletons that have gathered dust in your bedroom closet. You've always been better than this little old town..." You remember her drunkenly telling you over FaceTime as you down your third glass of Pinot Grigio, your eyes fixed on the blue light radiating from the screen of your MacBook.

Congratulations, the email read. The buyer has accepted your terms, and is expected to move in shortly-

"No, Glo-" she starts.

"The condo sold for over market value-" you offer, a thinly-veiled attempt to try to reason with her.

"Wait. Are you fucking telling me that you're in a U-Haul driving back home? and you're only telling me this now when I haven't even had time to clean out the guest room?! You know how I get when things are left to the last minute-"

"Relax, I'm not going to crash at your house, not when Andrew doesn't know, I've already booked a month at the Hyatt in Austin while I square away the final plans for the house. Think of it this way, if you ever need a place to stay after another one of your husband's benders, you could always sneak away to the hotel room, now that I'll finally be close by. Plus, Hank told me that there's a vacant storefront on Main Street, It's a perfect spot to open the firm-"

"It's just..." Your sister's voice trails off, her chuckle sounding forced. "You always seem to have impeccable timing." There's an odd tension in her tone, a hint of something unsaid lingering between you.

"Impeccable timing, huh?" you prod, sensing there's more to her words than she's letting on.

But before you can dig deeper, she interrupts with a hurried excuse. "Hey, I'd love to chat more, but I've got to run. We'll catch up later, okay? Call me when you get to the hotel, we can grab lunch or something with the kids-"

"Hey, what did you mean about impeccable timing?" you press curiously.

"I gotta go love you byeeee-" she says hurriedly, cutting the phone call.

You're left staring at your phone, a gnawing sense of confusion settling in your gut. Something about her sudden evasiveness doesn't sit right with you, but you push it aside for now, focusing on the road ahead as you continue your journey back home. "Love you too, I guess."

You continue to drive throughout the night, the 26 or so hours that the GPS has estimated your trip to be, refusing to stop for anything other than gas and the occasional bathroom pit stop, grabbing yourself a Buc-ees t-shirt for shits and giggles to commemorate your arrival, breathing a sigh of relief as you eye the “Welcome to Texas!” Sign out in the distance, its surface illuminated by the purple skies of early morning.

"Not much longer," you reassure yourself as you nibble on a sad-looking fruit bowl and sip lukewarm water in the Buc-ee's parking lot. Between bites, you check the time on your phone, swiping away the occasional concerned email from your former associates at the firm.

You raise your phone, capturing the Buc-ee's sign in the distance with your camera app. The empty parking lot reflects the loneliness that has become all too familiar in your adult life.

It's not like I meant for it to be this way, you muse silently, drafting a caption for the photo. "Homeward bound, just a few more hours!" You type out as you hit upload, sharing the moment on your Instagram feed.

As you enter the city limits of the small town you once called home on the way to the Hyatt, you can’t help the wave of nostalgia that suddenly washes over you. You can't help but smile as you pass by familiar landmarks – the public library where you would spend countless hours buried in books, the little Italian place with your favorite lasagna, still in the corner where all of the birthday dinners would be held, the bustling mall, still bursting at the seams with teenagers and young families alike, a place where you and your best friend used to gossip about boys and clothes and how much you hated Mr. Frankel constantly staring at your tits over scoops and cones of ice cream, the shrillness of your combined laughter ringing throughout your ears.

Ex-best friend, you remind yourself bitterly, your knuckles turning white as you clutch the steering wheel. It's a bitter pill to swallow, knowing that the one person you would never think would betray you ending up with the guy you once harbored feelings for. The guy. They probably have a picture-perfect life now, living in some military town with a gaggle of kids, the sound of their laughter echoing in your mind like a haunting melody.

As you drive through the familiar streets of your hometown, memories of you and him start to slowly flood back into your consciousness – lazy afternoons spent together, whispered secrets shared under the shade of a tree. But now, those memories are tainted with a bittersweet ache, a reminder of what once was and what could have been.

You can almost see him now, running around the backyard with their children, his laughter mingling with theirs as they play. The image is both heartwarming and heartbreaking, a painful reminder of the love you lost and the friendship that slipped through your fingers.

With a heavy sigh, you tear your gaze away from the fleeting fantasy, focusing instead on the road ahead. It's time to move forward, to let go of the past, and embrace the uncertainty of the future. But as you drive away, a part of you can't help but wonder – what if things had been different?

As you navigate the winding streets, you can't help but feel a sense of belonging wash over you. This may not have been the life you planned, but somehow, returning to your roots feels like coming home in more ways than one.

After a few more hours of driving, you finally pull up to the Hyatt, grateful for the chance to stretch your legs and unload your belongings. The luxurious lobby offers a stark contrast to the worn-out upholstery of your car seat. With a sigh of relief, you drop off your bags in your room before heading back out onto the road.

As you pull up to your Nana's old place, you can't help but feel a pang of nostalgia mixed with apprehension. The once-charming house now stands in complete disrepair, its paint peeling and windows boarded up. Standing outside the weathered front door, you can't help but shake your head.

"Welcome home, Glory," you mutter to yourself, the words carrying both resignation and determination. With a deep breath, you unlock the door and step inside, ready to face whatever challenges lie ahead.

Frankie, two weeks before your arrival.

Frankie forgot how fucking hot it was in Texas.

With a heavy sigh, he turns off the ignition of his truck and gazes at the house he hasn't seen in the last few years. The weathered paint job catches his eye, the deep cracks spiderwebbing across the exterior walls. Once-bright white has faded to a tired tan, and a single bright blue shutter still hangs slightly askew from his bedroom window.

"Shit Frankie, do you think your pop is gonna kill me for that?" The voice seeps into his thoughts, unbidden. He shuts his eyes tight, battling against the memories he's long kept buried deep in the recesses of his brain.

His ears catch the familiar sound of tinkering echoing from the depths of the carport beside the house, still cluttered with dismantled shells and rusty car parts. He recognizes the soft grunts of his father as he works on yet another car he decided to fiddle with probably after spotting it abandoned on the roadside.

I've been gone for more than twenty years, and yet, it feels like nothing has changed, he muses to himself, shaking his head in disbelief.

Frankie lets out a groan as he swings open his car door. His legs feel like lead, knees protesting from the strain of hours spent behind the wheel. He's just made the long haul from his actual home in Florida, leaving behind his daughter and the life he's built there for the last fifteen or so years.

Or tried to, at least.

The notion of divorce loomed over Frankie's thoughts like a persistent shadow, coloring every interaction with his wife. Even in the mundane moments of their daily life, he couldn't shake the feeling of their impending separation. It was as if they were constantly tiptoeing along the edge of a cliff, one wrong step away from falling into the abyss of divorce.

He found himself distancing emotionally, a subconscious defense mechanism against the possibility of heartache. Small disagreements turned into major rifts, each argument fueling the belief that their marriage was irreparable. He couldn't help but imagine a life without Chelsea, even as they sat across from each other at the dinner table or shared a quiet moment on the couch.

The weight of his doubts pressed down on him, clouding his perception of their relationship. Frankie had never truly loved his wife; their relationship was born more out of convenience and familiarity than genuine affection. He often wondered if Chelsea sensed his lack of affection, if she felt the absence of passion and connection that should have been the foundation of their marriage.

Guilt gnawed at him, knowing that he had never given Chelsea the love she deserved. He had entered into their marriage with a sense of obligation rather than devotion, and now he was trapped in a cycle of discontent and disillusionment. Divorce had become more than a possibility; it had become a constant companion, lurking in the shadows of their marriage.

Fuck. She never stood a fucking chance.

So, with a heavy heart and a mind full of fucking turmoil, he'd packed up his car and hit the road, effectively abandoning his wife and kid like a fucking coward, driving with no destination in mind until he found himself back in the town where it all began.

Frankie's chest tightens at the memory of Lily's desperate pleas, her small face etched with fear as she begs him not to leave. He had thought he was being discreet, tiptoeing past her room, his rucksack slung across his back. Pausing in the dim light, he takes a long look at his daughter, knowing he might not see her again for some time. "I love you, baby girl," he whispers, his voice barely audible as he gently closes her door, the click echoing in the quiet hallway.

He pushes open the door leading to the garage, grateful that he had the foresight to leave the garage door open earlier in the evening. It was a calculated move, part of his plan to make a quiet exit from this house that never felt like a home. He had thought about his grand escape throughout dinner that night, opting to remain silent as he tuned Chelsea out, her words of her displeasure falling on deaf ears as he nodded in agreement, cutting into his meatloaf as he slouches himself down his chair.

Lousy, lazy husband. Neglectful and absent father. The biggest disappointment and regret of her fucking life. Coward. Fucking Coward.

Ah, there it was.

I bet you wish that it was her, huh? I bet you wish that it was her pussy that you were fucking instead of mine, right Frankie? Chelsea would accuse, her hand motioning for him to pass over the mashed potatoes in the same breath.

Hell. She isn't wrong.

He thought his plan was about to unfold smoothly, exhaling a sigh of relief as he set his rucksack in the bed of his truck. Then, he heard it—the unmistakable creak of a door opening, followed by the soft padding of feet on concrete, drawing closer from behind. With a heavy heart, he closed his eyes, bracing himself for the pain he knew was coming.

"Daddy?" his daughter's sleepy voice broke the silence of the darkened garage. "Where are you going?"

Frankie's heart sank at the sound of Lily's voice, her innocent question piercing through his resolve like a knife. He turned around slowly, his eyes meeting hers in the dim light filtering through the garage.

"Lil, sweetheart," he began, his voice catching in his throat as he struggled to find the right words. "I... I have to go away for a little while." His chest tightened with every word, the weight of his decision heavy on his shoulders.

"Why?" Lily's voice trembled with confusion and fear, her small frame shivering in the cool air of the garage. She took a hesitant step closer, her eyes searching his face for answers.

Frankie knelt down in front of her, his heart breaking at the sight of her tear-filled eyes. "It's... it's complicated, baby," he said softly, reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair away from her face. "But I promise, I'll come back for you. I love you so much, Lily. You're my everything."

Lily threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder as she sobbed. "Please don't go, Daddy," she pleaded, her words muffled against his shirt. "I need you."

Tears pricked at Frankie's eyes as he held his daughter close, his own heart breaking with every second that passed. But he knew he had to go, for both of their sakes. With a heavy heart, he gently pulled away from Lily's embrace, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"I'll always be with you, sweetheart," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I promise. I'll come back for you, but you have to stay with Mommy for now, okay? I swear I'll come back for you."

As he stood up and turned away, leaving Lily behind in the garage, Frankie couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that weighed on him like a lead weight. But deep down, he knew that he had to do this—to find a way to be the father Lily deserved, even if it meant breaking both of their hearts in the process.

His throat tightens as he relives that moment, the memory etched vividly in his mind like a relentless nightmare. He can still see Lily's tear-stained face, her eyes pleading with him not to leave, her small hands reaching out for him as he walked away, the way her small form looks back at him as he looks at his rearview mirror, getting smaller and smaller as he drives out of the cul-de-sac like a fucking coward. The weight of her despair presses down on him like a vice, suffocating him with guilt and remorse.

Frankie silently makes his way over to the carport, his father's familiar silhouette outlined against the fading sunlight. He watches as his dad tinkers away, lost in his own world of gears and grease. With a smirk playing on his lips, Frankie leans against the doorframe, soaking in the scene before him.

"When I left, I was saying goodbye to a pair of feet under a fender, and I come home years later and it's like you haven't moved an inch," Frankie quips, his tone laced with affection and a hint of disbelief. "Are you sure you ain't dead under there, old man?"

His dad chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound that fills the air. "Nah, still kicking, just like always," he replies, not bothering to look up from his work. "You, on the other hand, look like you could use a good night's sleep."

Frankie rolls his eyes, but there's a warmth in his chest at the familiar banter. Despite everything that's changed, some things remain constant – like the easy camaraderie between a father and son, even after years apart.

Frankie's dad finally emerges from under the car, wiping his hands on a greasy rag as he beams at his son. "Well, well, look who's finally back home, a child of mine finally appears!" he says with a grin, opening his arms for a hug.

Frankie steps forward, enveloped in his dad's embrace, the familiar scent of motor oil and sawdust washing over him. "I'm your only child, Dad, or did you forget?" he teases, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

His dad chuckles, patting Frankie on the back. "No, son, I didn't forget," he replies with a twinkle in his eye. "But you always knew who my favorite was."

Frankie nods solemnly, his eyes squinting in the distance, not wanting his mind to go there. He clicks his tongue. "So-"

"I assume that your sudden appearance has something to do with that wife of yours screaming into my voicemail about you abandoning your family in the middle of the night?" his dad asks, a hint of concern lacing his words as he studies Frankie's expression.

Frankie lets out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping as he meets his father's gaze. "Yeah, Pop," he admits, running a hand through his hair. "Things with Chelsea... they haven't been working for a while now. I couldn't stay there anymore. I had to get out."

His father's expression softens, concern etched into his features. "And what about Lily? How's she taking it?" he inquires, his voice laced with worry as he thinks of his granddaughter.

"Yeah, she was torn up about it," he admits, his voice heavy with sorrow. "But I couldn't just take her. Chels would accuse me of kidnapping, and you know how the courts always side with the mother. I can't risk getting arrested again. Not after what happened last time."

"Well, that seems about something she would do, I guess," his father surmises, "... but what the hell are you doin' back here? I swore the last time I saw you, you told me you would never step your foot back here, especially with what happened with Glory-"

Frankie cuts him off, his jaw tensing as he steels himself against the memories threatening to resurface. "Look, Dad, let's not go there, okay? It's been years, and I've moved on, she's moved on," he says, his tone firm. "I'm just here to figure things out, clear my head. I don't need to worry bout no skeletons in my fucking closet, especially when I know for a fact that she ain't here no more to spook me."

Frankie's dad pauses, his gaze distant for a moment before he speaks again. "You know, son, I always loved her like my own," he says quietly, his voice tinged with regret. "She was like family to us, and seeing her leave was one of the hardest things I've had to witness. It broke my heart, and I know for a fact that it broke yours, too. Maybe if she had stayed... you wouldn't be here standing on my front lawn, hiding from your wife."

Frankie's chest tightens at his father's admission, a pang of guilt gnawing at him for the pain he caused. "I know, Pop," he replies softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I wish things had turned out differently."

"Yeah, well... shit happens, I guess." His father slaps his hand on his shoulder once more, motioning towards the house. "Come on, I got a pot of Chili that’s been simmering for the last few hours, I reckon it should be ready right about now. Go grab your shit and come help me set the table after you get settled, alright?"

Frankie nods, giving his father one last smile as he makes his way back to his pickup truck, slinging his military-grade duffle over his shoulder. Groaning, he makes his way up to the old house, the floorboards of the patio creaking as he opens the front door, the smell of his father's chili wafting in the air. He takes in the familiar sight of his living room, still the same as he left it all the years ago.

The same lumpy couch, the imprint of his father forever immortalized in his spot where he watches reruns of Pawn Stars and Columbo, greeted Frankie as he stepped into the living room. The faded fabric sagged under his weight as he lowered himself onto it, memories flooding back with each creak of the worn-out springs.

As Frankie's gaze shifted to the mantle, he couldn't help but notice the familiar photos arranged there. His eyes lingered on the one of him and his mother, her radiant smile captured forever in the frame. Beside it was a picture of you and Frankie as kids, arms wrapped around each other in a tight embrace, the innocence of youth reflected in your beaming faces.

Frankie's breath caught in his throat as he noticed a new addition to the mantle – a photo of you and his father in front of the Christmas Tree at Rockefeller Center. His father's arms were proudly slung around your shoulders, and both of you wore wide smiles that reached your eyes. It was a moment frozen in time, capturing a bond that had evidently formed in his absence.

"Well, what are you doing just sittin' there? Table ain't gonna set itself."

Frankie rolls his eyes at that. Yep, shit hasn't changed a bit. "Placemats still in the same drawer?"

"Unless someone moved them, which I highly doubt, being that it's just been me in this house for the last fifteen years," his father replies with a weary sigh, retrieving a steaming casserole dish from the oven and setting it on the stove. "Made some of that cornbread you like so much too," he adds with a wink. "Your Mama's recipe, not that boxed shit."

As they arrange the table settings, Frankie's father casts a cautious glance at him, a hint of concern in his eyes. "So, besides your marriage, How's everything going, son?"

Frankie lets out a heavy sigh, his shoulders sagging as he carefully places the silverware beside each plate. "Could be better, Dad. Could be a lot better."

His father's expression softens with understanding. "I heard about what happened. You doing okay?"

Frankie nods, though the weight of his recent troubles still hangs heavily on him. "Yeah, I'm managing. Just trying to figure things out."

His father places a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You know, son, we all make mistakes. What's important is how we learn from them and move forward."

Frankie meets his father's gaze. "Thanks, Dad. I appreciate it."

His father's fork hovers awkwardly over his plate, his gaze fixed on the food as if it holds the answers to questions he dare not ask. "Dig in, for fucks sake. Don't let it get cold."

Frankie senses an opportunity to steer the conversation elsewhere, away from the awkwardness. "Hey, Pop," he begins, trying to sound nonchalant, "I couldn't help but notice that photo on the mantle. Is it new?"

His father pauses, then looks at him, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before he answers, "The one from New York? Yeah, it's recent."

"How recent?" Frankie probes further, his curiosity piqued.

His dad casually tears off a piece of cornbread and dips it into his chili, shrugging. "About three months ago," he replies, his tone casual. "Why do you ask?"

"I'm just surprised, that's all," Frankie says with what he hopes is casual, stabbing his spoon into his bowl, pushing the pieces of beans and corn around, refusing to make eye contact with his father who is surely gazing back at him with the quirk of his brow. "Wasn't aware that the both of you were still close," he mumbles, the sight of your bright wide smile feeling like death by a thousand cuts straight into his jugular. “Never thought that you would actually leave this fucking place, let alone go to New fucking York.”

"Well, we haven't stopped being close, son. Did you know that she sends me a bottle of tequila every year on my birthday? Noticed the difference in quality as the years gone by, she's doing quite alright up there in the big 'ol apple." Frankie hears his father make a noncommital snort as he continues to eat. “Besides, she asked me to visit her the last time she was in town, and I ain’t getting any younger, have to enjoy life somehow, right?”

You still remembered his father's birthday. Do you still remember his? he wonders silently.

He strains his eye at the label of said tequila bottle, near the center of the dinner table. José Cuervo 250 Aniversario. Twenty-one hundred off the shelf, easy. A soft snort escapes his lips, shaking his head. Well, at least you still remembered your shit.

"You know, she's one of those lawyers that deal with family stuff," his father muses, chuckling to himself as he gets that gleam in his eye when he realizes he has a (stupid, but convenient idea). "Maybe you should-"

“No.”

“I could even be the one to call her, I know she won’t say no to me-“

“Pop-“

“She’s still single, you know.”

“I don’t know what her being single has to do anything with my divorce-“

“She never really got into anything serious, at least she never told me… but I knew. She was too busy for it, you know? Too distracted. Told her she should stop playing ball with the boys and start her own firm back here."

Frankie's father continued, a wistful tone creeping into his voice as he reminisced. "She always had that fire in her, just like her grandma. I remember when she was just a kid, always standing up for what she believed in, never backing down from a challenge. That girl could argue her way out of anything."

Frankie listened quietly, his mind racing with memories of Glory's fierce determination. Despite their differences, he couldn't deny the admiration he held for her unwavering spirit.

"Yeah, well, she's probably forgotten all about this place," Frankie muttered dismissively, though a small part of him hoped it wasn't true.

His father's gaze softened, a hint of sadness flickering in his eyes.

"Maybe. But some things, some people, they never really leave you, no matter how far you go."

"Why settle for Fredericksburg when she's killing it up there?" Frankie says bitterly, his frustration palpable. "She's made it clear that there is nothing for her here besides her sister, and her Nana has been gone for a while now. This place is a shithole, honestly."

"If it's such a shithole, then why the fuck are you here then?" his father challenges, his irritation evident as he stabs his salad with more force than necessary. "It might not be fancy like New York or as interesting as Tampa, but it's your home, son. It's her home, too."

"Well, I'm glad to know that you still gave a damn about somebody after all these years," Frankie retorts quietly. "... and here I thought I was your actual child-"

"What do you want me to say, huh? I feel like you're trying to insinuate something here, son, so just be a fucking man for once and spit it out!"

"Why didn't you visit me, huh? If you had so much time on your hands, why her and not me?"

"What, so I could bear witness to the shitshow that's your marriage? Do you think I like watching you suffer?" his father shouts, slamming his fork on the table. "Your wife can barely stand being in the same room as me! I ain't gonna waste my time spending it with people who clearly don't want me there."

"Well maybe if you didn't find the need to compare her to Glory all the damn like you did, maybe she would have made my life a fuck of a lot easier, don't you think?"

His father's expression shifts, a mix of surprise and guilt flickering across his features before settling into a resigned acceptance. "Son, I never meant to make things harder for you," he starts, his voice softer now, devoid of the earlier hostility. "But you gotta understand, Glory was special. She was... different. And I know I shouldn't have let that affect how I saw your wife, but I guess old habits die hard."

Frankie's shoulders tense as he absorbs his father's words, a bitter taste lingering in his mouth. "Well, you certainly made it clear where her place was in your eyes," he mutters.

His father sighs heavily, his gaze dropping to his plate. "I know, son. And I'm sorry for that," he says, his tone laced with regret.

Frankie's jaw clenches as he struggles to contain his frustration. "Yeah, well, easier said than done," he grumbles, his gaze flickering to the tequila bottle on the table, a stark reminder of the divide between them.

His father rises from the table, his movements slow and deliberate, as if weighed down by the gravity of their conversation. "I'm heading to the bar," he announces quietly, his voice tinged with resignation. "Don't wait up for me."

Frankie scoffs under his breath, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "Typical," he mutters, bitterness seeping into his words. "Always running away when shit gets dicey. Coward."

As his father reaches the door, he pauses, casting a sorrowful glance back at Frankie. "Takes a coward to know one, son," he says softly, the words heavy with unspoken regret. Then, without another word, he slips out into the night, leaving Frankie alone with his thoughts.

With a frustrated grunt, Frankie snatches the tequila bottle from the table, his movements rough and unceremonious. He doesn't bother with a shot glass, instead opting to take several swigs straight from the bottle. The fiery liquid burns as it travels down his throat, but he hardly notices it amidst the tumult of emotions swirling inside him.

"Fuck," he curses. "Welcome home, I guess."

Clutching the bottle tightly, he trudges up the stairs to his bedroom, the weight of the day settling heavily on his shoulders. As he disappears into the darkness of his room, the only sound that fills the empty house is the quiet echo of his footsteps on the creaking floorboards.

Series Taglist:

@ashleyfilm @danaispunk @imdrinkingpedro @yxtkiwiyxt @lilyevanstan1325

@kungfucapslock @critfailroll

#fic: hometown glory #pedro pascal #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales #hometown glory #frankie 'catfish' morales #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #frankie catfish morales #francisco catfish morales #francisco morales #frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier

[fanficwriterlover]

My Choice Our Consequence

Chapter 4 : Trusting in Your Safety

Summary: Now that you and Simon have worked out on living accommodations for your soon to be born son. You're getting closer to your due date and everything has been... moderate to say the least. But will you and Simon overcome the barrier of trust ?

Call-Sign or Nickname: Hera or Lil Light

Word Count: 10.6k Words

A03 Version

Your POV

Honestly it’s been, something having Ghost…well Simon around whenever he wasn’t at base. Sometimes you wished someone would pinch you to remind you this wasn’t some fanfic imagination (or is it ?)…

Either way, it’s been about two months since you and Simon agreed to work together to raise the child. Was definitely going to be like co-parenting but you both had everything planned out. Being both apart of the military had definitely played a part in both of you being detailed and determined to ensure everything goes according to plan.

Your mother sometimes found it laughable how much you two have over planned on every detail. But to you two…it was just having backup plans and touching all the bases.

Last month, Simon insisted on helping with the nursery along with your Uncle Daryl’s help. They revamped the once guest room into the nursery, painting the walls a light blue that you and your mother picked out. They put together the crib, with its no climb corners and fluffy mattress.

Every extra detail, from the cabinet full of diapers, baby powder, cleaner supplies and necessary items. Closet full of clothing of different apparels some even Simon disagreed with needing but you found it important your son have all different kinds of clothing for different occasions.

This also includes the bookshelf full of books to read with him, and basket of toys that your son can pick from. Everything was ready. Least to your mom and uncles opinion

But to you and Simon, there was much more to be done before he shows up. As of now... Simon stood in front of you across the island his elbows resting on the marble counter while you sat on the high stool with your iPad open tapping away on the screen, as you two discussed…

Simon gruffly states “We are not naming ‘im that.” He huffs holding his cup of tea to his lifted mask lips. This is the closest you’ve come to seeing him, honestly it killed you not knowing what he looks like still.

Like Gaz joked, if your son gets all the genes from him then you could possibly know what he looks like. You sigh softly rolling your eyes “Why not ? I think Xander is a cute name…” you bite at your lower lip.

Yes, this was the hardest task of them all, coming up with an agreeable name that you both would like. He glances at you, over the edge of his cup “Over my bloody damn body. Next.” He grumbles taking a sip. You grumble “Fuckin’ hell.” You scan through the list of names so far that you’ve found off the baby name dictionary. There was over a million of name choices for boys. Yet, so far, as you two gone through different meaningful names, none popped out to either of you.

This made you worry, you were expecting in about 28 weeks now…you have a check up tomorrow and neither of you have come up with a name yet. What if you two are too late ? What if when your baby is born that you two can’t agree on a name and have to call him “Baby 1” until you agree on one. It made you stress a bit. And that’s why the two of you always postponed the topic.

“Simon…we can’t keep rejecting every name…I’m only 28 weeks away…” you say lowly, your other hand resting down on your stomach. You begin to trace circles on your stomach.

Ghost’s POV

It didn’t take a genius to see how stressed out you were. The more weeks that went by, not only did you get more emotional but the lack of comfort made it impossible to do anything you used to. Ghost has no experience with women pregnant. Only memories of hearing about his once sister in law…but that was a touchy subject for him and he couldn’t bring himself to remember the last image of her.

Yet, sometimes he couldn’t help it…stealing a glance at you. You were someone he treasured now, much to his resistance, and he feared his presence would alone put you in danger. That never seemed to bother you though... He wanted you to start trusting him, to understand him for why he is the way he is...one day, he will. Just not today.

Your POV

Fall, was slowly shifting to winter, the chill in the air made it insufferable to want to do any kind of work. From just even walking outside to get the mail you did not want to go out into the cold air to retrieve it. “Ugh...why is it already bloody cold.” You huff, setting down your tablet down. Your hands stretch out to wrap around the hot cup of cocoa. It was the one drink you could have, since caffeine was off the table. Tea was more something you savored in the mornings and evenings but you have been recently craving chocolate so this was the best you could get for now.

Simon grumbles in response before leaving the kitchen to stalk somewhere, “’Snt it always ?” You huff at his remark rolling your eyes then stroking your belly.

Ever since Simon got back from his recent mission he been hounding you in every way. Shoot, the man wouldn’t even let you make yourself a cup scared you’d burn your belly. As if when he was gone you never did but you allowed him to be overprotective.

You take a slow sip from your cocoa, unlike you who rushes the process of making cocoa, this cup wasn’t as good as the ones Simon had made for you. He always made it perfect. He always made sure to use fresh cocoa and simmered a kettle of fresh milk (non fat since it was safe during pregnancy) he followed the doctors orders to the T. Which is hilarious, because you’ve seen the man ignore doctors orders after breaking his ribs to go to the gym to spar anyways.

As you mindlessly sipped your cup, you forgot to blow on it and burned your tongue, letting out a screech before fanning your tongue. Regretfully dropping your cup, as it crashes down onto the hard surface of your tile. What you didn’t expect was the man himself to rush to your aid as if you got attacked by an intruder. He jumps over the couch with ease, taking in the scene.

You can see the perplex in his eyes as if analyzing the situation seeing what the cause of your yelp was. Taking in the scene he immediately relaxed his shoulder just slightly satisfied that there was no actual harm, except the kind you’ve made for yourself. He strides over to you “You good ?” you blush seeing him ever so close, his cologne reaching your nose. Despite you being sensitive to certain smells, it seems your nose never got tired of smelling his cologne. His eyes study you then he reaches out to take your hands which puzzles your mind until you see his eyes squint down.

That’s when you see the red tint on your fingers. You burned yourself when boiling the milk. Blushing a bit and mumbling softly “Ah..that was when I was warming the milk…nothing serious.” His sharp eyes look down to meet yours.

Yes down…the man towered over you insanely…

“ Didn’t I ‘ellya to leave the cooking and shit to me…” he grumbles the words before withdrawing himself “I know…but Simon I’m not entirely helpless.” You pout, but you can see his eyes briefly crinkle…did he smile ? “Mhm…right….Go sit down. ‘ll clean it up.” You were about to protest but a sudden punch in your stomach had you gasping out.

Simons eyes blew up, seeing you putting your hand on your stomach as if reeling from a pain. Once you composed yourself, you see Simon’s outstretched hands bracing you at your elbows. You start laughing softly out of breath “Holy shit…your son’s a kicker.” You take a breath. Then meet his eyes as he gives you a puzzling look. It was endearing to see the stone cold lieutenant confused and unable to understand what was going on.

His almond brown eyes look at you confused “What ?” he asked sternly, as if the idea of you giving birth now made him feel taken by surprise. You laugh at the slight confusion plastered on Simons face. He seemed even more taken back that you’re laughing after showing signs of being in pain. However you feel a slight instinct while you have him close…

You gently grab at his hand, one he flinches from the sudden contact as you look into his eyes, “Trust me ?” you ask softly waiting for confirmation to proceed.

Ghost’s POV

One minute you were grasping onto him for your dear life, nails digging deep into his hoodie sleeves, then after a few breaths your laughing about it. He couldn’t figure out what to make of the situation. His mind still reeling if there was something wrong with the baby for you to react such a way.

Yet, when you ask him to trust you, it was like a whiplash. You know he questions anything to do with trust. The idea makes the Ghost want to crawl out and pull away. However, the Simon part of him wants to reach out and grasp onto this new unknown feeling…

No it wasn’t unknown…it was just something long forgotten and buried from years of betrayal.

When you asked him this, he felt deep down he could trust you. From the missions together, he trusted you. Against his better judgement. He trusted you and confided in you in a moments weakness for both of you to be in an intimate moment together. He trusted you from the moment he saw you again and was willing to give him a chance because despite him breaking it, in honesty you were willing to give him a chance.

He wanted to take a chance with you. Even if it was unfamiliar territory and he didn’t know what he was going to be walking into.

When his eyes meet yours, you give him the most doe eyes imaginable…

There’s just something about the way you look at him which makes him want the Ghost to stay in a corner and allow Simon to revel in the contact and embrace this new found feeling of interaction. So…for once…he let his guard down.

Nodding his head slowly, he didn’t know what to expect when you took his hand. They were still in his signature skull leather gloves. But it was the kind of contact that felt like electricity coursing through his nervous system. Slowly and tenderly, you soft hands guided his to rest on your stomach. For a moment he was confused by this…until he felt it.

It was subtle. Like a poke onto his palm. Their son was kicking.

For the first time, your son showed no signs of life, the doctor having to reassure you that he was very much healthy and breathing. You would joke it was because of him that their son gained his personality. However, now it seems your son wants to let you two know he’s there.

It was a moment for sure. Simon didn’t know how to feel or even know how to acknowledge the feeling he was expressing.

True happiness.

The little bundle that gave you and him a chance of unity to work together. An experience he never thought imaginable until he met you. It was a moment he wish he could keep with him forever. Especially as he looked down at your face.

You had the softest smile on your face, your eyes closed feeling the little kicks hit against your stomach as you still press Simons hand on your stomach. Seeing you in your cozy autumn dress that snugged your body, just reaching to your knees and your hair, down . You looked perfect. This moment felt perfect. For once it was nice to experience something mundane. To experience something he’d call…

His family.

It was this moment he wanted to give himself entirely to you, swear to you, open up to you. Yet, he figured when the time was right he would. For now.

Soaking in the moment of their little life they created. Who for once Simon was eager to meet. Yet, he’d never would admit it out loud, especially with the guys pestering about it. But he’d shrug it off and tell them he just wants your suffering to end.

It felt like the world stopped in that moment, it was just you two enjoying this moment together, Simon couldn’t resist it. His other hand slowly reached up to your cheek. Your eyes watching his every move. Yet you didn’t say anything. He was hesitant. But you just looked at him, almost reassuring him to keep going. Your doe eyes bore into his, they weren’t of hunger like the night you two laid. No it was a different kind of intimacy. One of companionship. But most of all…

Trust

He gently stroked your jaw line, as he slowly leaned closer to your face….

Your POV

He kept leaning closer by the minute, your heart was pounding harder than ever. You can’t believe this was happening. Was he going to kiss you ? His eyes drift down to your lips. It was a subtle question without words needing to be said. You knew what his eyes was entailing. It was something you learned to understand about him long ago.

Slowly you let go of his hand that still rested on your swollen stomach. He had no intentions of withdrawing even after your hands were off his. You slowly reach your hands up to the edge of his mask tucked under his hoodie. His eyes don’t leave yours. He’s watching you. Studying you. Seeing what next move you do. But there’s no sign of discontent. He wants you to do this. You can tell by his eyes. They speak so much more volume that any words spoken can comprehend.

You tentatively begin pulling up his mask, my eyes remaining on his as you do this. You’re expecting the worse as you slowly pull it up, but he doesn’t recoil or stop you. No. He just keeps looking at you.

So you keep going. Passing it just over his lips, revealing his perfect lips, that are slightly shaded pink, his stubble jawline as if carved out of a statue. His jaw adorned with tapestry of scars. Some danced along his cheek, it seemed long you were only seeing the tip that seemed to run up. There was one that crossed over the corner of his lips. You remember that one, when you two were together that night. Even though it was dark and everything was rushed you remember pressing light kisses over it. Almost wishing for those awful memories of it to wash away from his perfect skin. But it was something you accept and love about him…

Wait love ?

Do you love Simon ? Maybe….or maybe it’s just your hormones..

He looks at you still, my eyes meeting his, as you slowly lean up, he seems to lean in as well and just when our lips were grazing each others…

His phone rings…

He withdraws so fast it almost hurt. His eyes seemed to squint, almost as a sign of annoyance…He seemed to almost wished it had happened but at last, someone had to pop it.

You clear your throat eyeing down to his pants where the phone rings “You going to get that ?” for once you see him contemplate almost considering to ignore. For a few seconds you see him battle within himself…it was painful to watch the Ghost himself wanting to rebel. So you made the choice for him. You slowly withdrew from the close contact as you feel the heat rising in your cheeks. “I’m going to go….um…make another cup.” You leave the room quickly, well at least as quick as your legs could take you as you headed back into the kitchen. Stealing a glance at him as he looks your way, rolling his mask down as he digs into his pocket for his phone.

Ghost’s POV

We were so close to kissing, and of course something had to disrupt it. It felt like luck was never on his side. As always all the good in his life gets taken from him even from brief moments.

He answers the phone. He was agitated from the disruption and the person on the other was going to hear how angry he was for the intrusion.

“What you want ?”

Price : “Aye…good ‘earing from you too Simon. What’s with you eh ? How’s the little light ?”

“Price…” Simon felt the pit of his stomach dropped. “She and the bugger are fine.” He leaves the living room going outside to take this call, he couldn’t risk you hearing it… “What’s the news ?”

He hears Price hum softly and slight shifting in the background, he was readjusting himself in his seat, means he doesn’t have something good to say... “Ah…we got a lead. Shepard will fill you in. You’ll be dropped at the base in a couple days. That’s all I can share over the phone…”

Simon stayed silent. His eyes casting at your complex, this mission was important he knew that…in fact in most cases he would’ve put that before anything so why…

“Simon…I know you have a lot going on…I don’t blame you for wanting ou-” “I’ll be there.” There was silence for a moment as Price let out a sigh. “ ‘Right, I’ll send you where to go. You leave Monday (the day was Thursday) Good luck Simon.” With that he hung up. Looking at his phone screen silently. Hearing the words Price was going to finish he couldn’t even process those words.

Out ? This is all he ever known. Sure things are different now…but are they ?

He began second guessing his choices now for allowing himself to get close. Perhaps going on this mission will do him some good. Ghost heads back into the complex where he finds you finishing your new cup, but this time of tea, that you just poured for yourself. As you were letting the bag rest inside your cup, as the warm water seeps it.

Your eyes meet his, and once again he feels Simon wanting to crawl out and take over, but he shoves him down. Ghost needed to be present. “That was Price.” He watches as your features shift, it was brief it was a slight sadness peeking your face. But you recovered quickly averting your eyes from his looking into your cup. “Ah…when do you leave ?” you start dipping your tea bag up and down into your cup looking into it, deeply. As he says lowly “In a ‘ouple days.”

Your eyes look towards him…it once again made Simon want to claw out, the need to be there for you. But he can’t . Not now knowing he has to leave you at such a bad time. But you surprised him….

Your POV

Yes, the news hurt, the sudden change in his aura as he went back to being Ghost. Cold reserved and untouchable. It hurt how quickly his demeanor changed towards you. However, you understood. You have been in his shoes and you knew it would be inevitable. That came with the job. You guys were stuck to this life whether you wanted out later or not. The job demanded you.

You were an exception given your predicament. But you knew this was what Ghost lived for. It’s all he’s ever known. Nodding your head slowly. “You should probably get packing than, shouldn’t ya ?” you let out a low dry laugh. It seemed more of a huff then a laugh. But the fact was…it was amusing.

Of course you knew the reality of the job. If a lead came up of course they’d jump at it. Especially knowing the urgency for the mission. You didn’t know the full extent but you knew enough, and your time in the field to know such. You sigh softly “Look…Simon. You don’t need to worry about us. I told you this.” Your eyes meet his, his eyes remained unmoved from you. He was looking to see if you were covering up with lies, but they weren’t they were genuine.

“When you find the chance…reach me. I’m sure by then he’ll be born…” you bite at your lower lip. As much as you would love Simon to be there during birth you sure as hell weren’t going to make him feel guilty for leaving or make it seem like he has to choose. No, now more than anything he deserves to know he’s welcomed back. You smile softly at him, approaching him slowly.

He doesn’t withdraw as you approach, his eyes never leaving your movements as you drew closer as you gently reach your hand up, watching his expression. Ghost doesn’t budge or withdraw though, so you place your hand on his masked cheek. “Trust me?” You reach up as best you can against this tall giant. He lowers himself down though, enough so you can press a kiss onto his masked cheek before looking into his eyes.

He didn’t need to say a word.

You saw all the conviction in his eyes to know he planned to come back for you and their son…

“Thomas…” you blink at the sudden name…as you recalled his brother name being Tommy. Then you slowly began to understand, he wanted to name your son after him.

“Thomas…I like it.” You smile softly holding his gaze, he seemed to appreciate it. A part of you wandered if him wanting to name their son after his brother was a way to prove better. Almost swearing this time…he won’t lose his loved ones. You knew nothing would happen. Simon would return from the mission when it’s over and get to meet his son. Maybe things will play out better for you two. You don’t know…but you were willing to see what this choice leads to.

The Next Day

Honestly from the events of yesterday, you nearly forgotten about your appointment for today.

It was thanks to your mother reminding you before she left for work, and Simon sudden urgency to usher you out of the complex into the car.

To say pregnancy befuddles your mind was an understatement, you could barely think straight. It was painful to think too. Your once strategic, organized, and determined mind was a train wreck.

It could be from the lack of sleep now, you felt so bloated, but also it was impossible to get out of bed comfortably let alone sleep. It seemed your unborn was like his father, in the quietness was when he made himself known. Which he would either kick your stomach to the point you had to sit up and walk around or he demanded food to be deposited into your stomach. With which you’d made a late midnight snack.

Since being closer to your due date, and time flying by effortlessly, you started noticing Simon insistent on staying in your complex to make sure you get the help you need. Because of this, your mother had decided (since she has so grown to love Simon) that she’d stay at your uncle’s place while Simon was present so you could lean on him more. Of course you hated that she left you with him, sometimes his silence was unbearable and you worried you burden him with helping you with tedious tasks. But perhaps it was because your mother knew nothing would happen while he was there.

So, Simon spent most nights in your mother’s room that she loaned to him. However on some midnight scouring through the refrigerator, you’ve learned he would often sleep on the couch. Mostly because he knew you’d wake up craving something and didn’t apparently trust you enough to open a simple yogurt container. Silly little things like that he worried about your well being. As if you were out on the field fighting for you life, Simon was there at your six to keep you safe from such tedious civilian tasks.

Oh, and driving with Simon has become quite the most stressful part of the trip. The man, bless him, as big as he was must drive crazy do to discomfort. He was a bully man for the matter and being used to harsh conditions he drives almost like a madman. I’m always bracing the handle on the door because, his turns were painfully sharp. But you know the wiser, correcting or even judging a man’s driving skill is not a debate to go on. The drive was of course short, since the man nearly blew through 3 stop lights, you knew he’ll probably get tickets about it. Wondering how embarrassing that was you were the reason for his reckless driving. Yet, he got you there safely.

Pulling into the hospital parking lot, it was packed. Rows of cars lined up, but Simon found the most closet spot to the entrance as possible. Yes, the man drove through every single aisle in the lot to find the BEST one. Sighing in relief you release the seat belt buckle freeing the slight pressure that was pressing over your chest and lower abdomen a bit too tightly. You were just collecting my bearings for a few seconds, before feeling the coolness brush your right shoulder.

Glancing over, you see Simon had already hopped out of the truck and was now opening your passenger side door. You take the chivalrous act turning yourself in the seat, it was much harder to get in and out of cars. Especially harder, in a big pick up truck, that Simon drove.

Luckily, Simon, was there to help you, his large arm nearly caged you in the front as you use his arm to balance yourself and ease out of the car. He doesn’t touch you, just uses his body to help you get out. It was such a subtle gesture but meant a lot. Because, your mother would’ve struggled much more trying to help you out. “Thanks...You didn’t have to.”

You knew that was a lie, you did need it, it was painful to change positions now, your growing baby, had decided to expand ever so more, your once small physique outweighed by your growing baby who just so happens to have the DNA of a giant. Yes, this still bugged you. Of all men to get knocked up by, why did YOU have to do it not only with your lieutenant but the biggest man you ever known. Was a cruel joke the thought of pushing out his baby often sent shivers down your spine.

Simon must’ve noticed as you can see the squint in his eyes and crease in his brows “You cold ?” you wave you hand dismissively supporting your back as he walks closely at your side, on your right of course. “No, I’m fine. Just uncomfortable. God I can’t wait to push him out.” You huff, even walking barely a mile was an effort. You were already out of breath by the time you both entered through the automatic sliding doors.

The hospital was bustling, taking in patients and front desk ladies answering calls. Simon tenses from the atmosphere. This is his first time coming with you. From your last checkup, he simply drove you and your mother and your mother would go in with you. This time after many attempts at persuading him you won over him.

And Simon, wore something less terrifying than his usual apparel. He wore a black surgical face mask, it went up over his nose, he had no black smear paint over his eyes for once, but his hoodie cloaked his hair and shaded his eyes from the light. Immediately you sat yourself down in the chair, Simon however, stood near you. Like a looming bodyguard, the man just did NOT know when to relax or let his guard down. You could see his eyes shift to every person in the room as if waiting for some surprise attack.

A part of you didn’t blame him for this habit, when you first started having to live as a civilian you doubted every single person. You can’t imagine how untrusting Simon must be feeling, to be so exposed and you’re certain to him, the worse part was being weaponless.

However, him being on edge was not helping your anxiety for this appointment. Yes, you trusted your baby was fine but it still didn’t stop your mind from worrying. Slowly you reach up and touch his arm.

He nearly jumps. But of course he’d never admit it. He looks down at you, seeing it was your harmless hand resting on his arm as you say lowly “Relax Simon…you’re stressing me out…also you’re making everyone else anxious-” he huffs under his mask, giving an eye roll as you look at him serious not going to put up with his attitude “I mean it. You either sit down or there will be hell.” His eyes look at you seriously, debating if should challenge that minor threat.

But of course, you were a women to your word. And you’d never forget. In fact you planned to give him an ear full about his demeanor. You were okay to an extent but sometimes you just wish he let his guard down when in civilian area so he didn’t stress you or anyone else in radius.

Finally he grumbles lowly, moving to sit in the seat to your right, near the entry, as he finally sat done. You couldn’t help but smirk, the chair looked ridiculously small holding him. It was a miracle it didn’t collapse. That would be a humorous sight.

Now he was quite the sight himself, standing 6’4 practically lean killing machine. His mystery aura probably was an attraction to many civilians, especially youthful ones. As just so happens a bunch of teenagers were gossiping and giggling in the corner of the lounge. Why they were there was beyond your brain capacity, they seemed too young to be pregnant…was that normal in society? You felt so old…

You could hear little what was said but tried not to feel the bubbling feeling in your chest “Oh-My-God, he’s hot…” “He’s a tall dark drink of mystery” “I dare you to ask his number.”

Honestly, if these girls think their whispering was low enough they were not even trying. You couldn’t help but steal a glance at Ghost. His eyes focused dead ahead at the front desk. Surely he was hearing the words these girls were saying.

It didn’t help he was in the most….hottest sitting position you’ve seen. His legs were spread arms crossed over his chest, you know he wasn’t doing it intentionally more for comfort since he barely fit the seat. But you couldn’t help how attractive he seemed. You didn’t blame the girls for finding him attractive, honestly you wished you knew if he was attractive without the mask too.

His deep voice broke your train of thought, “I can feel yer eyes on me y/n.” his eyes slowly shift to you, which made you blush. You didn’t realize you had stared at him long enough for him to notice. Than again nothing gets past his radar. “Well…can’t help it…you got quite the fan girls over there.” You snort.

His head looks in your direction, his eyes squinting obviously not finding it amusing as you can see his brows crease processing your features probably and attitude, as he then asks “You jealous ?” You could see the corners of his eyes crinkle, the bastard was smirking “S-Shut up.” You huff smirking trying to ignore the burning in your cheeks as he speaks again shifting in his seat “Plus I’m not here for bunch of kids. Got my own to worry about, yea ?”

How this man says stuff so casually astounds you. He seems too calm and collected it makes you wish you could open his brain up and know what’s running through it.

Ghost’s POV

Having eyes on him has always been something he had been used to. From recruits shaking to their bones of what he’ll shout, to his victims petrified of their life getting taken from his hands, and now civilians. This though, was something he’ll never get used to.

Civilians seemed to walk aimless with no purpose and oblivious to their surroundings. Without a care in the world. It sometimes baffled him how relaxed these people were, unaware of the raging war that he and people like him were fighting to keep the peace, that these people took for granted.

Yet, today, he was here with you, doing something so mundane to take you for your pregnancy checkup.

Honestly, he would’ve taken you here every day if he could, this whole pregnancy process had him on edge. He never felt so helpless in his entire life.

Unable to help you with all the weight you were carrying and the discomfort you were having to endure in order to carry his child. You didn’t deserve this, yet motherhood almost seemed to suit you.

His eyes couldn’t help but glance at you subtly when you would pretend you weren’t staring at him. You had the most earnest smile, too pure for the military, your hair had this shine to it, but in a way was done hastily in a messy bun. However, it looked attractive for you. From your clothes, you always wore something cozy and snug, today wearing a loose v neck top with a plaid jacket to keep you warm. Some stretchy pants that curved around your hips and thighs nice especially your protruding belly.

From your ripped nails (a habit he absolutely disliked one you did even on duty), fresh clean smooth skin, perfect face structure. Everything. You had bewitched him in ways he could never comprehend Which makes him think back to when you two laid together…it had been so long ago. But at nights it was something that plagued his dreams and had him wanting to experience it again.

Of course then a women in a white cloak approaches the two of you, sending him a bit more on edge with the women’s plastered smile. Was too white for Simon’s liking. She stops short of him, eyeing him before looking at you “Ah, Y/n ! Ready for your check-up?” she smiles at you…

So she’s the doctor…. “Yes I’m ready. Also this is-” You look to him a bit. He knew you were trying to be considerate in his choice of giving names…yet for you he’d let this slide. “Simon.” he says blunt and uninterested in interacting with the doctor, he only came to make sure the baby was okay as per your request, well more of begging.

You give him the biggest smile, hearing him use his name to greet the doctor. Just seeing you happy for something so minor gave you the greatest joy…why you held him so high he’ll never understand but he held you the same way too. You slowly stood up, getting to your feet, he gives you his arm, that was still in his pocket to assist, which you take his subtle gesture.

The doctor blushing and biting her lip, it bothered him. The way she looked at him. He only liked when you looked at him that way but something in him wanted to snap at her for such but he refrained. Instead walking behind you as the doctor led you to the ultrasound room.

Entering the room, he had to duck his head a bit, the doors were definitely not made for men his height, obviously more for women. You giggled at his struggle as he shot you a glare which stopped your adorable giggles but still plastering a smirk.

“Alright…you know the drill, momma. Sit down, lift up, and relax.” The doctor was now getting the machine wheeled closer, and turned on. You turned to the laying chair, Simon’s seeing it was a bit high for you as he moved closer in front of you.

You give him a questionable look, but he simply gestures with his hand, that he’ll help you up. You take it, his arms tense as he helps you up, you blush when it seems to get into the chair with ease. Looking up at him you whisper softly, “Thank you…”. He simply nods his head stepping back to stay out of the way. Choosing to linger against the wall as the doctor comes to your side now, once you lifted up your top exposing your stomach.

It's the first time he’s seen your belly bare, you were never naked or wearing shorter tops since pregnant. You still had that tattoo on your right that that ran just under your arm down your whole side. It was a bunch of rose vines tangled around skull head, butterflies, ribbons, but most of all a peacock head with the feathers spread on the side pulling a chariot.

It was the most detailed tattoo he admired on you when you rested on your side beside him after you two were intimate. He remembered looking at the details put into it, and how it seemed unique.

He never asked though, but he did his own researching. Hera’s chariot was pulled by the peacock. Which made since considering your call sign. Not to mention the meaning behind Hera, as the goddess of childbirth, he prayed you had that luck on your side.

The doctor had spread some gel substance on your stomach just at your lower abdomen as she placed the probe there. The monitor on the screen started giving a swoosh sound and bit pulsing but it was all grey and white visuals. Until she worked the probe more on your stomach to show the view of…

Their son.

The doctor looked at the monitor seeing how the baby was curled in the fetal position all curled up. Simon felt an odd feeling looking at the screen.

It felt unreal actually seeing it on the screen. The doctor than began speaking “That’s a healthy looking baby. Wow I’d say he’s about…3.997 kilograms (8.13 pounds) !” you nearly groan inwardly as he did his best to stop himself from huffing a laugh. The doctor arches a brow “I take you’re the dad ?”

The question made Simon stiff but he simply just nodded his head slowly, which the doctor giggles “Yeah go figures, he definitely got the dad genes y/n.” you roll your eyes as you remained still while she continues to examine the monitor making sure everything else looks good. That’s when you brought up “Oh can you take the pictures. I want a few if you don’t mind.” The doctor smiles at you nodding her head. “I figured you’d want that. I’ll send to you via email and I’ll print out a copy that you can pick up at the front.” She smiles, clicking on the machine to capture the ultrasound picture and having it printed to the printer at the front desk. His eyes never leaving the ultrasound.

He couldn’t help but glance at your face. You looked happy, admiring the monitor of your unborn child. It was a moment he would remember. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride at that being his son he’ll get to meet when he gets back from the mission. He definitely had a reason now to come back.

Your POV

After everything seemed clear, the doctor went over what to expect with the contractions and asking where you would be giving birth.

Then even gave advice that Simon could help you with by doing the gentle lifting. This of course made you blush as you sat on the examination chair “It’s a great exercise and harmless. Relaxes the body from the heavy weight you been carrying that child. Plus Dad will get an opportunity to see how much weight you’re carrying.” She laughs softly “I can show you how to do it dad if you’d like to help her ?”

A part of you knew Simon would definitely feel uncomfortable with that suggestion or even volunteer to do something remotely having to touch someone. It’s something about showing attachments in public that isn’t his forte. In fact you only feel he stuck around for the kid sake since he probably wanted to be better than how he was raised.

You could see Simon shift uncomfortably his eyes darting away as if the idea wasn’t something he wanted to express or do. “Ah…it’s okay. I think we sho-” “Show me.” Simons deep British accent seem vibrate in the room. All eyes were on him now. You were nearly gaping, but looking at him uncertain wondering if he only was feeling obligated to do it for the doctor to not judge “Simon…really it’s okay. Let’s just g-” “I want to.” He stops you which makes you blush from embarrassment. The doctor laughs softly “Okay then ! Y/n stand up and Simon right ?” he nods his head.

You stand up getting out of the chair as the doctor comes behind you “Alright, so what you’re going to do is links your fingers together like this” as she shows her both hands linked then stands behind you. You awkwardly stand there unsure what to expect. “Then you come behind, make sure y/n you can lean back into me..now I’ll use my legs to just slightly bend and keep back flat then slowly lift…” the moment the doctor lifted your stomach, it felt like all the weight was well…weightless.

It was so satisfying…you almost forgot how it felt to not having carried so much weight.

In the moment your eyes slowly flutter close you can hear the doctor continue to lecture “Only lift about two inches, should do it. Now when you release you have to do it SLOWLY.” She gives you a few minutes enjoying the session before slowly lowering your stomach. It was relaxing for the moment and made you almost wish she hadn’t stop. However your eyes flutter open, looking to see Simon’s eyes were on you.

It made you blush realizing how relaxed you were in the moment that you were unaware of his watching eyes on you. “Alright dad. Ready to try ?” you blink realizing what was about to happen as you watched Simon push himself off the wall. He nods his head at the doctor as she sits back to observe. Your heart beats harder as he walks around behind you, his looming presence all so familiar as it made you feel déjà vu when you had first met him…

2 Years Ago 141 Meeting at Base

The helicopter hummed loudly, despite the headset you wore to dull out the loud blades. You had your hair braided down over your shoulder to keep the wind from whipping your hair in your face and you wore a cap to keep the strands down. Your eyes shift as you feel it began to descend hitting the landing platform. Once confirmed the pilot let you know you can get out. Which you hastily do so, standing up keeping low as you open the side of the chopper. You had your duffle bag swung over your shoulder as you climbed out.

The blades made your hair fly crazy but you kept low until clear from the blade. Finally taking in your surroundings of your new base it was exciting to be working with Captain Price. You had met him on a mission many years ago in Urzikstan where you assisted in helping Karim escape. Luckily you weren’t needed much for medical side, but you did aid in freeing commander Karim’s men and women. However she would never know, you were a female that was there. Most times you wore attire that hid that you were a women.

It kept the fights even. No one would go easy on you or suspect they were beaten and killed by a women. That’s how you liked it.

However the main reason you hide yourself, was how you got your name…

“Ah Hera ! You made it.” You turn you head having dazed off as you noticed Price striding over to greet you.

His muttonchops were fuller, you remember the last you two had spoke he was considering growing out a beard but was unsure what style. It was very unique style yet suited him. You gave him a tender smile “Captain Price. Wouldn’t miss joining up with an old friend now.” You smirk. He shakes your hand fondly then gently pats your shoulder “Why I picked you for my taskforce. Come. The lads will be joining soon.” He nods his head for you to follow which you do.

He gives you a brief tour of the base, seeing the gym, cafeteria, lounge room, medical wing (your favorite) his office, meeting room, baths (as of course he had to mention there were no separate ones for women but would ensure you had a key to lock when using it,), and lastly your bunker.

Your name plate was plastered on the door in a silver plate with your rank y/n, “Hera” and your l/n. Price opened your door with ease showing you, your neatly made room, with the bed in the corner, pale beige walls, old wooden floor boards, a desk and chair, a counter space in the corner where you can buy your own appliances for small kitchen ware and a small closet for your clothing.

Typical base room. Small simple and tidy. “Thanks Price.” You smile at him as he smiles back, his muttonchops crinkling as he smiles as you could no longer see his dimples cheeks when he smiles, but you knew they were there “Please y/n, no need for formalities, you can call me John” you smirk “What ? Already playing favorite Cap ?” you give a wicked grin as he simply chuckles shaking his head stepping to your door. “Ill see you tomorrow for briefing. 0600 sharp. Rest of the lads will be in tonight. Rest up.” He nods his head, as he leaves you in your room.

Taking a breath, you decide to look around the room taking in the surroundings and debating on what you could do to lively it up when you get the time and chance to go shopping. For now you planned to rest up, and unpack. Tomorrow will be when you meet the rest of your team. You had heard their names but was not permitted to seeing their files on each one. Probably because you’ll be meeting them anyways. For now…you needed rest so rest was what you planned to get.

Next Day at 0400

Your alarm blared annoyingly at your bedside stand as you moaned annoyed. As much as you should be used to waking up this early your body however seemed to hate every moment of it. Groggily, you reach over to stop your alarm, after embarrassingly missing the stop button after three attempts, you finally silenced the cruel bastard.

Slowly you positioned yourself up so that you didn’t fall back to sleep and grabbed your hygiene stuff and spare clothing to go get ready.

Peeking your head out the room, the bunker halls were silent, you were the only one up at this hour, thankfully. You slipped out of the room and shut the door quietly aware your other teammates were probably trying to get every last bit of rest they can muster. You make your way to the bathroom, you planned on at least making yourself presentable today. Having brought your towel and other hygiene supplies, you began showering first to wake yourself up.

Dipping yourself under the cold running water to wake you, while you waited for the water to warm up, sent shivers down your spine. Taking cold showers was definitely a way to wake you. But once the warm water hit it made you melt. You could stay under the streaming water forever, however, today you planned to make a good impression.

After finally finishing cleaning yourself up and drying yourself, you began to dress into your attire. After putting on your sports bra, and boxer pants (yes, they were more comfortable to wear underneath heavy cargo pants and military attire. Plus no lie, it curved your ass nicely) then put on your thick beige cargo pants that had plenty of pockets. Then putting on a tight long sleeve camo top. It was a collar type with a zipper and you always kept the zipper halfway down to make it breathable.

Once you finishing dressing and tying on your duffle boots, you got your hair slick back in a tight bun using some gel that slicked your hair perfectly.

Satisfied with your apparel, you glance at the watch on your wrist, it was 0500, you had an hour to spare. Walking out of the bathroom with your discarded clothes and hygiene you went to your room to return your stuff then decided to grab yourself a cup of coffee to wake up before heading to the meeting room.

However what you didn’t expect, upon walking into the lounge where the coffee maker would be, was a tall looming man cloaked in all black hunched over with a cup. The man was massive it was insane. You couldn’t help but freeze, like a deer in line of sight of headlights. The man surely wasn’t military was he ? He must’ve sense your presence as he side glanced you, barely shifting his head to glance back at you. His eyes scan you head to toe, before you hear a huff.

‘Whats his problem ?’ you frown at the odd behavior as you slowly make your way over to grab yourself a cup “Um, Morning, sorry wasn’t aware someone else was up. You are?” his eyes glare at you annoyed as if your question was the most ridiculous thing he heard. But instead of pleasantly answering, oh no he turned and left. Just up and leave. You stood there dumbfounded wondering what the hell the man problem was for him to be so cold. ‘God…he must not be a morning person.’ You roll your eyes as you begin to work on your cup of coffee.

By 0549 you made you way to the meeting room where it would be taking place, you have yet to see anyone aside from the grumpy cloaked man.

Opening the door to the meeting room though you see Price eyes look up to your figure as he smiles “Ah Hera. You made it.” yet, he wasn’t alone. Two other member were seated. One was muscular, he had a nice round chiseled face. Beautiful blue eyes, but you’ll never admit that to him and a Mohawk. He seemed lively as he spoke up “Aye you ‘ust be Hera ! Names Soap.” He gives you a toothy grin, odd name for a handsome face, you dare not question that name. “Nice to meet you.” You nod your head to him, as the other man who you knew smirked “Good seein’ ya Hera. You gotten taller ? Or is it just your boots ?” he smirks playfully as you roll your eyes “Tough love Gaz” He laughs softly, his laugh was too pure for this world, as his slightly curled hair was under his ball cap, wearing his light blue button up rolled up sleeve shirt under his vest. He always was a handsome man, even since he was a little boy he was handsome and you two were close buddies since middle school and through boot camp.

Just when you were about to question where the last member was “Um so where’s the other gu-” but Price spoke up, and his eyes weren’t on you but rather something or rather someone behind you “Ah, good of you to join us Ghost. Lads…and erm lass meet Lieutenant Riley. You can call him Ghost.”

As if slowly registering all the eyes shifting behind you, you slowly glance your head behind seeing him looming behind you. The man was tall. It was insane how much he over towered you, it made you feel incredibly small with a bunch of big men. Yet he was different.

Looking up to meet, his almond brown eyes, that were piercing down at you, you could see hint of blonde of his lashes despite it smeared with black paint, and his face was covered with a mask, that had a literal skull plate on top of it that had chips on the eye rim of the skull. The man was menacing yet as beautiful as death. You couldn’t help but swallow the lump that was slowly forming in your mouth as you couldn’t tear your eyes from him…working with him was definitely going to be interesting…

Present Moment

It was hard to believe they were literally in the same moment as before. You were looking up at the menacing man in the past with fear as he looked at you once with distaste . However after doing missions together, the two of you had worked up a good bond, a respectable one that had each other’s backs . Yet that led to an unknown attraction, one you’d presume was just lust that resulted in well…your predicament.

Simon gently leaned forward, you felt his broad chest at the back of your head as your felt his chest muscle flex when his arms slowly, hesitantly encircled you. Your heart raced harder against your chest, this was just him helping and you were making it seem like he was kissing you.

God why could you feel his breath through the mask against your neck, it made the hair on the back of your neck, go up. The moment your felt his muscular arms go around you, it made you almost shiver but you forced your body to stay still. The moment he had his hand gently coming under your stomach, your breath slightly hitched. Even though his hands were gloved, it still sent your body into a huge heat wave.

You prayed with all your might be didn’t notice how enflamed your cheeks were or how his subtle touches sent your body emblazed. Then when he slowly lifted, of course having followed the instructions to the T, the moment he lifted your stomach you felt yourself lean more into him, and he was pressed into you.

When he lifted you could definitely feel, his biceps were flexing as he held your stomach, he seemed so gentle for hands that could be so brutal. It was impressive how he could be ever so careful when needed to be. You didn’t even think it was possible.

You don’t know how long he was holding your stomach, or what the doctor may have commented, probably praising him for doing a good job, but in that moment you felt….

Safe.

It was the only word you could describe the feeling. Even if it was something Simon wasn’t keen to do, you honestly don’t know his reason for wanting to do this…but you felt this made you feel completely safe from everything. It was a comfort you were neglected having as a child. When you threw yourself into the military you wanted to harden yourself to not rely on anyone for safety, yet meeting Ghost. That changed everything.

From the moment you two first went on mission together, you wanted nothing more than to trust him and knew he’d keep you safe no matter the cost.

He showed that multiple times when you put yourself in the line, a few times to save wounded or even take a risk, and every time. He was there having your back.

So now…here he was…weaponless, out of his comfort zone and having to do something gentle, you felt entirely safe once again.

You didn’t even realize how relaxed you were that you had leaned into him and let out a soft sigh. After some minutes, you feel him slowly lower your stomach, the moment ending but it was nice. Even better than when the doctor did it.

She seemed pleased nodding her head “Well you seem like a natural ! Okay ! When you start getting contractions, call me ! We discuss by then. I have your number and your mother’s. I’ll send you some things to read okay ?” You nod your head. “Thank you Doctor. Andrea.” You smile as she nods her head opening the door out of the room then leading you both to the front desk.

You could sense Simon lingering behind you as he followed you closely. The doctor goes behind the front desk walking to the printer as she grabs the ultrasound picture. There was 3 printed out as she handed them over to you from the desk. “Alright. You both are set ! Can’t wait to meet the little one.” She smiles giving you both a wave. As you do the same. Looking up at him, you smile at him holding the pictures.

Ghost’s POV

When doing the belly lift exercise, a part of him worried he may hurt you or the baby. Yet, he was very intent on following the doctors direction to the exact T. He watched intently as you expressed a sense of relaxing when doing it. Like it was the first kind of relief you experienced since being pregnant. All the more reason he wanted to do this.

When it was his turn, his eyes landed on you, you seemed nervous. Was it because of him ? Even when he got behind you he could tell your heart rate increased and you were trying to control your breathing. It was as if his presence makes you flustered. However he tried to control his own reaction to being right behind you and having to actually touch you more closely than he’s ever done.

When he carefully lifts your stomach, immediately he realizes how much weight you’ve been having to carry. ‘Bloody hell…no wonder she’s barely sleeping.’ As he holds your stomach up, he couldn’t help but feel proud at how much of a fighter you were. Not only were you fighting through the pain of carrying the child but also you were willing to do this alone if he didn’t plan to be there for you.

There was a sense of regret as he felt the slight strain in his muscles, honestly it was impressive to him how you didn’t complain as much as you did.

However, he regretted having to leave in a couple days for this mission. Knowing you’ll be going through this alone. Even though he knew you wouldn’t be entirely alone having your mother and uncle a part of him hated it wasn’t going to be him. He just hopes the mission will be done without any complications.

Once he slowly lets go of your stomach, even though he’d willingly hold it for you as long as you needed he finally let go knowing you’d want to go home and get off your feet. Especially how swollen your ankles were.

As they left the ultrasound room and made their way to the desk, they once again passed the young girls who once again began staring at him. Briefly he saw your face slightly twist with once again jealousy. Why you would get jealous was beyond him…you were much more than some teens and it angered him you thought less of yourself when you were carrying their child.

All the more reason he couldn’t resist casting a quick glare in the girls direction which obviously got the message clear enough as they looked terrified. You luckily were all the more unaware as he remained close behind you as you collected your pictures.

The smile adorned your face would be that of the sun, it was bright and gorgeous he wanted to capture the moment himself.

They both then walked out of the hospital, finally as they make their way to his truck. As they drew near he steps ahead of you when they drew near opening your door for you. He then holds out his gloved hand for you to help get into the car, it was something he thought even if minor you seemed to appreciate it instead of trying to pull yourself in. With his strength he eased you into the passenger seat. Once he was sure you were safely seat he shut your door then walked around to the driver side.

When he got in. He noticed you had already put your seatbelt on and was looking at the ultrasound photos. He couldn’t help but smile. You seemed so happy just since the growing baby in your stomach and it made him smile to himself seeing you this way. As he put the key into his engine, your hand reached out onto his. For a moment he thought something was wrong as his eyes looked down at you. Then you spoke “I want you to have one.” You extend our in your hand one of the ultrasound pictures. They were small yet perfect. “That’s if you want it. I don’t know…maybe just something to hold onto to-” you pause, as he watches your face turn teary, you were getting emotional “Sorry, nevermind. Silly thought. I know you don’t wan-” he didn’t even realize he said something until he saw your eyes flutter up to meet his.

They looked so innocent and pure. Sometimes he couldn’t believe you used to be able to take men his size down in a heartbeat. But a part of him like seeing you this way. It made him want to protect you even more. Which is why, against Ghost’s better judgement. Simon said it. “No. I want it.” Simple words.

He could see you were wondering if he was being serious or not so to prove it, he reached out for the little printed picture that you let him take as he took a glance at it briefly before pulling out his wallet. “When I’m on the mission, plan to put it in my vest.” He mumbles lowly, he could see something drop in the corner of his eye.

When he looked it was a tear. And another. ‘Fuck…was it something I said ?’ but then he saw you smile…god you were really bringing out Simon more and more. He then reached his gloved hand tentatively, to your cheek. Once again his eyes watching for any withdrawal or dislike.

But he saw none, and you had already begun to reach to cup his cheek as well. For a moment he expected you to pull up his mask again but instead, you lean forward and press a kiss over his mask on his cheek. Right where his left cheek scar crosses over. It was almost as if you knew the story behind the scar, because in that moment, he felt his walls slowly crumble, and he pressed his forehead against yours.

It was the closest you two have ever been And honestly, he was grateful you weren’t pushing him. You knew his limit and respected. And this made him feel trusting in you. Because you trusted he’ll one day open up to you when he’s ready. Now he planned to when he returned from the mission…everything.

He doesn’t know what you two will be when he comes back. Or how you two will be having a child together but he knows more than anything he wants to put his trust in you.

That’s his next mission…

You and their unborn Thomas.

Taglist : @the-reality-of-my-life , @kat-nee , @wwe1rdc0re , @saturnknows , @stalyxysh ,@avatarislife4ever,@ayesha-fish , @sae1kie ,@longing-for-the-past-times ,@daisyfrubies ,@sailorneotunemivhiru,@ra-im , @maflor123 ,@i-love-ptv , @sseleniaa , @ghostandneteyamaremine , @darkravenqueen98 @lazybutsmexy ,@thestartitaness ,@uniquecroissant , @princessdimondheart , @braindancecopy , @mrflyingbanana03

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon riley x you #cod x y/n #cod x you

[sleepynegress]

On Challengers...

Okay.

So, here's the thing. It's decent.

It's sassy, catfighty, but with dudes using rackets and tongue-wrestling, and the tennis scenes are tense, but... it wasn't at all confidently scandalous like I would've expected.

....Like I feel like they didn't push it far enough, somehow? And not even in the way you might think, with dicks a-swingin and thrusts abundant. Remember, the movie Closer? -I think that came out in 2007ish and was rated PG-13??? Or could have been if not for the language.

Natalie Portman has a similar nudity clause to her contract and *STILL* had the absolute sexiest scene with Clive Owen.... .....Which I'll put in this post to demonstrate what I mean. This felt like it held back at moments... When it came to pushing desire, between the men and/or with Zendaya, with one or the other. It just felt so tame to me given the hype. I was hoping for a return to artistic sensuality in film again, instead of this weird sort of by-rote-feeling purity culture we're having rn. (I'm watching Love Lies Bleeding tonight and I BET that delivers. Lesbians, salude!) I was hoping for Cruel Intentions' lush cut with The Dreamers' sensuality..if that makes sense?? AND some good-good tennis. THAT did deliver. WOW, some of the shots for that were eye-popping. A critic I follow noted that her issue (she always has the best takes I don't agree with all of them but they are always well-articulated) was that Zendaya was not fleshed out as a central figure, especially as a BLACK WOMAN. It was yet again another case of a Black woman dropped down from the moon coming from no people of her own, but just somehow existing in a sea of white people with not a hint of Black friends or loved ones.

Hell, they could've even laid out *her people* like the brilliantly underrated Beyond The Lights with Minnie Driver playing the stage manager mom to Gugu Mbatha Raw's biracial pop star. But that comes down to the white male gaze fucking it up, yet again. I looked up the screenwriter and just kind of nodded knowingly with an 'oh, yeah that's what I expected, that explains it...' He simply didn't have the range beyond a sort of vague tennis fetish for brown girls in short skirts grunting and swinging and wanting to do something with that. He admitted that Naomi and another Black woman player's interaction on the court *inspired* this...

Perception of Black women doing ANYTHING can be so heavy with a weirdly asexual gaze from white women and hyper-sexualized by white men. And if desire/centering tips in the "wrong" direction deemed by prejudice and our assumed place....*yeesh* we catch hell. You're either bafflingly too ugly to be treated with desire (whew the incel bigots are big mad that it's Zendaya and not a Sweeney-type) or only deemed good enough for it, because of that white gaze. And resented regardless.

*sigh* Can't win for losing. But I digress. Zendaya's co-stars are the oddest looking mystical-dwarf-head ass forest creature white boys with big ears, but they GAVE in the acting department. Mike Faist is a STAR. He has a sort of laidback sweetly confident rizz. But he definitely is the lovechild of a young Scott Glenn and DJ Qualls. I want to put him in a western immediately because he has Civil War photo face.

Mike O'Connor has that desperate dirty hairy scruffy thing like dude from The Bear. Like you KNOW he has a scratch tat somewhere and would do the dirty with his partner in the toilet stalls or anywhere else. Hollyweird is strange about beauty standards man. Back in the day, they used to pretend old white men, who looked like they smelled like Barbasol mixed w/ urine would somehow be sexy to a twentysomething. Now, we have this dichotomy of thankfully a little more of a diverse gaze for the centered "bombshell" other than blonde with large breasts number 32637263872.... but we also have some actresses cutting fat out their cheeks and being Ozempic thin. *sigh* ...While the "basic" hot boys are punching the air rn because they are also passé. Got to have something interesting going on in the face for everyone now, I think. Can't just be AI "pretty" anymore. Thankfully.

....Anyway. It is good, but with those caveats I laid out.

P.S. ICONIC for me is seeing Zendaya's Black-ass nose bridge drawn large on that poster. P.P.S Thank LUCA for doing the queer elements well... I personally don't think it went far enough, tho...

Mike bottoming for all, including getting pegged by Zendaya would've happened in my version of this... at least implied, come on (ficwriters?) Oh! and here are the clips from Closer, but then it was a successful play first, so the script is more substantial in that.

This is how filthy I expected Challengers to be, and it's just. not. Nothing in The Challengers touches the heavy heady nastiness in this scene IMO, but something in that movie should have, dammit! Note they never even touch each other.

#challengers #it is riveting #also that soundtrack!!! #already bookmarked on the spotify #atticus and trent do it again #so happy to see the goth industrial prince trent evolving to this movie score icon place now. #the challengers #josh o'connor #mike faist #zendaya #Youtube

[cheemscakecat]

Missing in Action 6

Chapter 6: Strange Dream, New Favorite Memory

TW: Heavier Angst. Scout has some awful, awful brothers. But Spy is a real one.

Jeremy went to bed in a better mood than he’d had in a long time. He was so glad that the new Spy was such a nice guy. And such a great cook too. Though, somethin was going on and he didn’t feel like making food. And from how the newbie was actin, it was something serious.

Well, it wasn’t Scout’s business, so he decided not to tell the others unless he had to. They really weren’t the type to badger Spy into cooking for them.

Jeremy felt so relaxed and lost in thought that he crawled right up in that bed without realizing it. It surprised him when he found himself curled up in his blanket. He hadn’t wanted to sleep in a hot minute, even on the night he cried. Aw Hell, he wan’t complainin.

————————-

The dream started out with an old recurring nightmare of his. It was one he’d gotten used to a long time ago, so it was more annoying than scary. Especially since he had to sit through it before anything interesting and new happened.

Jeremy dreamt that he died, and none of his stupid brothers cared. Ma was real upset, and trying to get his funeral and stuff sorted out, but none of his siblings would help. They definitely weren’t gonna cry over him. Cause he’s the runt. Runts die all the time, it’s just piddly women who bother to feel bad and save them. Whatever.

Since it was such an old dream, current Scout could still have his opinion on what was goin on, but his younger self was the character in the dream and reacted like he always did back then. He was cryin and trying to help Ma from beyond the grave, since there wasn’t a **** brother man enough to make it easier on her. And he didn’t know about Spy yet, so he wasn’t with the brothers ignoring Jeremy’s death.

It looked like Scout woke up, but all his stuff was laid out like when he first got hired at RED. He got up and went to the bathroom so he could splash water on his face and hide his tears. It worked, but he wasn’t getting a hold’a himself right so he wandered into the hall.

People were always used to Jeremy being loud. Most never knew he could be quiet. Younger Scout aimlessly made his way around base and tried not to wake the rest’a the team. Then he noticed a light.

Spy’s smoking room. The door was slightly cracked, so he could let smoke out and stink up the rest of base with it. But that meant Spy was awake, the only teammate who would be at that hour. Medic was crazy, but he’d never give up a chance to round up the doves and go to sleep to ‘em making their weird bird noises. Engineer needed all the sleep he could get. But Scout knew from those 6 months in prison that Spy didn’t sleep most nights.

His younger self hesitated near the door, tryin to decide whether he should be a baby and talk with Spy, or keep walkin. Before he could make up his mind, the door opened and he locked eyes with Spy. They stared at each other with the same amount’a surprise. Younger Jeremy choked out something, anything to fill the loud silence.

“Aw, crap. Am I that noisy?” “Not in the slightest. But people in this line of work learn to feel eyes on them.” **** invisible show off. Younger Scout nodded to try and play it cool, and started to walk away so the deadbeat couldn’t see he’d been cryin.

“Would you like to come in?” He paused. Older Jeremy remembered that he didn’t always know he could go in the smoking room, or that anyone else on the team was allowed in there. This must have been during that time, cause his younger self looked at Spy with hopeful eyes.

The musty, smokey wooden room was nothing special to the current Scout, but his younger self was looking around like a kid in a candy store. Spy pulled over another chair and gestured for him to sit. Young Jeremy did, but went quiet afterwards. He didn’t know what to say.

Back then, he was afraid that the other teammates would laugh at him like his brothers. Or worse, think he was so weak that he should be fired, and then he’d be back in Boston stuck in his cycle of getting hired and fired. And Ma probably wouldn’t be surprised. He couldn’t look Spy in the eye.

“I presume that whatever is bothering you, you would prefer not to speak of it with a shady Spy.” Not a selfish *** deadbeat like you. Older Scout thought. Spy looked at his side table and there was a smaller cutting board with meat, cheese and bread.

“Perhaps this is not a time for eating, but you’re welcome to this if you can stomach it.” Younger Jeremy didn’t say anything for a minute. “Nothin’s wrong. I just can’t sleep.” His voice was firm and harsh, but he and Spy didn’t believe his weak lie. Spy chose the fast-food parenting route of talkin even though Scout wasn’t in the mood.

”You would not be the first. Many mercenaries uninvolved in wars prior to joining RED have suffered nightmares when they arrive. The feeling of respawning is a difficult thing to get used to.” Jeremy flinched and stared into the fire. Spy shrugged and got up.

“I may have something that will help.” The old fart poured him a glass of scotch and offered it to him. Younger Scout hesitated to take it, knowin it was fancy stuff. “Trust me, there is nothing you could possibly do drunk in here that the Demoman or Soldier has not.” That convinced him enough to take the cup and down the alcohol like medicine. He found the fire more relaxing after it kicked in.

—————————-

Jeremy woke up with the dream still on his mind. That didn’t usually happen unless… it was one of those dopey “half-memory type dreams”. He stared at his door and groaned as he realized it was a real memory. Back in Siberia he had a more twisted dream about himself waddling around on the carpet as a baby, with his Ma and current Spy seducin each other. Gross.

He checked the clock and decided it was late enough that he could go to the training room without wakin folks up and getting yelled at. He’d go punch something and get this dumb memory out of his mind in no-time.

A few hours later, new Spy came in with a stabbing knife and no shirt. Jeremy didn’t look at first, but his stupid need to compare himself to other guys drove him to study Spy more close.

New Spy was tall and skinny, but he was no toothpick. He had abs and broad shoulders, with arm muscles that poked out more than Jeremy’s ever did. He hated the part of him who got jealous of people his age. At least with Sniper, he smelled like pee and looked old as Hell, so Scout could bury his annoying thoughts easier. Otherwise they never shut up.

Engineer came in, but not to train. “Scout? There’s somebody tryin’a call ya. You got time to answer?” He nodded. It was probably Ma callin to check up on him, or Pauling with a new task.

———————

Jeremy took a deep breath. Ma had probably heard from Spy about what happened, but she hadn’t tried to confront him over it. He wasn’t gonna complain about Spy or act pitiful about getting rejected by Pauling. Nobody knew about that, not even Ma. The nice thing was, if Pauling did call him and shut down any attempt to talk to her like she had always done before, he wouldn’t have to play normal so long.

“Hey, this is Scout. What’s up?” “Ay tiny! Guess who?” Kevin. One of his three crappier brothers. Ma musta tried to put him up to callin, so he could be nice for once and check up on him. He kicked himself for not calling her more the past few weeks, she musta been worried. They only bothered to speak to him if he was in Boston and failed to time it right so he could visit Ma in peace.

He wished it was Frankie or one of the other “I got better and now you’re all below me” brothers. They would at least pretend to care, on principle. But Kevin was still a gang member and all around jerk.

“Say hey, Danny and Pete are here too!” Oh great, all three gang brothers together to mock him in one place! “Dan. Petey.” Jeremy was starting to wonder if Ma was trying to tell Frank or somebody to call him, and his idiot brothers overheard. They probably stole her phone or locked her outta the house just to pull this. But maybe not. Maybe they weren’t in a chatty mood.

“Aw, don’t be like that pipsqueak, we’re ‘worried’ about ya! Ain’t we fellas?” Kevin said in his sarcastic tone. The others chimed in with just as fake’a friendliness. That meant they were definitely in a chatty mood. Whatever they knew, it mayst been hilarious to them. Jeremy needed to be ready to stop himself from reacting to their jabs.

“What do you want, Kev. I have work to do.” Scout was a lot better at lying now, and being over the phone helped. The sooner he hung up without giving them more ammo to make fun of him, the better.

“Heard ya finally found yer daddy. What kinda thing is he? A gnome? A bunny rabbit?” Yeah, Ma wouldn’t’a told them on purpose. He hoped she couldn't hear them, since she dated that bozo once. It wasn’t right to clown on Spy around her.

“He’s a cigarette, actually. One that got sun-bleached in a dirty parking lot. It’s a miracle I don’t smell like him.” They wanted him to get mad, and he wasn’t gonna give them the satisfaction. He needed to stay calm and keep firing back like it didn’t matter to him.

“Ay Mi-Mi, did ya stomp him into the pavement? I wanna see how that went down!” They were just gonna keep digging for a nerve the longer he talked to them. But if he hung up at the wrong time, It’d show that they’d found one. And then they’d never shut up.

“Naw, but he musta been scared that I was gonna; rolled right into a dirty sewer drain like a coward. Squealed like a piggy on his way out.” That turned out to be exactly the wrong thing to say. The phone erupted into mocking cackles and loudly echoed in the hall outside the training room.

“Bruh, he left! Oh my God, he still didn’t want ya!” Jeremy froze, which only left them without a response and let them know they had finally gotten to him. But he had to be quiet or he was gonna cry or start yelling, and that would only make them more satisfied with what they said.

More heartless laughter and insults rattled out of the phone, and Scout was so distracted that he didn’t notice new Spy until he leaned in to talk into the speaker.

“Oh bonjour, je m’inquietais du manque de batards dans la base.” He said it in a weirdly happy tone, like the young version of an old lady who people make fun of ‘cause she can’t hear em. Scout didn’t know much French, but he knew old Spy used to curse more in that than in English, and “batards” was one of the rarer ones.

Jeremy found himself handing over the phone and staring as the new guy got insulted by his brothers. Spy kept respondin by sayin things that had to be insults, but in that same goofy higher pitched tone. And what was funny was that his brothers were too stupid to figure it out. They just assumed he was a dumb foreigner that they coulda robbed if he was there in Boston.

“Hell yeah, keep talkin little man! You one’a Scout’s dopey friends or somethin?” This time, Spy turned to Jeremy right before replying. “Vous etes tellement immonde que vous plonger dans le beurre comme escargot creerait une bouillie brune. Rat des rues degoutant.” Newbie hunched over and curled his free hand like a big New York rat while he spoke.

Scout tried so hard not to snicker at that, but when his brother started running his mouth again, Spy swung his hips like a sassy lady and made the funniest face he’d ever seen in his life. He burst out laughing so hard that his annoying brothers could hear it.

“Ay! What’s so funny?” Spy leaned against the wall and then posed like a toddler with his butt out and his free arm dangling. “Mon Dieu, le petit frere t’a offense, mon petit cochon? Quel dommage qu’il s’amuse de tes reniflements.”

Jeremy could not stop laughing, and could barely breath. The new guy was still takin that fake cheerful tone with Kevin, who was getting angrier and angrier. And hearing him getting butt-hurt made him and the other two less… heavy on him. Not like they were scary, just less of a hurdle. They were getting clowned on by a skinny French guy with real long hair.

Young Spy walked like a sheepish and ditzy housewife from TV and cupped his hand over the phone, like he was tryin to stop the brothers from hearing. But he spoke up real good. “Oh la la, je crois que la poubelle est en train de s’offusquer. C’est preseque commes s’il pouvait me comprende!”

“Now listen here, you stupid Frenchie! I know you can understand us! What’s your problem?” Spy suddenly looked angry, and Scout realized he’d been angry this whole time, and mocking his brothers was how he’d been dealing with it. He started talking in pitch perfect English and his naturally deeper voice.

“No, you listen street filth. You have a wonderful brother that is a competent mercenary and good friend to his team. And I am very much thankful that we got him instead of any of you. How dare you talk to him like he’s nothing? You are lucky that I caught you instead of the others here, because I do not want you dead for this. But Scout has friends here that could outperform your precious gang and you, no contest.

Do not call this number again, do you understand? I know you will say something hateful and stupid, and somebody scarier than me will hear it and come after you. And believe me pal, this Mercenary company can make sure you’re never found. Adieu!”

And with that, Spy roughly hung up the phone. Jeremy couldn’t help but notice that he’d switched from his thick French accent to a perfect Bostonian one somewhere in the middle of his threat.

———————

Merriam got her phone back from her three problem sons, who were acting all jumpy. They said some crazy French guy got on the phone with them and threatened them about joking with Scout.

Something was wrong. Antoine would never threaten her boys, even though she knew they deserved it. But from the details she forced outta them, he was acting like his younger self. Back before they dated, they were already friends and he would go to the bar with her.

He used to do the “naive foreigner” routine on guys at the bar that tried to start fights or wouldn’t leave her alone. It freaked them out because he’d switch from a real cheerful harmless tone in French to dead serious and speaking proper English. He stopped doing that years ago.

Maybe that’s why he hadn’t contacted her in four weeks. She made up her mind to call his wife and let her know.

What did young Spy say to Scout’s trash brothers? [Used a translator, so this might be off.]

Oh hello, I was worried about the lack of *******s on base.

You are so foul that drenching you in butter like a snail would create brown slop. You disgusting street rat.

My oh my, did the little brother offend you piggy? How awful of him to be amused by your snorting.

Oh dear, I think the trash is getting offended. It’s almost like he can understand me!

#tf2 #dadspy #tf2 spy #tf2 scout #angst fanfic #sad lad hours #scouts ma

[ask-missparker]

How did we meet? / Marvel Blurb ⚔️

Pairing: Amelia x Nikolai

Extra characters: Phil Coulson

Timeline: Pre-Avengers and Pre-Agents Of SHIELD

--0--0--0---

I got this question asked by Jemma and Daisy a while back. Maybe Liane asked me before too, I don't remember. Anyways, so, I decided why not answer it here.

How did I meet my man, Nik..

Well, believe it or not, we met on a mission. Long story short, we were both somewhat fresh out of the academy. Nik got out way before I did and was already doing missions, so I came in a little later. I had gone on a couple myself either with Melissa in my ear as my guide or dead straight into a battle with Grant Ward.

So when I met Nik, we were both a bit more experienced. *she chuckles* It was actually Phil Coulson, who put us together on a mission beforehand. He must've saw a spark between us and wanted to bring up a challenges to have a face. Nikolai wasn't very pleased to be partnered up for a undercover trip to Brazil to scout and take down of the rich trade owners there. He wasn't very pleased in general.

He was cold and distant.

Because this was a light inside of him was gone in a way. Or so he thought.

You know how some days the clouds are all thick and patted together so you can't see the sky, nor the sunlight come flashing through? That was Nik.

I understood that something must've happened that took his sunshine away. I didn't ask at the time what it was. But I found out later on. But back to the story, we arrived at Brazil at a hotel and I was rather excited to be back in Rio because it was beautiful, even though I have a bit of a record there before I joined SHIELD. Ooops. We knew our assignment and our cover story, as we spent the whole day staking out together in this car outside the cartel's beach house, which is where we got to actually know each other.

I brought us food and drinks, trying to lighten up the mood with a few jokes here and there, let him get to know his partner for the trip a bit better. Nik did let me in on a couple of details on his life and half smiled telling me about his time traveling across the country with his parents. He cracked a small joke here and there but never a actual laugh or full blown smile of his just yet.

---0---

We went to the beach later on for a break, which allowed us to scout the place better and meet the area of people we might need to take down later on. I remember it was late, very late at night, and we were still at the beach.

We were making even more small talk, when I said some half handed comment about the mission and everything in-between, how we were paired up and whatnot.

I don't remember what it was. Probably something accidentally among those words that shifted the tone.

Because that's when I finally got a chuckle, which grew into a laugh for the rest of the night.

I saw that beauty of a cheeky smile of this, the same smile that would lead now into the rest of our trip together.

It became a lighter time afterward, as we went the next day to the man's beach house, his name was Richard Silva, dressed that day in other clothing for the invite. He was having a early get together, filled with women in bikinis, guards rounding the place, men jumping into the pool and his friends all dressed in white suits just like him.

The two of mingled, tangled with other guest and got some drinks in the process of the job. We then formed into the plan, heading south into finding all of the money stolen, calling for SHIELD backup who was there at the party themselves if things got too messy.

Which they did.

After getting the money, which meant tearing down a few walls and putting them in bags, Sliva's men came roaring and trying to strike down the agents. Us included. It was fight that lasted what felt forever.

As we were down one of the halls, almost to the safe zone, Nik was being hell a gunpoint as many other guards were surrounding in and other agents. It was a fight, a free for all at that point, as guns were blazing and knifes were being pulled out. I made the smart, but according Nikolai an idiotic one, to take the bullet for him.

The bullet went flying and I went racing as the bullet entered above my ribs but just below my belly button. I thought I had nothing to lose, and it wasn't worth an agent falling-especially my partner for that matter-to have them bleeding out. In my eyes Nik was too good to be died, being so young and not having anyone who ever cared enough for him to even make sure he was alright.

He lost his sunshine, he needed someone to show him that there was still good left in this world. Even if I was stupid enough to be the one to make the point to him.

---

Flash forward to a couple of hours later, I'm at the medical wing in the hospital. I had surgery and the mission was completed. I woke up laying in one of the bed to find Nikolai standing-well, sitting nearby my bedside after filling out some extra paperwork.

He was so angry at me, calling me an idiot and a couple of other things for taking that bullet for him. He was furious, curious and trying to understand why I did but then something hit him.

I remember I said, "You convinced yourself that everything you've been though, took away your humanity. But I think because of your humanity that you made it through.."

He didn't know how to express his emotions very well after that statement. He kept trying to block out my words as we bickered about the situation at hand, but he knew he couldn't. I was a little hurt by his words, trying to not get emotional but his face said it all.

Everything I needed to know, that we both needed to know.

He slowly kinda let me in, with what he told me, which I won't say on here. Because it's not my place, but he wasn't someone who was loved or shown much after his parents died. He was hurt. I told him that he may not see anything that I was saying at that moment, but there still is a light inside of him.

Then it finally clicked, he looked confused, very confused, but also feeling like there was someone who understood him. Gave him a chance. I have been on the other end of people not believing in me, so I let him know that I was there if he needed someone to talk to.

Even if I may be grumpy or annoyed, I was there to listen to him, even if I won't understand everything. I was there. That's what mattered.

---0--0--7---

----

—> Thanks for reading. That’s what I got! Comment down below with ideas and reblog your thoughts 

Tags: @missstrawbs2001 @purpleprincessonfyre @meiramel  @gcthvile @rickb-chaos @gaminggirlsstuff @wizzzardofoz @cherrysft @thechoooooosenone @luna-d-marsh@sherloquestea @rooster-84 and etc

#ask missparker #agents of shield #ask my ocs #marvel oc #spiderman oc #ask me something #nikmia #couple asks #marvel ask blog #answered asks #grant ward #marvel fanfiction #mcu fancast #agents of shield oc #mcu fic #oc x oc #phil coulson

[lexwritesgayshit]

Who else has read Light from Uncommon Stars by Ryka Aoki? Yeah, yeah, I started yet another book before finishing any of the others. Being a multi mood reader is odd but it's keeping me engaged lol

(Light spoilers)

I've seen so many people recommend this book, especially leading up to/after the Trans Rights Readathon, but surprisingly I've never seen anyone mention triggers. Usually I check, but for some reason I didn't for this book, and oof. Good reminder to always check! But its so good. It's so fucking good. I'm absolutely enamored with all three of the main characters. Especially Shizuka. Admittedly I was high as fuck when I started, and when it was mentioned that her nickname in the violin world is the Queen of Hell I just immediately fell in love. My gay heart got Abaddon from SPN vibes and couldn't take it.

Also, I hadn't read the description for like two months and kind of forgot it was sci-fi fantasy, so when Lan came into the picture at first I was like "are they just really committed to the theme of the shop?" Then went "no fucking way" when I remembered the genre. I don't think I've ever read a novel that blends sci-fi, fantasy, and contemporary elements so well. The title is so damn fitting! I'm crossing my fingers for a beautiful and complicated little found family with these women!

#light from uncommon stars #booklr #bookblr #I tag both bc I genuinely don't know which is the official community name on here and I'm not sure other people know either #reading community #book community #trans books #trans rights readathon #ryka aoki #lex reads #reading tag #light from uncommon stars commentary

[legoshi-plz]

Notice Me Part III

Pairing: Izuku Midoriya x Reader (eventually), Best! Friend! Shinsou Hitoshi x Reader

Summary: College AU. Reader feels like she’s constantly overlooked/ ignored and she’s made her peace with that.

Waning: See Chapter One.

A/N: I think this story is turning into a slice of life fic which I’m oddly okay with even though I’ve never written for that genre before. It’ll be a new and interesting experience for sure!

///////

Your last class ended on Friday evening and you found yourself filing out of the door with slight tension in your neck and relief at the weekend ahead. With no plans on your schedule, you were free to sleep in as late as you wanted and relax properly.

You mind drifted back to your plans from the previous weekend. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had so much fun with someone who wasn’t Shinsou or Tokoyami. Midoriya was so sweet and always so genuine about everything, being around him really had a way of letting you see the world through his eyes in a much more optimistic light. You’d been serious when you offered to hang out more and you found yourself secretly hoping he’d reach out.

Before you could even open the door to your dorm, you heard your suitmate’s shrill giggles outside the door. It wasn’t like her to entertain company in the suite common area, as she usually just took her friends straight back to her room but you didn’t begrudge her for it. She kept out of your hair most of the time to the point where you barely remembered she was there and she was sweet enough to let Shinsou in when you didn’t hear his knocks. Speaking of which....

“Y/N! Why didn’t you tell me your friend here was such a charmer?!” She squealed in delight the second you walked through the door. She was currently sitting on the sofa with her legs thrown over Shinsou’s lap, a smile donning her face that showed off all thirty-two of her teeth. Shinsou was smirking to himself as his hands trailed dangerously high on her legs and thighs.

“Took you long enough, thought you were never gonna show up. Been here almost thirty minutes, luckily I had company,” Shinsou looked quite smug and you couldn’t tell if you should turn around and give them some privacy or not.

“Don’t let me interrupt, I was just gonna head in early anyway,” you laughed with a slight awkwardness while turning to the door that led to your room.

“Like hell you are,” Shinsou stood, brushing off your suite-mate so that he could follow you into your room, barely throwing her a quick “catch you later,” despite cozying up to her for half an hour. Shinsou’s ego when it came to women was really unbelievable sometimes, it made you wonder why so many girls would put up with it but maybe they saw something in him (or at least in their attraction to him) that you just didn’t.

“Have you forgotten what tonight is? I’m feeling pretty generous so I’ll even let you pick the movie,” Shinsou made his way over to your bed and flopped down.

“We haven’t done Movie Night in weeks, hell last week we, and by we I mean I, worked on lab assignments the whole night,” you sat your backpack down by your desk.

“Yeah but that was last week. This week, we’re doing movie night.”

“One of your dates must have canceled on you, huh?”

“Y’know I could always walk across the hall and remedy that,” Shinsou smirked in that cruel way of his. He didn’t do it often but there would be the rare occasions where Shinsou would throw his prowess in your face to see how you’d react. As if to remind you of the stark difference between the two of you. He could get any girl he wanted without even trying, yet no guy would come within ten feet of you in a romantic way. These were facts you’d long since come to terms with and you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

“Be my guest, just try to keep it down, I’ve got some homework I need to catch up on,” you chuckled, sliding into your desk chair.

“Please, as if I’d ever touch a girl like her. Have you seen that face?” Shinsou scoffed, as if his hand wasn’t just creeping up her skirt not even ten minutes prior.

“I have actually. I think she’s quite pretty,” you hummed, getting out your laptop. You were serious about catching up on that homework even if he wasn’t.

“Well you’ve always had terrible eyesight and dogshit taste so I’m not surprised. Put that away, I already told you we’re having movie night. You can do your homework literally any other time,” you could tell by his whining he wasn’t going to let it go so you might as well cave now.

“Okay, okay, I’ll go make the popcorn then we can find something to wa- actually, does it have to just be us? I wanna invite someone else,” you picked up your phone, scrolling down to find Midoriya’s number.

“I already told you I’m not gonna screw your suite-mate, why do y-”

“I’m not talking about her, I’m talking about Midoriya,” you wondered if you should just call him but that felt a little too pushy so you settled for a generic ‘you busy?’ text.

“Hoping he’ll put in a good word for you with Todoroki? Or that he’ll bring him along? Honestly, Y/N, this is getting pretty pathetic,” You knew Shinsou’s annoyance was stemming from his concern for you as a friend but he was taking the tough love approach a little too far.

“Believe it or not; I actually like hanging out with Midoriya, you ass. We had fun last week.”

“Oh great, now you’re another fan girl for All Might Jr. I think I would’ve preferred if you just stuck to your guns with Todoroki,” you ignored Shinsou as you texted Izuku back. It seemed he was up for joining you two.

“It’s not like that, it’s just nice to have a friend who doesn’t have group leader ego,” you grumbled, putting your phone down.

“I never asked to be group leader, but you and Tokoyami weren’t exactly stepping up,” Shinsou smirked. He could be so full of himself sometimes, it was hard to imagine him as the same shy middle schooler you met all those years ago. But behind all that bravado, you knew he could still be sweet and a genuinely good friend even if he got embarrassed when people saw that side of him.

“I’m gonna go make popcorn. You can go ahead and find something, I wanna already have the movie ready with Midoriya gets here,” you stood and stretched, making your way to the kitchen.

“Hope Wonderboy likes horror movies,”Shinsou grumbled, grabbing your remote.

//////

AN: I know Shinsou’s kind of an asshole in this chapter but there’s a reason for it, I promise :) and I know I haven’t stated it explicitly in the story but Shinsou, Tokoyami, and Reader were all close friends while at UA and still are even though they don’t see Tokoyami quite as much because he has other friends and was never quite as close with Shinsou and Reader as they are with each other.

#izuku midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya x you #izuku midoriya x poc reader #izuku midoriya x black reader #bnha x black!reader #bnha x plus size reader #bnha x poc!reader #izuku

[stupid-sloot-headcanons]

Konbini

Word Count: 2000+

Remember how I said I always wanted to write fanfic shit with dialogue and an atmosphere like Kevin Smith's films?

CW: Sexual references, but nothing apart from that

Yuki's nonchalant voice broke the silence at the register (if you didn't count the quiet hum of the fluorescent lights on the ceiling).

"Did I ever tell you that my grandma fucked Gran Torino?"

Sayori blinked.

"Not that I recall," she replied. "When was it?"

Yuki unlocked the register and began counting out the leftover cash. "Don't know the exact date, but knowing her it was the 'good old days' when the entire bar was a smoking section and she didn't have to suffer looking at heteromorphs just living their lives."

Sayori smirked and felt her tail instinctively twitch. "So that's why I've never met her."

"That and she's been dead for six years. You might have liked her, though. Aside from the virulent racism, she was a nice lady."

"I'm sure Gran Torino'd agree. How did they hook up?"

Yuki slid the stack of ¥500 bills into its proper slot in the register drawer. "Apparently she was at a bar that turned out to be his favorite spot. They both order the same thing by pure coincidence: an Old Fashioned. They joked that it was fate."

"Was that the only Old Fashioned they enjoyed together that evening?"

"God no. She drank him under the table figuratively, and then literally. Torino, being the gentleman, escorted her to his hotel room and the rest was history. The next morning she woke up before he did and slipped her business card into his wallet. But every time he called she'd ignore it."

Sayori scoffed. "Your grandma ghosted Gran Torino?"

Yuki shrugged. "Apparently he wasn't all she thought he'd be."

Sayori fished a tube of lip gloss out of her fuzzy pink purse and carefully painted her upper lip; even with an applicator designed for people with rodent or lagomorph features, it was still a bitch to accurately put on without smearing it. "Well, he's what, 3 feet tall? If we're talking proportionally then she had to have known what she was getting into."

"Oh no, she said the sex was great," Yuki countered, returning the rest of the cash to the register and then typing the exact amount onto her phone. "Apparently he just wasn't that good at conversation. And she also said he used to be taller. Like…six foot seven or something."

"Holy shit, seriously!? What happened?"

"Consequence of his Quirk? Smoking and caffeine consumption over multiple decades? Hell if I know."

"Oh, come on," Sayori protested. "He's got a Jet Quirk, right? How does that translate to severe loss of bone density or shrinking?"

The entrance doors slid open with a happy chime, but the girls continued chatting without acknowledging the small group of customers in grey school uniforms.

Yuki pulled a scrunchie off of the long chain of ponytail holders adorning her wrists to style her hair. "We all know Quirks have all sorts of weird effects and ways of showing, 'Yori. Case in point: why is it that with my Keratin Rush, the only part of my body with a 1000% boost of keratin production is only my hair and fingernails? Not my toenails, not my skin, nothing. All the hospital tests and scans show my brain boosts the hormone everywhere in my body, yet only my hair follicles and fingernail beds that get the message."

"You'd rather have to file your fingernails, toenails, and hair while exfoliating every hour? Boss-man already complains that you take too long trimming your hair on your lunch break.

"If a fifteen-minute chop and trim every 8 hours bothers him so much, he can find someone else willing to work this shit job for shit pay, full time. I'm just saying, it's a lucky coincidence that the parts of my body that grow absurdly long are the ones that are generally considered attractive for women in society. No flaky and super hard skin like my dad, and I don't cut through my shoes every month thanks to any toe claws. He only wears sandals now because he got sick of it."

Sayori wrinkled her nose. "Couldn't he just trim them more regularly like you do for your hair and nails? How long was he waiting between filings that he'd cut through his fucking shoes?"

Yuki smiled. "You sound so much like my mom right now," she said with a wistful air. She put a hand on Sayori's shoulder "Hey. Tell me to do my homework and to stop slouching at the table. You're making me all nostalgic here."

Sayori raised an eyebrow. "I'd rather scold you for constantly coming in late and expecting me to cover for your lazy ass when you're too hungover to do a morning shift."

"Just as long as you let me know I'll never meet your standards, it works. Thanks, Mom."

"Ugh, don't call me that, creep."

"Wow, now you really sound like her. Anyway, my point is that Quirks have all sorts of nuances to them that don't always make sense. And the less we obsess over the logic behind it--or lack thereof--the better."

Sayori took out a rosy metallic compact to scrutinize and fix the curls in front of her face. "Kind of a microcosm for life, I guess."

"Or the government."

"Oh God, not this speech again."

"Which one?"

"Any of them. The last time you went off about Pro Heroes being in bed with the government as…what was it? 'A homunculus of police, corporate sponsor, celebrity, and idol rolled into one pile of spandex-clad shit?'

"Actually most Heroes don't wear spandex," Yuki interjected. She uncapped a bottle of soda she'd stashed on one of the shelves by the register and took a sip. "Rips too easily."

"Guess you should revise your rant, then. I remember you saying spandex--I bet the customer who complained about you to the manager remembers, too."

Yuki scowled. "Oh, so suddenly Boss-man cares about customer input? Where was this dedication when people complained about the dirt on the floors, busted merchandise on display, expired milk in the containers for up to a week–"

"Not to mention the unhelpful staff," Sayori added.

"You can't help people of this caliber for minimum wage. Whoever said the customer was always right never worked in the service industry a day in their life." Yuki leaned against the wall behind her as she drank. "How many times do you get insulted and belittled just for shit you can't control? I've gotten called a highway robber because some Skittles cost ¥200, and then I'm a liar for saying we have Skittles when she wanted Tropical Skittles. She didn't even ask if we had Tropical Skittles."

"Would you rather deal with that or drunk guys trying to hit on you? Seriously, if I hear one more asshole ask if I have a 'real cottontail' and solicit me with carrot sticks, I'm gonna show them what kind shit a hare can do."

The green-haired boy stepped up to the counter. "Um, excuse me, I'm ready to pay," he said quietly.

"You're excused," Sayori replied. "If you're paying cash, you can go to her and if it's card, you can come to me."

The boy moved to pay with Yuki, and some of the other students started to come to the register as well. One girl with a long black ponytail approached Sayori and bowed politely.

"I'm sorry, I'm trying to decide what snacks to get but I've never had anything from a convenience store," she explained sheepishly. "What would you recommend?"

Yuki rung the green-haired boy up and counted out his change, and Sayori chewed her lip to hide her smirking. "Wow, nobody's asked me for my opinion at work before," Yuki remarked.

"That's never stopped you," Sayori replied slyly.

"The salmon in our onigiri is pretty good. But the mayonnaise in the tuna ones are usually kinda sour, so I'd steer clear. Oh, and the chicken tenders we have are good. Since it's your first time, I'll give you the premium Happy-Mart experience and actually make sure they're heated up all the way through. Plus an extra container of sauce--just don't choose the mayonnaise, obviously."

The young girl actually took this seriously. "Oh, thank you! But I was actually wanting some snacks that I could enjoy at home with my friends, like Pocky or chips."

"My sincerest apologies on behalf of my ignorant coworker's suggestion," Sayori replied gravely. "If you want sweets, then the chocolate mushroom-shaped cookies are a classic choice. We've also got some flavor variety, like strawberry, banana, and matcha cream."

"That sounds perfect, thank you! I'll go fetch some in every flavor, just to try them all--oh, and whatever my friend here would like, I'll pay for them." The brown-haired girl next to her blushed--or were those pink marks on her cheeks already there?

"Momo, I can pay for myself," she insisted. "I'll just get a bottle of lemonade."

Momo frowned. "Ochaco, I already told you, it's my treat! I want to reward you for doing so well after studying with me. You got a near perfect score on that English test, so let's celebrate as friends! Get whatever you'd like."

Ochaco was silent for a moment, but then jumped to hug Momo with a huge grin and a bit of anticipatory drool. "You're a saint, Momo-chan!" She took off down the aisles with a wire basket in hand.

Momo took a few steps, but then stopped and turned back to face the cashiers. "By the way, do you accept Platinum Diamond card? If not, I think I have a few Discovery ones that should work…"

"Oh, our Diamond card reader's broken," Yuki replied without skipping a beat. "Damn repairmen are trying to unionize, you know how it is. Discovery's acceptable, ma'am." She handed the green-haired boy his bag with a wry smile. "Hey, kid. Make sure she doesn't make eye contact with anyone around here until you're back on the right side of the tracks, okay?"

The young boy nodded, and Sayori glanced at his shopping bag. "Guess you didn't do so well on that test, if you're paying on your own. Or are you a chivalrous type who wants to pay his own way?"

He looked down inside the bag shyly. "O-Oh, this stuff isn't for me," he replied. "Well, except the All Might protein bars, but that's just for the collectible sweatband in the box. The rest is for my mentor. He's an old--um, older man, so he likes candies that are soft and chewable like these."

"Well, aren't you a sweet protégé," Sayori replied with a smile. "Don't work too hard, 'Kay? Otherwise you'll get burned out and end up like us."

The boy awkwardly nodded. "Um, no problem! Honestly, I probably should rest and relax more often. His training is definitely intense, haha. Sometimes I'm amazed he can move around so fast and is so strong at his age. Then again, he was taller when he worked as a Pro…" He trailed off as he murmured to himself. "Maybe his Quirk had adverse affects on his skeleton or reversed his height after not using it as often as he did in his prime? Or maybe it led to his body changing to adapt to his speed, since smaller and lighter objects move faster than large ones…"

The others checked out soon after, with both girls carrying stuffed bags filled with all sorts of cookies, chips, and onigiri. Yuki and Sayori leaned back on the counter.

"Nice kids," Yuki said. "Hope they stay that way after graduating the Hero course."

"So those were UA uniforms," Sayori remarked. "And did you hear him talking about his mentor? A short old guy that used to be a tall Pro Hero…you think it's Torino?"

Yuki was silent, but then sprinted outside onto the street. She caught the trio of students and cupped her hands to her mouth. "HEY, GREEN-HAIRED HERO KID!"

The boy jumped up and spun around. "Y-yes!?"

"Ask your mentor what is favorite drink is! If it's an Old Fashioned, tell him that Mayumi didn't ever call because he was boring as shit! And her next of kin want her panties back!"

#.bnha #bnha #.oc #bnha oc #.myshit

[theartofimagining13]

Requests open???? HERE I AM.

5, A and II with Mads, maybe?

I believe in your magic, woman! ❤️

AMBIENCE: Storm

WRITTEN BY: A.Wölf.

Mads was in his study surviving the most sleepless night of his entire life.

The only source of light in the room was coming from the dancing flames in the fireplace and the occasional lightning that lit up the sky in the midst of one of the worst storms the town had ever seen; it seemed to resemble his mood. He was facing the big window behind his desk while sitting in his brown leather swivel chair, and he was deep in thought, replaying every single moment he had shared with you. He even wondered if you’d like his gray hair now but none of it mattered. The memories were only making him angrier.  He had been gone for so long and he couldn’t believe that on his first day back he had learned that you now belonged to someone else.

You had shared a troubled past with this dangerous man. Loving Mads was life’s ultimate thrill but also a curse. When it was good, it was out of this world but, when things went sideways, he could get so dark, and yet, somehow, he had convinced himself that you would wait for him. After he pissed off the wrong people, he had to leave town knowing that he could only return if they ceased to live, or else he would be the one who’d end up six feet underground. You thought that if he truly loved you, he wouldn’t have messed with them in the first place, but that was the thing about Mads; he was recklessly in love with his job, and sometimes, people had to be provoked.

You only learned what he had done when he called you from the train station and with a one-way ticket in hand. There was no proper goodbye because he didn’t want to put your life at risk. He could only thank his lucky stars for the fact that the bad guys had no clue about you and a heartbreaking call would have to suffice.

Time changed Mads. He had to hide for so long on the other side of the world and he tried to find you in other women, miserably failing each time and sinking further and further into bitterness. He hated not being able to see you, to touch you, to kiss you. You used to get random calls at night and you would pick up and not hear a single sound on the other line but you knew that it was him. Hearing the sound of your voice was relieving at first, but then the calls stopped because he couldn’t take it anymore; you were the only thing that mattered, and the one thing he couldn’t have.

“Sir?”

Mads snapped out his trance at the sound of his right-hand man’s voice. The young man had entered his study and, only then, he remembered that he had called him there to make a request. Mads slowly rotated the chair and looked at all the photographs of you scattered on his desk and that his private eye had given him as soon as he got off the plane; pictures of your new life. One he thought he was supposed to be a part of instead of the man, the impostor, holding your hand and kissing your temple in each one of them.

Men had to die for him to come back safely; it simply could not be a coincidence that he had returned just a day before your wedding. So he sure as hell wasn’t going to let it happen.

Mads knew exactly what to do to get your attention.

He just had to do one little thing and he knew you’d get the message, unsigned even and you’d still know who you got it from. You’d have no choice but to call everything off because you’d understand that he was back, and you also know what he’s capable of for he had even joked about it once; “If you ever leave me for another man, I will kill you”. And maybe Mads from the past might’ve been joking in all his young glory, but this older, ruthless Mads kept his promises. So he looked at his right-hand man in the eye and handed him a piece of paper with your name and address on it before uttering the six magic words of the one warning you needed.

“Send her a funeral flower arrangement.”

#Thanks for your request! <3 #Mads Mikkelsen #Prompt list requests

[waltwhitmansbeard]

Third and last (sorry, you can ignore any and all of them of course), 🩸 (patching up a wound) with Vax and Scanlan. Could be romantic or platonic (though I'd prefer platonic like… 60/40?) Author's choice for who gets hurt. (thank you ^^)

Send me emoji(s) and I'll write a drabble def platonic bc this is not at all a ship for me lol

It's chaos in Greyskull Keep as the wounded tend to the wounded. Beyond these walls, Emon burns, but Scanlan can't think about that, not when he's surveying the sea of injuries before him. Pike's doing what she can, which is a hell of a lot more than he can do, and mostly he's just afraid of getting in the way, of making things worse.

So he slips off toward the kitchens, thinking maybe he can help get some food prepared for all of the refugees they're sheltering, but before he gets there, he sees Vax over in a corner, hunched in on himself. Scanlan approaches with a frown. "You alright?"

Vax glances over his shoulder, and the twisting allows Scanlan to see the roll of gauze Vax is wrapping around his forearm. "Yeah, I'm good."

Scanlan sighs. "Let me help."

He's expecting a fight, which is why he's surprised when Vax acquiesces, turning toward Scanlan and handing over the gauze. Scanlan has to stand on his tiptoes to wrap it around and around a visible burn mark on Vax's arm. "You get this outside?"

"To be honest, I can't remember. This has been the longest day of my life."

Scanlan snorts. "Yeah, I feel that." He chews on his lips. "This feels big." Is that the stupidest thing any person has ever said ever? "I mean...bigger than us. Bigger than what we can handle."

Vax tips his head back against the wall of the keep with a sigh. "Yeah. It does. But what are we going to do? Not handle it?"

He's got a point. Scanlan's enjoyed their status at heroes of the realm, whatever the hell that means. It just wasn't until now that he's really realized that that status comes with responsibilities like fighting four motherfucking dragons. "We'll probably die trying, you know."

The ghost of a smile lights the corner of Vax's mouth. "Always wanted to go out in a blaze of glory."

"I always wanted to die in the middle of an orgy with busty Zemnian women and an all-you-can-eat buffet."

"There's still time."

Scanlan gapes in mock surprise. "Never took you for an optimist!"

Vax laughs before drawing serious again. "Well, we'll need optimism if we're going to get through this. Can I count on you to keep their spirits up? Keep them from falling into the pits of despair?"

Scanlan senses that Vax knows those pits all too well. "Only if you promise to charge headfirst into danger in an misguided attempt at keeping the rest of us from getting hurt."

He huffs out another laugh. "Deal."

Scanlan finishes wrapping up the wound. "You know, you really should have Pike take a look at that. I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing."

"Theme of the day, apparently." Vax scoops him up in a hug, ignoring Scanlan's squeaks of protest. "Don't die on us, yeah? Too many songs in that gross brain of yours that need to be shared yet."

Despite his distaste over being picked up, Scanlan hugs Vax back. "I'm not the one I'm worried about." It's a lie—Scanlan is very worried about himself—but he means it all the same. Vox Machina is facing down a fucking apocalypse, and he knows that Vax, dumbass hero that he is, will be the first in line to lay his life down if someone doesn't keep an eye out for him. If it has to be Scanlan, then so be it; Vax isn't the only one willing to do dumb shit to keep his friends alive.

#me #Anonymous #critical role #critical role fic #cr fic #vox machina #vox machina fic #scanlan shorthalt #vax'ildan #my fic

[silver-wield]

A japanese account I'm ff is cracking me up. Saying if the aerith who is smiling at the flower is a back stabbing bish, then her smile in part 1 is psychopathic. And anybody enjoying that "concept" are people who only enjoy cheap daytime dramas. Since her reputation in OG is already questionable, this time it could be worse because they're trying to paint her as this "good friend" to both tifa and cloud whom she knows full well are into eachother. I think it's mostly women who notice that perhaps? A lot didn't remember aerith's toxic personality in OG so they don't understand why some are worried if SE will disrespect the characters even more.. I also don't want tifa to look like a doormat who accepts anything simply because she's too pure and kind. Soldier cloud is also pitiful because I'm sure he doesn't want to be in any other situation other than with tifa. The game will come out very close already, I'll see what's up. But I can concur w/o a doubt, that regardless of what aerith does, she won't be given a good light. She may use soldier cloud as therapy then get back to zack later. Yet that only hurts all the other three. Also make those who "like" her, who self insert themselves in the game, hate her. Devs should clarify in gongaga what's up with her. I also don't want her to make a pact with tifa like they're "friendly rivals" because wtf hell no.

Only thing I can say is, SE, it's obvious you have difficulty dealing with her incomplete character in OG, wanting to expand that. But this isn't a way to do it. Give her her "role", and this ain't it. While the world is dying, why would i care about the love life of a woman who's about to die and has zero to do with the story? Focus on the planet! Even tifa doesn't do that, she's currently only looking after cloud w/o taking advantage of him. Pssh and they call some of us tifa fans sleeping on aerith's story when she should wake up first! 😡.

Srry for the rant. Reading that jp account's thoughts, I really don't want a messy story. Soldier and Real Cloud are both devoted only to Tifa and I want Tifa to have better friends!

Seems like from a man's pov it's not bad to have women being two faced bitches because they're fighting over a man and that strokes his ego, but for all the women players, which is such a bigger amount than SE realises, it's fucking disgusting and we want nothing to do with characters or storylines like that. It doesn't make us sympathetic to Aerith because oh no she sad so she should hug a man who ain't hers, it makes us want to put her in a rocket and blast her into the sun.

SE and the devs need to understand we don't want that shit.

Side note, I'm really looking forward to Aerith dying so I don't have to put up with her annoying whiny voice or fake ass singing voice in part three.

#ship war #for the fandom

[maiahhhpie]

IS IT OVER NOw?

dazai osamu x chuuya nakahara

exes soukoku , inspired by taylor's 1989 vault track

notes: very messy.. erm very slight angst and fluff

` Let’s fast forward to three hundred takeout coffees later

I see your profile and your smile on unsuspecting waiters

You dream of my mouth before it called you a lying traitor

You search in every maiden’s bed for somethin’ greater, baby

the boss was in a good mood today to give us a day off in the port-mafia. i don't know why i decided to spend my time going to this cafe. maybe i should've stayed hidden in my wine cellar getting drunk, so i wouldn't see you.

i wouldn't see you right now, flirting with every waitress. caressing their hands like they are the most delicate thing you've held instead of mine.

you charm them with your looks like a pro.

are you doing this for a mission for the detective agency? but i would've noticed others from the ADA if it was. are you doing this because you're that of a womanizer? or you knew i was going here? it's not like i care.

the second i look away, i could feel your gaze on me, trying to say something. wanting something from me.

i sighed. standing up from my seat, leaving money on top of the table. as i left the cafe, i was able to catch you staring at me.

you would never think twice about being in bed with any women. when it comes to me...

Was it over when she laid down on your couch?

Was it over when he unbuttoned my blouse?

"Come here," I whispered in your ear

In your dream as you passed out, baby

Was it over then? And is it over now?

we have something, both of us are all aware of it.

did you intend it all to end? yet you failed to. the nights between us would flood my mind every time i sink into my bed.

"chibi, come here.." you call me softly. patting the empty space beside you. i hate the way your voice tames me, and i do end up listening to you.

you caress my cheek, as if I'm human. i completely drowned myself with your touches and whispers that only i could hear. only i could remember the nights we were still there.

because i'm well aware these were just dreams.

When you lost control (Uh-huh)

Red blood, white snow (Uh-huh)

Blue dress on a boat (Uh-huh)

Your new girl is my clone

to another day, we met each other again. using corruption just so i could save you. you thought it was beautiful. i couldn't even believe myself that i still trust my life on you with just one single touch. it makes you forget we aren't partners anymore.

fucking hell. my mind couldn't think of anything else. i stare at you tirelessly as you smirk at me with your hair behind your ear. wearing a suit and coat, white as snow.

"you wouldn't mind your outfit being stained with red, yeah?" i was able to groan out.

"yeah, yeah so go get some rest, chuuya." petting my head softly. i started to feel even more tired as i heard dazai hum a tune. since when could this mackerel sing?

maybe i should appreciate it this time while he isn't commenting things to piss me off. and the boss would make someone carry me back to the base soon after all this.

And did you think I didn't see you? There were flashin' lights

At least I had the decency To keep my nights out of sight

Only rumors 'bout my hips and thighs

And my whispered sighs

Oh, Lord, I think about jumpin' Off of very tall somethings

Just to see you come runnin'

And say the one thing I've been wanting, but no

it feels like a fever dream. i smile softly at your sleeping figure. we continued to stay like this until the sun started to rise, illuminating our faces. atsushi comes up to me, finally defeating the enemy. i smoothly picked up chuuya in bridal style.

"you guys did well. if anyone will be looking for me, atushi, tell them i'll be doing something quick." i said before leaving,

and took him to his place.

if you were awake, i wouldn't be brave to hold you like this. close to me. to adore your features.

after i left, the only news you would hear about me are the ones where i would spend my nights with women. the continuous rumors about my body, the way it pleasures them.

you know none of those are true. is it over now to reassure you of any of that?

god, i might just jump off a tall building over again. and will fail over and over.

i want to see you come for me. tell me how i'm an asshole i was for leaving you. tell me how i'm all grown to make a better decision, and this wouldn't have happened. i want to hear you say you're still hoping for me. those 3 words i could only say to you, chuuya.

and maybe this man would be able to face his feelings that never changed.

but we both know none of us has the courage to say anything about it.

Let’s fast forward to three hundred awkward blind dates later (Oh)

If she’s got blue eyes, I will surmise that you’ll probably date her (Oh, no)

You dream of my mouth before it called you a lying traitor (Oh)

You search in every model’s bed for somethin’ greater, baby

i woke up on my bed. the lights were dimmed, but i was able to figure out the person looking at my wine rack. dazai.

"good morning, chuuya." he greets me, not even sparing a glance.

"why the hell are you here.."

"because i carried you back here.

—and don't you miss me?" he continued.

"miss you? why do you think i would?" i sat up from my bed, looking at him irritated.

no answer. "shouldn't you be the one missing me? do you miss me dazai? have you ever thought about me after leaving me behind?"

"—are you still that of a fucking coward to admit that to me even if were alone in the same room we used to lay down next to eachother?" i continued.

i stay silent again, waiting for him to at least say something. i could've kicked him out of my place right now, but no. i don't want this interaction to end just yet. i don't want any of this over. i want something different to happen.

i need him to say something.

just this once, i will be desperate. my patience running thin. and thinner.

dazai, don't disappoint. i might be asking, begging you this for the last time.

Was it over when she laid down on your couch?

Was it over when he unbuttoned my blouse?

“Come here,” I whispered in your ear

In your dream as you passed out, baby

Was it over then? And is it over now?

i thought about this most of the time, especially skipping meetings in the agency. i thought i could handle it. i could just whisper it to him since i was that of a coward. but in panick, as i saw an inch of his movements, i had to say it now.

"i do. i miss you

so much

i still and always think about you, chuuya." gently reaching for his hand so he would focus on me.

i'm saying it now chuuya, don't give up on me. let's listen to each other for a moment before all of this would end up to nothing.

the slightest eye contact from him gave me hope. "you aren't the reason why i left. you are the one who gave me the reason to stay alive. your whole being stained my every memory and soul, and i don't regret it at all."

i stare at him for a while. leaning closer to him.

he stays silent. "i still care for you. you have been the only one who i'd let touch any part of me. no one else. none of those rumors are true."

it's been so long since we've been this close. the way your beautiful eyes look at me in such a soft way. "i still forget my name, i still feel my breath stop when i'm so close to you. i love you, chuuya. i continue to and it might never end."

my hands reach for his cheek. softly carresing it.

"chibi, i love you so much." i whispered.

i lean in to give a long-awaited kiss that startled him a bit. as if we were fifteen again when i first confessed, i was blushing.. like crazy. that time, he thought i was joking, but when i couldn't utter a single word after it, the realization made his face become red too.

in the same way our faces are so close to each other. none of us has moved away since the past few minutes. time didn't stop. It just got longer. maybe, just so that we could continue to be this close.

the room continued to be silent, i could hear our hearts beating faster. our heart, the proof that both of us are humans that could love.

i give him gentle pecks on his face, thinking it would slow it down. it only made my whole being realize how much i missed him even more.

and more.

until he pulled me closer to give me a kiss, too.

if these were one of my dreams again, i just hope that nobody in the agency would be waking me up for a meeting

Flashin’ lights, Oh, Lord, Oh

Let's fast forward to three hundred takeout coffees later (Oh)

(Flashin' lights) I was hoping you'd be there

And say the one thing (Oh, Lord)

I’ve been wanting (Oh, Lord)

—but no

i'm still here lying down on the bed with chuuya. so close. we were whispering the most random things to each other. giggling. it feels so soft. i feel so happy. "i love you too, dazai"

"chuuya, don't go"

"for the past few hours, i haven't moved a single bit since you've passed out after i kissed you back." he said slumping his head back to my chest.

end. ♡

#soukoku #bungo stray dogs #bsd #chuuya nakahara #dazai osamu #bsd chuuya #bsd dazai #dazai x chuuya #fluff #slight angst