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#i promise i'm working on things I just also have a job that takes up like all my time and energy and life force
rottenapplefae · 2 months
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making out?? in my kymerian cuirass???
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daddy-socrates · 7 months
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i've sent my thesis poster and zoom link to two of my undergrad professors, hoping they have a forwarding email for the retired professor whom i blame for my whole second degree in this shit
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luulapants · 1 year
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Existential despair is so common in a person's twenties, I think, because up until that point, we've had a pretty clear road map for what's expected of us and we haven't had much reason to question that map. There are still a few milestones outlined for us (start a career, get married, make babies) but more and more young people are entering the post-school world and realizing:
A) that career thing just isn't happening like they said it would
B) I'm not ready to get married/I don't want to get married/marriage isn't the sort of life-altering event that it used to be
C) I'm not ready to make babies/I don't want a baby/I can't afford to raise children right now (see point A)
And in the absence of these milestones to shoot for (which one could argue weren't the promise of fulfillment they claimed to be in the first place), what we're left with is this aimless abyss of "the rest of our lives" sprawling out ahead of us with no indication of how it will go or what we should be doing to shape it. Young people start their first jobs, find they hate them, and think to themselves, "Is this it? Am I just supposed to do this job until I'm too old to do it or die first?"
Which is, yeah, really fucking depressing!! So here's my best attempt at an alternate roadmap for young people that don't vibe with the old model. Please feel free to add in your own suggestions!
Learn how you work and what you want out of a job. Unless you've been in a job-specific training program that gives you hands-on experience, your first jobs should be experiments. Learn how a full-time job feels for you, what elements are more or less difficult. Different workplaces have different cultures and expectations - what do you need out of a job environment? Do you need to find fulfillment in your job or is it enough for it to pay the bills and leave you time to find outside fulfillment? Do you want to climb a corporate ladder or are you content to hunker down as long as your bills get paid? This period of experimentation is exhausting and may feel like it's consuming your whole life.
Learn how to make time for things outside of work. Adapting to a full-time work environment often leaves you feeling so drained that you can't do anything but go home and collapse on the couch every day. That's fine - for a little while. But it can also become a habit. You need to learn how to do things after work or you'll go crazy. Go to a trivia night. Start an exercise schedule. Take a class in your community. Find volunteer work. Join a band. You will find that putting more things into your day makes you feel like you have more time, not less.
Find a community. Making friends as an adult can feel impossible. Where do you find these mysterious friends everyone seems to have?? This goes along with #2, though. As you start regularly attending the same activities, you will find that repeat interactions with the same people turn into friendships or at least friendly acquaintances. Say yes to invitations. Get involved in your local community. Strive to be connected enough to bump into people at the grocery store.
Unlearn bad lessons. We all internalize some messed up things when we're growing up. As you start off your adult life, that's the time to actively work at unpacking the things you've brought with you from childhood and deciding which things are helping you and which things are harming you. This might mean therapy or joining a spiritual group or reading new things or just making special time to be in your own head.
Learn the lessons you missed. In this, I mostly mean practical things. "Adulting." Areas of your day-to-day practical life that are causing you extreme stress are probably related to a knowledge or experience gap. Do you hate cooking and cleaning or were you not taught how to do it properly? Are you afraid of making medical appointments or is it just something new you're not used to? Does money make you queasy or do you need to learn how to make a budget?
Find something fulfilling. This can be your job. It can be volunteer work. It can be faith. It can be a hobby. It can be creating things. It can be challenging yourself physically. It can be activism. It can be going for walks in nature. Everyone finds fulfillment in different places. If you're not finding it where you are, look somewhere else.
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more sunshine! gojo and grumpy!f reader pleaseeeeeeee I ship so hard
you got it baby
her rage keeps him going.
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summary: gojo satoru is trying to get his grumpy girlfriend's attention by flirting with another girl at a party. wrong move. pairing: sunshine!gojo satoru x grumpy!female reader content warnings: jealousy, reader being a badass, gojo being madly in love, cursing, adult themes at the end, borderline toxic gojo satoru?
Masterlist
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"Baby."
"Baby."
"Baby."
"Sugarpie."
"Honeybunch-"
"Yes, Satoru?" You sigh, trying to finish the report you need to give Yaga. The frown deepens on your forehead as Satoru moves to sit in front of you, head leaning in, blocking your view of the paper completely.
"Sato-"
"Let's watch a movie." He blatantly says. "I'm bored."
You take a deep breath, pushing his head away. "I'm kind of in the middle of something, Toru."
Recently Yaga has been giving you more reports to fix. It's the kids' reports that are either too messy or filled with too many unnecessary details. It keeps on piling and piling and piling on top of your own work and you barely have time to do... anything, really.
And Satoru being Satoru, is not interested in paperwork. So you have to pick up his share as well, and it's sending you over the edge.
"Come on~" He whines, "It's been a while since you and I spend time together."
"We live under the same roof," You counter, "We go home and leave for work together every day."
He huffs, "It's not the same and you know it."
You sigh, promising him you'll watch something with him soon, but of course, you being busy, it gets forgotten. And it stays that way for a few days until the spring break party Jujutsu High decides to have.
You haven't properly talked to Satoru since then. You know he's upset that you've been so busy, but there's honestly not much you can do. You can only hope he understands and he'll be a bit more patient until things die down at work.
But of course, it doesn't happen that way.
You have to attend the spring break party just as Satoru is also required to. There aren't many people to begin with, but there are some new faces. New and pretty faces.
Stepping into the hall, you cringe at the sight. The higher ups are looking to create a new impression on the new students. It seems they want to look more approachable and 'trendy', seeing how the hard way didn't work so much with your and Satoru's generation.
It looks like a really bad frat party.
"What in the world..."
"Just drink." Shoko hands you a tequila shot while she downs one herself, "We've done more than enough these past few weeks, who cares what this party is about."
You drink the shot and cringe even more at the sharpness. "Oh God- this is horrible."
"It'll get the job done," Shoko chuckles, already downing her second shot.
Sighing, you scan the room to find Satoru. You figure with the spring break coming, you'll have more free time and you both can finally take a vacation together. As an apology for being so busy lately, you've bought tickets and you want to surprise him.
"Hey, have you seen Sato- Oh you've gotta be kidding me."
In your eyesight is Satoru talking very closely to a woman. She's not anyone you know, but from her body language, she's not anyone you want to know. Your eyes squint to assess the situation -- maybe you're overthinking this? Maybe she's just like Miwa, she just admires him- nope. That hand slowly trailing up and down Satoru's arm is not friendly at all.
And Satoru is allowing all of this?
"Shoko," You call her, "Let's go play darts."
"Uh-oh."
Satoru's doing it on purpose. He knows it will irritate you, and he knows technically he shouldn't be doing this, but you've been so busy lately and he's desperate for your attention.
Borderline toxic? Maybe, but again, he's desperate.
And it's not like he's interested in this girl who's talking to him about something she did the other day -- he can't even remember her name. But when he sees you shooting glares his way, a small smirk plays on his lips because he knows he's caught your eye.
He just didn't expect you to take it into such extreme measures.
One second you're sitting by the bar with Shoko, and suddenly there's a red dart that whooshed its way between Satoru and this girl. The dart is right in front of her eyes, almost scratching her nose.
"Oops," He hears the threat in your tone despite the smile on your face. "Looks like I missed my mark."
"By a mile..." Shoko mutters. The target board isn't even anywhere near where Satoru is standing.
You make your way to Satoru and the girl whose face has turned white. "I'll just take that-" you pull the red dart that's quite stuck in the wall, but not before sparing the girl a cold glare, "and if you'll excuse us, I'd like to have a little talk with my boyfriend here."
Satoru lets you drag him by the arm outside. To be completely honest, he's quite turned on. Seeing your possessiveness over him, your rage, your jealousy, he wants all of it.
"Are you done acting up- mmp!"
Satoru pulls you to him, his hand keeping your neck in place so he can kiss you properly while also not letting you escape. He forces his tongue into your mouth, taking your breath away completely.
"Satoru-"
He shushes you, lifting you from the ground to sit on the bench, your legs straddling his waist while still making out with you.
"I'm not done talking-" You finally push him away with a pant. "What's gotten into you?!"
You notice something poking your ass and you slap his shoulder, "Are you seriously getting turned on right now?!"
"Mm, baby," He tries to kiss you again, "You know I love it when you yell at me."
You scoff and grab his chin roughly. "So you did all of that just because you wanted some attention?"
Satoru gulps.
"Are you really that needy, Satoru? Hm?" You tilt your head, peeling his blindfold off. "I guess I have been neglecting you and your needy cock for a while, huh?"
He nods helplessly.
"I guess it is partially my fault for leaving you unattended for so long," Your hand travels down to grab his cock through his pants. "But just so we're clear, Satoru... don't ever pull that shit again, understand?"
He moans and nods his head again.
"Good." You peck his lips, "You're mine. And I don't let anyone just touch what's mine."
Satoru could come right then and there.
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roosterr · 8 months
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Hi idk if you're accepting requests but I literally just read the amnesia fic, and I was wondering if I could request where reader suddenly remembers everything, and sprints around base trying to find them, and just jumps on them crying and apologizing for forgetting them. Just some really fluffy comfort? It's okay if you don't want to write this lol
the 141 when you have amnesia – p2
note: i have received your therapy bills :)
wc: 5.2k
warnings: still a bit angsty I'm sorry I couldn't resist, fluff, hurt/comfort, mild injury and blood, happy endings for all I promise
ao3
[part one]
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price
✹ john thought your initial reaction was a good sign. you seemed to be taking things well, considering the extent of your injuries, and it was only a matter of time before your memories returned.
✹ your spirits are high when you're reintroduced to the team, and though you don't remember them either you do say they feel familiar, which he takes as a good sign for your recovery.
✹ when you're finally discharged, he takes you home, to the house that the two of you bought together. he shows you the photos of the two of you that decorate the walls, fondly retelling the stories of each one to you even though you were there, and these are your pictures.
✹ if you notice the way he chokes up when you get to your wedding photos, you don't say anything.
✹ like the true gentleman he is, he insists on sleeping on the sofa and leaving you to take the bed, despite your protests about it being his home too. even though you were receptive, he would never risk making you uncomfortable by sleeping in the same bed when he was, essentially, a stranger.
✹ in all your years of marriage, he's never slept on the sofa before. the two of you rarely go to bed without each other, apart from the times you're separated by your job, and consequently he finds himself not getting much rest.
✹ you're still on leave while you're physically recovering from being in a coma, so john has to go to work without you every morning, something he also hasn't done since you got married. he wishes he could bring you with him anyway, just to have you near him, but he knows that's selfish and you still need time.
✹ the base is dull without you.
✹ again, he keeps up the appearance that he's okay, and maybe it's a little more true this time now that you're actually awake, but he still feels your absence like a weight on his shoulders.
✹ the other three are pleased amongst themselves about your recovery, gaz and soap constantly asking him how you are; and he knows they mean well, but it's still irritating because how could you be okay? you don't even remember your own husband, nothing about this is okay.
✹ he keeps his grievances to himself though. he's still their captain, he can't afford to fall apart when he still has a job to do.
✹ he's woken up one night by soft footsteps in the living room. his neck aches as his eyes snap open, every sense on high alert until he realises it's just you. a quiet grunt escapes him as he sits up, massaging his sore muscles from sleeping on the sofa.
✹ when the sound of muffled crying reaches his ears, he's immediately on his feet, his heart racing as he shuffles over to where you're standing with a hand covering your mouth.
✹ he presses a hand to your back, rubbing soothing circles between your shoulder blades. you don't look at him, your crying only increasing in volume now you're not worried about waking him.
✹ now that he's right next to you, he sees through the darkness that you're holding one of your wedding photos. it's his favourite picture, the one where he's lifting you with an arm around your waist and you're both gazing into each other's eyes with the most lovestruck expression on your faces.
✹ "i– i know i love you, so wh-why can't i just remember you?" you sputter in between sobs, and you might as well have just ripped his heart out of his chest, because he can't stop the way he breaks down at your words.
✹ john wraps both arms tightly around you, caging you to his chest and nestling your head into the crook of his shoulder while pressing his own tear-stained face into the top of your head.
✹ "it's alright, love–" his voice cracks pitifully, and he's never felt quite as hopeless as he does in this moment. "it'll be alright, you'll remember, i promise…"
✹ he's not sure who he's trying to convince, you or himself as you both sink to the floor in each other's embrace. you stay like that for hours, crying for your lost memory into the early morning.
✹ after that, he can't be bothered to pretend he's okay anymore.
✹ he starts drinking again, shamelessly in the middle of the day and grumbling at gaz and ghost when they wrestle the bottle away from him. he knows you'd disapprove, but the toll of lying to himself and everyone around him has caught up. all he wanted was his partner back, the love of his life, you.
✹ the others try to knock some sense into him, but talking to him becomes like going back and forth with a brick wall. gaz even gets kate on the phone to yell at him, but nothing seems to get through. he orders them to leave him alone, stop asking about you, and it really feels like he's lost hope.
✹ it goes on like this for a week straight, nearly a full month since you first woke up.
✹ and then one boring afternoon, there's a commotion outside his office. john hears cheers and shouts from down the corridor, but he can't bring himself to care enough to investigate.
✹ he's not in the mood to celebrate whatever it is they're cheering about anyway.
✹ john's just about to stand and yell at them to shut up, but then you're suddenly standing at his door, slamming it behind you as you rush over to his desk. his face must be the picture of surprise as he swivels in his chair to follow you as you approach, opening his legs for you to stand between them.
✹ his breath catches in his throat as you cup his face, your touch so tender it has his heart hammering against his sternum like the very first time you touched him all those years ago. he plants his hands firmly on your hips, too afraid of getting his hopes up to say a single word as he watches you get closer.
✹ your face hovers just above his, warm breath fanning over his face as you inch ever closer. he sees your eyes glistening before they flutter shut, brushing your lips against his with an anticipation that has his skin tingling.
✹ when you pull away, his eyes stay closed, but he can hear the smile in your voice when you whisper,
✹ "i remember you now."
✹ his heart might’ve actually stopped at your words, surprise shooting through him like a bolt of lightning as his eyes snap open.
✹ in a second, he's lifting you by the waist and dropping you onto his desk, uncaring for the various papers that he brushes out of the way to make room for you.
✹ he can't stop the overjoyed laugh that rumbles in his chest now he's the one standing between your legs, gripping your face and pushing his lips back against your with all the passion he's been bottling up during your recovery.
✹ you smile into the kiss too, wrapping your arms securely around his neck, running your fingers up his neck and through his hair. it feels like a weight has lifted, something heavy in the back of his mind finally dissipating and allowing him to relax into your hold.
✹ the two of you break away after a moment, keeping him close to you as you press your forehead to his. "i'm sorry that i ever forgot you."
✹ "i can think of a way you can make it up to me, love…"
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gaz
✹ you're so apologetic about your amnesia, it breaks his heart all over again. what's worse is that he has no idea what to do; he doesn't want to try and force you to remember, that would just stress you out more, but he wants you to remember him so desperately he feels it ache in his bones.
✹ in the end, he decides to just let things play out. he wants you to recover at your own pace, and not just because of him and how he feels about you.
✹ he also doesn't say a word about your relationship, but with how he initially reacted, he's sure you got the idea. you don't mention it either, which admittedly hurts a little, but he's sure the confusion of waking up to having a boyfriend who's name you don't even know is worse than how he feels about it.
✹ kyle vows to take care of you the moment you're discharged. he takes you to your room, shows you where everything is, makes sure you know where he is should you ever need anything, and he even introduces you to the others again.
✹ you still remember your job and how to do it so, once you're physically well enough, you get right back to it. they carry on as normal, the rest of the taskforce – assimilating you back into their nights of drinking and fucking around as if you'd never left.
✹ kyle still doesn't feel right about it.
✹ he doesn't want to treat you like glass, because you're exactly the same as when he first met you. you're still quick-witted, stubborn, and one of the toughest people he knows, you just… don't know him.
✹ it kills him on the inside, but he stays strong for you; the last thing he wants is to become the mess of a man he was when you were out, he doesn't want you to see him like that. he sorely misses spending his nights with you, and talking endlessly about your days to each other. he sends you longing glances every time you look away, wondering if you'd ever feel the same again.
✹ if you can go back to living normally, why can't he?
✹ but as the weeks go by, kyle notices how you start to withdraw, the loneliness that blocks out the light in your eyes that he loves so much. you fade into the background of conversations, sticking to listening rather than engaging.
✹ you watch them from afar, and he still knows you well enough to know what's going through your head. feeling somehow like you belong and also like an outsider at the same time, wishing you could understand the inside jokes you were a part of.
✹ he wishes more than anything that there was something he could do – make you understand that you're wanted, and you're a valuable part of the team even without your memories, but any time he brings it up you simply brush him off with that far away look in your eyes.
✹ three weeks go by before anything changes.
✹ it's the first time in a while they finally have an afternoon off, so of course they decide to spend it playing football on one of the fields within the bounds of the base. soap and ghost on one team, gaz and the captain on the other, with you spectating and keeping score on the sidelines. 
✹ kyle offered to sit out if you wanted to play, but you'd brushed him off with the excuse of wanting to rest and read your book, laying out your jacket on the grass to sit on.
✹ he could tell you weren't all there, but he didn't know how to help you; so he just reassured you that you could call him over if you needed anything, and left you to guard his own jacket and water bottle before running off to join the game.
✹ the whole time he was sprinting around the field, he couldn't stop looking over to you over by the sidelines. he wasn't with it, he hadn't been since you woke up, really, and the others could tell.
✹ price abruptly calls half-time, clapping gaz on the shoulder and giving him a knowing look. "just talk to 'em, before it eats you alive." he chides, pushing him in your direction before he can think to protest.
✹ with a deep sigh and a glace backwards to the others, who shoo him away without a word, he jogs over to where you're sitting. the way the late afternoon sun hits you just right stops kyle dead in his tracks when he catches how it glows in your eyes. he feels a pull in his chest as he approaches you.
✹ you look up from your book as his shadow reaches you, shooting him a tiny smile as he drops himself next to you. he takes a swig from his water bottle as he catches his breath, extremely conscious of the way your teammates are pretending not to watch him while he comes up with the words.
✹ "so, who's winning then?" you ask, turning so you're facing him. he sees how your smile doesn't quite reach your eyes.
✹ "aren't you supposed to be keepin' score?" kyle chuckles, shifting slightly closer to you as you look away with a bashful expression. he allows your hands to brush, wanting nothing more than to lock your fingers together.
✹ "i'm not really paying attention."
✹ there's a beat of silence and that helpless feeling is back as he watches you look back out to the field, where the others are still kicking the ball back and forth.
✹ "how you doin'?" he asks, keeping his voice low as he leans in even closer to you. your mouth opens to respond, that slightly off smile back on your face, but before you can he places his hand fully over yours, giving it a comforting squeeze. "actually."
✹ you sigh, heavy and tired, and bring your gaze back over to his. "it's… hard." you begin, your eyes betraying the internal struggle. "and i'm… i know, before, we were–"
✹ he blinks and you're being sent over backwards by a football flying into your face with a smack that makes kyle's ears ring.
✹ immediately he's crouching over you, helping you sit back up and pressing the sleeve of his jacket to your nose, uncaring for the blood that stains it.
✹ "you alright?" he murmurs, gently holding your face as he inspects your nose. you nod, wincing at the movement, and take the sleeve of his jacket from him.
✹ once he's sure you're okay, his vision turns red with anger. it's pretty obvious who kicked the ball when he whips around to see soap kneeling on the ground with his head in his hands.
✹ "oi!" kyle shouts, sending him a deadly glare as he gets up. "soap, what the fuck!"
✹ the man in question looks up from his hands, an incredibly guilty look on his face. "i'm sorry pal! i dinnae ken what happened!"
✹ "just piss off, you prick!"
✹ kyle looks back to you, crouching down again with a concerned frown; but you're already looking at him, the silhouette of his own form reflected in your wide eyes. your nose is still dripping blood, but you drop his jacket and your hands to your lap anyway, mouth agape as you stare back at him.
✹ "what's wrong? are you–"
✹ you cut him off by tackling him to the ground with your arms around his neck, squeezing a surprised 'oof' from him as you land on top of his chest. one of his hands flies to your waist to steady you, the other carefully cradling your head.
✹ "i remember!" you cry, an elated laugh bubbling up as fresh tears wet your cheeks.
✹ kyle lets out a relieved laugh of his own, craning his neck to plant his lips firmly on yours with an infectious grin. in the background the others groan at the display of affection, but neither of you pay them any mind.
✹ eventually the two of you pull away, a wide smile still plastered on both of your faces as you get up from the grass. he pulls you in with the hand that still hasn't moved from your waist and leans to whisper in your ear,
✹ "fancy kickin' soap's arse?"
✹ "you read my mind."
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soap
✹ johnny's enthusiastic with your recovery. anyone could've guessed that from the moment you woke up he'd be doting, eager to help you in any way you could need.
✹ yes, you didn't remember him, but be was just so ecstatic that you were okay – apart from the amnesia – that he couldn't find it in himself to be disappointed about it. you'd get your memories back soon enough, and then everything would go right back to the way it was.
✹ sometimes he gets a little carried away, forgets that while you are technically in a relationship, he's not much more than a stranger to you right now. more than once you end up having to ask him for some space because he's so incredibly touchy, and you're not sure how to handle it.
✹ you also request a temporary room to sleep in while you recover, separate from him. johnny's not sure how he feels about it.
✹ he feels that sinking feeling in his chest whenever you push him back with a hand on his chest, a polite smile tugging at your lips. it's disheartening, but he tries not to let it get to him. you'll remember soon, and then this will all be in the past.
✹ maybe you'll even laugh about it, how you could ever forget your wonderful boyfriend.
✹ he takes it upon himself to read up on amnesia, so he can better understand how to help you in any way you might need. once he learns that exposure to memories that you've lost can help your recovery, he eagerly convinces you to let him show you places that have meaning to you and your relationship with him.
✹ you agree, and he didn't actually need to do much convincing because you seem just as interested in the idea as him. he knocks on your door the following evening, offering you a single rose before whisking you away with a charming smile.
✹ he takes you on your first date all over again, with the same level of enthusiasm as before. he treats you to dinner at a relatively nice restaurant, telling you all about how the two of you got together in the first place, and memories you have together. he even orders you dessert, recalling with a chuckle how he accidentally guessed your favourite on your actual first date.
✹ once you both finish eating, he guides you by the hand to the canal for the second half of the date, a romantic moonlit stroll by the water. he pulls you close with an arm around your shoulders, meeting your eyes with a fond smile and a blush dusting his cheeks.
✹ "hold on…" you mutter, a pensive expression taking over your face as you stop walking. you turn to gaze at the water, seemingly working something out in your mind. "this… this is where gaz fell into the river that one time, right?"
✹ johnny's heart misses a beat, his eyes lighting up with renewed, excited hope as he grins at you. "you remember?"
✹ "a little, yeah," you smile, dropping your gaze and hands from his with a sorry scratch at the back of your neck. "the rest is still blank, though…"
✹ his smile falters, but he's quick to make sure you don't see his disappointment by pulling you into a reassuring hug. "that's still somethin'! you'll be good as new in nae time!"
✹ the next morning, he finds you and gaz in the rec room on one of the couches, talking animatedly with each other. that familiar shine is in your eyes, the sight johnny's been missing for the last few months. it makes his heart feel light, finally seeing you acting like your normal self again after so long.
✹ he approaches you both, watching you fondly as you talk and laugh with gaz, but his good mood is soured when you only briefly acknowledge his arrival when he sits down across from you, before resuming your conversation with gaz. his brow twitches downwards.
✹ gaz is one of your closest friends, and he’s glad you remembered him. he's happy that you got part of your memory back, even if it wasn't a part that included him.
✹ this was a good thing. you'd remember him soon, he was sure of it.
✹ a few more days pass until anything else notable happens. while you were in the gym together, you told him you felt a headache coming on, so he offered to walk you to the infirmary for some painkillers. the casual conversation you made on the way wouldn't have bothered him before, but he just couldn't shake the image of you and gaz being so comfortable, while he's still stuck on the outside.
✹ he doesn't say anything though. making you feel bad about it won't solve anything, and it's not like you're doing it on purpose, he knows you wouldn't do that to him. you were just excited to have a familiar face, that's all.
✹ while you're waiting for the medic on call, your head suddenly snaps to attention and you get that same pensive look on your face as that night by the river.
✹ "you got something?" johnny asks, bringing his hand up to rest on your upper back. he doesn't want to get his hopes up, but he can't help the way his heart flutters with optimism.
✹ you nod, a smile growing on your features. "i remember that time lt. dislocated my shoulder, and price basically forced him apologise to me," you laugh, thankfully facing away from johnny as his lips turn downwards, "god, he was pissed, it was honestly kinda funny."
✹ "what, uhm…" he lightly clears his throat, hoping you don't hear the dejection in his voice, "what about me?"
✹ you meet his eyes again with an apologetic shake of your head. "i'm sorry, soap…"
✹ "yer fine, it's–" he swallows thickly, waving you off with an exaggerated smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, "this is good, it's progress."
✹ since then, he's given you more space. it's clear to him that his efforts aren't helping you remember him, it actually feels like it's having the opposite effect. of course, he's glad you remember your friends, but you still don't remember him – your own boyfriend.
✹ it's wrong, and he knows it is, but he's jealous.
✹ he has to watch you carry on like usual, without him. you haven't set foot in the room you used to share together since before you were comatose. he's done his best to disguise how much it hurts, but it still annoys him how no one else seems to notice how wrong it all is. the others don't need you like he does, they don't lay awake at night going over every moment, treasuring the time you called him yours, yearning with every fibre of his being to go back.
✹ it's been a month and a half since you woke up, six weeks of being so close yet so unbearably far from you. he prays to any god that will listen to bring you back to him, allow him to hold you in his arms once more, but nothing ever changes.
✹ the thread he's been hanging on by ever since you went down on that mission gone wrong is one more bad day away from snapping.
✹ he's approached by gaz one morning, while waiting for the others to begin training, who takes it upon himself to ask johnny about how you're recovering. when gaz teases him about how he was the first person you remembered, and johnny thinks he might just strangle him.
✹ "careful, soap, i might steal 'em away," gaz laughs, patting his shoulder with a camaraderie soap scoffs at.
✹ "shut the fuck up." he snarls, his face bunched in a strikingly out of character scowl. his hands twitch at his sides, nails digging painfully into his palms.
✹ gaz blinks, his eyebrows shooting up, clearly taken aback by the hostility from his friend. "alright, i was only jokin', mate."
✹ "aye, well, i'm nae laughin'."
✹ the tension is stifling. he can tell gaz wants to say something more, but he holds his tongue – too worried about upsetting soap any further.
✹ they stand in silence with each other like that for a while, gaz watching him from the corner of his eye while he keeps his gaze firmly on the grass below him.
✹ thankfully, after not too long the uneasy atmosphere is interrupted by a shout from the direction of the building, "johnny!"
✹ his head snaps to attention to see you, grinning uncontrollably and sprinting towards him at full speed.
✹ "wha–" he's caught off guard by how you leap into his arms, hooking your arms around his neck as he stumbles backwards in surprise.
✹ before he has time to question your actions, you're smashing your lips against his in a searing kiss that has johnny's head spinning. he wastes no time in reciprocating, securing one arm around your waist and bringing the other to the back of your head, using it you press you impossibly closer to him as he groans into your mouth.
✹ you reluctantly pull away, just enough to take a shaky breath, but johnny's had stays put on the back of your head. "i'm sorry i forgot, i'm sorry…" you mumble against his lips, dragging your fingers through the unkempt hair of his mohawk.
✹ he drops his head into the juncture of you neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply the scent of you that he's gone so long without. he laughs into you, slightly delirious and just so overjoyed to have you in his arms again that feels his eyes sting with tears.
✹ "i've missed you, bonnie," he chuckles wetly, pressing his lips back to yours in another desperate kiss, "i've missed you so much,"
✹ "i'll never forget you again."
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ghost
✹ he avoids you like the plague.
✹ or he tries to, at least. but truth be told, after spending so much time learning to be vulnerable around you and allowing you into his guarded heart, it's difficult to go back to being a stranger to you.
✹ that, and he doesn't actually want to.
✹ but he needs to. being around you, the love of his life, knowing that you don't remember him, it's like a knife stuck between his ribs. any time he's in the same room as you he finds himself fighting the urge to grab your hand, or press his forehead against you.
✹ he knows you don't want him anymore, the last thing you deserve is a giant of a man – who you're clearly afraid of, even if you won't say it – hanging around you like a shadow.
✹ you're still kind to him, because of course you are, checking in on him and trying to talk to him any opportunity you get. it's nice, sometimes he can even pretend everything is normal when he shares a laugh with you, but then he sees the hesitance in your eyes and he's brought back to the cold reality of the situation.
✹ the weeks drag like this, every fleeting look from you another bleeding wound on his heart.
✹ he keeps it together surprisingly well, all things considered, but the breaking point comes when you find him having a smoke one night, on a bench just outside the barracks.
✹ "simon?" your voice cuts through the silence, his eyes snapping to you as you sit down next to him. he takes another long drag from his cigarette as he watches you, uncertainty in your voice as you continue, "can you tell me about… me? and us?"
✹ no matter how much he thinks he should, he can't look away from your pleading gaze.
✹ "we… you're everything to me," simon mutters, dropping his cigarette and putting it out with the heel of his boot, "i've never felt the way i do with you before, you've helped me more than you could ever know…"
✹ his vision blurs with unshed tears. the sadness on your face starts and ache in his heart, the desire to take you into his arms and just hold you making his skin bristle.
✹ "you don't have to feel the same way, but…" he pulls the balaclava from his head, setting it on the bench in the space between you, bearing his face to you like he always does, "even if you never get your memory back, i'll always love you."
✹ the way you look at him makes it so incredibly difficult not to cry. your eyes are glassy and far away, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth with an expression that screams guilt – but it's not your fault, and he'd never blame you.
✹ you open your mouth to say something, but the words never materialise. the night stays silent, and simon expects it, but it still makes his bones ache with a heaviness that he knows he can't shake.
✹ he stands, picking up his balaclava, and walks quietly past you to the barracks door. there's no fleeting look, not this time. he disappears to his room without another word.
✹ he's not sure how much later it is when he hears a knock on his door. minutes, hours, it didn't matter. it all blends together now.
✹ when he doesn't bother to answer, whoever it is lets themselves in, shutting the door gently behind themselves. he sits up with the intention of chewing them out, but when he opens his eyes they land on your form, curled in on yourself and shuffling quickly over to him.
✹ you're here, in his room, with a face that looks like you've been crying for hours, puffy and tear-stained with bloodshot eyes.
✹ he almost thinks he's dreaming, but the warmth as you wrap your arms around him and bring his face to your chest is too real, too familiar. he brings his arms up  around your waist, releasing a shaky sigh into your skin as he squeezes you tighter against him.
✹ a few hot tears meet the top of his head as you whisper to him the words he's been waiting, longing to hear, rocking gently from side to side.
✹ "i remember, si."
✹ it feels like he can finally rest, like the state of being he's been living in for the last few months melts away with your touch and he feels safe again.
✹ with his grip around your waist, he hoists you onto his bed to lay back down with him, holding you tightly against his chest, your heart right beside his own racing one.
✹ you cradle his face again, pressing your lips to his face over and over, touching every inch of him with your love.
✹ "i'm sorry…" you whisper like a mantra, punctuating every kiss with an apology that makes his throat constrict with the raw emotion he feels. "i'm sorry,"
✹ "don't be…" he mirrors how you hold his face, tangling his legs with yours as he captures your mouth and pours every ounce of passion he has into the way he kisses you. "don't be, love."
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aidaronan · 1 year
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The years go by. The retail jobs that Steve thinks are temporary keep piling up, but he has no idea what else to do with his life so he just keeps on keeping on.
Until a large tree falls on the lawn of the little house he managed to buy and he gets the quote on removal and the number literally hurts his soul.
He buys a small chainsaw instead. Over the course of a few weeks, he gets most of the branches cut up. He collects some large rocks from down by the quarry and digs out a fire pit in his backyard. On his days off, his friends come over and they sit out back and have a few beers. The pile of wood dwindles. The giant trunk is another story though. His chainsaw isn't big enough for it. Burning it would take forever, and Steve's terrified he'd disappoint Smoky the Bear. He's at a loss.
Until he sees another giant trunk in someone's yard carved into a bear.
He knows what to do then. Not a bear, but something else. Through trial and error, the trunk becomes the rough shape of a woman, the remnants of the branches like a crown on her head. It's not as amazing as the bear he saw, but it's his. He finds he loves the smell of sawdust and the feeling of creating something.
Just like that, Steve realizes what he wants to do. It takes several months and a lot of yard sales, but he scrounges up the tools he needs to start woodworking. He learns to measure twice and cut once. He makes tables and chairs and carves them with art and designs that get better and better the more he learns. Shockingly, people actually buy his pieces.
Even more shocking comes the realization that he's making enough money to do it full time. He puts in his two weeks notice at Melvald's and hands in his assistant manager badge.
He's not sure he's happy, but he is content. It feels good to work hard and actually have things to show for it. It also feels good to work muscles he hasn't used since high school. He carries on for a few years like that, creating and learning and creating some more. Then Eddie Munson blows back into town. Invited back so Hawkins can have their most famous alumnus sing the national anthem at homecoming. Steve's honestly surprised he shows at all. "Can't believe you didn't tell them kiss your hairy ass," Steve says. Because of course Eddie ends up around his fire pit, sipping on Steve's cheap beer like he doesn't have three Grammy awards on his mantel. The years fall away with each drink, reminding Steve of just how much it had hurt when Eddie left. He'd wanted Eddie so bad back then, more than he'd ever wanted anyone. He can feel the echoes of that deep ache across time.
"Pfft. Don't you know all famous people wax our asses now? All the rage in LA." Eddie cuts a look at him and smirks when Steve rolls his eyes, grateful for the lighthearted moment to snap him out of his maudlin nostalgia. "Really though I thought about it, but then I thought it would be way funnier to donate a metric fuckton of money to Hawkins High with the stipulation that it go to the theater and band programs. Kind of bummed they couldn't honor my other request though."
"Which was?"
"My old Hellfire throne. I miss her, but apparently she's not around anymore. Something about water damage."
"Oh yeah. Water main busted a few years back and flooded the theater. I remember that." "Yeah. Had to settle for the promise they'd make a game lounge and stock it with all the supplies a budding young nerd needs."
"That's really nice, Eds."
Eddie shrugs. "I've been known to be nice on occasion. You'll come to homecoming, right? Moral support?"
Steve hasn't been to homecoming in years because he sees the other people who stayed in town all the time, and he has no interest in seeing the people who didn't. He can only answer the same questions so many times. Oh, I'm doing woodwork now. Yep, I still live right here. Nope, still not married, no kids.
He goes though, and he answers the uncomfortable questions. Because Eddie asked him to. Because no matter how long it's been, Steve can't deny that some part of him still...
He says goodbye after, and Eddie leaves again, and Steve tries not to think about that too much in the following days.
He's halfway into the project before he realizes what he's building. He'd seen Eddie's throne quite a few times back when. What he doesn't have memories of, he makes up. He adds his own touches too, making it a throne fit for a rock star, a nerd, a friend.
He carves ornate patterns, he creates scenes of dragons being beaten back by a man with a guitar, crowds of people that could be knights or concertgoers.
It's his favorite piece he's ever done, and his hands are shaking when he dials Eddie's number. He gets an answering machine and stumbles through a message.
"I made you something. I guess it's kind of silly, but it's here in Hawkins if you want it. Or I'm sure you can afford the shipping if you don't want to come. Just, I made you a chair. It's more of a... Well, you'll see. Unless you don't want to... It's Steve by the way." He hangs up before he can embarrass himself even more.
Eddie doesn't call him back. One day passes and then another. Steve tries not to let it get to him. He works on orders and new projects. He enjoys his little backyard oasis. He rents a few movies and thinks they're okay.
He's debarking some wood in his driveway when the rental car pulls up, Eddie stepping out in ripped jeans and an old Metallica tee. "Hi again, Stevie."
"Oh." Steve clears his throat. "The thing's in the garage. I'll..."
Eddie doesn't say anything for a long time, circling the throne, running his tattooed fingers over each little detail.
"You made this whole thing?"
"I did."
"For me?" Eddie looks at him then, one hand still touching the wood like he doesn't want to let go. Even under the harsh lights of the garage, his eyes are such a warm shade of brown that Steve forgets to breathe.
He nods. "For you."
"Why?"
There are a hundred answers Steve could give, but he spent so long not knowing who he was or who he wanted to be. Too long. "Because you'll always be the one that got away. Because some part of me will always want to make you smile no matter how long it's been."
Eddie falls into the throne like he just got the wind knocked out of him.
"You don't have to respond to that," Steve says. "You can just say thank you and take the chair."
"I can." Eddie blows out a breath. "But that would be incredibly stupid considering half my early ballads are about you."
"What?" Unfair. Steve doesn't have a chair to fall into.
"Oh sure, I changed the hes to shes for a while there because..." Eddie waves his hand. "But they're about you, Steve. God, I should've asked you out. I just thought..."
Hearing those words is a lot like seeing that carved bear all over again, something clicking into place that wasn't quite right before.
"Go out with me now then," Steve says. "Or stay in. I've got a frozen lasagna and I rented Contact."
"Steve Harrington? Asking Eddie 'the Freak' Munson on a date? Did hell freeze over?"
"Pfft." Steve takes a step closer toward what he wants most. "Hell froze over in 1986, Eddie. You were there."
Five months and a lot of long distance phone bills later, Steve opens Harrington Woodworking in Los Angeles. That same day, Eddie takes photos for Rolling Stone posing in an ornate throne in his living room. He tells the reporter exactly who made it and what he means. At concerts, he starts singing those ballads the way he always wanted to. More often than not, Steve stands in the wings singing along.
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punkitt-is-here · 8 months
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LIFE UPDATE!!!! RAGHHH!!!
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Okay, so, as some of y'all know, I was fired from my job a couple of months ago. I reapplied, and unfortunately, despite getting an interview, I was turned down. Because of that, I'm going full-time as a self-employed artist. This means I'll be focusing on making fun stuff for my shop, learning better how to ship out items, and doubling down on doing more commissions.
As some of my wonderful commissioners know, I struggle a lot with deadlines and motivation. I have ADHD and even though I'm medicated, it still often gets in my way and kicks my ass often. It's part of why I have such a big struggle when doing commissions; they're hard to motivate myself to do and sometimes require a lot of communication back and forth that I'm just not the best at right now. I would like to say thanks to everyone that's put up with my inability to figure out a decent schedule for commission work, and hopefully everyone who's tried to get art from me will get their stuff very soon!
SO, uh, now that I don't really have a job, what's that mean? Well, I'm going to set a goal to actually make good on my promises for commissionwork. I tend to actually get a lot done in bursts, but they come and go, so I'm going to try and do weekly commissions but with much smaller slots. What I'll be doing is upping the frequency while also limiting the amount I get per-week so I can have a form of consistency with my output. That way, both parties are satisfied and I don't have to keep beating myself up for taking my time because I kept convincing myself I had a big-ass workload I couldn't chip away at.
Part of how I'll be doing this is acting like I still have a job. I'm gonna set aside work hours in the week to specifically work on commissions and shipping and interfacing with clients. I depend on the kindness and goodwill of my incredible followers, so the last thing I really want to do is tarnish that (at least any more than I have; apologies to everyone who's put up with me learning how to run a shop!). I think I'm at a point where I understand a lot of my limitations and abilities, and so I hope going forward I can begin to create a routine for myself and be able to make this something I can do far into the future! If you'd like to support me while I do this wacky lil thing, i've got a ko-fi and now a Patreon! (which I will link in my reblog since I heard Patreon links are weird here on tumblr.) I'm really excited to be launching a patreon. I can't guarantee any specific type of content, but the plan is just to show tiny little previews of stuff early if you're a supporter and stuff like this. I've never had anything of this kind, so I ask for your patience as I work stuff out, but if you feel like supporting me on either platform it'd mean the world to me. Thanks :)
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velvetures · 9 months
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Honorifics
A/N: Yeah... I don't know about this. I'll probably take it down since I'm unsure if it's got enough of a consistent vibe. Let me know if it's actually something you enjoy since I don't write angst or hurt/comfort often. I ALWAYS WRITE HAPPY ENDINGS THO. That's a damn promise. Summary: You've given Ghost a title he hates, and takes it out on you. The situation goes too far, and you're both left trying to figure it out. Reader is nicknamed "Brass" since she's a long-distance shooter/sniper. T/W: angst, cursing, Ghost being an emotionally unstable human, yelling, the reader having a breakdown, smidge of not eating, smidge of not drinking anything, comfort, feelings, female reader, not proofread.
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When you joined the task force, things didn’t exactly go as smoothly as you had hoped it would. Training sessions usually ended up with you either getting your ass beat or nearly surviving a full-on embarrassment by the skin of your teeth just to be told that you still weren’t in good enough shape to keep up with them in the field. Surely being a woman didn’t excuse you from being in shape for the kind of work Laswell and Price had brought you in for, but damn if it wasn’t difficult to try and have a one-on-one fight with someone like Soap or Ghost without the benefit you would typically have in a real-world battle situation. The reality that all of the men in the squad were literally the best of the best aside, there could be just barely enough room for you to compete on the same level when it came to sheer physical strength. While that wasn’t your specialty anyway, the Captain made it clear you needed to prove you could handle your own against serious physical fights without assistance. After nearly five weeks of having one of your squad mates slam you on your ass one too many times in the training hall, you finally were able to prove to Price that you could go out in the field and he didn’t have to extend any extra worries for your ability to survive.
Logistically as a sniper, it meant you frequently held a much more distant role in missions. By watching from a scope you could ensure that infiltrations, covert ops, and other hush-hush kinds of operations that typically the 141 wouldn’t have the luxury of. Being the skilled marksman you were, it made sense to take advantage of your talents and also extend you a job that progressed past what you’d experienced in your “standard” military career and multiple tours overseas. However, that meant communications were essentially the backbone of your usefulness aside from your rifle. Next to nothing else, your daily and mission-based work almost exclusively went through Lieutenant Ghost. Which… often proved to be the largest obstacle that you faced aside from making sure that your scope didn’t get bumped off sight the -often- rough flights and drives to insertion points.
The Lieutenant was particularly mean… he certainly didn’t give a single thought to if anyone thought that he was a little too harsh of a personality to swallow. That went for everything you came to learn about Ghost. From his lack of willingness to speak unless required of him, to his unique ability of appearing and disappearing from anywhere without the slightest sound or hint of where he’d come from or gone to. Trained as a distance marksman, even you were impressed that such a massive man could move around like smoke on water. That and his physical appearance; good god above. Surely a man like Ghost had never graced the face of the Earth before, else he’d have been just as mythical in his legendary life and would’ve been known by thousands of people. He stood towering over just about everyone, in whatever room he was in, and compared to your own height it was downright laughable the difference between the two of you as operators.
The one thing that made the biggest impression on you after meeting the Lieutenant was his voice and how he spoke. That thick accent always sounded rough and a little gritty. His deep timbre gave such a commanding authority that if given the choice between getting yelled at by Captain Price or Ghost… there was no choice you’d sit for hours listening to Price threaten you over Ghost. He just sounded so scary and attractive all at the same time. Unsurprisingly, it developed into a subconscious dynamic where you saw Ghost as such a superior officer -and human- that no matter how much you liked to daydream about Ghost in less-than-professional situations… You gave him the utmost respect at all times. Easiest of all to recognize was that from day one, you had never addressed Ghost to his face as anything other than ‘sir’. Not even his rank gave enough nuance to his character and presence, so for you, Ghost was inextricably attached to the name.
Ghost however… didn’t like it.
Such a simple address actually made Ghost grit his teeth beneath the shield of his mask. When he heard you call him that, he automatically related it to how he had called General Shepherd ‘sir’ as a subtle sign of mockery and defiance. Thinking about that made him more than necessarily angry and confused, but he couldn’t really accuse you of having ever been given much of a reason to detest him. Therefore, he had to come to the conclusion that you were doing it out of some kind of respect that a drill sergeant or boot camp instructor had bashed into your brain so hard that it stuck permanently. Not surprising since you were much different from the rest of the task force. Yet he had to revise that after the first six months of you being with them permanently. You had gotten settled in. Enough so that you called the Captain, ‘Cap’… Soap, ‘Johnny’… and Garrick, ‘Gaz’ like everyone else did. Exceptionalities only appeared when it came time for you to be around him or have any sort of interaction that wasn’t the occasional silent nod of acknowledgment when walking past each other in the hallways.
He honestly tried to ignore it and you altogether for that matter in an attempt to keep his bitter anger at a minimum. Seeing such a small and fucking happy woman always lingering around somewhere in the corners of his sight couldn’t be anything but a distraction waiting to happen. A bad habit that he didn’t have the mental capacity or emotional willingness to take on. Fuck… he already had to worry about the 141 as a whole, to begin with. Now you on top of that? It was more responsibility than he’d signed up for initially. Hearing you call him ‘sir’ day in and day out began to take its toll on his self-control. Ghost needed to either find out why you were hellbent on calling him that, or at least be enough of a bastard to you to be reassured that you did it because you wanted a polite way to tell him to shove it up his ass sideways.
The Lieutenant had been being nothing short of a prick in the last few months.
He was making paperwork back at HQ a nightmare that couldn’t be solved alternatively through someone like Gaz or Soap who often didn’t mind playing the part of the unbiased third party. Refusing to sign things when you stopped by his office, outright ignoring your necessary questions, and stonewalling you at every single stop along the way just to yield at the last moment and do everything you’d been asking for so the both of you wouldn’t face heat from any higher-ups. That alone was enough for you to consider talking to Soap privately since he knew Ghost the best… but you’d kept putting it off hoping that it was just a passing phase of shitty attitude.
Your patience and emotional strength fell through the floor after attempting for the third time in a week after something so fucking simple as trying to get his approval and official signature on a post-mission report Price had delegated to you after being called to Washington D.C. for a meeting. It wasn’t a major task, but knowing that the Captain had given you the responsibility first over anyone else made you want to impress him and take care of business without incident. God forbid you do something as simple as ask Ghost to pick up a pen and scribble his name at the bottom of a page so that you could send it on through the higher-up channels. It resulted in the Lieutenant straight-up yelling at you in the middle of the hallway outside his office when he’d found you standing there patiently waiting for him to show up. He wasn’t threatening physically, but it cut much deeper into your pride and feelings than it should have.
With every word that dripped venomously out of his masked mouth, you lost a little extra peace of mind on having such an untouchable and unshakably good opinion of Ghost for so long. This moment of undeserved verbal punishment was enough to make the corners of your eyes burn with inner disgrace, self-doubt, and plain old sadness which motivated you to get the hell out of there before the Lieutenant saw you cry. When you turned your back and walked away right in the middle of his berating for you being “too fucking annoying to tolerate”, your only destination was your personal quarters on the other end of the building where a lock on the door could shut out the entire base for as long as you saw fit. Upon the first estimation, it would be after Captain Price returned so that you could have at least one single chance at not getting a second punishment or dismissal from the squad. The sound of your door slamming shut and your back sliding down against it on your way down to the floor silenced the entire room around you, leaving just enough room for the papers clenched to your chest to flutter onto the ground and your weak cries to sounds amplified.
It was hours before you could drag yourself off the floor and into bed, too tired and wanting to fall back on the trained and instinctual desire to hide away somewhere isolated and not move for hours on end. Being a long-distance marksman gave you the talent of patience insurmountable to the average person, allowing days to pass by without you needing to do more than go to the bathroom before coming right back to a motionless position. That’s what you wanted tonight. You needed to focus all of your energy into your brain alone and use it to sort through the hurt burning through your eyes and throat, and the questioning that gave such a sickening feeling a chance root in your stomach. Questions of if it had been foolish to trust Ghost as much as you did the others, knowing how you’d been warned that he would be difficult to work with. Hoping you hadn’t been truly so ignorant of judging behavior to think that the Lieutenant was something much greater than his behavior had been not only today but for the past months.
The next two days were spent laying near motionless… not hungry or thirsty.
Just thinking, sleeping, and staring at the wall across from your bed.
A solid knock on your door was the first human sound that hadn’t been made by you in over forty-eight hours. You’d not looked at your phone or any communications since locking yourself inside, and there was a good chance someone from the squad had come searching for you after such a long period without seeing or hearing from you. When you refused to answer right away, another harder knock banged on the door twice and rattled the steel in its doorframe. Impatient. Testy. Quite familiar with everything you’ve been through lately. Recognizing the Lieutenant was the one outside made your gut churn all over again. Questioning whether to get up or not wasn’t hard. Laying perfectly still in bed, you waited. If you were being honest though, it’d been a long time since you’d spent so long restricting yourself from basic needs for the purpose of acting like a living phantom. Close to three years since any sniper position had left you utterly abandoned without resources. Only this time it was self-induced and nothing short of a trauma response you wanted to hide away from. Truthfully you couldn’t tell if walking to the door was an easy feat or not. After not drinking anything, using the bathroom wasn’t necessary and the last time you’d stood up didn’t cross your memory clearly.
Ghost slammed his fist against the door again one last time. But he didn’t wait long enough for you to answer before rattling the handle to the door with a heavy sigh that was audible through the cracks separating you. Metal on metal gritted softly and moved the door handle a bit further. Recognizing that as nothing short of Ghost picking the lock to your quarters without the slightest care of how he’d be breaking multiple stipulations laid out for them living in HQ. Either your physical or mental state kept you from giving a damn when the handle gave way fully, leaving a bright fluorescence light flooding in from the hallway into your pitch-black room. It made your eyes water and the urge to turn your head away was strong enough to budge your head into the blankets and pillow surrounding. Heavy boots made the paperwork scattered on the floor crunch softly and the sound of his deep breaths gave away his current state of frustration. Clearly not appreciating being locked out of a room that he had no fucking business being in. A long pause led to shuffling around, and the sound of your desk chair creaking under his weight.
“Gonna say somethin’?” He sounded no less irritated than the last time you’d spoken.
It made your throat burn to even think you’d allowed his to get in your head so deeply just to utterly rip every last bit of security and respect away from you for no damn reason. Your silence made quite the statement, even if the actual task of speaking hadn’t been a totally voluntary one. You’d not moved your jaw in days at this point.
“You’ve missed five drill sessions, two mandatory meetings, and one phone from General Shepherd.”
Listing off your offenses hardly bothered you. The consequences of this had been fully accepted days ago, and Ghost would have to do a lot more to get you up from this bed. You’d trained for hell, and no matter how badly Ghost had ruined your almost loving and patient view of him there weren’t enough men on the planet to make you get up voluntarily. Drastic… yes. Satisfying to your own pride… undoubtedly. When you didn’t even let out a single breath loud enough for Ghost to hear instead of that instant apology or willingness to appease him… please him even, with that little quip of ‘sir’ ready on your tongue, the Lieutenant was up out of that chair so quickly you heard it roll into the wall behind him hard enough to thud against the drywall.
“Goddamn it Brass, I demand a fuckin’ answer!” His loud bark caught your attention, but the feeling of your blankets being ripped off your body was a far more startling sensation.
Baring you to the cold air of the room, all your body managed was to raise chills on your skin in a feeble attempt to keep you warm or alert you to seek out that heat again. Tension exploded into shocked silence when Ghost didn’t utter more than a sharp inhale after getting one, shadowed glimpse of your body totally frozen on your stomach. You knew it couldn’t look great. Snipers could come back looking like skeletons sometimes after a long mission if they were given the orders to stay put. You’d not been laying nearly long enough for that to be the case, but dehydration was certainly a symptom you were ignoring quite easily, as well as the possibility of some minor pressure ulcers that would linger for a few weeks if you didn’t move soon. Ghost wasn’t as familiar with the sight of how you felt internally. Snipers weren’t commonly used or in collaboration with Task Force 141. You’d been their first real look at how the inner workings moved or didn’t, and much of your personal way of doing things had dispelled or blown away any misguided assumptions they’d made about your skills early on. Viewing a sniper after days of doing literally nothing, of her own free will…? That wasn’t healthy or accepted in general military companies. Lucky Ghost got the front-row seat though.
When you heard his movement next to you, weight pressed down the mattress at your side in the shape of his hands, and a low sigh registered.
“Brass…” Failing to even say something, you wondered if your own assessment of yourself wasn’t accurate. “It’s been five days.” His faltered tone was truthful, and it destroyed your semblance of time that had been misled by the absence of sunlight coming in through your room.
You thought about trying to say something, resolve falling flat when swallowing felt difficult. A gloved hand rested against your thigh and Ghost almost growled again, sounding a lot more like he was resisting the urge to squeeze you hard. Only his fingers traced along your hip and over the curve in your waist with a tense and heavy swallow. He was being gentle beyond your concept of his depth of emotion and understanding. Nearly loving as he paused over your ribcage with another pinched sort of sound. Staying like that for what felt like hours, you struggled to keep yourself awake. It had been a struggle to move your tongue in your mouth, testing what mobility you’d lost in the short term. Only Ghost wasn’t leaving like you expected, and suddenly his voice returned it its normal stature.
“This’s Ghost. Get a bay ready now, I’m bringin’ someone in.” The reverb of his voice crackled in a radio you knew hooked to his vest. A backup short-range alternative in the case that SAT couldn’t be established or wasn’t clear enough to rely on in the field. Apparently, he used it to keep in contact with someone on base. Or multiple people for all you knew.
“Copy Ghost.” A static voice could be heard and quickly the room was pitched back into a silence you wanted to remain in, but Ghost was adamant to keep infracting alone with a whole list of other rules that, for whatever reason, just didn’t fucking matter or apply to him.
His other hand searched around the dark until he found your face resting amongst the fabric of your bed, curling his hand around your head and meticulously lifting you so very slowly away from the bed with his other arm steadying your legs that had also been taken up off the mattress. You’d never touched Ghost once in all the time you’d known him. Understanding that with his sour attitude, there couldn’t be a single chance in Hell that touching him was an acceptable action. Whereas with Soap, Gaz, and even on occasion Price: hugs, handshakes, shoves, and other physical touches were common, Ghost totally ignored all human contact. Maybe Hell had frozen over outside of your quarters for your weak and still motionless body to be lifted up against the Lieutenant’s chest and carried preciously outside of your room into the burning light of HQ. His chest heaved deep and quickly against you. Both hands curled around you and flexed tighter each time you were able to hear another set of shoes approaching closer to you. Possessive like a soldier. Silent like a Ghost. Determined.
He takes you straight to the medical hall where three nurses and two of the on-shift doctors are fast to respond to your condition. Only Ghost refuses to let them take you away from him for any reason. Stoically stonewalling them just like he habitually did to you as they begged him to lay you down on a transport bed so they could take you back to a room for assessment. The Lieutenant took you there himself, with the group of nurses and doctors hot on his heels and surrounding your bed once Ghost had you settled down inside a private room.
The whole place smells sterile and like alcohol. It’s not the first time you’ve been here, but these are far different circumstances. You’re still too sensitive to open your eyes, but hands are all over your body, gloves fingers touching around the sore places on weight-bearing points on your body, pricks in your fingertips, and a needle poke to the back of your hand. It’s overstimulating, to say the least, and you’re worried they’re going to think you’ve tried to starve yourself to death or decided that living altogether wasn’t worth it and simply wasting away into your bed was the solution. Right away, one of the voices of the medical professionals breaks that worry in your mind by calling for some of the tests to be staggered, needing time between them for nothing other than your own benefit.
“Treat this no differently than prolonged active reconnaissance,” The female voice states softly. “Being on-the-gun for this long is detrimental to all senses, and she’s going to need a while to wake up in a meaningful way.” She added, voice coming clearer the closer she got to your head.
“You’ve been working very hard, I suspect. Maybe not in the field… but you’re one tough lady.” She commented to you quite personally, her hand falling to your shoulders. “We’re going to get you plenty of fluids and start you on a vitamin drip to get everything running as it should again. You’ve also got some slight bedsores, but as long as we take care of them now, you’ll be right as rain soon, sniper.”
Tests were run, treatments began, and nurse after nurse was brought in with both doctors running rotations in and out of your room for the rest of the night. All of them were under the hard watch of Ghost who’d not moved from his position sitting in the corner of your room where he could see not only you but anyone approaching the door. He’d been very quiet throughout the process, watching and waiting for someone to give him some news about your condition with actual certainty. Stewing over the guilt he felt knowing damn well he was the reason you’d shut down so far and were still unable -or unwilling- to come out of it yet. You’d been nothing but the perfect little woman, doing her job with skill and grace, making everyone around you happier just with one glance in your direction. But fuck, he couldn’t stand seeing someone do the callous profession of killing people with one single squeeze of her finger and still have so much innocent and emotional humanity inside such a small body. Ghost couldn’t wrap his mind around it. So instead of trying to do the right thing and figure it out, he did what a man so out of touch with empathy did: Try to snuff it out.
You threatened him whether you or he realized it in the beginning.
But now he could see it with that crystal fucking clear hindsight. How monstrous he was for punishing you with no foundation other than his own selfish fear of seeing a dynamic he didn’t know was possibly wrapped up inside of you. Sweet and little you, never saying anything to him other than a ‘yes sir’ or ‘no sir’. Goddamnit Ghost knew he’d nearly killed you in a way. Seeing days of neglect in your sallow expression, darkened under eyes, and weakened body was more than even his cold heart could take all at one time. Wasting away for someone as useless as himself, all because he’d never given you enough credit for finding something worth liking in him where no one else had. Screaming at you. Cursing your existence. Right in your face, while he’d been too big of a pussy to even take off his own mask he hid behind every day as he utterly destroyed your meaningful position and life working alongside of his and his squad. Owing you his life wouldn’t nearly cover his offenses. Laughably, Ghost admitted his own life or death couldn’t measure up to yours. So instead of saying any kind of bullshit apology, he sat in the corner of your room and denied himself sleep, food, and water because there wasn’t anything else he could do until you’d been considered healthy and strong again.
Almost one week to the day you had been signed off for return to duty with zero restrictions. Your physical and mental evaluations came back clean, and with both Price and Ghost signing off on the doctor’s orders, you returned to your quarters where you expected to see your room exactly as you’d left it before Ghost brought you into the medical wing. Only nothing was as you’d left it. All the paperwork left on the floor was gone, as well as the other documents that had been left on your desk that still needed finishing. All of it was gone. Your bed and all of the bedclothes you’d been taken from were also missing. Replaced with totally brand new bedding in dark hues of dark green and navy blue with a decidedly feminine pattern on the quilt. Items you didn’t own. Or have any idea where they came from. Even the smell of stale air was traded for a woody, and familiar smell that wasn’t of a candle, or room spray; It was from a person. The person who sat in the corner of your room in your desk chair with his massive arms crossed over his chest and dark eyes staring at you through the painted visage of a skull gracing a black compression mask.
“Sir,” You greet hoarsely, still working through some of the non-significant parts of your recovery that lingered. Ghost stood from his seat and met you halfway across your room with a silent nod, his hand reaching out and motioning for you to step closer to him. Warily but complicit, you make the few steps forward and watch his hand turn to slide against your jaw and stay there firmly. “I expected you to be at drill.” You say with a tinge of surprise at the touch of his bare hand resting against your cheek.
“Should be,” He replied flatly. “But I’m not.” You nod a little, biting your tongue when his fingertip rubs over the curve of your ear. His eyes were soft and his unarmored physique was highlighted by the shadows made by the lamp on your side table. He’s inspecting you, you know as much. Clear by his thumb pressing over your pulse point and the minute exactly that he waits before speaking again.
“Do you like the color green?” His question knocks you off guard and his eyes slide over the quilt laying neatly over your bed. You were quick to answer honestly out of mere habit.
“Yes, sir.”
His hand stiffens against your cheek, and Ghost takes another step closer. His boots graze the tips of yours and his chin is nearly tucked against his chest to look down at you properly. You’re breathing a little harder, anticipating another break of his patience and an onslaught of screaming all directed at your apparent mistakes made right in front of his face. Judgments you’d still be unable to solve no matter how much you thought about it or what you did to try and find a solution of healthy -or not- motives. Ghost doesn’t yell though. He actually lowers his face down to yours, eyes locked right on you and an intensity burning there.
“Why do you call me that?” His low growl made you shiver, especially when his hand dropped lower to your throat. Now squeezing, but holding your gaze steady on him, reminding you of his strength. The power over you he’d always held, and given you the instant to call him ‘sir’ in the first place. Everything about Ghost was overwhelming, and you’d always been one wave away from drowning under him.
“You deserve the honor…” You answer, certain. Even if he’d broken your spirit and came back in the aftermath with questions you still believed to be much too complex for a single-sentence answer. Hopefully, he understood a little bit better but the way you leaned against his hand, letting him actually feel the pressure of your throat pressing into his palm. Literally offering your trust in him over again, testing the Lieutenant and watching as his eyes widened. His other hand came up to your face, counteracting the pressure you’d applied to keep your breath and blood flow uninterrupted. His face is still only inches away from yours but unflinching at the close contact.
“Brass,” He murmured, masked face teasing closer with his own lack of control. “I’m not what you think I am.” Your chest tightens with his words, soaked in desperation that heats your lips and cheeks.
“What’s that, sir?” You question, earning another flinch of his fingers against your skin.
“Safe… Trustworthy… Honorable.” He replies, getting even closer. The smooth material ghosted over your lips, and his breathing fanning over you wetly through the damp material. You sigh, feeling lightheaded. Weak in his hands, confused yet happy to have your life held in the palms of his hands. Confused about where his mistrust comes from, but gaining perspective every time he flinches when you address him in the way you always believed he’d feel the most revered and… loved.
“You’re wrong,” You challenge, hands moving from your sides to run up the thin shirt covering his chest. “You’re a man of fear. One that death shakes at the mention of. Even looking at you through my scope a mile away is enough to remind me you’re capable of inhuman things…” Your voice lowers, hearing thoughts straight from your soul escaping without filter from your brain. “Yet you’re human. So much more than anyone sees. Because it’s not evil that keeps you going. It’s the fear and hatred of losing anything that means something to you.” Your hand rests over his chest, hearing his heart thundering against his ribs.
“You’re not a monster, you are terrified of losing everything. That is why I call you ‘sir’, is because you’re a man unlike any other, Ghost.”
Hearing your own voice say his name like that feels so foreign. Coming off your tongue with the letters not fitting together in a way that you’d experienced. But Ghost… he reacts differently. His hands tightened around you and he hugged you against his chest tightly. His chest heaves up and down and the thunder of his heartbeat impossibly quickens until your left ear can’t hear anything but the repetitive thrum of blood coursing through his body. Heavy arms snake around you, one around your head to secure it to him and the other clinging to your waist with his hand fisting into your shirt until it’s skin-tight on your stomach. The Lieutenant practically shakes against you, using your much smaller frame to steady himself.
Yet he’s dropping to one knee on the ground, bringing you down with him until he’s nearly cradling you and softly rocking your weight back and forth. Soothing himself in much the same way a child would after scraping their knee on the sidewalk and the tears have begun to dry up. God, it made the massive man feel so weak; much like you did after he’d yelled at you a week ago. Both of you kneeled on the floor now with all of your wounds opened up to each other and had silently found a calm within the eye of a destructive storm that had been raging against the pair of you while everyone on the outside had been simply looking on with bated breath to see how the ending would play out.
“Brass - I…” Ghost’s voice choked up again, his arms tightening around you. “God, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t ignore you anymore… I’m losing my mind.”
You lean into his chest harder, arms struggling to reach all the way around his wide back in an attempt to support him a little bit. You understood through the way he was grabbing at anything on you he could desperately. So you did all you could and rubbed your hand up and down his back quietly allowing him the time to work through his thoughts. Both of you had been hurt by this, and while the Lieutenant’s form of apology came in the way he’d ushered you for help when you needed it most and unquestionably been the reason behind the way your quarters looked. Now it was you, cradling a man who’d never shown a single crack in his armor, feeling the weight of so many emotional wounds that he was practically bleeding out with pain and palpable regret.
“You don’t have to…” You whisper, resting your forehead against his.
Ghost just nods his head, panting heavily and giving a low sort of whine. “I’m so sorry…”
You smile sadly. “I’m sorry too.”
His eyes soften more, blinking away at wetness brimming at his waterline. “Say it again… please. I need to hear it. God, please.”
“It’s okay…” Your hands cradle his cheeks, feeling the sharp lines and hard muscles. “I’m right here, Ghost. We’re going to do this over again… Together, Ghost.”
Nodding weakly, he meets your gaze as you say his name again. Reveling in it. “Together… together, with you.”
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I'm right here! (Oscar Piastri)
People seem to forget you're dating Oscar
Note: english is not my first language. Another Oscar piece 🫶
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
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Cw: jealous themes
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3
"Do you think this will translate as well on the track though?", Phil, the head of the engineering department, asked as you showed him the latest set of data.
"Even with the interval we've set for changes, these numbers show it could improve performance, especially in race pace", you pointed to the calculations on the side.
"We would only have it for Miami, though", he reasoned, "we don't have enough time to get this done for Shanghai and I don't think it would be wise to test this in a track we haven't raced in five years", Amelia argued as you nodded in agreement, "but it looks promising - good job, Y/N", she patted your back.
"Would you feel comfortable talking about it in the meeting with Zak, Andrea and the mechanics? You have been the one working the most with this, makes sense for you to be the one taking point. Lando and Oscar should join you as well - I think they're doing something on the Sim", William mused.
"Absolutely! Yes, Oscar said he was driving a new set up and strategy Tom also wants to discuss in the meeting", you offered with a smile.
"Having insider information makes this easier - I don't have to check every single e-mail and wonder about things, especially Oscar's schedule", Amelia chuckled, rubbing your shoulder before she got up.
As everyone gathered in the meeting room, you set your laptop up so the latest data would be seen by everyone as you spoke about the changes, "we don't think nor expect this will be ready for China, but we're hoping to have the new package in Miami already - gives us enough time to work on it and the track there is ideal for us to have an idea of how this could play out for the rest of the season", you concluded.
"I agree - I think China will be damage control racing and we're accepting it as it goes", Andrea stated.
"We just need to get going with these then and also get the guys to try it out on the- Oh! Speaking of the devil", Zak chuckled as Oscar and Lando stepped inside the meeting room.
"So that's that, I think - thank you for all your work and let's hope we can bring some points next weekend", the British driver said before everyone scattered out.
Closing your laptop and getting your tablet, you held them against your torso so you could go and set them back to your station before lunch. You didn't make it very far as Oscar stood just outside the room, his hand snaking up your back carefully as he didn't want to startle you.
"Good morning, love", he smiled, kissing your cheek and walking with you.
"Morning, Osc", you kissed his cheek back, "how was training?", you wondered.
"Same old - went for a run this time, though, it was nice enough outside", your boyfriend offered as you reached your desk, tidying it a little bit before leaving to get some lunch, walking hand in hand.
You didn't expect to fall for a driver, especially after the relationship you had with Lando. You behaved like siblings, often pranking eachother, and it had helped you grow more confident around him and the senior staff when you felt you were all but a small intern. Over the years, you grew more comfortable as your ideas and pitches would get considered and tested, finally feeling like your place was well earned and that at the right time, the development would come to bring McLaren to the top where it belonged.
When Oscar joined the team, however, you didn't expect to feel the way you felt about the Australian driver. He was handsome, very shy and very kind and thoughtful as he sat all through the meetings as you explained the changes. Jeopardising your career was something you didn't want to do, but after some not so careful touches and glances, the team assured you it wouldn't be an issue in case you and Oscar were to pursue a relationship together.
"Here's my favourite team-mate! And she brought Oscar with her!", Lando joked as you sat at the same table as him.
Swatting his neck playfully, you sat down next to him so you could face Oscar as he put his tray down, "I will revoke new updates package from you and you'll be stuck in the midfield", you taunted before you started eating.
"Do you want to spend the night at my place? I need to sort a few things out still this afternoon, but I'm hoping I can leave on time today", you squinted your eyes.
"What do you mean on time?", Lando quirked an eyebrow.
"Yesterday, she got so caught up in the calculations, I barely got a text out of her when I asked her if she wanted to have dinner with me", Oscar chuckled as you held hands on top of the table, playing with his fingers, "what was it you texted me? 'I'm having a breakthrough' I think it was", your boyfriend offered.
"I did, though! Amelia checked it over and we might be onto something - I have to go to Race Base this afternoon so they can check them out", you shrugged your shoulders."We're spending the whole afternoon in the sim", Oscar checked with you, "when you get off, then we can leave together - how does that sound?".
Coming back to your place after you stopped by the supermarket, you set the bag on the counter and pulled out all of the ingredients you bought to make sure the dinner would be suitable and appropriate to Oscar's plan.
"I haven't had a proper cuddle today", Oscar pulled you to him, beggining to litter kisses on your forehead all the way to your cheeks and jaw, "I can't ever do this at the center", he mumbled against your neck, tickling you.
"We could, just where there are no other team members", you giggled before cupping his cheeks, "which happens to be nowhere most of the time", before you kissed his lips.
"I'm going to start working on the chicken", Oscar said after you stole a few kisses, "are you going to be in the Center for the race?".
"No, I'm travelling with the team", you smiled as you took the fresh pasta out of the bag, "which means we can spend more time together - and people will actually see us together", you mumbled the last part.
"People know we're together, love", he smiled, cutting up the last bit of garlic and tossing it in the pan.
"Sometimes it doesn't seem like it - they didn't see me in Jeddah and the rumours flew out of control", you wiped your hands on the kitchen towell before hugging Oscar's back, resting your cheek between his shoulder blades.
"You know how the media works - they see the smallest hint to something they want to see and then they're there", he offered, taking one of his hands to squeeze your hip, "you're the one here, aren't you?", he tsked.
.
"Where are you going?", Oscar asked as he saw you grab a tablet and push the chair back under the table, "I thought we could have some time together now".
"The stewards picked out eight cars at random to get checked over a few components - Mike and Barry are waiting for me", you offered, pecking his lips quickly, "hopefully they're just not messing around with our schedule because everything is supposed to be how it is!", you smiled before you started to walk out.
"I'll go with you, then", your boyfriend assured, "can't have you go to the wolves on your own when you can have company, beautiful".
Oscar walked up to the building with you, kissing your temple before you stepped inside, "I left some data from the sprint for you to look at, and tell Lando I also left a file for him with his tire deg - I told Will to do it, but he might forget!", you alerted before letting him go.
Knowing how long it would take, he went back to the McLaren garage, stopping whenever fans snapped a couple of pictures or autographs.
By the time you were back in the hotel room after the sprint and qualifying, Oscar went to the bathroom so he could have a shower, leaving you to lay on the bed and scroll through social media.
You looked at the photos the media team had posted, along with the stories where you could spot yourself in the background and spotted a few comments as you flicked through the carrousel of pictures, the comments under it weren't something you hadn't seen before.
Hear me out, Oscar and Elaine are the perfect match
I know, right? 😭 honestly, they need to get together! They would be so cute together
She's so polite and put together, but I get rhe vibe that she's really shy too, they would be perfect for eachother
Are we forgetting Y/N? aka Oscar's girlfriend
I still can't believe the people at the top have let their engineer date a driver
Y/N's way too out there, I call PR relationship
She couldn't even build a great car, I'm not sure why you would defend her
She was literally the reason the car and the turnaround last year and we started getting podiums?
These have been the best 12 months in terms of development, what are you on about? Just because she's with Oscar, you can't dig at her like that
The last few comments don't come up too often, but you had to admit it was nice when they did even if they did nothing to the way you felt.
The green eyed monster took over more times that you'd like. You work with numbers, probabilities and direct correlations, so it was hard to miss the reason behind how you were feeling.
"Why are you looking at your phone like that? You promised you wouldn't work once we got back to the room", Oscar warned, using the towell to dry his hair before he looked at you again.
"I'm not working", you mumbled, locking the phone and setting it on your stomach, pondering whether or not you should talk to Oscar about this.
"That long silence tells me that there is something bothering you", Oscar began, "I'm not saying you have to talk about it right now - I won't force you to -, but I'm here for you when you want to do it", he offered earnestly.
"I'm jealous of you and Elaine", you stated, earning a quirked eyebrow from your boyfriend.
"Me and Elaine? The communications' intern?", he looked for some clarification.
"Yes!", you answered loudly.
"We don't - I don't even spend that much time with her, what do you mean?", Oscar asked.
"I know you don't, but people online seem to think you should! First, it was that actress that McLaren invited for Abu Dhabi - the weekend where Natalie and Naomi kept approaching us because they wanted to chat and there was actual visual proof we were together after all the rumours -, now they're saying how you should go out with Elaine!", you admitted, "they're all saying you really should have someone and that she should be the one to go, that she has all the qualities you should look for and I-", you took a big breath in, "I'm literally over there, every single day of the races - in the garage, sometimes in the pitwall!", you stated, "I barely do any races from the Center anymore, so it's not like people forgot that I exist!".
"Love, I'd never do that to you - you're the only person I care about like that", Oscar replied instantly.
"I know you don't, but it hurts to see", you admitted, "comments people make about my boyfriend and how he really should start dating someone when our relationship is public - I'm there, I see them, they see me!", you let a tear fall down your cheek, "there's only so much I can do to make it obvious, Osc!".
Oscar sat down next to you on the bed, throwing the towell on the floor for the moment so he could pull you to face him.
"Y/N, I didn't know it was bothering you so much, I don't even notice all of that", your boyfriend craddled your face in his hands, thumbs wiping the tears that continued to fall and looking into your eyes.
"I never told you and I know you don't read all of the comments", you reasoned, "I just thought it would stop at some point! Everyone keeps saying that you should have someone and I want them to think I'm that someone - because I am!", you said bitterly.
"Is there something you'd like me to do? That would make you feel better about it?", Oscar combed your bangs away and behind your ears.
"What can we do anyway? Have you walk around with a t-shirt that says "I have a girlfriend - Y/N, the engineer"?", you scoffed.
"I will do that if you think it will help - throw in a headband with "Y/N's boyfriend" too if it helps!", he tried to pry a smile out of you.
"Don't be silly", you playfully shoved his chest before holding his hands in yours, "I honestly have no idea what to do, but I know I want it to stop without putting our jobs on the line", you pouted.
"Maybe an Instagram post from us then? Something chilled but serious enough so anyone can get the hint - and I wouldn't mind arriving into the paddock with you in the morning", your boyfriend suggested.
"Oscar, I have to be there way earlier than you need to", you argued.
"Then I'll be there earlier, I'll have breakfast there with you and we'll spend more time together in front of everyone - as much as you feel comfortable with", Oscar offered you an assuring smile, "I don't want anyone else the way I want you, I don't love anyone the way I love you, Y/N".
Smiling at the honesty and safety he was transmitting you, you kissed his lips, starting with small pecks before one last long kiss, letting your foreheads touch as you pulled away, "thank you, Osc, I love you".
The next morning, reporters were surprised when they saw the McLaren driver show up in the paddock so early, his hand laced in yours as they asked a couple of questions.
"My girlfriend had to come in earlier, so I thought I'd join her and see a little bit of the preparations", Oscar replied before you continued to walk to the McLaren hospitality.
"Is it bring your boyfriend to work day?", Anna asked after her usual morning greeting.
"He's always with me at work though", you squinted before giggling, "but I really need people to know he's mine and that I'm here!", you half joked.
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awakenedevildays · 4 days
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"you should move in with me" Art's voice echoes off the bathroom walls, it's all so relaxing: the heat of the water around your bodies, his chest pressed against your back and his arms wrapped around you are so comfortable that it takes a while for you to realize what he just said.
"what?"
"you heard me" he murmurs against your neck "come live with me" an incredulous laugh leaves your mouth and you try to turn completely towards him, but his arms clench tighter around you and prevent you from moving enough to do so.
"may I ask why you are asking this now?" you move slightly to the side to see his face emerging from the hollow of your neck.
"I feel like we're ready to do it" his eyes avoid yours and focus instead on his fingers as they start caressing your shoulder "and it's also the next logical step in our relationship."
"You think so?" this time, despite Art's protests, you turn towards him: your breasts press against the boy's chest and his eyes fall down quickly before being brought back to yours by the hand under his chin. The tease is evident on your face and Art feels his ears warm up quickly to the realization of being caught in the act.
"I know so" and kisses the smile off your lips to distract you.
"My answer is not a no, but how do we know that our relationship is ready for this?" you ask him and, without realizing it, the agitation inside you rises: how did you know if you were ready for this step? and if you break up because you went too fast?
The tennis player frowns "what do you mean?" and the sight in front of you distracts you for a second: Art sits back against the back of the tub to stand more upright and listen to you better, his arms, after moving his curly damp hair out of his face, leans on the edges of the tub, his wet and smooth chest shines and his legs are open and bent to the sides to give you more space between them. If you weren't so determined to finish the topic you were having, you'd kiss him to death, but you're a woman on a mission and you can't get distracted.
"I mean, some of my behaviors might irritate you or we might fight about serious things and then we wouldn't be able to run away from our problems by going back to our apartment, we'd have to deal with these situations and be mature about what bothers us and-"
"love, you're getting worked up over nothing" he says and his expression relaxes into a smile: now that he understood that your reasons are motivated only by insecurity and not by the fact that you don't want to take the next step with him, he feels it will be easier to convince you otherwise.
"You see? this is exactly what I'm talking about! if we move in together we can't belittle each other's feelings and concerns like this. It wouldn't be healthy and-"
"love," he interrupts you again, and your hands that were gesturing in the air fall on his chest, your eyes avoid his.
Out of your mouth comes a small "…yes?" that makes the man in front of you chuckle.
"we're ready" his calm tone makes its way into your chest "we're 24 years old and we've been together since we were 19, we both have a steady job and we already know everything about each other, there's nothing you can tell me that will change my mind".
"what if we fight?"
"I can't promise you we won't fight, we fight even now that we don't live together, but it seems to me that we are pretty good at making up, if we fight we will solve it as always" it's true, you never went beyond a day without talking to each other, even if you were angry.
"what if we break up?"
"It won't happen," he answers immediately, his fingers move the locks of hair behind your ears and then rest his hands on your face, his thumbs gently caressing your cheeks.
His head lowers to chain your eyes together and you look up to facilitate his task "I won't let it happen", the security in his eyes makes you exhale a breath you didn't know you were holding.
Your eyes move around to look at the bathroom, "but I wouldn't be able to pay half the rent of this apartment"
"I don't care about that".
"but-"
"If you really want to pay something, we can split the bills," he answers hastily, at the moment Art doesn't care about how to split the expenses, he would pay everything if it meant he could spend the rest of his life next to you… he just needs your 'yes'.
Your face gets close to his, your lips a few inches away.
"okay" his eyes still fixed in yours
"'ok' what?" his smile gets brighter, he wants to hear you say it.
"I'll move in with you" you smile too.
"that's what I like to ear" he kisses you again.
Now he only had to ask you to marry him… but that will have to wait a little longer.
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Hope you guys will like it as much as I liked writing it! 🩷
(in this fic he still has long hair cause I said so)
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astaroth1357 · 1 year
Text
"MC, Who's Best in Bed??":
*on an average HoL morning, the MC is trying to enjoy a cup of tea in the dining room but there's been nothing but shouting in the House for about an hour now... They’re nearly at their wits end when the seven culprits come marching in the room themselves, glaring at esch other. Before MC can even speak, Asmo takes initiative and slams his hands down onto the table, making their teacup clatter*
Asmo: MC, you have to be the one settle this! Which one of us is best in bed???
*the MC... almost does a spit take*
MC: Excuse me???
Mammon: You heard'em! You outta know by now, so who is it??
*the MC looks at their demons like they've gone mental, but seven pairs of eyes stare back at them expectantly, hell, even determinedly. Seeing that they likely can't weasel out of this, the MC gives in with a sigh*
MC: .... Do you really want to know?
Asmo: Of course!!
Satan: We promise we'll be alright with whoever you choose...
Mammon: But it's gonna be me, right??
Satan: Shut up, Mammon!! 😡
MC: Well... if I have to pick...
MC: It's gotta be Lucifer.
Lucifer: *smiles REAL wide for a guy who's been pretending that this conversation is juvenile and beneath him...*
Lucifer: Well. I think that settles that.
*he walks over and arrogantly kisses the back of MC's hand while his brothers all groan somewhere between irritation and disappointment...*
Mammon: Look what ya did, MC, he's never gonna get over himself now!!
Lucifer: Mammoooon?
Mammon: 😨 Shit!
MC: It is Mammon, actually.
Mammon: Eeh-?? Er, s-SEE I TOLD YA!!
*he tries to act proud, and he is, but it's pretty obvious to everyone that he got caught off guard and is flustered as hell*
Mammon: W-who else could it be but the Great Mammon? Right??? This is why I'm their first!!
*Mammon continues to loudly bluster and gloat as MC gets up from the table, taking their teacup with them*
MC: It sure is~
*they peck him on the cheek, which bluescreens his brain while his brothers scoff in disgust*
Belphie: Geez, at least get a room first guys... 🙄
MC: You won’t believe me, but it's Levi.
*the brother stop, collectively look at each other, and then shake their heads*
All (INCLUDING Levi): We don't believe you.
MC: *shrugs nonchalantly and takes another sip of tea* What'd I tell ya?
Asmo: MC, you can't be serious...
MC: *looks him dead in the eye* Two. Dicks. Need I say more? Because I can! He can also-mph!!
*a confused MC gets a hand clamped over their mouth by a mortified Levi, who's still puttering around to figure out how he should feel*
Levi: M-MC! Please...!! 😣
Satan: So there ARE some things that better left unknown... Fantastic... 😰🤢
MC: It’s actually you, Satan!
Satan: *blinks* Eh? Oh really...?
*already turning his head towards Lucifer with a BIG shit-eating grin*
Satan: What do you know? Looks like we've heard it, haven't we?
Lucifer: *angerily covering up his frustration behind a stone cold poker face* So we have... Not that it matters.
Satan: Hm. Your face says otherwise. 😏
Lucifer: Don't push your luck....
MC: Asmo. It's Asmo, it's obviously Asmo!!
Asmo: THANK YOU!!
Asmo: Honestly, it's like no one understands my job description here!!
Asmo: I can, will, and do fuck better than all of you! You just have to accept that. 😌
Mammon: Ugh! Give it a rest already... 😮‍💨
MC: You know what? It's Beel.
*the brothers stop and collectively look at their absolute UNIT of a sibling.... then breathe a combined sigh of defeat*
Beel: *flustered pink from embarrassment, but still very happy to hear it* Thank you, MC. 😊
MC: You're welcome, Beel! 🙂
MC: Weirdly enough, it's Belphie...
Belphie: What do you mean, "weirdly?"
MC: I mean, if we were just going based off resumes here, I wouldn't exactly put yours on top.
MC: But you're living proof "work smarter, not harder" are words to live by. Your technique is flawless!
Belphie: .... I'm not sure how to feel about this anymore....
Bonus:
MC: *gives a blank, thousand yard stare into the middle distance*
Mammon: Uhhhm.... MC? Still there?
MC: I just realized something... I'm really am going to Hell...
Levi: Huh? But you're already here...?
MC: *gets up from the chair and starts to jog away urgently* I think I need a priest...
Belphie: What? Why?? Is being here a problem to you??? 🤬
MC: *calls out as they skid past the doorway* It is because I'm fucking an angel!!! 😫
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ghost-recs · 27 days
Note
can we get some bakugou recs 😊😊 (written and smaus pleaseee)
hello hellooo! oh man do i ever have some! you have no idea the can of worms you are opening my friend.
but first i am so sorry for how late this rec is! i wanted to get this done days ago, but the semester has been crazy packed. i'm going to get through all my asks one by one. thank you for your patience! anyways let's get into this !!
Bakugou Recs
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Garden of Lungs (Hanahaki) by oweCrew [ao3]
synopsis: you have your whole life ahead of you, a promising future and jobs lined up after UA...but these stupid flowers are going to be the death of you, literally.
i flew through this fic so fast. it was the first time i had every heard of hanahaki disease and oof to my heart. i loved it!
Late Night Calls by fictionpls [ao3]
synopsis: much to bakugou's disdain, you skipped your meals again. tch, he's basically taking care of you at this point.
cute lil fluff oneshot with bakugou as your best friend...maybe more.
Nothing More, Nothing Less by @dekustowel
synopsis: bakugou made a big whoopsies. the only way to get out of it? fake date you, the internet's sweatheart, duh!
this smau idea has a hold on me. i'm a sucker for the fake dating trope. and i mean seriously, it's bakugou! [ongoing...]
Nerd (Affectionately) by @oniku-niku
synopsis: you're in love with bakugou, have been since you were kids. there was no use in hiding the truth. but did he have to be so rude about it??
most of this smau is a big ouch to the heart. but the drama gets heavier as the story goes on and i'm here for it! happy soft ending! :)
Speak by Kikyo851 [ao3]
synopsis: you could not believe that your soulmate was such a crude and violent person...just to spite the universe and him you decide not to say a word to your "soulmate."
soulmate au in which the first words that your soulmate says to you is written on your wrist. this fulfilled my needs of a bakugou soulmate au! so cute and it is complete!
Of Snowscapes & Explosions by sugarbun [ao3]
synopsis: you've been categorized as second to shoto todoroki ever since grade school. after a frustrated vent to bakugou and a few of his cracks revealing some of his own frustrations you realize that maybe you and him aren't so different after all.
guys....when i tell you this fic is the slowest slow burn. i feel like it's so accurate to how bakugou would actually fall for someone. sadly, this fic is unfished tho and hasn't been updated in a couple years😭 but you should read it anyways.
cover shot (through the heart) by @andypantsx3
cross posted on ao3 here! cover shot (through the heart) by andypantsx3
synopsis: you're the only one who can deal with bakugou's attitude in the industry. he hasn't found something that bothers you...until he starts flirting with you, hello??
model/celebrity au. super cute fic. i'm warning you this is much spicier than some of my other recs. mdni. (also check out this author's other works. they have a lot of top tier content!!)
Motherly Love by @kweenkatsuki-fics
synopsis: bakugou gives his mom a late night call to thank her. the reason why softens her heart greatly.
super soft lil drabble that just about brings me to tears everytime i read it. in love with bakugou fr.
déjà vu by @cashmoneyyysstuff
synopsis: bakugou thinks back to some oddly familiar memories with you. and one thing always stays the same, you both are together.
oneshot the made my jaw drop. hit me hard in the feels.
untitled oneshot by @honeypirate
synopsis: being paired with your number 1 enemy for a group project proved that the universe hated you. well might as well have some fun with this and make bakugou's life just as miserable.
college au oneshot. i am always down for a good enemies to lovers trope!
risky by @kusaka6e
synopsis: moving from another country to work as a pro hero in japan was not the easiest. and a certain hot headed hero only adds to your frustrations.
oneshot about the obvious grown tension between you and pro hero dynamite.
i hope you find something you like! sorry for the late rec, have a lovely day/night!
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buckyalpine · 2 months
Text
18+ mindless rambling. I've been in such an absolute slump and idk what I want. Do I want to finish requests, finish works in progress, do nothing and think about sucking Bucky's dick and balls, even when it's soft after he's finished cause he'd be all sensitive and his cock would be all precious and pink between thighs I want to ride and recently I've had this thing with scent? It is tmi to say I'd want to bury my entire fucking face between his legs and like choke on his balls if I could and he'd smell like soap and musk and whatever is distinctly him. I said what I said and I'm sorry, idk, is this what it's like to be in heat? What is this thing I have with wanting to just hold his balls, bb just let me pet them, I'll be gentle I promise. Y'know? Or maybe you're normal so you don't know. That's fine too.
Or maybe I want to write about that idea I had with Sharon planting evidence to make it look like he's cheating on you cause she wants him all to herself.
Or maybe the idea where you have a mission where you had to pretend to be a couple and the enemy is right beside you hotel so you have to really sell those sexy noises but Bucky figures why pretend when he can really make you scream. Bonus points for the team who has bugs planted and they go from damn they're really good at pulling off that role to guys I think they're actually fucking, cut the cameras.
Or the idea I had when I first woke up where Bucky thinks getting his cock sucked is the absolute most intimate thing ever? Because his angel has his most private and sensitive places in her mouth just to make him feel good? It drives him wild because hello, she is so pretty and she's doing all these magic things with her tongue just to make him moan and it's working. It's working so well, he's making a mess in her mouth with how much precum he's leaking? FFS Then she goes and takes his balls in her mouth and its game over for him; most people brush off a blow job like it's nothing but for him? His pretty baby wants his dick in that sweet mouth of hers? He loves penetrative sex btw, a lot, but this? It's just so special for him and he loves every moment of it. Eyes closed. Back arching. Feet planted. Legs spread. Jaw slack. Head thrown back. Whole body nearly squirming on the bed. Savoring every second.
Or fuck it, maybe I want a nasty nasty Bucky. Now this one may be a tad bit too far thought I have sort of wrote about it before but super territorial Bucky. Jealous Bucky. Bucky who drags you off to his room and strips you down to nothing, pulling his cock out while keeping his clothes on, jerking off and cumming all over your body just to mark you. I'm talking spread out on the floor while he towers over you and demands you to spread your legs open so he can make a mess anywhere he pleases.
I can't write, can't finish anything for shit rn, also why have I just not updated my masterlist?? tf.
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neptuneiris · 6 months
Text
Behind the Scenes (01/05)
Behind the Reencounter
pairing: actor!aemond × fem!reader
summary: Due to your work as a make-up artist and wardrobe assistant, you meet Aemond, a very successful young actor with whom you work and all professional relationship breaks down and a secret relationship arises, until you get pregnant and decide to run away from him so as not to ruin his successful and promising career. After almost two years, you and he unexpectedly meet again.
word counter: 7.6k
series masterlist • next part
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hello! i'm back with another mini series! yay!
god, i'm so excited about this, it's nothing like what i've written before but the excitement and inspiration got the better of me.
also i must say that i had seen stories with this plot about daddy aemond and i wanted to make my own, adding angst, which i know you like and a story that i came up with that i really hope you like a lot:)
without more to say, enjoy beautiful people, I look forward to your comments, don't leave me without knowing what you think please!
warnings: angst, language, sexual content, smut
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Your state of nervousness and anticipation is not much of help when it comes to the first day of your new job.
The film studio is a world of constant activity and you know that just on your first day it's going to be hectic. At least in your area which is Wardrobe and Makeup, it's a completely active area and you have to be available almost all the time.
You let out a long breath and before you leave, you stop in the studio's small nursery where your son, Aenar, barely a year old, spends his day while you work on set.
You can't help but watch him with adoration, a certain sadness and longing, for nothing would make you happier than to stay here with him, but you know you can't afford it.
These last few months have been hard, your income has been complicated and you need the money from this new job to be able to survive and make sure nothing is missing for him, your little boy.
Aenar crawls on the floor, exploring the world around him, while the woman in charge keeps her distance from you and him, taking care of other children. And when his big, curious blue eyes look up at you, he lets out a giggle of joy and stretches out his arms to you.
You bend down with him and take him in your arms tenderly and adoringly.
"You don't want me to leave, do you?" you murmur fondly as you leave a kiss on his cheek.
He babbles excitedly, unable to formulate coherent words, but his smile completely lights up your insides and you respond with giggles and smiles.
You take advantage of the little time you have before work to play and laugh with him for a moment. But eventually your time to leave arrives.
You leave a kiss on his forehead and with a sigh of defeat, you say goodbye.
"Mommy has to go but she'll be back soon, okay, my little dragon?"
His little hands explore for a second all over your face, making you laugh and you leave a couple more kisses on both of his chubby cheeks, loving to hear his laughter and loving to see the huge smile he places on his pink lips.
"I love you, sweetheart."
You leave one more kiss on his forehead and make sure one last time to cover his head well with his cap, taking advantage of the fact that it's November and Winter has arrived to hide his straight hair.
You distract him with all the colorful toys that are distributed on the floor for all the children and take the opportunity to leave, otherwise he will cry if he sees you leaving. You exchange a look of understanding with the woman in charge and finally head back to your workplace.
The trailer door opens with a soft creak as you enter, feeling the mixture of excitement and nervousness run down your spine. You had been looking forward to this moment with anticipation, but also apprehension.
For you knew that your past would come back to haunt you.
But you know you need to be here.
The first thing you see are the lighted mirrors with their respective chairs and vanities in front of them, where makeup and wardrobe experts hurry to prepare the actors for the day's filming.
A scent of pressed powder and beauty products fills the air, creating a familiar atmosphere. And when you barely have time to absorb the scene, a brown-haired girl approaches you with an enthusiastic, warm smile.
"Hi! Y/N, right? The new makeup artist."
She points at you with her index finger and a thoughtful look, without wiping away her smile.
"Hi, yes, it's me," you nod to her, as you return the small smile.
"Perfect! I'm Jess, the wardrobe assistant," she extends her hand to you in a friendly gesture, "Nice to meet you and welcome!"
You can't help but be relieved by the friendly reception, then shake your hand with hers.
"Nice to meet you too, Jess. Thank you for having me."
"Oh we're so excited to have you here, I've been looking forward to your arrival," she confides, "Let me show you where you can drop your stuff off and then I'll give you directions, okay?"
Again you nod, grateful for the kindness of Jess, who leads you toward a row of lockers where you can store your things, then gives you directions.
"First, let's go over the schedule for the day," she tells you, opening a folder with the itinerary for the shoot. "We have this first scene where we need to make sure every detail is perfect. And you'll be in charge of the wardrobe for the main characters today."
She indicates without losing the kindness in her tone and you nod, understanding.
"So, take the wardrobe list for each actor and check that we have everything in order."
He hands you a detailed list, making sure that you with your new addition are aware of every detail.
"After that, we'll move on to makeup," she instructs you, "Sam, our talented makeup artist, will give you a brief orientation on the look we're going for. Don't worry, she's amazing and will guide you through the whole process."
Jess grabs a pair of robes and hands them to you.
"Now, let's get to work on the wardrobe. When you've gone through everything, head over to the makeup area, okay?"
Again you nod, understanding the directions perfectly and dive into your tasks with enthusiasm, getting off to a very good start and feeling completely comfortable.
Besides, this is nothing you haven't done before, as way back when you used to work for the BBC television network right here in King's Landing as well, this was your job, so there's nothing new or complicated for you.
When Jess, frantically going through her checklist, looks up at you.
"Oh, Y/N, we need more pins for costume fixes. Could you go to the prop depot and get a package, please? I'd really appreciate it."
You nod with a small smile.
"Sure, I'll be right back."
With a determined pace, you step out of the trailer and head to the depot which isn't far away and start looking for the package, which you didn't think would take you some time since there are so many packages of different things mixed up.
You search through many huge boxes, until you finally find the package of pins and let out a relieved sigh.
You leave the huge room and close the door behind you, walking back. And as you walk, as you pay attention to your surroundings, you feel a mixture of nostalgia and nervousness, as these hallways, permeated with the buzz of film activity, take you back to memories you've been trying to bury.
You let out a long breath, not wanting to think about it now, and concentrate on your work.
As you enter back into the trailer, everything is immersed in a constant murmur of conversations and the activity of preparations, at the same time as the trailer door closes with a soft click behind you.
You are about to enter the area where the tables and chairs and mirrors and everyone else are when you hear a somewhat familiar voice in a distant echo in the middle of it all, completely stopping your footsteps.
"…they said at the training scene I wasn't supposed to look any different in particular."
You frown, thinking that maybe you're mishearing and are mistaking that voice for someone else's.
But still you advance just three steps, sharpening your hearing with a wary face, waiting, wanting to make sure.
"And which one of these for that scene?" you hear one of the girls in charge of wardrobe.
You wait for the answer from that attentive and completely cautious voice, thinking that it must probably be a figment of your mind that wants you to believe things that aren't.
"I think the brown one," you hear that voice say back to the girl.
Your heart stops completely in that instant.
No.
It can't be.
You think completely incredulous and terrified.
You stand completely paralyzed and with a face of total shock as the sound of that voice continues to echo softly throughout the interior of the trailer, flowing conversation between him and the makeup artist.
The pulse in your throat beats with a mixture of surprise and anxiety, suddenly losing strength in your body, so you lean against one of the walls as you feel an emotional vertigo begin to emerge.
All those buried memories, suddenly resurface, as it is no imagination of yours and you know it is him because his voice has not changed and you could recognize it anywhere.
It is him.
He is here.
You close your eyes for a moment, trying to regain control of your emotions, but you can't, and you can't believe this is happening right now, on your first day of work.
Completely cautious, you slowly peek out, wanting to be even more sure and wanting to see that it's all just your mind making it up.
But as soon as you catch a glimpse of that signature flash of platinum hair, your heart rate begins to race faster than normal.
And there he is, with his hair pulled back in a small low bun as he discusses the details of the scene with the makeup artist, a scene that resonated with similarities to moments you and he shared in the pass.
Disbelief completely invades your eyes and your entire face as you watch him, surprised to see him after exactly one year since that day. You notice every gesture and every feature that is still etched in detail in your mind.
He, oblivious to your presence, continues the conversation, but something in your expression begins to tremble.
You go back in time to the spark you both shared in the corridors of that studio, the looks of complicity, the many nights you shared together and the whispers in the dim light of the dressing rooms.
But you also remember that day, when you saw him completely frustrated but willing to be there for you, where his manager and his entire team talked to him about the consequences and you also remember everything he promised you, on hidden, which is why you decided to run away when you were only three weeks pregnant with him.
A lump forms in your throat and standing there, watching him, after so long, tears begin to invade your eyes.
But Jess announces your presence as she emerges from the back where the dressing rooms are, watching you at the entrance completely static and with a look she can't instantly identify.
"Y/N! There you are! Did you get the pins?"
And that's when it happens.
Saying your name loud enough for everyone inside the trailer to hear, it catches his attention, who confused and attentive watches where Jess is heading and that's when the gazes meet.
And in that instant, a spark of recognition crosses the face of Aemond, Aemond Targaryen, the man you decided to run away from so as not to ruin his career and the father of your child.
His healthy eye opens wide and surprise and disbelief overcome him as he sees you, right there, less than five meters away from him, the woman who carried his child with her and whom he sought so much after she disappeared completely from his life.
Silent, with the urgency of tears threatening to overflow, you step back, watching him cautiously and fearfully, at the same time beginning to tremble all over.
"Y/N," he utters your name with a tone of surprise and longing, as if he can't believe it, beginning to slowly rise from the chair.
You recoil further, as all the sadness, pain and anguish wash over you as you remember the past and think at the same time of your son, your sweet little boy.
However, your first instinct is to run away. Again.
Without a word and without looking back, you turn around and exit the trailer quickly before you could no longer hold back and tears involuntarily flow from your eyes, taking with you the image of Aemond and the echoes of a past you cannot escape and forget.
You don't care about your job, you don't care that you left everything just like that, you only think about running away and going quickly for your son, crying and completely terrified.
Aemond watches you walk away, unable to move and unable to speak, with a look of deep disbelief, surprise, bewilderment, regret and remorse while the people around him do not understand anything.
He knows that he made many mistakes in the past and he knows that you have a right to feel upset and hurt. But he also knows that you also made mistakes and you recognize that too.
But for now, you run away and he stands still, losing strength, where you both barely process what just happened and at the same time travel to the past, where it all started and where it all ended.
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ALMOST 2 YEARS AGO.
At just twenty-one years old, you barely graduated from college and landed a great job opportunity with the BBC television network to work as a professional makeup artist and wardrobe assistant.
And now at the age of twenty-two and having been working for the network for two years, your life couldn't be better.
You have the job of your dreams, you have achieved so much despite the fact that your parents had no faith in you for choosing to study something that didn't guarantee you a future, and now your income is enough to allow you to live an independent life where you lack nothing.
When then, a new project comes up, a new TV series where you participate full time and where you are passionate about what you do.
That's when you meet him, one of the main actors of the show, Aemond Targaryen, a young, successful twenty-four year old actor who has already attracted the attention of the show business in his early days with a very promising future.
But it was not only for his incredible talent, he was also recognized and attracted a lot of attention for his unusual appearance, beautiful bright blue eye and a peculiar long platinum hair.
In his interviews he explains the origin of the genetic descriptions of him and his family, which is what causes a lot of doubt in every interviewer and also in his fans, wanting to know his origin.
That's why when they tell you that you will be assisting him in his makeup and wardrobe, you can't help but feel nervous but also a little excited to work with him.
And when the day finally arrives, Aemond Targaryen is actually quite a nice and accessible man to work with.
In the first few weeks of working and shooting the show, your interaction with him was completely professional.
You take it upon yourself to bring out the best in his image for the screen, where he does his part, always being friendly, willing and cooperative with you to follow directions and achieve the perfect look.
Always both of you at the beginning had normal and casual conversations to start forming trust, where everything becomes routine.
And it's not until he would say anything silly to make you laugh and where you both got to the point where you allowed yourselves to talk completely freely without being judged.
The shared laughs and casual comments created a comfortable and relaxed atmosphere, where the relationship started to become more friendly and slowly stopped being so strictly professional.
And when you least expected it, you looked forward to working with him, doing his makeup and wardrobe, enjoying his company.
Even when he would arrive first at the trailer to get ready, he would look forward to your arrival.
And when you arrived, you couldn't help but smile a little shyly in his direction because of his intense gaze on you through the mirror, making you feel a little nervous.
As you carefully applied his makeup, Aemond couldn't help but notice that attention you paid to every detail on him, having you so close to his face, being a moment he also longed for it to come.
And as the days passed, accidental brushes and gestures that went beyond professionalism began to emerge.
During makeup sessions, the glances became more intense and prolonged, as if you were looking for something beyond the superficial appearance, where you noticed how he was looking at you beyond the professional surface.
But it wasn't something that bothered you, on the contrary, it made you feel inexplicable sensations that at the same time pleased you, knowing perfectly well that he wasn't like that with anyone else in your area, only with you.
And you both also made sure to act that way only when it was just the two of you or to do it subtly when you were around other people.
But you also knew the dangerous game you were both playing.
However, it was too late, you really started to like him too much even though you knew that the idea of him and you could not be possible.
In the film industry, relationships between colleagues are technically not allowed or frowned upon. Rumors and speculation about romances can alter fan perceptions and, in some cases, affect job opportunities.
In addition, you both have studio contracts and other projects in progress. And acting in such a way, where the intention of both is more than clear, can affect casting decisions and the perceptions of directors and producers.
And for Aemond, being an up-and-coming young actor with a solid fan base, the revelation of an affair can bring negative criticism to his public image.
His manager and team have told him that maintaining the coveted bachelor image may be convenient and commercially advantageous for him in his projects to attract audiences, as he is attractive and very talented.
Even though he had an accident as a child where he lost his left eye and now wears a prosthesis, that attracts more attention from people and they want to know more about him, causing him to be more relevant.
But all this mattered little to Aemond as he shared more moments with you.
As the relationship became more enjoyable, his feelings and emotions became more and more evident and so did yours, starting to overcome the barrier imposed by the entertainment industry.
And one day that line of professionalism that both were trying to maintain but was becoming increasingly difficult, finally broke down completely.
On a filming afternoon, you and Aemond meet in the wardrobe area, where you make sure he looks perfect in his required clothes for the day and he stands completely still, cooperating and watching you at all times.
The conversation between the two of you flows naturally, as it has so many times before, but this time, something in the air seems different, like a gentle tension.
"After we finish this final scene, we should go celebrate, don't you think?"
He suggests with a soft little smile, but his eye reflects an intensity and that desire he can't hide when he's with you.
"Sure," you say with a willing little smile, still securing his clothes, "With John, Rose and Lana?" you mention your partners.
"No," he murmurs, shaking his head softly, "Just you and me."
You look directly into his eye with a slightly surprised and bewildered look, not expecting to hear that, beginning to feel nervous at his words and also at the proximity of the two of you.
"But…" you look at him a little incredulously and with a small sad and disappointed smile, "We can't."
"Yes we can," he tells you softly, "We just have to be very careful and not tell anyone."
You watch him with a small spark of amusement on your face, smiling softly in his direction, not believing he's serious.
And it is at that moment that the looks on both of your faces makes it clear that the connection you both share is deeper than you both believed and where Aemond, more than anything else, makes his true intentions clear and wants to put them into practice, after so long.
A complicit silence surrounds the two and it is as if time stands still for an instant.
Aemond, with a soft expression, unable to contain himself any longer, gently takes your face in his hands and you let him, because you want him, even though you shouldn't.
"There's something I've wanted to do for a long time," he confesses, his voice laden with sincerity.
You, intrigued and captivated by the intensity in his eye, his beautiful blue eye and the closeness of the bodies, look at him with attention and desire.
"What is it?" you murmur, almost in a whisper.
And without another word, Aemond leans toward you and closes the distance between you, bringing his lips together with yours in a needy but slow and deep kiss that you reciprocate instantly.
It all happens in an instant of surprise, followed by a sweet surrender to the attraction that had grown between the two of you.
Time comes to a complete stop as you both sink into that first kiss, where Aemond's hands gently grip your waist and you respond with the same intensity by locking your arms around his neck and clinging to his lips.
You don't want him to stop, you don't want any of this to end.
Everything feels perfect and just as you imagined in your fantasy mind of wanting to live this moment.
And the moment doesn't end, as he pulls you further into the dressing room while still kissing you, leaning you against a vanity and pressing your body completely against his, making you gasp and respond to his needy kiss in kind.
Unfortunately, the kiss doesn't last as long as you would have liked, as a voice screams throughout the trailer.
"Next scene in five minutes! Everyone to the set, please!"
You and Aemond part abruptly, with surprised and terrified looks on your faces, instantly keeping your distance and pretending nothing has happened.
You head along with him toward the set, trying to hide any trace of the intimacy you both shared moments ago. And as you immerse yourself in the frenetic pace of the shoot, the complicity between the two of you manifests itself in small gestures and stolen glances.
And that's when the little relationship secretly begins.
Keeping the relationship a secret became a balancing act for both of you. As the connection you and he shared intensified, the need to hide the relationship became more and more crucial.
In the trailer and on set when you were around more people, as he did you had to learn to act as naturally as ever, carefully concealing any trace of intimacy.
Encounters became completely secret, kisses and caresses behind dressing rooms or in the trailer when you were alone, always alert to the possibility of being discovered. Even in the dressing room, it became a meeting place, where they could enjoy a moment alone.
You could also talk freely by call or text, but both he and you preferred to see each other in person.
That's why on days off, which were few, Aemond always took you to more private places. One night, for example, he took you to dinner at a small restaurant outside of town.
If it wasn't a restaurant, it was to invite you to a small coffeeshop and more discreet places, out of the reach of prying eyes, where he still had to go covered by his characteristic hair.
And when neither of them had the spirit to be always alert, you went to his apartment or he to yours, where they could act with total freedom and even go further.
In Aemond you found a friend, an accomplice and practically the perfect man for you, not because of what he possesses and who he is out there for everyone to see, but because of who he really is, inside.
You simply couldn't help but fall deeply in love with him and that fortunately he reciprocated as strongly as you did, wanting you and only you.
And although the fear of discovery added a touch of dangerous excitement to the relationship, the weight of keeping it all a secret was beginning to generate emotional conflict.
The strain of keeping up appearances and the constant need for vigilance began to wear on you. And as the relationship progresses, you can't help but wonder if there will ever be a chance to be free with Aemond.
But you both know it's not possible.
Much less will it be when one day, Aemond lets you know the news.
"I need to talk to you about something," he says in a serious and defeated tone, taking your hands in his.
He has come unexpectedly to your apartment and that seemed strange to you, but now that he is telling you this and behaving like this, you know it is for a reason and it is not a good one.
"Is everything okay?" you ask him intently and with your brow furrowed.
He sighs before answering, looking sad.
"Production and my manager are pressuring me to fake a relationship with my co-star in a promotional campaign. They say it will help generate more interest in the show."
And there are the consequences of having this relationship on the quiet with him.
Aemond's face contorts in anguish as he sees the expression on your face of mild surprise and definitely not expecting to hear that.
"I promise you that I refused and did everything in my power not to do this Y/N, but I didn't accomplish nothing and…. I-It shouldn't take more than three months, I swear."
He explains, but the sharp pain in your chest is already there and remains, as you begin to imagine what this is all going to be like.
You press your lips together in a thin line and not knowing what to say or what exactly to do, you let out a long breath and watch your hands with his, processing what he is telling you and what he will have to do next.
Even though you understand the demands of the industry and everything about marketing, still the idea of Aemond faking a relationship with someone else makes you feel weird and uncomfortable.
But what can you really do? Nothing.
This is his job and you're not going to get upset with him when you know it's not his fault and that this is what he does in order to make a living.
"When?" you ask him watching him with your soft gaze but with a slightly sad expression.
He lets out a sigh.
"I don't know, I just know that they are already setting everything up," he tells you frustrated with his low and serious voice, "But I need you to be okay with this, Y/N," he looks at you worried, "I know it will be hard for both of us but I don't want this to affect us when you know the truth behind everything and why I do it."
You watch him for a few seconds without saying anything, as you feel a lump in your throat and also feel the helplessness he conveys for all of this, as he really doesn't want to do this.
But he must meet the professional expectations of the production company and you have no choice but to support him.
"Well," you say softly, trying to hide your hurt look by forcing a small smile to reassure him, "These are the production company's decisions and you must do it. And you don't need to worry about me, you know I'll support you."
He takes his gaze away from yours for a second, letting out a longer sigh than before, then takes your face gently in his hands.
"Of course I worried about you, sweetheart," he murmurs with tiredness, then draws you into a tight, tender embrace.
He leaves a gentle kiss on your head and even though he is relieved that you understood, he still feels remorse and anguish because if he were you, of course he would disagree and it would hurt quite a bit.
But this is work and he really doesn't have much choice.
And when you least expect it, the moment arrives.
The next few weeks are a complete whirlwind of emotions for you as you watch the fictional relationship of Aemond and his co-star, the famously gorgeous actress Cerelle Lannister, prepare to come to light.
Joint promotions take them both to photo shoots and interviews where they must show complicity and affection. And seeing Aemond sharing moments that used to be just yours and his, now in the public sphere with someone other than you, becomes a painful test.
One evening, you see photos of Aemond and Cerelle having dinner at a famous restaurant downtown and all the photos show the complicit smiles and affectionate gestures.
And even though you know it's part of the act, you can't help but feel a knot in your stomach seeing them together. And even worse, seeing how the public is fascinated and in love with their relationship.
It is for all this that you no longer see him frequently and there is only communication by messages.
And when he finally has a space in his schedule, he takes the opportunity to see you, where you at all times try to look as if you are not affected by all this, so as not to worry him and frustrate him when you know he has a lot of weight on his shoulders.
He still apologizes and tries to make it up to you, but in the midst of your soothing words, the pain is reflected in your gaze.
And that's what you do for the next few weeks, you continue to support him from the shadows while he and Cerelle put on a show and are the center of attention.
At first you had told yourself not to see anything about them on the internet, but you can't help it and you see the pictures, read the headlines in the magazines and with each new performance, you feel a slight sharp pain in your heart.
When the day of a big awards event arrives where directors, producers, script writers, the academy members, the press and of course the actors and actresses attend, where precisely Aemond and Cerelle attend together as a couple officially in front of all public eye.
Images and videos of the two sharing laughter and affectionate gestures spread through every social network, while you, from your apartment, watch the scene with a mixture of pride as this is important in Aemond's career but also feel a deep sadness that threatens to overflow.
You wish it was you instead of her.
It's been months since you and Aemond started this relationship behind everyone's back and you want that, to be able to touch him and be with him in public.
But you can't.
And you can't stand this anymore either.
You decide to watch movies and change the channel, not wanting to focus on them anymore, trying to ignore your emotions and your wounded heart, not wanting to do anything else tonight but just forget and stay in the comfort of your bed.
After two hours, your phone starts ringing, indicating an incoming call and when you look at the screen, Aemond's name appears, but you decide not to answer.
You don't feel like talking to him, you don't want to get upset with him when he is not to blame for anything and start an unnecessary fight, so you prefer not to talk.
But after that call, Aemond insistent calls you a couple more times, in which you decide not to answer as well.
At your lack of response, he can't help but feel worried, thinking that you must be feeling bad because of him even though you understand why he's doing all this. And once the rewards are over, he in covered takes his car and drives to your apartment.
As he drives, his mind is filled with thoughts of how to talk to you and find the right words to ease the tension in both of you. But the nervousness doesn't let him think clearly nor has he forgotten the overwhelming awards he had to attend to.
Once he arrives at your door, he just hopes you're okay, even though he knows you're not and knocks three times.
"Y/N? It's Aemond," he says cautiously and hopeful that you will open the door, wanting to speak and see you.
The silence lingers for a few moments before you finally open the door, where the slight surprise of seeing him here at this hour is reflected in your gaze, not understanding anything. And he just sighs, feeling guilty.
"You didn't respond to my calls or messages and I got worried," he explains to you briefly and in a soft voice, "I needed to see you."
Despite all the emotions you're feeling, the fact that he's come looking for you shows you that he really cares about you and wants to do everything he can to make you okay.
You watch him silently for a moment and nod slowly in his direction with a look of understanding.
"I'm fine," you reply softly, wanting to convince him as well as yourself.
"No, I know you're not," he insists, concerned, "I-I… I know this is all very difficult and I don't want you to feel pressured, but…" he lets out a frustrated sigh, "I'm here to talk if you need to."
Appreciating his sincerity silently and seeing how terribly worried he is, you let him in.
The two of you have a difficult but necessary conversation, where neither of you have any intention of ending this thing you have together and where he's willing to show you that he doesn't care about Cerelle, just you.
"I only want you, baby. You and no one else," he murmurs lovingly and with desire in his gaze, closing his eye and catching your lips in a needy, deep kiss.
You respond in kind, gasping into his lips and bringing your hands to stroke his hair, clinging to him completely as he brings his hands to your waist and ass, squeezing the soft skin of both your ass cheeks.
"Do you mean it?" you ask in the middle of the kiss, beginning to feel the wetness between your legs.
"Yes, I fucking mean it," he replies against your lips, biting and sucking on your lips again.
You moan as he begins to leave a trail of kisses all over your neck, biting and leaving little marks on your sensitive skin, making you shiver all over your body and begin to feel the hardness in his pants against your pelvis.
Absentmindedly he brings one of his hands up and caresses one of your breasts over your shirt, making you moan and continue kissing him as he brings his hands back down to your thighs.
"Oh, Aemond," you whine.
"Fuck," he murmurs in delight, making you wrap your legs around his torso and feel directly on your needy clit, his cock hard and in need of release, "Such a needy little thing, arent you?"
His mouth roams and kisses every exposed part of your skin, as he pulls you along with him towards your couch, making you sit on top of him and you desperately begin to seek relief as you cause friction between your bodies.
He groans into your mouth, feeling his cock throb and ache.
"Can I take this off?" he grabs the edge of your shirt and you nod desperately, needy.
You are not wearing a bra and when your breasts are out in the open, Aemond lets out a curse as he stares at your breasts fully aroused to take one of your nipples into his mouth, making you arch and bring his face closer to your breasts.
Not long after that he too takes off his shirt and you free his cock from its confines and then start riding him, unable to wait a moment longer.
"Shit," he hisses, "You feel so good, baby. So fucking good."
You moan loudly as he brings one of his hands to your already swollen clit and starts massaging it with two fingers, making you moan and making you move your hips with more fervor on top of him, as your skin slaps and rattles with his beneath you.
That night, not only does he fuck you on your couch, he fucks you on your bed too, not being able to get enough of you, loving to see your whole face contorted in pleasure as he fucks you against your bed hard, his cock continually thrusting in and out of you, the sound of skin against skin being heard.
You bite down on his shoulder and wrap your legs around his torso again, feeling him deeper, as Aemond kisses you and draws his eyebrows together in concentration and pleasure.
"Are you going to let me fill this pretty pussy with my cum again, baby? I want to feel you fucking cum all over my cock."
He brings his hand to your clit again and begins to massage it furiously, wanting to watch you crumble and feel you do it around his cock, while you moan and bite his shoulder and neck.
"Oh y-yes, Ae-mond,"you moan.
You close your eyes, escape a quiet moan, arch your back fully and feel the whole wave of euphoria wash over your entire body, seeing stars behind your eyes.
And with one last hard thrust, Aemond cums inside you letting out a grunt and hiding his whole face in the curve of your neck, leaving a couple of wet kisses once you both come back to earth and melt into each other's arms.
A few weeks later, you're back at work and Aemond starts filming a new movie for Netflix, so you don't see each other as often as you used to.
Aemond's schedule is very tight and he still does everything he can to be able to see you and spend time with you, while you in comparison to him have more free time but can't spend it with him because of his work.
And it is in that same time that you start to feel strange, but you hadn't connected the dots until the signs became too obvious to ignore.
One day, while working on set, fatigue suddenly overwhelmed you and a persistent nausea made you realize that something was going on. Suddenly lack of appetite appeared and seeing things too sweet or chicken or meat meals made you sick to your stomach.
Or also weird cravings started, which your mind started to scare you with possibly confirming what you were thinking.
During a break in the filming, you discreetly retreat to the bathroom, feeling the need for a moment to yourself. And as you look in the mirror, you notice the pallor on your face and the different glow in your eyes.
Completely terrified, you wait for your break from work and rush to the pharmacy, buying three pregnancy tests of different brands and supposedly the best.
And once at home, everything is silent, as the seconds tick by and you feel like you are drowning in your own thoughts.
You're not ready to be a mom, in fact the thought of having children was never something you wanted or wanted in the long run, because you're still young, you have your dream job at only twenty-two years old and to stop focusing on your dreams and goals to focus on those of a child… it's not something you want.
But the pregnancy test you hold in your trembling hand confirms your suspicions, as do the other tests, all positive.
Fear totally grips you, not only because of the fact that you are pregnant, but because of the implications this brings to your life and also to Aemond's life.
God, Aemond.
You think completely terrified, starting to cry, feeling the pressure in your chest.
You know this will stop and totally ruin his career.
You imagine yourself facing the critical gaze of the media, the headlines of magazines and news websites, as well as the constant speculation about your personal life.
You feel completely scared and hopeless, having no idea what Aemond's reaction will be, but you know this is not good, a baby, right now is not good, not for you and certainly not for him.
But you must tell him. You know you must. Regardless, how could you keep something like this from him?
It takes you two days to finally get up the courage to tell him and as you wait for him in your apartment, the pregnancy test rests in your trembling, sweaty hands, feeling completely frightened amidst all the silence around you.
Your eyes burn from crying so much, you feel like you have no strength, you feel weak and you haven't been able to sleep well and you don't even want to imagine how you will be later when Aemond finds out and everything between you will probably go wrong.
The sound of the door makes you jump nervously, knowing it's him.
You feel more fear and uncertainty flood you but you force yourself to get up from your couch and head to open the door, feeling that you will burst into tears at any moment.
As you open it, Aemond's handsome face and his usual smile was nothing like your face, being quite the opposite, so noticing your state his smile drops and he looks at you completely distressed and worried as you let out a few tears silently.
"Hey, hey," Aemond holds your face in his hands, his thumbs gently caressing your cheeks. His concern is palpable in the way his eyes search yours for answers. "What happened, baby? Are you okay?"
You sniffle your nose, inhale deeply and keep your eyes closed for a moment, only causing Aemond more unease when you don't utter a word.
"Y/N, what happened?" he insists, his tone laden with anxiety and seriousness.
"I'm really sorry," you murmur sadly to him, feeling each word weigh heavy in your chest and a sense of hopelessness creep over you.
"You're sorry, for what? What happened?" he asks again, completely confused and uncomprehending.
"I'm… I-I'm pregnant," you mumble in a broken voice, as if uttering those words would make reality more concrete.
Aemond's face remains completely static, his eyes wide open, watching you as tears slide down your cheeks. The gravity of the news is reflected in the tense silence that appears between the two of you.
"What?" he mutters under his breath, barely audible but laden with disbelief.
You nod slowly, reaching out to him for the proof you hold in your trembling hand. And every second that passes as he analyzes it feels like an eternity as you wait for his reaction.
But he barely processes the information, takes the evidence between his fingers and the seconds stretch out like hours as you feel your heart beating too fast.
But Aemond's face shows neither anger nor joy.
And finally he reacts by bringing his hands to his hair, his eye fixed on the evidence for a moment and then looking at a spot in your living room, beginning to see frustration and surprise invade him more.
He lets out a sigh and turns his gaze back to you in a desperate manner.
"Hey, baby," he says to you now nervously, "Are you absolutely sure?"
You nod slowly.
"I did three tests, all three came back positive."
He brings a hand to his forehead, averting his gaze from yours for a moment. His eyes reflect tumultuous thoughts, a mixture of thoughts ranging from disbelief to concern.
"But how?" he watches you blankly, still with surprise painted in his gaze.
"You didn't use a condom and I took the pill, but it didn't work," you tell him in a hopeless voice, trying to explain the inexplicable.
"Oh, fuck," he murmurs, biting his lips and bringing a hand to his chin.
"I'm sorry, I really am. I didn't mean for this to happen either," you admit to him, your tears streaming down your cheeks.
You feel the need to apologize as if this burden is something only you should carry, the vulnerability clear in your tone of voice and on your face, which worries Aemond more at seeing you in such a state.
"Hey, no, don't, don't do that, don't apologize," he says instantly, turning back to you and placing a hand on your cheek, "We're both part of this, you understand me? You're not to blame for anything and I'm not going to leave you alone," he assures you, completely honest and determined with his words.
And despite the gravity of the situation, you feel a huge relief come over you knowing that you are not alone in this, as he looks at your sad face, with your dry tears and red eyes.
And then he places a soft kiss on your lips and encloses you in a comforting embrace that is all you need at that moment.
You knew that Aemond would eventually have to tell his manager and his team as well, however, you didn't expect him to do it on the same day you let him know the news and you didn't expect all his people to start working so soon on this, on your pregnancy.
You call his agent and in an instant he, along with his publicist and his team of public relations people, invade your apartment.
And his agent, Criston Cole, doesn't have time to start reproaching him for having had a secret relationship with you all this time, although the anger is there but the important thing is the baby on the way, where he can't do anything either because it's already in your womb.
So he only talks about solutions.
And it is precisely because of these painful solutions for you that you decided to run away and disappear from his life to save his career and also your child.
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randomhealer · 4 months
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types of kisses
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something cute, improvised (very improvised), no revision, I'm doing this without glasses and I'm very sleepy, sorry for disappearing and I wanted to add other characters but I'm dying now, anyway I tried my best today to write this, my mind isn't working very well...sorruh
Pomefiore + Savanaclaw
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✦ Pomefiore
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Epel definitely gives you soft kisses in the presence of others, he really likes giving kisses just as he loves receiving them, he can give you soft and affectionate kisses when you are around someone especially other pomefiore students but when you two are alone he loves Long, heavy and messy kisses, it's a real achievement for Epel to see you breathing heavily and your lips swollen beneath him, he also loves biting your lower lip just to tease you. a session of small kisses at the end of class always ends up turning into a little messy and carefree make-out session with you and Epel which always results in both of them having a flushed face and irregular breathing, messy hair and slightly wrinkled clothes.
Vil always asks you to help him test new lipsticks, and how do you help him with that? well...you stay there and serve as a guinea pig while he kisses your face with every new lipstick he tries. Now...does he use you as an excuse to test which lipstick transfers or doesn't or does he use the lipstick excuse just so he can kiss your cute little face? who knows... but he loves kissing your cheek because he thinks it's soft and if you've been using any of his skin products you'll be even happier, You are his favorite guinea pig because he loves seeing your eager little face when he approaches to kiss your face again, and he loves your flushed face even more after he pulls away, at the end of it all when he is done and your face is dirty. with some kiss marks from different lipsticks he will give you a light kiss on the lips as a good job.
Rook loves kissing you randomly at any place, time, time- in short he loves stealing kisses from you at any time, it's a blessing and a misfortune for you, it's as if he watches you 24 hours a day (and he does that but that's a topic for another day) just to give you a kiss when you're unprepared, does he also give you a kiss at all times at any event, before classes? after classes? after the break? when he randomly sees you around? entering your dorm without you noticing? yes he will kiss you or steal a kiss from you, He also loves letting you curl up in his arms so he can finally claim your sweet lips properly.
★ Savanaclaw
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When you give Leona little kisses he thinks it's cute and/or maybe even a little funny how you give him affection...it's like a little mouse taking care of a big lion...Leona prefers to kiss you hard and take the opportunity to bite you here and there, not just your lips but your neck too, you can literally become his little biting toy during this time, he's not content with just your lips he kisses your neck and chest too, making sure to leave bite marks where he kisses, Leona just like Epel likes to see you with your lips swollen and your face flushed and messy beneath him, he finds this the most fascinating thing he has see.
Jack and you are a cute dynamic, Jack loves your kisses because for him it's like a reward and a form of love, as he makes a promise to run several kilometers so that when he reaches the end he receives a kiss from you as a reward, he loves being together. cuddle with you and snuggle into you and tuck his face into your neck as he kisses your neck and you rub his ears, you can see his tail wagging behind him excitedly, He might end up being too happy and reflexively end up biting you (he'll apologize for that, okay) You are the reason he trains for two extra hours, in fact there is nothing better for a well-trained dog than a good treat.
Ruggie loves it when you give him tender kisses whether wet or not he likes it anyway, he just melts like butter when you kiss his ears or his face, pick him up, squeeze his cheeks and fill his face with your kisses okay ? Is this his biggest request, or when you let him rest on your chest while you caress him and kiss him? This is his paradise, he will steal kisses from you during the day because well...it's his right...he will remind you (and demand) affection and kisses at the end of the day.
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Do you know who my daddy is?
Captain price x Fem reader (single mom)
You brought your kid to the base, she has an important homework, talk about what mom/dad does at work. The little kid is in trouble and the best she can do to get out of the problem is lie about who her daddy is.
Warning: it's not very interesting but I had a lot of fun writing it. I like to think about Price having a daughter. Anyway, as usual, grammatical and spelling errors.
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- hey my little sunshine! how was your day?
- it was fine, I have homework though.
- oh, what is it?
- I have to talk about your work, what you do and things like that.
- Oh well, I have to talk with my superior and let him know that you will go with me for a few hours just to see what we do, ok?
- Okay
That was the small conversation with your kid, she was very excited to go with you, you talked her a little bit about your comrades and your very handsome captain, she made fun of you for the way you talked about Price and sang «Mommy and the captain, sitting on a tree giving little kisses and falling in love...», of course you warned her to not say that at the base, as every kid, she thinks your job is full of action and adrenaline, because that's what she watches on tv, she certainly wasn't expecting to see you writing reports and reading files, attending some calls, just like you're doing right now.
Price was very kind to let you bring her today, he also told you to give her a small tour around the place to make it more exciting, your poor girl is dying of boredom sitting in the chair of your office, observing the ceiling and the light over your heads.
- I'm sorry darling, we will give the tour as soon as I finish this report, okay?
- I thought we would fight against bad people or that you would show me guns, this is so boring!!!!!
- Honey, making all this paperwork is also a way to fight against bad people, also very important.
- B-O-R-I-N-G...
You sighed, certainly it's not the funniest activity but you needed to finish it as soon as possible, a knocking on your door was perfect to interrupt your girl's complaints, Gaz appeared with a small bag of candies.
- I heard you brought a mini you today, I wanted to say hi.
- Oh Kyle, thanks, come in, this is my daughter (____). Honey this is my friend Kyle, be nice and say hi.
Your girl smiled at Gaz and took the small bag, she started to eat some jelly beans and talked for a few minutes with Kyle.
- (...) And now I'm here! Bored!
- I already say Sorry like a thousand times baby!!!
- I can take her to give a walk while you finish... just if you want (y/n)
- that would be great, I will finish soon I promise!
- YEAH! LET'S GO KYLE!!!
Your daughter took Kyle's hand and left the office, you laughed and continued your work.
Gaz went to the common room so your daughter could say hi to Soap, Ghost and other soldiers. needless to say that your girl was enchanted to meet Soap who played with her and gave her a small gel blaster, both made a mess with those gel bubbles, Gaz and Soap were cleaning up while Ghost and your daughter were painting one of Ghost's skull old masks, but your daughter was impatient to be with you and see the rest of the place as you promised her, she took her opportunity to escape from the three men when Soap attacked Ghost with some of the gel bubbles that were still on his blaster, Gaz was recording so, none of them noticed when your daughter left the room.
«Ah, Guys... Where's (_____)?» «Shit» «Was Johnny's fault»
They started to look for her, while your daughter was walking unsure of where she was going, she brought the blaster that Soap gave to her and started to shoot and play, her fun ended when she accidentally shot a soldier in his eye. The guy saw her alone and started to try to scare her.
- Hey kid, Did you forget the way to the daycare? who gave you that toy? This is not a place for babies.
- I'm 6, I'm not a baby!
- Aren't you? Then, maybe I have to tell you that you can go to prison for what you did?
Your daughter really believed that, she started to feel nervous, she was in serious trouble, what would she do now?. This guy kneeled down in front of your daughter and smirked.
- What will you do now? Cry with your parents?
An idea popped up quickly to her mind.
- I won't get in trouble, Do you have a clue of who my daddy is?
- Do you know who my daddy is?, oh please tell me who's your father, dwarf, I will tell him you're being a troublemaker!
He imitated your daughter's voice.
- The Captain Price is my daddy! He will beat your ass if you don't let me go!
This soldier was ready to say something until someone appeared behind you, he stood up quickly and paled, the little girl thought it was Gaz or Soap who found her and arrived just in time to save her, until she heard the soldier said «Captain!», she paled too and looked behind her, a tall man was observing the soldier with a cold look.
- Is this young man bothering you, my dear?
- He says I will go to prison just because I was playing a little and I hit him by accident.
- I'm sorry Sir, I didn't know she was your daughter...
Price didn't act surprised by the soldier's comment, he continued looking at him and put a hand on your daughter's shoulder.
- Next time I see you bothering my daughter or anyone else, you will be In serious trouble. Do you understand?
- Yes Sir.
- Fine, now leave. Let's go my little princess.
Price kneeled down a little and carried your girl over his shoulders, he talked with her about your work and maybe, your girl talked about how you feel about him, on their way they found Ghost, Soap and Gaz running through the entire base looking for her.
Finally you finished your work and went to the common area to see if your daughter was there, on the way you noticed some soldiers were whispering and talking secretly while you were passing by but you tried to not pay much attention, you arrived to the common area and indeed there she was, she fell asleep on Soap's lap, who was sitting on a sofa.
- Hey y/n you found us!
- Sorry guys I had a lot of things to do, thank you to everyone for taking care of her.
«No problem» «Soap is always here to help» «it was your fault that we lost her!»
- You what??
- Don't worry, nothing happened to her, the Captain found her!
Before you could say something, Price caught your attention and asked you to go out with him to have a small conversation. You felt a lump in your throat and stomach, you felt you were in problems, as soon as you and Price were alone you started to apologize.
- I'm so sorry John, I mean, Captain, it won't happen again I can assure you that...
- Y/n, you're not in trouble.
- wha..?
- I was going to say, you have a sweet and smart daughter and... Very... chatterbox...
- Chatterbox?
- Yes, she said she was my daughter, and then she told me about... Some feelings you have.
- Oh...
- Oh...
You instantly started to try to fix and look for excuses.
- Sir, I'm... She's just a kid, she fantasizes a lot about her father and... Also she understood all I said in a different way, I'm really sorry Captain...
- I see, well y/n, you don't need to apologize, I understand she's just a kid, and as she's just a kid, tell me, who are we to ruin her fantasies about have a father?
He smiled mischievously at you, you were speechless, what the hell was happening?.
- Ah... Excuse me, what?
-Well, she's a brilliant girl and I always wanted to have a daughter and a very attractive wife. There are a lot of reasons to make this come true.
You're still processing all that is happening right now.
- Really?
Price took your hand and squeezed it softly, without losing eye contact with you.
- For sure, by example, everybody around the base is already talking about us and our little daughter and the other reason is that those feelings your daughter talked about, are mutual.
You couldn't say anything, you were lost in thoughts, but your silly smile was enough for Price to go a little bit further.
- So, if you allow me, I would like to take you to dinner tomorrow night. What do you think?
- I would like that, but who will take care of (____)?
He laughed a little and then simply said.
- I think Soap said he's always ready to help, no? And if you don't think he will be a good babysitter... well, I think your daughter has another two uncles that can help.
That definitely made you laugh loudly, Price looked at you with tenderness still waiting for an answer, then, after a few minutes of silence you nodded, that was the story of how you and your daughter won the Captain's heart and three new uncles for your little girl, it would be the story that your daughter would talk about in every opportunity she had.
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