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legendsmagazine · 2 years

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LIFE EXPERIENCE || I’M A PAPPARAZZI

Usually kept at arm's length and treated with disdain by celebs and newsmakers, without their courage and their resilience, the world would lose much of the gossip, secrets and inside scoops that makes news if it wasn’t for the paparazzi.

I’ve met hundreds of celebrities over the last ten years working as a paparazzi, and here are my experiences with some of your favorite (and least favorite) celebrities.

the (generally) positive...

Whitney Carlisle is always a positive experience to shoot. I’ve never had an issue with photographing her. She is always extremely polite about the whole thing. You can walk up, get your photo, and go without problem.

Noah Chang and Seth Seong are always extremely pleasant to shoot. They make it easy and are cooperative with the whole thing. One of the guys I regularly find myself out with told me that Seth went on a whole ramble about Big Foot.

Vincent Barlowe is extremely polite, but extremely difficult to shoot. He is very good at evading paparazzi. I’ll look at my camera for one moment, and he’ll be completely gone. It can take a lot to get a good shot of him because he is also constantly moving on a skateboard or just running around. When you can get him, he doesn’t seem happy to be shot, but he doesn’t cause a fuss or ask you to stop.

I’ve caught his assistant Stella Bennett a few times with Vincent Barlowe, Reilly Addams, and Zeke Hawthorne. She very frequently blocks shots. So that is less positive, I suppose.

Austin Harper is always extremely pleasant and polite, but another one that is very good at evading paparazzi. Unfortunately, however, has been much more difficult to work with since Essence has been pregnant. As it stands right now, there has been no proper face photos of their baby released / leaked to the public so people are going rabid to get a photo of Aurora Harper. While I typically avoid photographing kids, it would pay my rent for a while to get a photo of their kid.

Madam Vivi is polite if you’re polite. If you go up, take your photographs, ask polite questions, and go - she’ll be nice to you. I’ve had some guys I know ask her rude questions and she tends to get a little snippy with them, but as long as you’re being respectful - she’ll be respectful back.

Blade Vader and Roman Rizvi are another two that come to mind when it comes to just being generally polite about the whole thing. They don’t ever seem to seek us out, but they don’t cause a fuss. Blade let me bum a cigarette off of him once.

Olivia Marie is another that you run into frequently that makes it easy to photograph. She doesn’t seek is out, either, but makes it easy to photograph her and doesn’t typically get angry. There was once after her boyfriend died that she snapped at us to stop. Most of us did, but I know a few guys hung around.

Candie Rose doesn’t seem like the brightest woman on Earth, but she’ll always seem excited to get her photograph taken.

calls on themselves...

Not all of these people call on themselves a lot, but they’ve done it in my recent enough memory.

Cleo Holliday calls on herself every chance that she can get. I’m not big on photographing online celebrities, but sometimes you’ll get a few good pictures of her walking around.

Hiroki Hamada rarely calls on himself, but he has before. He can be easy when hes in the mood to be photographed, otherwise he is just running around too much to get a good shot of him.

Fletcher Astor and Parker Alexander both call on themselves. Ten years ago, I was foaming at the mouth to do it, but now..? Not so much. If there is some scandal going on with Philip Astor, I’ll go ask Fletcher about it.

Venus Marie is always particularly sweet, but she calls on herself a lot. There are a lot of times she comes out extremely drunk. There was one point where Venus invited me inside as long as I didn’t bring my camera in. She made me a drink. It was a bit odd, but she was nice.

Caden Yang is..a bit of a mess..and not the most fun to photograph. He clearly has some type of drug problem that isn’t well hidden. He calls us constantly and often acts up. We mostly catch him outside of clubs (or wherever he says hes gonna be that day).

depends on the day...

99% of my photographs of Axel Parrish when he is with Margaeux Fox, but in general he is..a bit unpredictable. He has never done anything too crazy, but he just doesn’t seem particularly happy to be shot. He doesn’t make it difficult, but he’ll flip you off and stuff.

I’ve been photographing Essence Woods since she was about ten. It really depends on the day. We frequently got calls from Alexis Woods telling us where Essence would be that day when she was younger. When she got married, it ended up with James Prescott calling us and telling us where she was whenever he was out of town. She is typically nice about it, but it depends on the day. There are times where she has just asked us to go home for a while and said that if we did, she’d give us a particularly good photo (different outfit, eye contact with the camera) and has always honored that.

Sebastian Jones really depends on the day, but generally he is a fun guy to be around when photographing. He is particularly chatty and will talk a lot to you if you’re trying to photograph him. He won’t really answer anything seriously if you ask him questions, but he so polite about it, you almost don’t mind. If hes in a bad mood, he’ll typically just ignore us and come off a bit moody. Hes never really rude about it, but you can usually tell within a few seconds if you’re getting some good clips, or if he’ll just side eye you and go inside.

In the same vein, Preston Barlowe has always been similar. He is typically extremely talkative. When he was doing Youtube, he was particularly in love with us and frequently called us. Though, there are times where he is typically snippy. He doesn’t like photographs of Oliver at all.

Eva Rappaport is clearly over every photographer. She isn’t rude, but isn’t nice either. She typically just ignores you and goes about her day. You’ll catch her in a good mood sometimes and she’ll give you a smile, but otherwise, she won’t really acknowledge you negatively or positively. As far as Rappaports go, Lyssa is very similar. She is very hot and cold. Some days she wants to participate, other days not so much.

A good shot of Elliot Lim is worth a lot, but he is extremely hard to find. When you do, he is typically just running errands.

the (generally) negative....

Sadie Brooks is generally not the best to photograph. She isn’t very pleasant about the whole thing. She is never outright rude, or like, throwing something at you. She just isn’t pleasant and clearly doesn’t want you to be there.

I started photographing Ryan Price after his breakdown and he was never pleasant about it. He typically ignores us now, but there are times where he just flat out tells us to go away or gets rude about it. He was especially rude during the filming of Vainglorious because he didn’t want us to get anything that he was filming.

Londyn Pierce probably doesn’t surprise anyone. She isn’t the most pleasant, has thrown stuff at us, and is just generally not my favorite person to photograph. However, you kind of deal with it because the photos go for a lot after whatever scandal or fight. People were seething at the mouth to get the first photograph of her after the balcony situation.

Jae Jhang is extremely difficult to photograph. He typically just puts his hood up and walks away from us. He’ll flip us off, puts his headphones on, and doesn’t like being photographed. He was a little miserable after Dollhouse, I imagine. There was once or twice that we caught Essence elbowing him and telling him to wave and smile.

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parfumery-wiki · 2 years

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Nuit de Sable (eau de parfum) BDK Nose: Marie Schnirer

Woods

In this garden of the sumptuous Palais Royal, out of sight, the pages of a book are slowly turning. Intrigued, a silhouette advances to start the conversation. It is there, at the end of the afternoon, sitting on a bench in front of a sumptuous bed of roses with a scent mixed with sand, where they meet. Carefree of the time that passes, reality ends up catching them. The guard’s keys come to close the garden doors...

Top notes: Cardamom, Nutmeg, Cumin Heart notes: Turkish rose, Rose oxide, Hot sand Base notes: Australian sandalwood, Tonka bean, Ambroxan, Musk

#bdk #eau de parfum #Marie Schnirer #woods #cardamom #nutmeg #cumin #turkish rose #rose oxide #hot sand #Australian sandalwood #tonka bean #ambroxan #musk

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soracities · 1 year

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what are your suggestions for starter poetry for people who dont have strong reading/analysis backgrounds

I've answered this a few times so I'm going to compile and expand them all into one post here.

I think if you haven't read much poetry before or aren't sure of your own tastes yet, then poetry anthologies are a great place to start: many of them will have a unifying theme so you can hone in based on a subject that interests you, or pick your way through something more general. I haven't read all of the ones below, but I have read most of them; the rest I came across in my own readings and added to my list either because I like the concept or am familiar with the editor(s) / their work:

Staying Alive: Real Poems for Unreal Times (ed. Nick Astley) & Being Alive: The Sequel to Staying Alive (there's two more books in this series, but I'm recommending these two just because it's where I started)

The Rattlebag (ed. Seamus Heaney and Ted Hughes)

The Ecco Anthology of International Poetry (ed. Ilya Kaminsky & Susan Harris)

The Essential Haiku, Versions of Basho, Buson and Issa (ed. Robert Hass)

A Book of Luminous Things (ed. Czesław Miłosz )

Now and Then: The Poet's Choice Columns by Robert Hass (this may be a good place to start if you're also looking for commentary on the poems themselves)

Poetry Unbound: 50 Poems to Open Your World(ed. Pádraig Ó'Tuama)

African American Poetry: 250 Years of Struggle and Song (ed. Kevin Young)

The Art of Losing: Poems of Grief and Healing (ed. Kevin Young)

Lifelines: Letters from Famous People about their Favourite Poems

The following lists are authors I love in one regard or another and is a small mix of different styles / time periods which I think are still fairly accessible regardless of what your reading background is! It's be no means exhaustice but hopefully it gives you even just a small glimpse of the range that's available so you can branch off and explore for yourself if any particular work speaks to you.

But in any case, for individual collections, I would try:

anything by Sara Teasdale

Devotions / Wild Geese / Felicity by Mary Oliver

Selected Poems and Prose by Christina Rossetti

Collected Poems by Langston Hughes

Where the Sidewalk Endsby Shel Silverstein

Morning Haiku by Sonia Sanchez

Revolutionary Letters, Diane di Prima

Concerning the Book That Is the Body of the Beloved by Gregory Orr

Rose: Poems by Li-Young Lee

A Red Cherry on a White-Tiled Floor / Barefoot Souls by Maram al-Masri

Deaf Republic by Ilya Kaminsky

Tell Me: Poems / What is This Thing Called Love? by Kim Addonizio

The Trouble with Poetry by Billy Collins (Billy Collins is THE go-to for accessible / beginner poetry in my view so I think any of his collections would probably do)

Crush by Richard Siken

Rapture / The World's Wife by Carol Ann Duffy

The War Works Hard by Dunya Mikhail

Selected Poems by Walt Whitman

View with a Grain of Sand by Wislawa Szymborska

Collected Poems by Vasko Popa

Under Milkwood by Dylan Thomas (this is a play, but Thomas is a poet and the language & structure is definitely poetic to me)

Bright Dead Things: Poems by Ada Limón

Teaching My Mother How to Give Birth by Warsan Shire,

Nostalgia, My Enemy: Selected Poems by Saadi Youssef

As for individual poems:

“Wild Geese” by Mary Oliver

[Dear The Vatican] erasure poem by Pádraig Ó'Tuama // "The Pedagogy of Conflict"

"Good Bones" by Maggie Smith

"The Author Writes the First Draft of His Weddings Vows (An erasure of Virginia Woolf's suicide letter to her husband, Leonard)" by Hanif Abdurraqib

"I Can Tell You a Story" by Chuck Carlise

"The Sciences Sing a Lullabye" by Albert Goldbarth

"One Last Poem for Richard" by Sandra Cisneros

"We Lived Happily During the War" by Ilya Kaminsky

“I’m Explaining a Few Things”by Pablo Neruda

"Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening" //"Nothing Gold Can Stay"//"Out, Out--" by Robert Frost

"Tablets: I // II // III"by Dunya Mikhail

"What Were They Like?" by Denise Levertov

"Those Winter Sundays" by Robert Hayden,

"The Patience of Ordinary Things" by Pat Schneider

“I, too” // "The Negro Speaks of Rivers” // "Harlem” // “Theme for English B” by Langston Hughes

“The Mower” // "The Trees" // "High Windows" by Philip Larkin

“The Leash” // “Love Poem with Apologies for My Appearance” // "Downhearted" by Ada Limón

“The Flea” by John Donne

"The Last Rose of Summer" by Thomas Moore

"Beauty" // "Please don't" // "How it Adds Up" by Tony Hoagland

“My Friend Yeshi” by Alice Walker

"De Humanis Corporis Fabrica"byJohn Burnside

“What Do Women Want?” // “For Desire” // "Stolen Moments" // "The Numbers" by Kim Addonizio

“Hummingbird” // "For Tess" by Raymond Carver

"The Two-Headed Calf" by Laura Gilpin

“Bleecker Street, Summer” by Derek Walcott

“Dirge Without Music” // "What Lips My Lips Have Kissed" by Edna St. Vincent Millay

“Digging” // “Mid-Term Break” // “The Rain Stick” // "Blackberry Picking" // "Twice Shy" by Seamus Heaney

“Dulce Et Decorum Est”by Wilfred Owen

“Notes from a Nonexistent Himalayan Expedition”by Wislawa Szymborska

"Hour" //"Medusa" byCarol Ann Duffy

“The More Loving One” // “Musée des Beaux Arts” by W.H. Auden

“Small Kindnesses” // "Feeding the Worms" by Danusha Laméris

"Down by the Salley Gardens” // “The Stolen Child” by W.B. Yeats

"The Thing Is" by Ellen Bass

"The Last Love Letter from an Entymologist" by Jared Singer

"[i like my body when it is with your]" by e.e. cummings

"Try to Praise the Mutilated World" by Adam Zagajewski

"The Cinnamon Peeler" by Michael Ondaatje

"Last Night I Dreamed I Made Myself" by Paige Lewis

"A Dream Within a Dream" // "The Raven" by Edgar Allan Poe (highly recommend reading the last one out loud or listening to it recited)

"Ars Poetica?" // "Encounter" // "A Song on the End of the World"by Czeslaw Milosz

"Wandering Around an Albequerque Airport Terminal” // "Two Countries” // "Kindness” by Naoimi Shihab Nye

"Slow Dance” by Matthew Dickman

"The Archipelago of Kisses" // "The Quiet World" by Jeffrey McDaniel

"Mimesis" by Fady Joudah

"The Great Fires" // "The Forgotten Dialect of the Heart" // "Failing and Flying" by Jack Gilbert

"The Mermaid" // "Virtuosi" by Lisel Mueller

"Macrophobia (Fear of Waiting)" by Jamaal May

"Someday I'll Love Ocean Vuong" by Ocean Vuong

"Still I Rise" by Maya Angelou

I would also recommend spending some times with essays, interviews, or other non-fiction, creative or otherwise (especially by other poets) if you want to broaden and improve how you read poetry; they can help give you a wider idea of the landscape behind and beyond the actual poems themselves, or even just let you acquaint yourself with how particular writers see and describe things in the world around them. The following are some of my favourites:

Upstream: Essays by Mary Oliver

"Theory and Play of the Duende" by Federico García Lorca

"The White Bird" and "Some Notes on Song" by John Berger

In That Great River: A Notebook by Anna Kamienska

A Little Devil in America: Notes in Praise of Black Performance by Hanif Abdurraqib

The Book of Delights by Ross Gay

"Of Strangeness That Wakes Us" and "Still Dancing: An Interview with Ilya Kaminsky" by Ilya Kaminsky

"The Sentence is a Lonely Place" by Garielle Lutz

Still Life with Oysters and Lemon by Mark Doty

Paris, When It's Naked by Etel Adnan

#ask #anonymous #beginner guides

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fictionalslvr · 6 months

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SYNOPSIS: Leon is the most devoted young man you know, and what you always wanted, is to ruin him, turn him into a complete sinful mess.

PAIRING: Churchboy¡Leon x F!reader

WORD COUNT: 1.030k

WARNINGS: Religious themes! Suggestive and lewd. Corruption kink. Sub¡Leon. Delusional reader. Not p in v because it's all a reader's fantasy ect.

NOTES: Someone send help, I can't stop thinking about RE2 Leon.

AKRASIA:"(n.) Lack of self control."

Leon is a very devout young man. With his knees down on the cold floor, eyes turned to the ceiling and hands squeezed together, his soft voice carried a lot of prayers. It is possible to hear a faint breath escape from those pretty plump lips while he did that, showing how disposed he is to his religion. You had a very bad and twisted thought about him, how you would ruin him completely.

The soft prayers wouldn’t be the only thing slipping out from his lips, his baby azure eyes would be teary, carrying gentle tears that would slid down his cheek so gracefully, his eyes would be turned upwards as always, but this time, not to be face-to-face with his savior, and yes, to show him how sinful he would be in that moment. Those sick contemplations are rotten in your mind, in the most wrong place ever to be thinking about this, the damn church. Who would have thought that you, with that long white skirt, round big eyes that seemed so innocent, the pair of cute Mary Janes on your feet, along with adorable lacy socks, would be so perverted. Who would think that such a delightful girl as you, bashing your eyelashes to everyone, would be wanting to ruin an adorable boy as Leon.

Your thighs are squeezing against each other on the wood bench, you’re sure that you're a sinner dressed as the most faithful gorgeous girl in that place, surrounded by others sinners, after all, no one is fully innocent. Seeing Leon on your right side, he’s very focused on the priest's words, and you, poor you can’t stop your mind in fantasizing about that boy. His dirty blonde hair shines under the white ceiling chandelier, he has this adorable habit of biting his lips when focused, sometimes even poking his tongue slightly out of his lips, you just want him under you, crying and humming your name with that angelic voice of his. Your chest rose as your eyes are glued on his figure, he’s driving you crazy without even saying a word.

You’ve always wondered if Leon was still a virgin, judging by his devotions, you guessed he never even kissed anyone, and that only eats your mind alive. You wanted to be his first in everything, the one who achieved to make him sin with you, you wanted to see his face plastered with tears, his breathing hitching as the name of his God couldn’t save him from that guilty feeling rushing over his spine. Leon would feel bad for feeling so good, that guilty pleasure that drives him into a sobbing mess, whispering faintly “sorry, i-i’m so s-sorry!” in between whimpers. You would take good care of him, being slow and passionate to show there’s nothing wrong in that pleasure he’s feeling, but that wouldn’t help, he would be a melted butter into your hands, hiding his face on the crook of your neck as your naughty hands kept touching the tip of his rosy penis, that pleasure was too much, something new that he’s getting already attached to, they were right, it’s an addiction that erodes an human being. The vulnerability of his state, his nude figure, it’s all new, like he’s a newborn around the world, discovering what the world could offer him as good, but that had consequences.

He would always hear that “the good boys go to heaven”, so he followed that strictly. But hearing that escaping from your lips would play with his mind, that nickname was supposed to be a good thing, not to be used as filthy as you make it look like. And maybe this is what you wanted, to make him feel guilty, to doubt himself and his purpose, to make him a full sinner, dragging you into hell with him. Poor Leon, his mind is so religiously focused, that he’s scared he could go to hell after life, so he restrains himself in almost everything to be perfect in the religious eyes. That would only make your twisted mind want him even more.

You would give whatever it takes to see his round cheeks growing rosy in embarrassment, to watch his eyes shut tightly, scared to look into your eyes and see that lust flames on them, to hear his heartbeat increase as you only get closer to him, depositing a kiss on his cheek and that would make him rest his hands there, thinking about your actions and how he needs to reprimand you from your manners, but he simply can’t, because you cause him fright. No one would believe him if he said how the cute girl has been teasing him, showing a bit more of her cleavage by bending down in front of him to make his mind wander to all wrong sides. In your deepest fantasies, Leon would be addicted to the friction your hands caused him the last time, he would try to recreate that, head leaned down as he felt even guiltier than before, his own hands exploring his body that way for the first time.

Leon is your little tragedy, the piece of drama in your life that keeps you coming to the church, even to not listen to any of the words about it. A divine violence, you like to think that Leon is the actual demon from teasing you just from being himself. Sadly, you didn’t do any of those things, your mind likes to fantasize that, so maybe one day, you can actually send Leon over the edge.

You only noticed that your sweet fantasy is over when a soft voice calls you out, a big pair of blue eyes towards you, which you knew greatly who it was.

“Miss? Are you okay? The preaching is over for a few minutes now.” A smirk appeared in your lips, for the first time, you couldn’t contain yourself, you had to do something.

Throwing your self control away, you gathered courage to lift your body and look around, there’s no one else in the church. Seeing Leon, his eyebrows are frowned in worry, you’re ready to ruin that face of his.

#fanfic #fictionalslvr #smut #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon x fem reader #leon x reader #leon x you #leon kennedy smut #leon smut #re2 remake #re2 smut #re2 leon

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zepskies · 8 months

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Strong as Blood - Part 2

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Summary: After you accidentally break through a solid wood table, you know there’s something wrong with you. You begin to have your suspicions, but can you keep it from Ben long enough to find out?

(In other words: This is the story of how you and Ben discover that you’re pregnant.)

AN: Did you like Part 1? Well, here's Part 2! This two-part fic can be read as stand-alone, but it’s really a bonus sequel to Break Me Down!

(Also, for those of you in the medical field…try to suspend your disbelief on this one. 😅)

Word Count: 6,200

Tags/Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff overload.

To find the chronological reading order for the series, check out the series masterlist. ⤵️

💚 Break Me Down

Part 2: “One Year, Forty, and a Hundred”

About a week later, you and Ben told your family the good news.

Your mom, Marie, took Ben’s face in her hands and pressed a delighted motherly kiss on his cheek, and then his forehead.

He very narrowly tolerated it with his usual gruffness, but you knew better. You saw the fond glint well hidden in his eyes, even after Marie released him.

It hadn’t taken her long after meeting Ben to start treating him like a son; always asking about his missions with Supe Affairs, praising a job well done when he had a successful report, and offering a supportive word even when they didn’t quite go his way.

Ben maintained his usual stoic bravado, but you knew he secretly ate up the praise, along with Marie’s genuine, nurturing nature.

Every time you saw your mother, she would give you baked goods in tupperware—for both of you, she claimed. But you noticed they were most often his favorites. You had a feeling she’d won him over early on with her macadamia nut brownies. (She still couldn’t cook worth a damn either, but she’d been taking a baking class.)

So Ben continued to help her do the dishes, even though she insisted he was a guest in her home. He claimed he was doing it so you wouldn’t jump in yourself.

And now we’re family, you had pointed out. Then Ben gifted you with one of those smiles, subtle and pleased, just for you.

You felt somewhat lazy, just sitting at the kitchen table with your sister Luisa. She sat close to you with her arm looped around yours, and she rubbed your lower back, which you now realized had been aching more often. For God’s sake, you hadn’t even realized you were late on your period.

I need to take some time off work, even before this kid gets here, you mused.

Realistically though, you should’ve expected this might happen. You hadn’t ever gotten around to replacing your IUD after you’d gotten it removed a few months ago. And God knew, Ben didn’t know how to pull out. (And he certainly didn’t buy condoms.)

“What’re you hoping for, a boy or a girl?” Louisa asked you and Ben, disrupting the path of your thoughts. You turned to your sister thoughtfully.

She still had her reservations about him, but she seemed to be warming up to your boyfriend a bit more after you told her the news. Especially after Ben had explained one of his plans over dinner.

His first thought was to hire Frank and Loco back as your personal security throughout your pregnancy, and likely even afterwards.

It was a rare time when you didn’t argue with him; the idea made sense, especially if you were going to continue working in Surveillance at Supe Affairs until you went on maternity leave. And, it would just be great to see them again. Frank had already agreed to start on Monday, after giving his polite congratulations.

(You and Ben each got a package in the mail yesterday: a box of bonafide Cuban cigars for him, a maternity body pillow for you, and a hand-crafted toy box for the baby. Inside had been a white noise sound machine to help the baby sleep.)

But now, Ben brightened at Louisa’s question. He crossed his arms and leaned against the kitchen counter.

“A son,” he replied. How brow rose, as if the answer was obvious. “I’ll be able to bring him up right. Strong. Not like these beanie-wearing pantywaists running the fucking Starbucks.”

“Ben,” you warned. He crossed his arms at you, quite literally standing firm on his stance. But your mother just smiled and pat his arm.

“It’s okay, honey,” she said. “I understand what you mean.”

You raised an incredulous brow.

Oh sure, you thought. She didn’t mind salty language when it was Ben, but God forbid you or Luisa bang a toe in your mother’s presence. Nor did it surprise you that she was agreeing with him.

But then Marie turned to him more earnestly.

“The way you take care of my daughter, I have no doubt you’ll make an excellent father,” she told him.

Ben treated her with a charming smile that showed touches of warmth.

Damn, you thought, as you felt the telltale burn of tears in your eyes. But it wasn’t just about what Marie had said. You had hoped for this one day, but it seemed he was finally making room for your family in his heart too.

“Football. A man’s game,” Ben continued. “I’ll teach him, take him fishing. Everything my old man didn’t bother with, I’ll do it all. Bring him up right…”

As your boyfriend chatted away with your mom, you hid a tendril of worry. You wondered what would happen if the baby turned out to be a girl.

With a glance at your sister, her subtle, raised brows told you she was thinking along the same lines. You sighed and got up; once again, it was time to pee.

Louisa followed you into the hall and laid a hand on your back.

“Hey,” she said. “You know how much I care about you, right?”

“And where’s this going?” you quipped. But you turned around and gave your little sister a half-smile. You knew what she was about to say.

“So what are you going to do about that?” she asked, gesturing to your man in the kitchen. “Mr. Macho wants his prized stud. What happens if he doesn’t get him?”

You sighed. “Ben’s wanted this for a long time. He’s got an idea in his head of what it’s going to be like, and…we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

Louisa’s lips pursed, like she wasn’t quite satisfied with that answer.

“And what about you?” she asked. “How do you feel about this?”

You blinked back at her in slight surprise, but then your expression melted into a soft smile.

“I’m happy, Lou,” you said. Tears welled up in your eyes, yet again. “I’m really happy.”

Louisa relented then, squeezing your hand. “Good…then good. I’m happy for you too.”

And that was really all you wanted.

“What? You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Ben said, peering harder at the ultrasound. The kind OBGYN faltered, though she again tried to point out that what he was looking at was actually a small foot.

“Congratulations,” she told you both. “She’s the right size for twelve weeks of development. And look there, you can even see the umbilical cord—”

“You sure this thing isn’t on the fritz?” Ben asked, bumping the ultrasound monitor with his hand.

“Ben.” You looked over at him with a glare. “Are you serious right now?”

He looked back over at you, and you saw his stubbornness in his frown and knitted brows.

“I’m just saying—” he started, but you didn’t let him get that far.

“You heard the freakin’ doctor. We’re having a girl,” you snapped. “I’m the one who has the transvaginal probe shoved up inside me, so shut the fuck up!”

Ben’s jaw worked as he barely held himself from barking back at you. It wouldn’t be the first time you levied your smart mouth at him, but it wasn’t often that you disrespected him.

“Excuse me?” he still groused.

His anger got waylaid though. He watched you heave a sigh and blink quickly, so you wouldn’t release the well of frustrated tears building behind your eyes.

The doctor looked between you both warily. You turned to her with watery eyes, and you sniffed to keep your emotions at bay.

“Continue, please.”

When the appointment with the OBGYN was done, you didn’t let Ben help you down from the examining table. Nor did you let him touch you, all the way to the car.

An hour later, you both made it back to the apartment you shared in Scarsdale. You stomped up the stairs ahead of him and beelined into the bedroom. You had half a mind to slam the door in his face, but you didn’t have the energy to be that petty.

Frankly, you were exhausted with a tinge of nausea. But you didn’t know if that was pregnancy sickness, or if you were just that anxious.

You sat down on your side of the bed, and you sighed when you heard Ben’s heavy footsteps enter in behind you.

“All right, that could’ve gone better,” he said. “But look at it from my point of view—”

That nearly unhinged you. Your stomach roiled, but you got to your feet and turned around to face him where he stood by the foot of the bed, arms crossed.

“It’s not all about you,” you shot back. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m the one carrying this baby. I’m not just a human incubator.”

“I fucking know that,” he retorted, but you raised a hand to silence him.

“And you’re not the only one who’s wanted this,” you said. Against your will, your eyes once again burned with tears as you held yourself. “You know very well what I’ve…that I didn’t have a normal family growing up.”

Ben quieted. His irritation softened around the edges, especially as your voice trembled.

“Don’t you know what it’s going to mean to me to give our child what I didn’t have?” you asked. “Stability, support, and…and love, from both parents?”

Tears slipped down your cheeks. And when he didn’t seem to have anything to say to you, you shook your head and walked away.

Ben let out a heavy breath. He followed you and stopped you in the living room. “Listen—”

“No, you listen,” you snapped, whirling around on him. “I would’ve been content no matter if it was a boy or a girl, and you ruined that today. You really did.”

His gaze briefly fell to the floor, before it met yours again.

“But even with that, I’m still happy,” you said, as your vision became blurry and wet. “I’m so damn happy…and so scared.”

When you finally broke down crying, Ben got a full picture of just how badly he’d fucked this up. He collected you in his arms and guided you to sit with him on the couch. There he held you as you clung to him and wept into his neck.

The longer it went on, the more he felt like an asshole—with the kind of uncomfortable, gut-churning remorse that only you tended to draw from him.

Ben hesitated, but he knew you deserved to hear him say it. (And you probably wouldn’t let this go until he did.)

“Okay, sweetheart, calm down,” he rumbled in your ear. Along with, "…I’m sorry."

The weight of that fell between you for a moment. You nodded, with a sniff, and he slowly rubbed your back.

“You don’t need to be scared,” he said. “My blood’s making you nice and strong.”

Well, technically it was the baby’s blood, and the super genes they held. You shook your head against his neck.

“That’s not it,” you said. “I mean, that’s part of it, I guess. Dr. Baker didn’t do a great job of reassuring me, but she did say that if the strength lasts throughout the birth, she didn’t expect serious complications.”

Fuck. Ben’s hand tightened in your hair. That...was a thought he hadn't considered. It now made his stomach clench, though he remained silent.

He wished you would’ve taken him with you to see Dr. Baker, but he guessed he couldn’t begrudge you for your worries. He knew he'd be having his own talk with the good doctor soon enough.

“I love my mom. She did her best, you know? But I…I’ve had to take care of myself for most of my life,” you explained, with a hand fisted tight in his shirt. “What the hell do I know about being a mom?”

Ben considered that with a frown. He pulled back enough to see your face, tucking his curled fingers beneath your chin so you’d look at him.

“You looked after your sister, didn’t you?” he reminded. “Made sure she was safe, and grew up right. Now you take care of me, like I take care of you… And you got no problem calling me out on my bullshit.”

That got a slight smile out of you. He brushed away another one of your tears with his thumb.

“You’re gonna be great, sweetheart. I never had any doubts about that,” he said, “The truth is, I couldn’t wait to fuck you raw to make this happen.”

You spluttered a laugh then, even though you were still weeping.

“Yeah, I know,” you said with a wry smile, stroking his bearded cheek. You leaned up and kissed the other cheek. He turned his head and went for your lips. The kiss was slow and tender while he held you where you always felt safe.

Ben grasped the hand on his cheek…and an idea flickered through his mind.

He parted from you, only to say, “Wait here.”

Your brows furrowed, and you blinked through wet lashes. “What?”

“Just stay put for me,” he said.

But he didn’t tell you what he was up to as he left you on the couch to duck into the bedroom. You took the time to wipe at your eyes and take some deep, calming breaths.

Ben came back soon after, seemingly empty-handed as he sat down next to you. You gave him a curious look.

He slipped a hand into his pocket. “Just for the record, I’ve had this for a while.”

And he pulled a black velvet box out of his pocket. You let out a shaky breath of surprise. The ring he pulled out wasn’t a flashy, gaudy thing like you half-expected. It actually looked delicate, and vintage, pale gold with filigree around the hexagonal stone. It glittered, even in the dim lamplight.

“Where’d you find that?” you asked. But somehow, looking into his eyes, you knew what this was.

“Besides those old pictures, the only thing I’ve got left of my mother is right here,” he said, holding up the ring for you. More burgeoning tears fell down your cheeks as your heart constricted.

“Marry me,” he said, rubbing his thumb across the back of your hand.

Despite yourself, a smile raised the corner of your mouth. “Hmm, I don’t know. Is that a question?”

Ben released a breath. Reluctantly, he smirked.

“Fucking figures that you’d make this difficult,” he said.

“You’re the one who fumbled at the goal line, Romeo,” you replied cheekily.

You then gestured at the ground in front of you. He raised a brow.

But, he obliged your demands, making a show of sliding from the couch, down to the ground. He parted your jean-clad knees so he could move in between them. He knelt one knee on the hard wood, and once again took your hand.

Ben somehow hesitated on the question, even though you both were hanging on his words. With your free hand, you smoothed his hair away from his eyes, subtly encouraging him.

“If I had to go back, do it all over again,” he said, “I wouldn’t have done a damn thing different.”

You frowned at him. “Really?”

“That’s right,” he said. “Because I’m right where I want to be.”

You teared up all over again when you realized what he was really saying. You laid a hand on his chest, where his fiercest power resided. He squeezed the hand he held.

“So what’s it gonna be, sweetheart. Will you marry me?” Ben asked. His smirk was almost boyish, despite his age. And yet, it was so very him.

You reached out with your free hand and slid your fingers through his hair, resting it at the back of his neck.

“Yeah,” you agreed, with a beaming smile. “Let’s do it.”

He slipped the ring on your finger, where it fit well. And it was now the most beautiful thing you owned, not only for its shining beauty.

You pulled him in for a kiss. His hands burned up your thighs, squeezing your hips. But again, he hesitated. His lips pulled away from yours as his hand moved to brush your belly. It was already brimming with life. He’d seen the images, heard the heartbeat.

“Thank you,” Ben said. His voice was deep and gruff.

You smiled. With a nod, you held him to you, laying a sweet path of kisses from his cheek, down to his neck.

“I love you,” you said.

He just nodded in response. His throat was tight at the moment. But you wouldn’t let him get off that easy.

“Say it,” you jostled him in your arms. “I’m only growing a super melon for you.”

It earned you an amused look from him.

“I love you too,” he said. His voice was a bit coarse, and laden with rare emotion. You pulled him into a stronger hug, which soon became him dragging you into his lap when he raised himself up onto to the couch. You took his face in your hands.

“See? We made it here,” you teased. You knew he remembered the conversation you two had a few months ago, about waiting a little while to take this next step in your relationship. To have a family.

“Soon. Not someday,” he’d told you. And you’d agreed.

You reminded him of it now while you stroked his face. “I promised you, didn’t I?”

He snorted at that. “You sure took your fucking time with that one, huh?”

“Excuse me?” you retorted.

Ben pulled you into a kiss before you could truly get going. Arguing with him was one of the things you did best.

But what you two ended up doing on the couch was second to none.

A few months later…

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Ben said. His tone was edged, his brows crunching. “What kind of development?”

You curled a hand around his wrist, shooting him a calming look before you returned your attention to Dr. Baker.

“What do you mean, Tonya?” you asked. Your other hand continued to rest over your belly.

At the seven-month mark of your pregnancy, you felt like you were beginning to resemble a parade float as you sat on the medical examining table in the doctor’s office. But you were grateful for Ben’s warm hand spanning the small of your back. It gave you stability as a coil of anxiety began to bloom in your chest.

Dr. Baker reviewed her charts once more. You didn’t like that gleam of scientific interest in her eye while she perused the data, then looked up at you and Ben from her narrow-framed glasses.

“Not with the baby. She’s doing very well,” she said.

That gave you a measure of immense relief.

“The development concerns you,” she clarified, meeting your gaze. “As you know, we’ve been monitoring you very closely.”

You nodded. The weekly checkups and monthly blood panels served to both soothe and increase your anxiety, but you knew that it made Ben feel better, that you were being taken care of in this aspect of your pregnancy.

To government knowledge, no one other than Becca Butcher had ever gone through a pregnancy of this nature. And Homelander had been created in a lab. This was breaking somewhat new ground (which was only in the top five of “things that made you nervous.”)

“I found something…interesting in your bloodwork,” said Dr. Baker. She pulled out two charts from her files and clipped them onto her whiteboard for you and Ben to see. They looked virtually the same, with one graph’s red bars slightly lower than the first.

“What’s that?” Ben asked.

“It’s your wife’s cell regeneration levels,” the doctor replied, pointing to the second graph. “Hers have become almost as high as yours.”

She pointed to the first graph for comparison. You leaned in closer to see as your eyes widened. With the weight of your belly making you off balance, you nearly slid off the examining table. Ben noticed and caught you quick. His arms came around you, though as the news donned on him, his face slid into shock.

“What?” he uttered.

“That’s got to be because of the baby,” you reasoned. “Is it…just temporary? Like the super strength.”

Even that was somewhat intermittent. Some days, you felt your aches and pains and experienced morning sickness and food aversions, like any other pregnant woman. On others, you were able to lift one side of the couch one-handed and vacuum up the dust bunnies underneath it.

“I believe that blood transfusion, as well as your pregnancy greatly accelerated the effects, but no, this isn’t an isolated incident.” Dr. Baker shook her head. “Your DNA has mutated.”

“Are you serious?” you nearly choked out. She nodded. Dr. Baker never joked.

“By my calculations, this process started before you conceived. Over the course of the past year, or more,” she explained. “Do you understand what this means?”

“Y-Yes, I think so,” you said. Your hand squeezed over Ben’s; it was the hand that carried the weight of your gold wedding bands. A lump of emotion rose in your throat. “It means…I’m going to heal from injuries quicker than normal. And…I’m not going to age like a normal person.”

“That’s likely correct,” she replied.

That news fell in the room like a stone. You shared a wide-eyed look with Ben. Neither of you knew quite what to think just yet. Even though he was trying to maintain an even-keel expression, you could see his eyes were beginning to brighten with hope. Yours were too…though you were still confused.

“How the hell is this possible?” you asked. “I mean, Ben gave me his blood for a transfusion. But like you said, that was one time, two years ago now. And you said the pregnancy accelerated this, but that’s not how it started…”

Dr. Baker actually smiled. You didn’t like the wry turn of her lips. She crossed her legs where she sat at her desk and tapped her clipboard with her pen.

“How often would you say you two have sex?” she asked.

That was certainly not where you thought this conversation was going. You couldn’t help but blush.

“How is that even remotely relevant?” you asked.

You glanced at your husband, who merely gave you one of his smug smirks, while his thumb stroked your side. Fucking typical.

“Once a week?” the doctor prompted.

Your face heated up further, and you had to cover your mouth with a hand. Your sex life wasn’t quite as…vivacious as it had been since before you’d gotten pregnant, but it was still a good one, even with your growing size. Ben was nothing if not creative.

And you were still newlyweds, after all.

“Assume we’re doing a healthy amount of fucking, doc,” Ben remarked.

You gasped and hit his thigh, and finally covered your whole face in thorough embarrassment. He just smirked and took your hand so you couldn’t hide. It amused him that you still got like this.

He then pressed a kiss to the back of your fingers.

You sighed and held his hand back. I chose this man. Remember that.

“Again, what does that have to with this?” you asked, your voice a bit higher.

Dr. Baker’s lips flickered at another one of those smiles. “Well, how often did you use condoms over the past two years?”

You and Ben both snorted in response.

“He’s morally opposed to them, doctor,” you said dryly.

She nodded. “I assumed as much.”

Once again, Ben smirked, but Dr. Baker plowed ahead.

“Let me explain it this way,” she said. “Think of how HIV spreads sexually. The infected DNA is transmitted, and it eventually hits the partner’s bloodstream, affecting the entire body. What we have here is a similar case…if for the fact that this was a gradual effect, over the course of several months.”

Ben blinked, and a frown also tugged down his brows.

“Are you saying that I gave her my superpowers…like an STD?” he asked.

Your eyes became as wide as saucers.

Holy shit! you thought, and another one occurred to you. If this all started from the first time you and Ben ever had sex…then that was over two years of being dosed with literal super sperm.

“Not quite,” Dr. Baker said to him. “Just the essence of what sets your DNA apart, even from other supes.”

“Right. Because how the hell hasn’t this happened to anyone else who’s normal?” you asked. “What makes Ben different?”

Dr. Baker finally set down her pen. She folded her hands in her lap to address you with a patience that you didn’t often see from her.

“Remember, the serum he received was still a prototype,” she said. “Vought continued to refine the recipe after the ‘Soldier Boy’ project was successful. For example, the way his cells regenerate is one of those factors that needed to be weeded out, if Compound V was to be a successful product in the long-term.”

You nodded slowly, as that made sense to you. If every supe suddenly lived over a hundred years, it would make it pretty hard to secretly inject that shit into newborns. They had to package it in a more insidious way.

“This is an unpredictable outcome of your exposure to his unique genetic makeup,” Dr. Baker continued, “and there may very well be more to come in the future.”

You weren’t sure how to take that potentially foreboding news, but on the other hand…

“Oh my God! I’m going to live to be a hundred,” you said, holding tighter onto Ben as shock began to make you tremble. His grip was firm and steadying in response. And yet, his face betrayed how he was trying to process this as well.

“Likely much longer than that,” Dr. Baker said, shocking you even further. And she reminded, “Your cells aren’t regenerating at quite the same rate as his…but it is close.”

Again, holy fucking shit.

You let out a halting breath, and you looked up at Ben, a smile growing across your face. You reached up a hand for his bearded cheek. He looked down on you with his usual stoicism, but it was merely a front. You saw through to the true emotions shining in his eyes.

“Well, looks like you’re stuck with me, baby,” you said, even as your own eyes stung with tears. Your heart felt full to the brim, and even overflowing. If this was what it took to be with your husband, then altering your genetics was a price you were willing to pay…at least in this way.

Though you gave him a more teasing smile. “You’re not gonna be able to welch out of that ‘til death do us part thing. So cancel the caravan of blow and strippers.”

Ben chuckled deeply. He held your hand and stroked the inside of your wrist. For a moment, he just looked down at your face. It had become a bit more rounded with your pregnancy—thighs and arms (and ass) thicker too. And to him, you were still perfectly his.

“Fine by me. You’ve got something they don’t, anyway,” he said. He remembered the same words he’d said to you just a year ago, in the bed he still shared with you.

Your eyes gleamed with amusement, and so much more. You played along.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” you asked.

He smirked. “You’ve got a supe STD.”

Your eyes widened at his audacity, but you burst out laughing and hit his shoulder.

“Yeah, from you,” you quipped back. “I should’ve known you were carrying something.”

The two of you didn’t know it, but that was when Dr. Baker smiled to herself. She decided then to leave the room, giving you some privacy as Ben laughed and framed your face with his hands.

His thumbs brushed against your cheeks, catching stray tears as they fell. You bit your lip as your glassy eyes met his once more. Ben became more serious as he let out a sigh.

“It’s not gonna be easy,” he reminded you. “Your family, your friends…they’re going to change, and you’re going to stay the same.”

Your excitement dimmed as that realization hit you. Your hands clenched in his shirt, over his chest. You thought about your mom, your sister, Yvette and Devon, Annie and Hughie and the rest of the team (even Butcher, you would miss).

“Yeah…that part’s not gonna be fun,” you said with a heavy, tremulous sigh. Your heart clenched at the very thought of them growing old, leaving you behind.

But your gaze eventually drew back up to him. You wondered then, not for the first time, how it must’ve been for him. For his parents to grow old and pass on long before him. For childhood friends, old lovers…

“Do you know what I worried about when we got married?” you asked.

Ben’s hands traveled down from your face, down your arms, to finally rest at your waist and thigh. He stared back at you expectantly.

“When you first told me you loved me, you said you were holding back the truth. Because you thought that one day, you’d be alone again,” you said, stroking his chest. “That honestly broke my heart. And it made me wonder if I was selfish to be with you anyway.”

Ben frowned, but you shook your head before he could respond.

“I told myself that after the baby was born, I’d go to Dr. Baker and ask her to find a way to make this happen,” you said. Another smile grew across your face. “But guess what? We figured it out all on our own, super stud.”

Ben smiled then, huffing in amusement as he thumbed at your cheek. You couldn’t really understand the full force of his relief. It might’ve threatened to buckle him into a seat, if he had been standing.

But now, he struggled with the warmth in his chest that for once, had nothing to do with his powers. He moved in to tug you into his arms, and he let out a long breath through his nose.

You couldn’t see how his eyes closed, but you felt his lips press against your forehead. You held him close. Or as closely as you could with your belly getting in between.

You rubbed his back and rested against his chest, hearing the calming, steady sound of his heart beating under your ear.

“And at this rate, I might even live longer than you,” you teased. “After all, you got a head start. Compared to you, I’m still a hot young thing.”

Ben snorted and shook his head. “All right. Now you’re pushing it.”

You smirked into his chest.

“I’ll have to figure out where you rent those caravans.”

“For fuck’s sake,” he muttered. At the sound of your giggle, he couldn’t help but smile.

He still swatted you on the ass though.

A couple more months later…

He smelled like cigar smoke. For which you had no doubt, Ben had been puffing away with Frank and M.M. outside the hospital.

The team of doctors (led by Dr. Baker) had finally left you alone with your husband, allowing you to take your first relaxed breath of the day.

“Your mom and your sister are waiting. Blondie and the others are out there too,” he said quietly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “My girl’s got a whole possy of bitches.”

You assumed he meant Annie and the rest of the team.

You shot him a look, but you were careful not to disturb the sleeping newborn resting on your chest, in the crook of your arm.

“They’re my friends, babe,” you whispered. “And they’re your friends now too, you just don’t want to admit it.”

Ben didn’t acknowledge that, but he laid a hand on your shoulder as he sat down on the edge of your hospital bed.

“How’re you doin’, sweetheart?” he asked. “Got everything you need?”

He’d become even more protective, but also very sweet to you in these past several months. More so than you’d thought him capable of, but it warmed you every time, when you considered how rough, how stoic, and how damn-near emotionally repressed he was not so very long ago.

It seemed that fatherhood was beginning to soften him, even before he began. You quirked a smile at the thought, and at his question.

“Imagine pushing a super melon out of your dick. That’s how I’m doing,” you said, tired but still cheeky as ever.

He snorted a bit loudly at that, and you shushed him, as if it wasn’t your fault he was laughing. He expected nothing less from you.

“But I’m okay,” you answered his second question. “All I need right now is you.”

Ben considered you for a moment, a slightly softer smile curving his lips, and he nodded.

“All right,” he said.

Your daughter woke and began to squirm in your arms, prompting Ben to look down at the bundle wrapped in a soft pink blanket. Gently as possible, he brushed the tuft of downy brown hair on her head. His hand shook ever so slightly, touching her small cheek.

How can this little thing be mine? he wondered. His lips pressed into a firm line.

There was a thought, deep and thrumming inside him, that he didn’t deserve this. That just a couple of years ago, he had nothing to lose.

And now, his entire world was in this room. He’d never admit it, but it was a terrifying thought, for a man who’d had everything and nothing.

You unknowingly stopped the path of his thoughts when you raised a warm hand to his cheek. It earned his attention, and he grabbed your hand to keep it there.

You smiled up at Ben with weariness in your eyes. The super strength had drained out of you a few moments after the umbilical cord was cut, which had made for a less painful labor than you anticipated. But it had also been a long and uncomfortable eighteen hours.

“Wanna hold her for a while?” you asked.

The offer caught him off guard. His brows drew together, but he very carefully took his daughter from you, into his arms. Despite your temporary abilities throughout your pregnancy, he didn’t know if she already had his strength, or if it was something she’d grow into. Ben didn’t want to take any chances.

As he looked down at a small face that already had some of his features, he inhaled a faltering breath.

It was the first time you ever saw true tears in his eyes, as one managed to draw a path down his cheek. You smiled, and the pair of rings on your left hand caught the lamplight as you rested your hand on your chest.

Ben held the bundle close in the crook of his arm. One of the baby’s hands was free, and he tickled his finger in her palm. She grasped it on reflex, opening her mouth on a yawn. Despite his red and shining eyes, he smiled, especially when she reached up for a strand of his hair with small, grabby fingers.

He let her get a hold of it, smirking when she gave it a little tug. Just hours old, and his girl was already demanding his attention. He didn’t know if newborns were able to do that this early, or if it was her blood that made her special.

Either way, he knew then that she was going to be a handful. Just like you.

Ben glanced over and found you watching him with soft amusement. He looked back down at his daughter and told her the obvious.

“You know, you’re blessed to have my genes, baby girl,” he said. It elicited a knowing scoff out of you. However, his smirk softened. “But you’re also lucky as hell to have your mom.”

Ben looked back at you, and there was the predictable well of tears forming in your eyes.

“She’s the best damn woman you’re ever gonna meet,” he said.

He knew then that what he said to you before was right. If he had to go back to 1984, or even 1944, he’d do it all exactly the same.

It all worked out pretty damn well, from where he was standing.

AN: I’m not crying, you’re crying. 🥹😭

I sincerely hope you enjoyed Strong as Blood. I know I said I was going to be done with these two for a hot minute while I concentrate on Smoke Eater (Firefighter!Dean Winchester x Reader).

But now that we’re here, I have another one-shot idea I’d like to sketch out in the near future…

Would you guys want to read about their family dynamic? Maybe fast-forward a couple years to the “terrible twos” stage with their first child.

Along with some cameos from the Annie, Hughie, M.M. and the rest of the team. Maybe even Marie and Louisa, Grandpa George, and the insufferable Aunt Trina?

Let me know in the comments, or just what you thought of Part 2! 😘

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#Strong as Blood #Part 2 #soldier boy #soldier boy/ben x reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #the boys #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy x you #fluff #BMD verse #Break me down verse #zepskies writes

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petaltexturedskies · 1 year

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I rose this morning early as usual, and went to my desk. But it's spring, and the thrush is in the woods, somewhere in the twirled branches, and he is singing. And so, now, I am standing by the open door. And now I am stepping down onto the grass. I am touching a few leaves. I am noticing the way the yellow butterflies move together, in a twinkling cloud, over the field. And I am thinking: maybe just looking and listening is the real work. Maybe the world, without us, is the real poem.

Mary Oliver, from the book of time

#spring #mary oliver #the book of time #txt

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bravo4iscool · 5 months

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return (simon “ghost” riley x fem!reader)

fluff, colleagues to lovers (?), singlemom!reader, soft!simon, dad!simon (?), happy (open) end, protective!simon

„You taught him how to do that?“ you asked, your voice on an edge. You didn‘t know if his name really was Simon but everything pointed in that direction. „Did you teach my son how to break noses?“ your voice rose but Ghost stayed calm. „I asked you something! Did you teach him that?“ You were trembling, almost unable to control your anger.

Ghost looked at you and tilted his head. „Yes, I did teach him that. I‘m surprised you didn‘t.“ That only fuelled your anger even more.

or, you’re a retired military operator and ghost decides to spend his leave with you

word count: 6,2k

(masterlist | return pt.2 snippet)

You’ve been done with the military. After years of service and being haunted by death you decided to cut the string and leave. Price wasn’t happy but he knew there was no way he’d be able to convince you to stay, so he let you.

The minute you retired you disappeared from the screen, finding yourself a little farm in Denmark to stay. You were happy there and you saw yourself living there till the end.

You settled down with your son - the result of an unserious one night stand - and slowly started to fade away from the surface.

It’s a sunny summer day and you’re on your way to feed your chickens. It was still early in the morning but you were enjoying it. The mornings were the only time of the day you actually got to relax.

Your son, Louis, was a handful sometimes and you barely got any time alone since you were single parenting. You sure would’ve been able to find the father of your son but you didn’t want to. That one night stand was a pathetic attempt of yours to escape reality. You had nothing left for Louis’ father. You were fine on your own.

You were humming to yourself as you fed the chickens and collected their eggs, moving onto your two cows Martha and Marie. You got them a few years later than the chickens but by now you were used to them. They provided for you and your son and gave a reason less to leave your farm. The less you left, the better.

So, while you were busy milking the cows you noticed something was different. You couldn’t name it yet but your years with the military, especially Task Force 141, taught you to listen to your instincts.

Someone was here.

You let your eyes carefully roam, your hand ready to reach for the pitchfork but then you pause a minute to think. Whoever was watching you had enough opportunities to jump you already and they didn’t. That could only mean one thing. They weren’t here to hurt you. But before you could shrink the choice of people who could be here you decided to go on. You wanted to let them watch you for a bit longer and maybe make a mistake.

So, you stand up, gently petting Martha and grabbing the bucket of warm milk. You would make some butter out of it today.

You put the bucket onto a wood panel, which served kind of as a counter. Then you heard a silent shuffle. It was almost enough to tell you who was standing as good as directly behind you.

“What do you want, Ghost?” You turned around, crossing your arms to look at your former Lieutenant. He was - to your surprise - not wearing any tactical gear but civilian clothing. That confused you.

Why would he creep up onto you wearing anything but his gear? That wasn’t really Ghost-like. But even if he somewhat looked like a normal human being he still had his mask on.

You sighed. “If you’re here to recruit me for some kind of fucked up mission you can leave already. I won’t come. I’ve got better stuff to do.” You faced your bucket of milk again, grabbing a couple of empty bottles to fill the milk into.

You expected Ghost to leave as quietly as he appeared but he stayed. “I’m on leave,” he said and you stopped dead in your tracks.

“You’re what?” You looked at him over your shoulder, barely able to hide the shock and confusement on your face and in your voice.

He shifted, stepping closer to you. “I said I’m on leave.”

You snorted. “And you decided to spend it with barging into my life and waiting for me in my barn at fucking 5 am?”

He looked at you, his eyes almost as sharp as a knife. “You’re the only one I know who isn’t actively in the military.”

You blinked at him. “I’ll give you that,” you then sighed, still confused. “But I wouldn’t say we were the best of friends, were we?”

You always thought Ghost didn’t like you. He barely spoke to you - only if it was necessary - and, well… he wasn’t particularly easy on you anyway. He wasn’t on anybody but it seemed like he pushed you way more than the others. You constantly needed to prove yourself worthy and all that shit. It didn’t really make you like him either.

“I know,” he simply said while looking around. “Can I stay here?” His eyes met yours again. A cold shiver ran down your spine.

You thought for a moment. Normally you wouldn’t have let him stay but you needed a 2nd hand for some repairs on the farm and Louis was way too small to help you. So, technically speaking, Ghost could and probably would be of great use…

So, you answered, “Only if you help around the farm. I have some stuff to repair here and I need a helping hand. Louis isn’t ready to help yet but you’ll do.”

Something flashed in his eyes before he straightened his back and rolled his shoulders. “Okay. Whatever you need.”

You grinned. “Great. Follow me!” You left the barn, the bucket of milk long forgotten. “I only have two bedrooms, one for myself and one for Louis, so you need to sleep on the couch,” you explained with a shrug. You both knew a couch was like luxury on the open field.

“That’ll do,” Ghost grunted, speeding up his steps. For your size you walked incredibly fast. “Who’s Louis?” he then dared to ask, accompanied with him clearing his throat.

“Louis?” you laughed. “He’s my son. Turned 7 a couple weeks ago. He’s still asleep. I hope.” You glanced at Ghost and you didn’t know if you were hallucinating but he seemed to relax at your words.

“Mom… Why is there a scary man standing in our kitchen?” you heard Louis' strained voice. Your head shot up from where you were ducked down, searching for your shoe.

“Louis, darling.” You rushed to his side and saw Ghost staring at your son, completely shocked. “This is Ghost. He’s a…colleague of mine. You don’t need to be scared of him.” You ruffled your son’s hair, gently hugging him from the side. Meanwhile you gave Ghost an urgent look to say something. At least a hello would be nice.

He can’t just stand in your kitchen like a 6’4’’ giant with the build of a fridge, expecting a 7 year old to not be scared of him.

He quickly got your hint and cleared his throat. “Hi Louis,” he said, his eyes looking almost insecure. “I’m Ghost.” He paused again. “Nice to meet you…”

“Why are you so tall?” Louis immediately asked, angling his head to look up at Ghost’s, the fright from moments ago completely forgotten.

“I…don’t know,” Ghost answered, looking down on himself. He was indeed quite tall. Not as tall as König though.

Louis was about to talk again but then you linked yourself in. “I’m sure he just ate really well as a child.” Ghost looked at you when you finished your sentence. Why did you answer for him? He was capable of talking on his own.

You on the other hand thought he didn’t want to answer. You knew he didn’t like to talk about himself and Louis - sadly on this occasion - was very interested in other people’s lives…

Louis turned his head to look at you, then at Ghost. “Do I get as tall as him when I eat all my vegetables?” His eyes were big and you needed to suppress a laugh. He barely even knew Ghost and he already wanted to be like him in a way…

“Of course darling.” You ducked down to whisper in his ear, “Maybe you’ll get even taller.” Louis started to grin and ran off to eat his breakfast. You watched after him with a gentle smile.

When you found out you were pregnant you didn’t know what to do at first but now… Now you enjoyed every single moment with your little boy even if he was a handful sometimes. You just loved him too much to be truly angry at him…

“I can talk for myself, y’know,” Ghost muttered, staring at you. You were shocked for a moment. You just did what you thought was right. Ghost didn’t like to talk about himself.

“I’m sorry. I just…you never liked talking about yourself and-“ you wiped a couple strands of hair out of your face. “-and I know Louis likes to question the shit outta other people. I just tried to help you out.” You looked at Ghost with your arms crossed in front of your chest.

He just grunted and turned away. “Where’s your tea?”

“2nd cupboard from the left,” you sighed. You knew he was difficult at times. Why exactly did you agree to him spending his leave here? You didn’t even know how long he was on leave.

You looked at Ghost. Nothing more. You just looked at him sleeping. He’s been with you for, what, two weeks now and you already asked yourself, if he maybe was on permanent leave?

Back, when you were still with the 141 Price never gave you more than 5 days off. He always said: Terrorists don’t sleep, so why was Ghost still here?

You silently sighed before you retreated into your bedroom. It was weird that he already slept because he was the night in person but maybe you managed to tire him out enough…

You knew you didn’t. He was used to way more stress… He surely just acted like he slept so you would go to sleep. This man was a true mystery to you.

You tossed and turned in your bed, your thoughts dodging any attempt to fall asleep. You thought you were going crazy. Not a single technique you learned in your military days helped you, so you let out a deep sigh and stood up.

You put on some clothes and quietly tapped out of your room. You saw Ghost still laying on the couch, relief washing over you. You didn’t need him to know you weren’t able to sleep, even if he probably felt the same.

You quickly grabbed your jacket and left. Once you were outside your feet found the way on their own while your eyes started to get used to the night. It wasn’t as dark as some nights but you still could barely make out the small way that led you over the dunes.

You pulled your jacket around you, the breeze being colder than you thought. Out of habit you scanned your surroundings, making sure there was nothing suspicious.

After a short walk you reached your destination. A small wooden observation deck on top of one of the dunes. You rarely saw people coming here so this quickly turned into your place to go when you needed to be on your own.

You leant against the railing, your eyes focused on the beach and the restless sea in front of you. You felt how you immediately calmed down. You really needed this moment for yourself.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes. Oh how you loved your life right now. You couldn’t wish for anything better.

You were alone with yourself and your thought for maybe half an hour before you felt a familiar presence behind you.

“I’m starting to believe you like to sneak up onto me,” you said without your eyes leaving the sea. You knew it would only be a matter of time until Ghost found you. He was a light sleeper, if he slept at all. He was a night person, just like you.

He just huffed, carefully walking towards you. He stood beside you, glancing down at you. “Why’d you leave?” he wanted to know, his eyes following your line of view. He found himself staring at the waves crashing at the shore.

“I just needed to think for a moment,” you replied, straightening your body with a sign. Ghost showed no reaction to your answer. Typical of him. Always asking, never answering.

After a couple moments of silence you decided to speak up. “Why are you really here Ghost? And don’t start with this “you’re the only non-military person i know”-bullshit! I know that you never were fond of me, so why are you here now? Matter of fact, why are you still here? We both know Price doesn’t give more than, what, four or five days of leave?” You turned to directly look at him. He was already facing you, the look in his eyes as piercing as always.

“What if I don’t want to answer that question?” he asked, slightly tilting his head. You huffed. That fucker.

“I don’t care that you don’t want to answer!” your voice grew louder. “All those years you pushed me around like some sort of…toy and now you show up in my fucking barn at freaking 5am and ask to stay with me during your leave.” You almost threw your hands in the air but warned yourself to try and keep calm. “Do you even hear how fucking…absurd that sounds?”

You tried to read the look in Ghost’s eyes but it was nearly impossible. The mask made it even harder. You took a deep breath, before continuing.

“I know nothing about you Ghost, other than maybe your last name and call sign and I worked years by your side. I’m putting an insane amount of trust into you right now, do you know that? I’m risking not only my live but most importantly my son’s by having you here so I think the least you can do is answer my question: why the fuck you are here?”

“Why…are you risking your life by having me here?” he asked, trying so hard to hide the confusion in his voice. You nearly started to scream. Was he actually stupid or did he just act like it?

“Why do you think I chose Denmark out of all the places in Europe?” You stared at him. “I’ll tell you why! It’s cause no one gives a single flying fuck about Denmark! There’re a shit ton of people after me but most importantly after you.” You pressed your index finger against his chest, unaware of how close you suddenly were to him. You heavily breathed, your thoughts clouded. “And if they find out you’re here not only you will be in danger but me and my son too. I swore to myself to leave anything military related behind the second Louis came into my life, so yes, at a certain point you’re risking my and his life.”

When you were finished you stepped back, clearly shocked about your rant. Fuck, that was embarrassing, you thought. He maybe wasn’t your superior anymore but you still had an immense respect for him. Under normal circumstances.

You wanted to start talking again to apologize but he cut you off. “I understand.” He did? “I’m causing you trouble. I’ll leave as soon as possible.” He turned to walk away and you groaned.

“Ghost! Wait!” He didn’t stop. “For fuck sake,” you cursed as you went to run after him. Insufferable man! “I didn’t ask for you to leave!” you nearly shouted and he came to a hold.

“Well, what is it then?” he snapped while turning around, throwing his hands in the air. He shouldn’t have followed you here in the first place, now he was knee deep into some shit.

“I just want to know why you’re here. I want to know what to expect of this whole thing here,” you answered. You're suddenly dangerously calm. “I wouldn’t have allowed you to stay if I wouldn’t be able to take the risk. I just want to know what you want here. What you really want here.”

Ghost blinked at you and you started to give up on getting an answer out of him but then he started to talk. “I wanted to spend time with you.” His voice was slightly shaking, going almost unnoticeable.

You were speechless for a moment. He wanted to spend time with…you? Who the fuck poisoned him? You opened your mouth to reply, trying to think of the right words.

“What?”

“I’m not gonna repeat myself,” he huffed, turning away again. “Do what you want with that information.” His voice was only a mumble but you still were able to hear it. Your head was spinning, not knowing what to think.

„You look scary with that mask.“

„I do?“

„Yea…“

Ghost smirked as Louis stared at him. You currently were in town to buy a couple of things and trusted Ghost enough to stay alone with Louis. He needed to admit, the young boy was funny.

„Why are you wearing it? Mom told me you wear it for work but you’re not working now.“ Louis tilted his head and Ghost sighed. The boy was right. He wasn‘t working right now but the mask comforted him in a maybe fucked up way. He didn’t want to take it off.

„I like how it feels on my face,“ Ghost tried to explain, looking down at Louis. „It makes me feel safe.“

„Oh…“ Louis stopped to think for a minute. „Just like my mom makes me feel safe, right?“ he then asked, staring up into Ghost’s eyes.

The older man nodded. „Yes, just like that.“

“Do you have another mask?”

“Why are you asking?”

“If your mask makes you feel safe whenever you wear it, maybe it would make me feel safe when I’m at school…”

Ghost stopped in his tracks, turning to look at Louis, the concern clearly visible in his eyes. “You don’t feel safe in school?”

“No… They always make fun of me because I only have my mom. They’re talking about their dads all the time and I don’t have one…” A quiet sob left Louis’ lips and Ghost felt an unfamiliar pang in his chest.

“They…they don’t hurt you, do they?” Ghost sat down on the grass, the barn door he wanted to fix long forgotten. He patted the stop beside him, motioning Louis to sit down. He needed to find out what was going on in that boy's school.

Louis hesitatingly sat down, avoiding Ghost’s eyes. He was quiet for a while and Ghost wanted to start talking to assure him everything was alright but then Louis broke the silence.

“They shove me sometimes,” he said, his voice quiet. “It doesn’t hurt or anything but I still don’t like it… They always call me Mommy’s boy and make fun of me because I’m not as good at sports as they are…” A silent tear was making its way down Louis’ cheek and Ghost wanted to reach out to wipe it away but…he was afraid.

“Have you ever thought of…defending yourself?” Ghost wanted to know after a while, glancing down at Louis again. “You shouldn’t just take what they throw at you.”

“I don’t know how. I never- I never even told my mom about it…” Louis averted his gaze further and Ghost knew it was because he was afraid that Ghost may think he was weak.

“Mhh,” Ghost hummed, leaning back on his arms. “Would you like to learn? I could teach you a thing or two. Nothing major of course but it could help you.”

Louis’ head shot up, an unknown sparkle in his eyes. He started to beam. “You would do that?”

“Of course,” Ghost smiled under his mask. „Just some basic self defense,“ he further explain, wondering why you didn‘t teach your son. If he had kids it would‘ve been the first thing he‘d teach them. The world could and would be cruel. He would want to prepare them for it.

„Fuck,“ you cursed as you picked up your phone. „Yes?“ you ask, giving Ghost a quick look. You two were currently in town, grocery shopping, when your phone rang. You didn‘t know who it was. You barely had any friends.

„What?“ you almost whisper in disbelief, the grip you had on the pack of noodles in your hand loosening. Before they could fall to the ground Ghost catches them, raising his eyebrow under his mask. What was going on?

„Of course, I‘ll be there as soon as possible. Yes, thank you for calling.“ You end the call, your hand slowly falling to your side. You only manage to blink for a couple seconds. Then you grab the noodles from Ghost‘s. „Louis school called. He got in a fight, we need to pick him up,“ you explain, throwing the noodles in the cart and pushing it forward.

Ghost only followed you, knowing that he probably was the reason Louis got into that fight. Would be funny to explain that to you…

You quickly pay and rush to the car. Once everything was packed away you started the engine. For two years Louis didn’t make trouble once and now he suddenly got in a fight? What the hell?

Ghost was quiet beside you, only looking at the road ahead.

When you pulled into the parking lot of the school you sighed, pushing a couple of hair strands out of your face. „Into the hell hole we go,“ you mutter while opening the door. Before you could close it, Ghost spoke up.

„I can go with you, if you want. I‘ll look out for Louis,“ he suggested and you stopped to look at him. Was he okay? He hated social interactions normally.

„Uh, sure. You can tag along,“ you reply, clearly surprised. Ghost nodded and opened his door. You wanted to ask about his mask but as you knew him he would keep it on.

You quickly brushed down your clothes before you entered the school, Ghost trailing behind you like a guard dog. It probably looked scary to anybody else but you were very used to it. He used to do it all the time while you still were with the 141.

After a couple minutes you stood in front of the principal's office, gently knocking. The sooner you were done with this, the sooner you‘d be home.

„Come in,“ you heard the voice of the principal. You cringed. He was a weird man, always so suggestive… Weird and disgusting in your eyes. That's why you never acted on it but well… men were men, weren‘t they?

You opened the door, walking in with a forced smile. „Hello Mr. Jorgensen.“ He stood up and gave you an almost nasty looking smile. It faded when he noticed Ghost behind you.

He extended his hand to greet you, then he turned his head to face Ghost. „And you must be Louis' father, am I right?“ He extended his hand again.

You were about to correct Jorgensen but Simon dryly replied for you. „Mr. Riley.“ Jorgensen nodded, visibly swallowing.

„You may have a seat,“ he then gestures towards the chairs in front of his desk. „I‘m well aware you know why I asked you to come here,“ Jorgensen starts, folding his hands on top of his desk. „Louis has been showing…concerning behavior lately and he probably should have contacted you earlier about it.“

„What behavior?“ You ask, slightly tilting your head. Louis always was a brave kid.

You could see that Jorgensen hesitated, his eyes jumping back and forth between you and Ghost. Was he scared to talk? „He broke another boys nose,“ he ripped the plaster off, straight up looking at you.

Before he could continue Ghost spoke up. „He was defending himself.“ Now you look at your old colleague in shock. Jorgensen didn‘t do anything different.

He cleared his throat. „Mind to elaborate on that Mr. Riley?“

Ghost straightened his back, mimicking Jorgensen‘s folded hands. „Kid‘s just defending himself. He‘s been bullied for months now. What did you expect him to do? Drink tea about it?“ His voice was cold and his eyes were piercing. You saw Jorgensen swallowing.

„We‘re still trying to find out what really-“

„Are you saying he‘s lying?“ Ghost questioned, leaning forward on his knees. „Are you saying that you don‘t believe him? A child doesn‘t hit without a good reason and it especially doesn’t break a nose because it feels like it.“

You saw how tense Ghost became and you decided to step in. You gently placed your hand on his shoulder. That caught him off guard.

„Thank you for giving us that information Mr. Jorgensen but I would like to see my son now. I assure you that I- we will have a talk with him as soon as we return home.“

„I…have no doubt in that,“ Jorgensen replied, standing up. „Please, follow me.“ He walked around his desk and out of his office. You and Ghost followed.

You walked down a hallway and then another door opened. In that room sat Louis. As soon as he saw you he jumped up, running into your arms. He started to cry as you held him close.

Jorgensen cleared his throat, turning to look at Ghost. „Well, Mr. Riley, I will leave your little family alone for now. I hope we don‘t see each other again about this matter.“ Then he left, but his words didn‘t. They would haunt Ghost until the early morning hours.

„Why did you do that?“ you immediately asked Louis when he calmed down, your voice gentle. It made no sense screaming at him now. „Did…they really bully you?“

Louis only nodded, sniffing. „Simon taught me how to do that,“ he then whispered, looking at Ghost behind you. You stiffed. Then you slowly turned around and stood up.

„You taught him how to do that?“ you asked, your voice on an edge. You didn‘t know if his name really was Simon but everything pointed in that direction. „Did you teach my son how to break noses?“ your voice rose but Ghost stayed calm. „I asked you something! Did you teach him that“ You were trembling, almost unable to control your anger.

Ghost looked at you and tilted his head. „Yes, I did teach him that. I‘m surprised you didn‘t.“ That only fuelled your anger even more.

„You‘re surprised I didn‘t teach him how to break noses and punch children?!“ You jammed your finger against his chest, forgetting that your son was able to witness all this.

„Yes, I am surprised!“ he replied, his voice also suddenly strained. „Why does someone with your abilities and knowledge doesn‘t teach his child how to defend himself from a bunch of little bastards?!“ Ghost‘s eyes grew dark and he made himself taller than he probably was.

„Because I am not a blood-thirsty monster like you!“ you yell back at him, shocked by your own words. You take a step back, swallowing. You didn‘t mean to say that. You didn‘t- Louis‘ trembling voice interrupts you.

„Mom?“ Your head snaps, looking at him. The look in his eyes is terrified. „Mom please don‘t yell…“ he pleads, his voice quiet.

„I’m- I’m sorry darling…“ your own voice is shaking, as well as your hands. You swallow again. „Come on, let’s get you out of here.“ You grab his hand, leading him past Ghost.

„You wanna walk?“ you snapped at him when he didn‘t follow. You didn‘t want to see his ugly mask but you also didn‘t want to leave him here alone…

You were back home again, it was late and Louis was already sleeping. You were in the kitchen preparing something to eat for you and well, for…Ghost. And as if you think of the devil you felt his presence behind you. You wanted to say something but he was faster.

„I care about him. That‘s why I taught him,“ he says and you turn around. He‘s leaning against the doorframe, looking at you.

You huff, „You care about him? Please, you know him for one month! How do you already care about him so much that you’re willing to teach him how to break fucking noses!“ Your voice was strained as you tried not to yell at him.

„I’ve known you for two weeks before I started to care about you!“ He replies, his voice calm but his eyes piercing. He pushed himself off the doorframe and walked towards you.

„Oh please, you didn‘t exchange one single word with me! You care about nobody!“ Ghost looks at you and for a second you believe you saw hurt in his eyes.

„That’s not true,“ he defends himself, coming to a hold just in front of you. You need to crane your neck to look up at him. His height really annoyed you sometimes.

„I care about people!“

You huff again, „And who are those people?“

„Johnny, Price, Gaz,“ he starts to list your former colleagues. „I care about Louis. I care about…you“ His voice fades and he turns his head away. „Believe it or not but I care about you.“

You swallow, struck by his confession. How do you answer something like that?

„If you care about me, why did you never make any effort to get to know me? I wanted to be friends with you, Ghost… Just like I‘m friends with Soap and the others.“ Your anger seemed to disappear and sadness took its place.

He didn‘t say anything and you sighed. You knew he wasn‘t good with feelings. Still, it annoyed you a little bit. You turn around, checking the noodles in the pot. The water should be boiling by now.

„I wanted to protect you…“ Ghost said after a minute of silence, his voice…unsure. He sounded even a bit insecure.

„From what?“ you ask in return, your gaze fixed on the food in front of you. You were more than capable of looking after yourself. You already had years of military experience before you joined the 141. Why, or better said, from what did he want to protect you?

“From me.” You felt his breath against your neck. Did he take off his mask? What the hell happened? “I wanted to protect you from that blood-thirsty monster I am,” he recalled the words you said when picking up Louis.

You closed your eyes, embarrassed at what you called him. He wasn’t a monster. Not to you at least…

“Look, I-” you start but he interrupts you.

“Don’t take back what you said because it’s true.” you hear his voice directly besides you ear and you can’t help but let out an unsteady breath.

You sigh, not daring to turn around. If you were right and he took his mask off you didn’t want to disturb his privacy. “Ghost-“

“Simon,” he interrupts you once again. “Call me Simon.”

“Okay.” Your gaze drifts down to the pot of noodles, carefully stirring it with a wooden spoon. “Simon… What I said- it’s not true. You’re not a blood-thirsty monster,” you try to clarify, signing once again. “I said it in the heat of the moment and-“

“And it’s true. I am who I am and I was protecting you from that.” He was placing his arms next to the stove, caging you in. You briefly closed your eyes, taking a deep breath to calm down. This was getting kinda…weird. Why was he suddenly talking like that?

“Why would you protect me from yourself?” you want to know, your voice almost cracking. Hell, why were you getting so emotional now?

“Because… Because I love you,” you felt his breath stutter and you wanted to reply but he just kept talking. “I love you and I have the terrible habit of getting the ones that I love killed. That was why I kept my distance. That was why I wanted to protect you from me. I didn’t want you to get hurt, I couldn’t forgive myself if you were hurt. But now, now that you left the 141 and…me I realized that maybe, maybe I should…risk it and that I should make up for all the times I hurt you because I wanted to keep you safe…”

Simon had finished and you needed a couple minutes to sort your thoughts out. He was still standing beside you, his hot breath almost burning your skin. “I…don’t know what to say,” you whisper, too overwhelmed and confused by his confession.

“Then say nothing,” he replied in a, suddenly, very gentle voice, now placing his hands on your hips. You were immediately melting into his touch. How many nights did you dream of that already? Now it was turning into reality…

He carefully turned you around to face him but you kept your gaze low, not daring to look into his eyes. If he really was without his mask-

“Look at me,” he whispers. Then you feel his hand on your chin, carefully lifting it up. You were now looking directly at him.

You were almost starstruck as you saw his face. It was…so much more handsome than you imagined it. He had messy blond hair, a little stubble and—god forbid—scars littered all across his face but you loved it.

Unconsciously your hand reached out to trace his features, slightly flinching when he grabbed it. He caressed your wrist with his thumb, slowly raising it to his mouth to press a little kiss onto it.

“Do you understand now?” he asks you, leaning down to be face to face with you. You only manage to nod, too overwhelmed by this whole situation.

He gave you a little smile, then he starts to tilt his head. “Can I kiss you?” he wants to know after a couple moments of silence and again you can’t manage more than a nod.

He smiled again before pulling you in to capture your lips with his and you feel like heaven. Was this really Simon Riley, Lieutenant Ghost, kissing you? You felt like you took a wrong turn somewhere but…it was good.

After you break the kiss he keeps you close, one of his hands on your hip, the other at the back of your head. “Let me show you that I love you,” he mutters, starting to trail kisses down your neck.

You let out a satisfied sigh, your hands finding the way into his hair. You would let him. You would let him show.

Not in bed though. He didn’t deserve that just yet.

„God, that kid is a handful sometimes,“ Simon groans as he flops down on your bed, belly first. You only laugh at him, putting your book aside.

„You get used to it,“ you smirk, your hand finding its way into his hair. „I‘ve been handling him for 7 years now…“ You laugh at his facial expression, pressing a gentle kiss on his head.

Before you can pull back he grabs your face, locking his lips on yours, a satisfied hum leaving his mouth. You smile into the kiss.

„You‘re gonna be the death of me,“ you chuckle after breaking the kiss.

„Better kill you with my charm, then my gun,“ he mumbles in reply, before pulling you in again. He shifts, so he’s on top of you, supporting his weight with his arms.

Your hands caress the back of his head, then his cheeks and his neck. You sigh into the kiss.

After he breaks the kiss he lays down between your legs, his head on your stomach and his arms around your waist. You softly smile down at him. Never in a million years you would‘ve thought that one day your former Lieutenant would lay in your bed, cuddling with you. It was like a fever dream…

„Everything okay, love?“ he mumbles against your stomach, looking up at you. You smile again.

„Yes, nothing to worry about.“ Your hands find their way into his hair again, gently playing with the dirty blonde strands. You were savoring this moment because it could be any day that he needed to leave again…

You were close to dozing off when he started talking again. „Price reached out to me…“

„And?“ you mumble back at him, well aware of what was to come. You were already preparing yourself for the day he‘d leave. You knew he couldn‘t stay forever.

„Said I need to come back. I’ve been gone for almost two and a half months…“ The words were heavy on Simon‘s tongue as he tightened his hold around you.

„When will you leave,“ you gently ask, continuing to play with his hair. You enjoy the feeling of him just laying on top of you. It made you feel safe. You didn‘t want him to leave you again.

„They‘ll pick me up tomorrow,“ he sighs and you don‘t even bother asking how they know where to pick him up. He managed to find you too, didn‘t he?

„Tomorrow?“ you smirk, grabbing his face to pull you up to you. „Better make the best out of tonight then, huh?“ You feel him smile against your lips, propping himself up on his arms above you.

„You damn right sweetheart,“ he whispers against your lips, leaving you a puddle. The power he had over was crazy.

374 notes · View notes

stvolanis · 4 months

Text

All Dolled Up

PT. 3

PT. 2

PT. 1

PAIRINGS: Dads best friend! Perv! Elvis Presley x innocent OC

WARNINGS: age gap (OC is 18 and Elvis is in his early 40s), foul language, inaccurate timeline probably, OC is a crybaby, cursing, talk of running away, OCs brother finds out about them, sexual themes in a barn

NSFW WARNINGS: dom!Elvis, sub!oc, daddy kink, making out, thigh riding, oc and Elvis almost get caught, oral (f and slightly m receiving), fingering, slapping, spitting, choking, degradation (whore, slut), praise, corruption kink, breeding kink, housewife kink ig?, nipple play, boob job, mentions of lactating,

sorry if I missed anything!!

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

Kim woke up the next morning groggily. Her mind was hazy from the previous night, and it was all she could think of as she dolled herself up—for the presence of Elvis was near and strong.

Today, she wore a bold red off the shoulder sundress paired with black mary janes and her signature frilly white socks. Her hair was in a high ponytail, held by a black ribbon. Her bangs framed her face almost perfectly and she smelled of warm vanilla.

Kim knew he was there, somewhere in her family’s small house. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to look the brooding man in the eye yet, afraid he’d pounce onto her before she could even react. But alas, she also knew that she couldn’t avoid him forever. Not that she really wanted to, anyway.

So, as she opened her large white door and rounded the corridor—there he sat. Manspread on the couch, taking up almost half of it as if he owned it. His hair was messy and fallen in his stupidly perfect face. He wore a wife-beater and jeans that hugged his strong thighs just right.

The light was dim, but the light from the TV highlighted against the sharp features of his muscles and face. Kim felt her breath snap away from her as his eyes suddenly met hers all over again. He was so pretty. So, so, unbelievably pretty. And in that moment, the one thing Kim could finally settle on, is the fact that she was completely and utterly smitten by Elvis Presley.

Never had she ever felt this way for any man or woman before. It frightened her to no end, yet—she wanted—no. Craved more of him. More of his chuckles, more of his warmth, more of his touch—she wanted him more than anything. But, she knew she couldn’t ever really have him.

Even as he sat there on her couch, in her home—even when he had sat on her bed the previous night; he was merely always going to be out of reach. Their fingertips being only met. She was his secret, as he was hers. And, it seems that’s all they could ever be as long as she lived under her fathers roof.

The nagging voice in the back of Kim’s mind knew this couldn’t go on, but she couldn’t help it. “Y’jus gon’ stand there all day, or c’mere n let me love on ya’, baby?” He asked with a charming smile. Kim felt a warm sigh slip past her lips as she dragged her body to where Elvis sat.

“Where’s my father?” She asked as he perched her on his lap and tucked her face into his neck. “Gone, with ya’ brother.” He replied as he rubbed circles into the small of her back. She hummed in acknowledgment.

His body was warm and firm against hers, a contrast compared to her skin soft to the touch and slightly cold. His scent was intoxicating; wood, old spice with a lingering hint of tobacco. The small circular ash trey with the remnants of a cigar confirmed her thoughts.

His chest rose and fell beneath her at a steady pace as they basked in the comforting silence. Her fingers danced across his clothed chest gently. A show played on from the TV, but it only played as background noise in the darkened room. Kim felt content. More than she ever had.

She’d never felt the warmth of any other man besides her father and brother, but Elvis felt extraordinary to her. She felt protected as his strong arms tightened around her small frame, securing her seat on his lap. Kim wished to live in this moment with him forever, but thoughts plagued her mind as the world grew quieter around her than it ever had been before. All she could hear was his soft exhales if she really paid attention.

“What’re ya thinkin’ ‘bout, honey?” His soft voice broke her out of her daze. Kim’s eyes met Elvis’ for a moment, unsure. “I just—” she stammered. Her voice caught in her throat and she felt herself become breathless as her eyes began to water. “We can’t do this, Elvis.” She stated as she stared up at him.

The older man pursed his lips and his brows furrowed. His calloused hands cupped the sides of her face as he brought his closer to hers. “Let me take ya away from here, then.” He whispered, determination swirling in his eyes. “Ya know I can’t—I—my father—my brother, Elvis!” She stumbled over her words.

“They’re grown, darlin’, they can take care of themselves.” He replied. He wished to know what was going on behind her pretty eyes. The thoughts she was having so he could bid all the negative ones goodbye. Elvis longed to take his gem away from this rusted town before anyone else could. As his lips brushed against hers, she felt herself melt into him.

His lips were plump and soft, wet and warm as it become more heated. The kiss was intense as their teeth clashed against each other, tongues dancing and tangled. He lightly bit her bottom lip and Kim let out the faintest moan as her pussy began to familiarly dampen.

Elvis could feel her leaking through on his thigh. A small wet patch on his pant leg evident. “Fuckk, look at you, such a slut f’me, hm?” He mocked. Kim whimpered at his words. Usually, she’d take great offense to such degradation, but as she squirmed on his thigh and applied pressure to her sensitive clit—she wanted nothing more than to be his slut.

Embarrassment burned her cheeks as she found herself humping along his thigh for some kind of relief to the aching of her core. Elvis groaned at the little nymph in his arms and watched as she desperately tried to get herself off. He lifted his thigh a little to add more pressure to her clothed pussy.

“S’not enough!” She yelled out, hot and frustrated. Panting heavily as her body burned all over; begging to be touched by the older man she sat on. “Oh, baby, I know. Let daddy take care of you.” He cooed as he watched her eyes water again. Such a crybaby. His crybaby.

Kim bit her lip. Daddy. Such a vile thing to call him, yet it only made her all the more longing for him and she couldn’t place exactly why.

Just as Elvis took it upon himself to slide his hand into her panties, they jumped as they heard the familiar sound of the front doorknob rattling. Kim straightened herself as she sat furthest away from Elvis on the small couch. Her hair was a mess and her face was flushed. Her breathing was wavering and uneven as she rubbed her wet thighs together, letting out a small moan.

Elvis looked at her sternly, and Kim immediately toned down. In walked her father, followed by her dearest older brother who seemed rather sweaty and pissed.

Her father nodded at Elvis the way all men do, and Elvis casually returned it as if he didn’t have Kim on him humping against his thigh like a bitch in heat. “Elvis, hope Kims not botherin’ ya” Her father smiled. “She’s no bother at all.” He replied with a knowing smirk.

Kim gulped. “I was just telling him about how you partnered with the local fishermen, father.” She smiled. Elvis almost let a ‘good girl’ out at how good of a liar she was being. Any other time—Elvis would have her bent over his knee with her round ass bare and red from his hand prints for such a thing.

“Ah, yeah, I built my own farm and I sell meat from the the cattle and eggs from the chicken. It’s a business I profit quite a lot off of and the fishermen started supplying me with fish to sell them too.” He stated proudly. Truthfully, Elvis did not care for his farm or the fishermen—he was more pissed that he’d interrupted his time with his little angel.

Alas, Kim’s father made quick work of talking his ear off. Kim’s brother was no idiot, though. He knew his little sister inside and out. Her wavering breaths and flushed face didn’t go unnoticed to him as the two older men began a conversation.

Already pissed, he took it upon himself to grab his sisters arm and drag her off towards the secluded kitchen. “Kimberly.” Her brother started. “I don’t know what you’re doin’ with that man, but I’ll tell you this one time and one time only—stop.” He said firmly as he searched his sisters face.

The guilt that had been gnawing away at Kims conscience was all too much under her older brothers judgemental gaze. Her eyebrows furrowed and her lips began to tremble as they always do at the slight tone change of someone close to her. She was ashamed, as she knew she should be—but she couldn’t control nor help the way that she felt about Elvis.

“M’ sorry, but I really like him.” She muttered as tears ran down her face. Marcus sighed deeply as he ran a hand through his hair. “Kim, yknow dad will never be okay with it.” He stressed.

The younger girl sniffled. “Marcus, I wanna leave with him.” She said firmly. Her brothers mouth hung agape. “Are you out of your mind, Kimberly?! You just met this man!” He whisper -yelled.

“I know, but he’s different, Marcus! He’s not like your friends or the boys I go to school with. He sees me. Like—I mean he really sees me.” She said. Marcus knew his little sister was struggling. She was a single pale rose in a field of weeds, and he knew as much as she did that if she stayed any longer, she’d wither away. Wasted talent. Wasted youth. Wasted innocence.

She wasn’t made to work on a farm her whole life, or looked at like a complete child by half of the town. Kimberly was meant to shine like the sweet gem she was, and Elvis was going to make sure of that. His gem. His woman.

“Please, Marcus. He makes me happy. The happiest I’ve been since..mom.” She whispered. she searched her brothers eyes hopefully, and felt relief wash over her at his sharp intake of breath and firm nod. “Alright, Kim, but I’m taking no part in it.” He replied.

A smile danced across her face as she hugged her older brother tightly. “Thank you, thank you!” She replied happily. And at the end of the day, that was all Marcus wanted for her. Happiness. And if Elvis Presley could give it to her, then so be it. He just better not fuck up.

“Me and dad are gonna have to leave again, tomorrow morning at 9:30. If you wanna leave, that’s the best time to do it.” He whispered in her ear. Kimberly nodded in understanding before she made her way back to Elvis and her father, her brother following close behind.

“Kimberly, why don’t you go show Elvis around the barn?” Her father suddenly asked. Kim knew Elvis had no interest in the barn, but the glint in Elvis’ eye told her that he had other plans. “Of course, father. C’mon, Elvis.” She smiled up at him.

She led him through the small house, out to the back pasture. The sky was beautiful, as night was approaching. The moon just barely visible in a waning crescent. The crickets and the sound of rowdy animals were the only sound that could be heard, along with the older man’s heavy foot steps behind her.

The barn was nothing spectacular. A basic, old, red and white barn with two large doors. Typical, the kind you’d see in movies. The animals were all out in the pasture, leaving the barn secluded and empty. Marcus cleans the barn out every morning after he lets the animals lose, so it was pretty tidy in there as she opened the doors and led him inside.

It was bright inside as the light was on and hanging above the two, and it slightly smelled of grains and wheat.

Kimberly jumped at the sound of the door slamming shut behind her. She didn’t have time to turn around before she felt Elvis’ large body pressed against her from behind. His hands traveled around her body, groping at anything he could greedily. He held her neck in one hand in a fairly tight grip as he tilted her head slightly. He began kissing along her jaw as his free hand groped her breast.

“Elvis—” she gasped as he began sucking and licking against her jaw. Her panties were already soaked from earlier, before they were interrupted, but now they were ruined. “Been waitin’ to finish what I started, baby.” He said against her ear.

Kimberly was pushed against a hay bale and bent over by the older man. Her pussy clenched around nothing at his manhandling as she released a whimper. “M’ gon’ Taste this perfect cunt, yeah, baby?” He said as she heard him drop to his knees.

Elvis hiked her dresses up and bunched it around her waist, groaning at her ruined panties. “This all f’me, hm?” He asked as he groped her ass. At no response, he slapped her ass hard enough to sting. “When I’m talkin’ to ya’ I expect a response, ya’ hear.” He stated firmly as he pressed a kiss to where he slapped.

She gasped at the impact and whimpered. “Yes, daddy. M’ sorry.” She replied as she began to squirm around, desperately seeking more of his touch. “Who’re ya’ this wet for?” He asked. “You, Elvis, only you.” She whimpered out with a huff.

“Good girl.” He muttered as he ran his finger along her panty covered pussy. She groaned lightly in response. “Please, Elvis!” She begged. “Whadya need, honey?” He asked tauntingly. “Tell me n’ daddy will make it better.” He added as his nose brushed against her clit, inhaling her scent deeply.

“Need your mouth, daddy, please!” She replied. Elvis groaned at her obedience, and he felt his slacks tighten around his crotch area. He used his index finger to push her soaked panties to the side, and he gripped his cock through his slacks at the sight in front of him.

Her pussy was dripping in her juices, and her scent was strong as her little hole clenched around nothing desperately. Her clit was puffy and red, swollen with need. “Awh, been neglecting’ this pretty little pussy for too long, huh, satin’?” He asked mockingly as one of his long, slender fingers prodded at her entrance.

“Mhmmm.” The small girl replied as her lips trembled. How badly she wanted him to ravish her, and make her cum like she never has before. Ever since the first time he’d made her cum, it’s all the little nymph had been thinking about. She couldn’t get enough of him.

Elvis raised his hand before bringing it down again to slap her clit. Kimberly jolted forward. “Elvis!” She whimpered out. The older man merely chuckled. He blew on her sensitive pussy before began to lick along her pussy.

His tongue began doing things Kim had no idea it was capable of doing, and she felt her toes curl. He lapped at her sensitive cunt like a starved man, sucking her swollen bud in his mouth harshly and releasing it with a light ‘pop’ sound before his tongue found its way inside her pussy. He began to fuck her with his tongue with such passion, making Kimberly a whimpering, moaning mess before him.

“Oh, Elvis! Please! S-So good, oh my god!” She moaned out, nearly breathless as her mouth hung agape. He groaned into her pussy, and the vibrations began to be too much for her as her hips began to move forward, trying to get away from his torment on her weeping cunt.

He let out almost an animalistic growl as his arms firmly gripped her thighs back. “Don’t be fuckin’ brat, m’ not finished yet Kimberly.” He said firmly before he began to eat her pussy once more. His tongue began to work faster at her clit and he brought his finger up to her tight hole, harshly pushing it in.

He began fingering Kim with force as he suckled her clit into his mouth once more, and that was all it took for Kimberly to squirt all over the older man’s face with a loud moan.

“Daddy! Oh—“ she moaned out as her hand turned to grip Elvis’ hair. He didn’t let up on her poor pussy, and began to lap up all her juices. He drank her in as if he couldn’t get enough, and the truth was, he couldn’t. He felt like he’d die if he didn’t get every last bit of her. He was sloppy with the way he licked up that last of her juices, and he didn’t care. He was drunk on the taste of her sweet moans and pussy.

“Please, i can’t, s’ too much, daddy!” She whimpered as tears began to line her eyes. His little crybaby. “Sorry, baby, y’taste so fuckin’ good.” He moaned against her, but hearing her trembling voice made him stop his abuse on her sensitive pussy. He gave her clit one last kiss, and Kimberly felt herself melt.

“Are you gonna um..put your thing in me now, Elvis?” She asked hopefully. He shook his head. “M not takin’ your virginity in a barn, sweetheart. You deserve better than that honey.” He replied with a light chuckle. He shimmied her panties off of her and stuffed them in his back pocket to add to his collection.

“Wanna take care of ya too, daddy, can I? Please?” She asked as she peered behind him, batting her pretty little lashes. “Can’t say no to my princess when she asks so nice, can I?” He smiled as Kimberly lifted herself up.

“I got a lil somethin’ different in mind, honey.” He said as he helped her stand to her feet. Her legs were still shakey from her previous mind shattering orgasm that the man in front of her gave her. She could still see her juices on his chin and lips, and she blushed at the sight.

Elvis sat on the hay bale Kimberly was just bent over, and motioned for her to get onto her knees. Kimberly, being the obedient girl she was, did as told. “I want ya’ to give me a boob job, Kimberly.” Elvis stated as he began to unzip his slacks, slightly sitting up to let them drop to his ankles along with his boxers.

“A boob job? I-I dunno how to do that, Elvis.” She replied. Kimberly was the least experienced person Elvis had ever been with, and she knows that. But something Elvis would never say out loud is that the fact she’s so innocent, so pure and sweet beyond belief turns him on more than any other woman ever has.

Being able to mold her just right to fit him, teaching her to know just exactly how to please him while also pleasuring herself made his cock unbearably hard. Turning her into his personal obedient slut till all she knows how to do is be good for him and him only. God, how badly he wanted to make her his perfect little house wife. Knock her up with a few kids, make her all round and pretty.

“I’m gon’ teach ya’, baby. Don’t worry.” He said with a reassuring smile. Elvis pulled down the front of Kimberly’s off-shoulder dress, and her breasts spilled free. Her nipples hardened against the cold air, and stood perky. She had a small mole just above her left breast, and Elvis made sure to add that to the number of moles he counted on her beautiful body.

Her breasts were slightly uneven, one bigger than the other. Kimberly always told herself it was because the slightly bigger one was because it was where her heart rested. Her heart full of so much love to give to everyone, yet Elvis wanted it all to himself.

Every mole, every scar, every stretch mark—everything. He wanted everything Kimberly had to offer him.

Kimberly became insecure under his watchful gaze, and moved to cover her breasts. “I know they’re not—“ she began, but Elvis wasn’t having it. “Don’t ever hide from me, honey. They’re fuckin’ perfect.” He replied as he slightly leaned down to place a kiss on both nipples, to which Kim bit her lip.

He pinched both of her nipples with his index and pointer finger before slightly pulling them. Kim gasped at the way he began to tug on them, slightly whimpering. “Elvis” she said, her breathing uneven as he began twisting them. He leaned back down and began suckling one of her nipples in his mouth.

She could feel his tongue swirling around her bud, and nearly jumped as she felt him bite down enough to sting. Her fingers threaded through his dark hair as she moaned at the stimulation.

All Elvis could think about was her breasts being full of milk. The way it would taste. How greedy he would be. He felt like such a school boy all over again, a pervert, even. Stealing her panties, watching her touch herself, jacking off to the thought of her—he knew it was wrong but he couldn’t seem to help himself.

He released her nipple with a loud ‘pop’. Kim’s eyes couldn’t ignore his prominent, hard, aching cock standing tall in front of her. It had a slight curve and his mushroom tip was an angry kind of red. “Spit on it like i taught ya, baby.” He urged. Kim nodded and spit onto his cock before taking it into her small hand.

Her hand didn’t even completely fit around it, and his girth seemed inhumane. His cock felt warm to the touch as she began to stroke him up and down at a steady pace, making sure her saliva was spread evenly around his cock.

“Can I kiss it, daddy? Like you kissed my pussy?” She asked. Elvis let out a chuckle, nodding. “‘Course, baby.” He replied. That was all Kimberly needed to hear as she kissed his swollen tip all over. Her sloppy kisses trailed down to the base of his cock, and Elvis gently held her head as he bit his lip.

“Alright, Kimberly. Press those pretty tits together f’me.” He said. She looked up at him, slightly confused, but did as was told. She bunched her breasts together and watched as Elvis slid his weeping cock between them. “You gotta hold ‘em tight, or it won’t work.” He corrected.

Kimberly nodded and put more pressure against her breasts, making Elvis groan. “Good girl, now, move em up n’ down. Like you would if you were suckin’ my cock.” He instructed.

Kimberly moved them up and down just like he told her to, and she watched his face contort into that of pleasure. His mouth hung agape and his breathing became heavy. His pupils were blown out and his cheeks became red as she quickened her pace.

“Thaaaat’s it, good fuckin’ girl. Listen to me so well, Kimberly.” He groaned out. She loved hearing his praises, just as she loved making him proud. She chased for his approval as she stuck her tongue out and slightly bent her head down, so that every time she moved her breasts down, his top would slightly slide into her mouth.

“Holy shit, such a slut, god ‘m gonna fuckin’ ruin that pretty face, yeah? Ya’ want that?” He husked out. Kimberly eagerly nodded her head in response. “Please, daddy, want your cum. Want it so bad” she whimpered out.

“I know, satin, i know. Just like that, fuckkkk.” He groaned out, throwing his head back as she squeezed her breasts together even tighter. His cock began to twitch, and Kimberly could tell he was close by the way he was gripping the hay bale beneath him and his breathing became quicker.

“Shit, shit, shit, ‘m gon’ cum, Kimberly. Gon’ cum all over that pretty face n you’re gonna fuckin’ take it, whore.” He growled out as he gripped the base of her ponytail. “Yes, Elvis. Give it t’me, please. Want your cum.” She replied, her breath uneven.

Elvis couldn’t control himself as his cock began spurting cum, all over Kimberly’s face. Coating her lips, cheeks and forehead, dripping down her chin. He moaned loudly as she rode him out, spurting the last bits of cum he had to offer her.

“Good girl, such a good girl.” He groaned out. He felt he could cum again at the sight below him. His girl. On her knees for him. Covered in his cum. Her pussy still dripping for him. He wished he could take a picture of the way she looked right now, cause he’d keep her picture in his wallet everywhere he went. She looked so pretty covered and scented in him.

“I did good, Elvis?” She asked eagerly with a smile as she peered up at him through lashes. He nodded with a smile. “Yeah, honey, did so well.” He replied.

He used his finger to scoop up all of the cum on hee face before bringing it to her mouth. “Don’t want it to go to waste, satin” he said with a smirk. Her mouth opened and greedily lapped up the cum on his finger before sucking it in to make sure she got every drop off of it.

She released his finger with a familiar popping sound and Elvis stood, picking his boxers and pants back up before he helped Kimberly to her feet. “My knees hurt, Elvis.” She said with furrowed brows.

“I know, baby, we’ll fix ‘em up nice ‘n good, yeah?” He said reassuringly as he lifted her chin to give her a kiss. “Okay.” She mumbled against his soft lips. The kiss wasn’t lustful. It wasn’t fast. It was soft, and gentle. A peck. His lips resting on hers with a smile.

He felt her small warm hands come up and rest against his cheeks, holding his face in her hands as she leaned back to look him in the eyes. "if you want to leave, our time to do it is tomorrow. my brother and father will be gone." she whispered, as if someone would hear them.

Elvis smiled widely. “You’ll leave with me?” He asked, making sure he heard her correctly. She giggled as she pressed a kiss to his nose. “Yes, Elvis. I’ll leave with you.” She confirmed with a laugh. Elvis held her tightly as he spun her around, slightly lifting her feet of the ground as he placed kisses all over her face.

“Thank you, baby. Promise ‘m not gon’ make you regret it. We’ll catch a flight outta here ‘n I’ll take you back to Graceland. You’ll love it there.” He said happily.

And Kimberly basked in the feelings she’d never felt for anyone romantically before. Love. Pure love.

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

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athenaistired · 3 months

Text

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐔𝐂❞

— 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐭.𝟒 //

ᴘʟᴏᴛ: ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀʟʟ.

art credit & word count: 4747

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ (ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ꜱᴘᴏɪʟᴇʀꜱ): ᴍᴀᴊᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ᴍᴜʀᴅᴇʀ ᴀᴛᴛᴇᴍᴘᴛ, ᴀʙᴜꜱɪᴠᴇ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘꜱ, ᴛᴏxɪᴄ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘꜱ, ᴜɴʜᴇᴀʟᴛʜʏ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘꜱ, ɢᴜɴꜱ, ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ, ᴅᴜᴇʟɪɴɢ, ʙʟᴀᴄᴋᴍᴀɪʟ

— 𝑴𝒀 𝑳𝑼𝑺𝑻𝑭𝑼𝑳 𝑯𝑼𝑺𝑩𝑨𝑵𝑫 !4!

It has been a month since Donna had miscarried the baby. The tension in the house was over the roof, but what irritated Diluc further is that you always seemed to be in great spirits.

Their dark circles, weight loss, depressive states — none of that phased you. In fact, there was one time when the redheaded man was getting ready to collect some flowers in the Whispering Woods, and you watched him leave the house whilst standing in the hallway and waving him a good-bye with that shit-eating smirk that never left your face.

There was something evil in your eyes ever since he came back. You were not the same person that he knew once — you felt like a demon. A witch.

Every time he left somewhere, he was terrified that you would do something to Donna. Your actions felt like a slow build-up to a gradual event, and he couldn’t help but worry himself into sickness. Diluc always kept any form of a weapon on himself, and even his lover started sleeping with a knife under her pillow just in case you’ll come back to haunt her once more.

Planning your murder was not an easy task. There were multiple things that they had found in their way.

First, it was your absolute authority over the house and Mondstat. The attack couldn’t happen anywhere where you could have a potential escape route or a protector. You had to either be caught by a surprise, or be forced into attacking first to initiate the whole ordeal.

Second, your servant Marie. She wasn’t always visible, but her spirit was everywhere where you went. Diluc the other day had also caught a sight of a Hydro Vision embedded at the back of the maid’s long black skirt. He wasn’t sure if she specialized in the healing ability or fighting, but as the time went on he did realize one thing for certain — Marie wasn’t a mere servant, she was your personal bodyguard. Knowing you, you wouldn’t have someone responsible for your safety without proper insurance.

Third, your abilities. Even after all these weeks of living under the same roof as you, there was still not much known about you. He had attempted to investigate and find out if there were any potential trump cards that they still weren’t aware of, but he came up to nothing. In fact, the more he dug, the more their murder attempt was feeling less and less possible.

“Donna, there’s only one way that this can be done.” The redheaded man whispered, and his words made the woman tremble and grow pale.

“Absolutely not.” She instantly replied, but instead of a living gaze that she grew to love — eyes as cold as ice stared back at her. Her lover was fed up with everything. He just wanted it all to be over.

“I am giving you a month. If you don’t come up with a new idea — I will get this done the way I see fit.” He warned her, absolutely refusing to back down on his decision.

He couldn’t let you win.

He. Couldn’t. Let. You. Win.

Never.

He would rather die.

“But Diluc—“ Donna begged from the bottom of her heart, but her plea was silenced once the man rose a palm before her face, tactically telling her to shut up. Brunette’s heart ached. She felt heavy, as if she was about to crash through the ground and fall down straight into hell itself.

She was losing Diluc.

To you.

There was a knock on the door, and soon no other but Marie had walked through the door. Just a few weeks ago, she would ask for permission before entering. However, the more your terror and power grew, the less Donna and Diluc were respected or cared for by the servants of the house. They all admired you on another level, and saw the two “guests” as nothing more than nuisances.

“Master Y/N is expecting both of you for breakfast.” The maid proclaimed after a small bow of her head. Well, she might have had no respect for their privacy, but she sure was always a well-mannered woman.

“Tell that witch to stop playing fucking house already.” Diluc snarled back like an angered animal. His fists were already clenched just at the thought of you. Marie lightly frowned at the harshness of the words, but didn’t let it show.

“For today’s breakfast we have prepared a freshly made croissant bake topped with cinnamon custard and wild berries.” The maid continued on as if the other two were not even in the room, “You’re expected to be downstairs in 5 minutes, so that the food does not get cold. Do not make Master Y/N wait for you.”

And just as Diluc was about to say further insults into her back, the maid had left the room.

“Good morning, you two.” You said the moment the parasites had entered the dining room. You watched Marie pour you another cup of tea. Today it was buckwheat tea with some honey as a sweetener, your personal favorite. The maid’s graceful hands clothed with black velvet gloves carefully moved the ceramic teapot and gently placed it back down. It didn’t even make a sound against the wood of the table once it was put down, “I pray that you had a good night’s sleep.”

“Are you having fun doing all of this?” Diluc snarled at you, and you rose a curious brow. Marie’s expression grew darker, but you put your hand up to stop her.

“Let him speak.” You said to your maid, and although she hesitated, she straightened up her back once again and put her hands behind her back.

“Diluc, stop.” Donna tugged at her lover’s sleeve, but the man instantly pulled away from her.

You watched in amusement as his resentment towards you was now pouring out and poisoning everything around that he loved. A woman that he treasured, carried around in his arms, and claimed to marry in the future — was now humiliated and ridiculed by no other but himself.

“No, Donna, let me tell this bitch exactly what I think.” Diluc said to Donna and began quickly approaching you. You didn’t even flinch, but continued to drink your tea as if nothing was happening, “Tell me, is this.. Fun?” He said almost straight in your face, “Is this.. A twisted desire of yours? Revenge? A fucking joke?!” You watched in disgust as the droplets of saliva from his mouth landed over your dishes.

You picked up a teaspoon and lightly clicked it against the plate. Marie instantly was on your opposite side picking up the dishes off the table. Both Diluc and Donna seemed confused by what was happening, but didn’t say a word.

You stood up from your chair, and stared long and deep into your husband’s eyes. You were trying to find at least small bits of evidence that the man you once loved was still there. However, as you searched — you couldn’t find even the smallest bits. You wondered, what would the Diluc from the past think about this? How would he react to what had happened between both of you? Would he allow himself to live knowing the shame he had brought upon his own family name?

No, that Diluc would choose death over being such a disgusting creature that was in front of you.

“You are just a dead man, fuming with rage and grief. There’s a deep hole in your heart that nothing can fill, and this malice that’s spilling out of you will never end unless you’ll rot away six feet under. You never got over your father’s death, and you make it everyone else’s problem. Well, you know what, Diluc? You’re not the only one who lost something important that day you left.” You could see his vision glowing, as if it wanted to spit fire at you right there and then, “Grow the fuck up already.” You said in a cold tone that made the whole room fall silent. Diluc blinked once, twice, and took a step back. Satisfied, you turned around to where Marie stood, “I will have my breakfast in my office.”

“Of course, Master Y/N.” The maid bowed and then held up the door open for you to leave.

“Ah, and one more thing.” You turned around, but this time you faced the brunette woman rather than the hot-headed idiot, “Donna, darling, you’re only 19 years old. Don’t waste away your years on this disappointment of a man like I did. He’ll turn on you the same way he did on me, then will cheat on you with a younger woman or man, and you’ll be left alone to pick up his shit after him.” You sighed, “I wasn’t always the way I am today. I know that, that feeling that’s been growing in me back then, is now growing in you. Listen to your gut, and make the right decision.” And with that, you finally left the room leaving both of them in a stupor.

“Oh, for fucks sake!” Diluc roared like an animal and smashed his fist against the wall. Donna stood behind him, slightly hesitant to move. Ever since she listened to your speech, she couldn’t seem to get her head out of clouded thoughts. You laid the seeds of your plans — to grow them apart as much as you could.

Rightfully so.

“Please, just.. Calm down..”

And it was working.

“Calm down? Calm down?! CALM DOWN?!” The man pulled at his own hair. He really did seem to be slowly losing his mind, “Are you fucking serious with me right now? They are humiliating me!” He let out a small laugh of disbelief, but Donna was dead serious.

“Why don’t you go on a walk? Cool down. Maybe let out some steam fighting Hilichurls. Go do something else except just.. Being here.” She breathed out a suffocated breath. It felt like she had been holding in these words ever since yesterday — and now she was finally able to let them out, “They’re getting into your head, Diluc.”

“They’re getting into MY head? Donna, you’re not making any sense here.” However, the man refused to understand the message behind her words, “Just a few weeks ago you came to me crying your fucking eyes out because you thought that Y/N caused you to have a miscarriage, and now what? You’re telling me to.. Let go? To.. Calm down?! TO. COOL. FUCKING. DOWN?” His voice was increasing in loudness with each word one by one, and Donna could barely hold herself from wincing away.

When had he become this?

Was he always like this?

What was happening to him?

Where did her Diluc go?

“Yes.” She nodded, “I am.”

The man stared at her for one second, two, three.. Time seemed to slow down while he studied her expression as if she was an animal at the zoo. They weren’t talking, but none dared to break the eye contact. One was trying to dominate the other in the disagreement by using pure intimidation. Donna wasn’t sure how successful her attempt was, but suddenly, her lover took quick steps right towards her and roughly grabbed her by the chin.

The brunette froze in place; feeling like a helpless bunny before a hungry wolf. He squeezed her flesh tight to the point that it burned. Her hiss of pain didn’t stop him, but only seemed to make the grip stronger. She would be shocked if it wouldn’t bruise later.

“Wipe that look off your fucking face.”

It felt like he could see you looking at him through Donna’s eyes.

Diluc finally let go, and almost made his lover fall down to the ground. The man quickly walked past, grabbed his coat, and headed through the hallway to the right. Soon, the loud bang that shook the whole mansion had echoed through the walls. He left. Thank god, he left. Relief washed over Donna’s psyche; her heartbeat was starting to slow down and she began to take deep breaths in and out.

She had no clue what to do anymore.

You sat in front of a chess board in your office. You carefully observed the crafted pieces before you, and hummed in thought. Eventually, you picked up the Queen and King off the board and showed them up to Marie who stood by the exit door.

“I am the King.” You announced, “And you — are the Queen. You do whatever I tell you to, and you protect me at the cost of your life. However, you are more than just a Queen — you can jump through pieces, you can go multiple times in a row, and you can engulf as many in your way as I desire.” Marie smiled, but remained silent, “And I am more than just a King, however, what I share in common with the King is that if I fall — the game will be over not just for me, but for everyone.”

“Marie?” You called out to your servant, who looked up at you with adoration. She already knew what you were going to ask, “If I told you to die for me, would you?”

“Of course, Master Y/N.”

You laughed in her face.

“If I told you to let me die. Would you?”

This time, with more hesitation, “Y-yes, Master Y/N.”

“Is that so? How adorable.” You couldn’t stop yourself from chuckling. This feeling of power over others was just as addictive as a drug. The people of this house held you in such high regard, that they would even go against Barbados himself for your sake.

Suddenly, your expression went cold, “Then you are no Queen.. Just another pawn.” Your gaze shifted once more onto the wooden figures held in your hands, “Remember this — anything and anyone can be replaced, but the King.”

You dropped the chess pieces in your palms straight onto the chess board. The pieces clacked, and flew all across the table.

Chaos..

Discord..

Malice..

Death.

Weeks were passing by, and Donna was still out of options. Now, with a further sober mind, she wasn’t sure what she was meant to propose to Diluc in order to change his mind. If only they could just run away, but they were held like hostages to their own fates — prisoners of your home. Until this day, Diluc still called it “his” mansion, but anyone who wasn’t a complete cretin knew the truth. You’ve long planted seeds, strengthen roots, and bloomed in this house. They were strangers here, no matter how hard one would look.

“Donna, did you come up with a solution?” Diluc creeped up behind her like a ghost; she didn’t even hear his steps nor sensed his presence.

“H-honey.. Can we just.. Run away from here? Maybe we’ll build a cabin in the woods where nobody will find us.. And live there.. Forever?” The woman grabbed at his shirt and pressed herself closer to his chest. She could hear his heartbeat, but it sounded cold. Distant. Like an echo.

Diluc gently took Donna by her shoulders, and pushed her away to look deep into her eyes. Those eyes were the ones of a dead man who had learned how to walk and talk, but it was easy to tell that he had long abandoned dreaming and living.

She had lost him.

This was it.

“I won’t rest until that bitch is fucking dead.”

A chill ran through Donna’s spine. She froze, and didn’t even care to chase after him as he walked off into the distance. She shouldn’t have said anything to him that day when she lost her child, she gave him an idea — that turned into an obsession. He had become a sick man. No, he had always been a sick man, it was just..

It was just..

That he loved Donna before.

But he didn’t anymore.

His love for Donna, was replaced with hatred for you, and it seemed like Diluc’s heart only had place for one person.

It was her time to let go.

And so, the brunette slowly turned herself around to go back to the guest bedroom to pack away her things and leave this cursed mansion. She had enough money to hire an adventurer to escort her to Liyue. There was no more life left for her in Mondstat, not after what she had done. Not after what Diluc was about to do.

Perhaps.. They liked flowers in Liyue as well.

You knew that he was approaching, and fast. His footsteps echoed across the hallway long before he even reached your door. You and Marie exchanged a look; already expecting what was to come. After all, the walls were quite thin within the mansion.

When Diluc flew into the room, he had resembled a beast far more than a human. There was fire in his eyes — perhaps this was the first time that he had truly looked alive since the day that he came back to you. A lost hound had returned to its owner to consume it alive. You’ve ran out of things that could saturate his hollowing hunger.

“In Fontaine, you have the right to fight for your honor with a duel.” He said while staring down at you. You sat at your work desk on a massive red velvet chair whilst playing with a pen between your fingers. Your movements stopped, and you looked up at him with a smirk.

“Is that so?” You chuckled; feeling amused, “I am saddened to disappoint you, but you do so with a dualist assigned by the Chief of Justice.”

“Either you fight me or everyone in this mansion dies.” The red-headed man threatened you, at which you couldn’t contain your laughter anymore.

“They can all die.” You shrugged, “Dying for me is an honor, Diluc.” The man rolled his eyes at your response, but didn’t give up.

“Either you fight me — or I will set the whole of Mondstat on fire.” At first, you wanted to instantly reply back — ‘You wouldn’t do that’ — but with another second of staring into his eyes you knew for sure that he had truly lost his mind. He had nothing left to stay for, “I will murder citizens, women, children.. I will cause chaos, until I am stopped. However, you are able to prevent the loss of those lives by agreeing with me right here and right now to fight for honor.” He took one step after another, and eventually placed both of his palms against the table and leaned in closer towards you, “I wouldn’t be surprised if I am not the only one in the need of honor cleansing.”

You couldn’t care less about the humans’ lives, however, if the word got out that Diluc would not have committed crimes have you agreed to a duel, but you haven’t, it would greatly affect your reputation. Damaging to your reputation, would damage your status, damaging status, would damage the business, damaging the business would damage sales, and then slowly and eventually..

You will also be left with nothing.

“A duel it is.” You stood up and straightened out your hand. With hesitance, Diluc shook it, “One of us will not see the dawn, do you agree for such a risk?”

“You don’t have to ask me twice, Y/N.”

Dueling is about recovering your honor, it was not an act of killing.

There were many important rules to a proper duel. First of all, such were not allowed in the country of Freedom and winds. Thus, it had to happen in the country of Geo and contracts, where both you and Diluc had signed the appropriate documentations which were overlooked by Lady Ningguang herself. Since both you and Diluc were considered to be individuals of high status, it applied even further complications to the whole ordeal.

You ensured that the vision from Diluc was confiscated, and that he was not allowed to use weapons he was further familiar with than you. So, the claymores and the swords were off the weapon choice. Both of you had signed for the weapon to be a loaded pistol. Your husband requested for them to not come from the production of your company, thus, also disabling any potential advantages from your side.

The day had come. Strangely enough, you did not feel nervous. You felt oddly excited.

Standing back-to-back with Diluc made you realize that it had been years since you were able to feel his warmth against your skin. It was a paralyzing feeling. This was probably the last time that you would feel it, but the idea of that brought you strange comfort.

You looked around, before you stood an audience of people, friends, and even some distant families. You could see in the center of the seating lady Ningguang together with her two most trusted servants by each of her sides. You could also see the glimpse of Master Jean, the Traveler, and even Paimon. You weren’t sure if the sights which were about to transpire were worth witnessing. There were also guards standing in each corner of the podium, ready to intervene under lady Ningguang’s orders if she thought that the duel had gotten too far.

Well, it was definitely going to get too far.

Dueling is about recovering your honor, it was not an act of killing. However, you and Diluc were gathered here today to kill one another. One of you can exist only with the death of the other. There was no loophole or another solution to this.

The loaded gun rested heavy in your palm, but you didn’t shake nor sweat. You had long abandoned fear or attachment to living.

There was a loud voice, you didn’t know what they said, but you knew what had to be done. 20 steps, and fire. 20 steps, and fire. 20 steps, and fire.

In 20 steps, your life was about to change forever.

20..

19..

Your heart was starting to squeeze, but the adrenaline rush kept you going forward. You stood proud and confident. Your chest was puffed out, and your movement never lost its grace.

18..

17..

The face of young Diluc flashed before your eyes. He used to be so happy, so full of life, and filled with passion. If only that boy had known he would grow up into such a monster.

17..

16..

You looked down at your gloves. You put on the best pair that you had. White silk with a black beautiful design stitched by hand. It also had some pearls situated at the corners of the black lines. This pair had come all the way from Inazuma, and last time you had worn them was on your wedding day.

16..

15..

The weather today was perfect. It was sunny, and it was easy to stay warm even in lighter clothes. However, the fresh breeze of a wind made you feel refreshed just how you would in winter. The sun of Mondstat, and the wind from Dragonspine, all the way in Liyue. The Archons were truly having a laugh at you.

15..

14..

You noticed that Donna was also present in the audience. She had been crying for a long time. There was a handkerchief in her palm, her eyes were swollen and puffy, her pupils surrounded by wine-red. Poor girl, you thought, but you felt no empathy. Karma would catch up with her as well, the same way how karma was catching up with you today.

14..

13..

You were trying to recall what you had for breakfast today, and couldn’t remember. Ever since you started preparing for your death, the days and nights have blended into one. You were truly in the moment — in the present — today.

13..

12..

For some reason, you wondered whether Diluc remembered the day of your birthday. Did he remember your anniversary? Did he remember the day when your parents had passed away?

12..

11..

You saw Kaeya sitting in the audience as well. He gave you a weak smile when he caught your glimpse towards him, and you couldn’t help but shake your head in irony of it all.

11..

10..

You noticed that Marrie was not present, just how she had promised. After all, you entrusted the last task to her. You knew she’d get it done. You knew that she wouldn’t get involved.

She was free.

10..

9..

You wondered what the life would have been like, if instead of running away, Diluc actually would have come to you for comfort. What if he had processed his grief, and the two of you would have moved on? Maybe you would have children by now. Perhaps, also dogs, cats and horses.

Maybe you would have been happy.

9..

8..

You saw a shadow of your parents standing right before you. Their faces were covered with a faint light glow. This made you wonder, you couldn’t quite recall how their faces had looked like. Or the sound of their voices. No, you couldn’t even remember what it felt like to have your father smile at you or what was it like for your mother to tell you bedtime stories. Those were luxuries of the past.

The dead had come to visit, as if already decided upon the fate that was about to be bestowed. There was no way around this, was there?

8..

7..

You could hear Diluc’s angry panting all the way from where he was standing. He was fuming. He was raging. He was burning from inside out from hatred and agony. He had decided that getting rid of you would put everything to a stop. That he would stop feeling like a monster was eating him alive. That he would be finally put out of his misery.

Oh, how wrong could one be.

7..

6..

You thought back to when Diluc had proposed to you for the first time. You were still just kids, and both of you had no clue that it was already decided that both of you will get married for diplomatic reasons. He had braided a stem alongside another stem of small, delicate flowers into a ring and a flower crown. He had gifted those to you, with a pure smile and a faint peach blush hovering his cheeks. You were in love.

6..

5..

You thought back to when Diluc had got his vision. At first, you were a bit jealous. After all, everyone wanted to have a vision. And knowing that both of your parents had one, however, you didn’t, always made you feel a bit petty inside. You could recall begging him to use his pyro abilities, because you wanted to see the magic, oh so badly! He asked you, which animal did you want him to make. Without any hesitation you replied, a bird!

5..

4..

You thought back to when the detectives that you have hired to investigate your husband’s disappearance first told you that they thought Diluc had passed away. Your whole world came crushing down. You felt sick right then and there. You were dizzy for weeks, the doctor’s couldn’t help you. There was one professor from Sumeru who decided to take your case and heal you from a “broken heart”.

In reality, it was a congestive heart failure. The causes were unknown. Your medications kept you stable for some time, but there wasn’t much time left.

4..

3..

You thought.. You thought.. You thought..

Almost as if time had come to a stop.

2..

1. . .

It was very sunny that day. You were a bit hungry, but felt too nervous to eat in the morning. After all, it was going to be the day that your life would change once and for all — you were going to be with your soulmate forever.

"Do you take Y/N as your lawful partner, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish until death do you part?"

The priest had asked Diluc the question, but he didn’t even need any time to think. The clear and loud “yes” had slipped past his lips even before the other could finish his sentence. The old and wise Priest smiled at the lovebirds, and the two of you sealed yourselves in a kiss — a promise.

Until death do us part.

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