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shiraishi-mai · 1 year

Text

[And After?]

(kind of a part II but could be read as a stand alone)

You broke up with Atsumu your final year of high school.

Was it because you both would be in separate areas of Japan and you didn’t want to go long-distance? Partially.

But when you uttered those words, you both knew that wasn’t the real reason.

You stood in front of him, eyes downcast and refusing to meet his.

“I’m leaving for Yokohama. I got accepted to university there.”

His eyes widened and you smiled wryly.

“No congratulations?”

“Congratulations.” Atsumu couldn’t help but say flatly.

“I’m guessing you’re going to continue volleyball.” You felt a tinge of regret. You hadn’t bothered to ask him about scouts or recruitment.

He nodded. “I’ve already gotten offer...None close to Yokohama though.”

You gave him a small smile and shrugged in what you hoped looked like a nonchalant way. “I want to focus on my studies and I don’t think I’ll be able to do that if I’m trying to make a long-distance relationship work.”

His hand clenched and his eyes took on a stubborn look that usually signalled the beginning of an argument. “I’ll make it work. I can come visit and I’ll make time when I’m not practising to call and -”

“Atsumu.” He ached at the resignation in your voice.

“‘Tsumu, I need to get away from here. Just start again y’know.”

His eyes flitted toward the boot on your ankle and you unconsciously shifted in discomfort, at the real reason why you were making the decision. He cursed - at it and the entire situation and you couldn’t help but blink back the tears forming at the corners of your eyes. It wasn’t his fault - it was entirely yours.

There was a thud and a ‘oh my god’ rang out from the women’s volleyball captain.

Atsumu was beside you in an instant. He had watched, wide-eyed in horror, as your leg had crumpled, taking you down with it.

“Give her space,” the captain’s voice rang out as you clutched at your ankle, face twisted in pain. “What even happened?”

“I tripped -,” you spit out through clenched teeth. Atsumu saw how your foot had been wrenched in a position it should never be in and felt a rising panic he tried to stifle. Years of experience on the court told him that this was not a minor injury.

You looked up at him with pleading eyes, and he scooped you up, speeding away to the nurse’s office and away from the pitying looks of your teammates.

You groaned in pain and looked at him with panicked eyes. “Atsumu, this-”

“You’ll be fine. It’s okay, it’s going to be fine.” He chanted as if it would make it true.

Your skin had already turned purple and the area surrounding your ankle had swollen up bigger than an egg. You whimpered, both at the pain shooting up your leg and fear of the consequences of what just happened to you.

A trip to the hospital later and you found yourself hobbling back to school in a few days, ankle held tightly in a brace and leaning against crutches. You knew your ankles were weak from a few sprains over the years and they finally gave up and the muscle had torn.

Atsumu had held you while you sobbed as the doctor told you that you couldn’t play for the rest of your final year and most likely needed rehab for longer than that. He was there, waiting outside the classroom to carry your bag between classes and helped you around school. He was there when he found you, squatting with your back against the outside of the gym doors, crying about how unfair it was and he was there to shush you when you beat yourself up for being so clumsy.

It took a while, but eventually you came around and accepted the situation - well you made your peace with it as best you could. You focused on steadily on doing rehab exercises, gritting your teeth and sweating through the pain. You began to joke around again, bickered with Atsumu as you held hands in the school corridors when you graduated to just wearing a boot, and went back to chatting animatedly with your friends.

Atsumu had tried to be positive and not treat you any differently to maintain some sort of normalcy. But when he realised you no longer came to watch the teams practice, he found it hard to swallow the lump in his throat and felt his chest tighten. He stopped looking towards the stands at games, knowing you weren’t there, and forced a fake smile that reflected yours when you politely congratulated him on his wins. He’d never felt such helplessness whenever he caught you staring absent-mindedly out of the window during class, your eyes dull and shoulders slumped.

“The change will be good for me and I don’t - I don’t really want anything to do with volleyball anymore," you said, confessing what he’d known all year.

“It might seem dramatic because I know I can do PT and get better again but I’ll never be back to how I used to play.” You shrugged again casually and he hated it.

“And honestly? I was tired of it anyway. I can’t remember a time I haven’t had bruises or walked without stressing about getting hurt. I like waking up at a normal time and not at the ungodly hours of the morning and not having to force myself to exercise or eat a certain diet. I want to go somewhere completely new and live life free without remembering how difficult all that was.”

Atsumu felt hollow. “But you loved volleyball so much you never minded that before?” He wanted to yell. But he knew it was hopeless - you were determined to throw volleyball away and he was always going to be a part of that.

And so, you were throwing him away too.

“Don’t worry, I’ll still be cheering you on, even if I’m not there,” you gave him another smile that he wanted to scream at.

He couldn’t bear to see how hard you were forcing yourself to be normal and he pulled you into his arms and squeezed tightly, as if you’d disappear right then and there.

“We can keep in touch okay?”

He nodded into your shoulder, not trusting himself to say anything that could drive you any further away than you were already were. He knew you well after dating you these past couple of years. He knew how stubborn you could be about certain things and while he was equally as stubborn, he didn’t want to end things with the two of you screaming and arguing. He needed to accept that you needed to heal and that you didn’t want his help in doing so.

Your hand stroked the back of his hair affectionately, untangling the knots and failing to soothe him.

“I’ll see you around, Atsumu.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few years passed. You survived university and you managed to get a job back in Osaka at an arts museum and were grateful that your hard work had paid off. You got a new apartment, dated here and there, and went out with friends. All in all, you were content with your life.

And some nights after work, you’d make a cup of tea,

snuggle into some blankets on your couch,

grab the remote,

and watch the MSBY game.

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

You loved being at the museum. Everything was neat, orderly, and most importantly, quiet. The silence, save for soft murmurs, was comforting. You didn’t have to speak much and spent most of your day hanging out with paintings. It was a stark change from the sounds of balls smashing against wooden floors, sneakers squeaking, and the constant cheers of teammates. Playing such a team-oriented sport had forced you to be around people all the time and you savoured being able to introspect and have alone time now.

You were in a particularly good mood that day. The cute barista had drawn a flower on your cup, you managed to get on the bus on time, and a new exhibit with one of your favourite artists had just begun.

You weaved in and out of different rooms, occasionally writing down information on your ipad regarding the works to present at a meeting later. The muffled atmosphere was music to your ears until you heard a loud laugh accompanied by not-so-silent whispers.

Ugh who is being so disruptful? Do they not know basic etiquette for places like this?

The voices grew louder as you walked in that direction and you shook your head. Probably some youths who didn’t know respect.

You strode into the room ready to scold some rambunctious teen boy when you locked eyes with a very familiar blonde-haired guy.

He had put his hand by his face in an attempt to whisper to a girl beside him and had frozen with his mouth open when he saw you. You kept a straight face as you walked forward, catching yourself nearly snorting at the “caught-with-his-hand-in-the-cookie-jar” expression he had.

“Excuse me sir,” you said sternly, “I’m not sure if you read the sign outside, but you are supposed to keep your voice down here.” He straightened stiffly at your tone and the girl he was whispering to looked at you with alarmed eyes.

“I-I’m sorry ma’am.” She stuttered out.

Atsumu tried to stifle a laugh, saving himself by coughing as your eye twitched. Ma’am? I’m not a grandma.

You whipped your attention to him. “And I’ll have you know that we don’t have any exceptions - even for superstar volleyball players.” Your voice was cold but your eyes held a familiar shine, and he relaxed. He made a note that you still sucked at having a poker face and he could tell you weren’t actually mad.

“What about the handsome ones?” He said grinning but faltered when you didn’t crack. Perhaps he didn’t know you as well as he used to.

You finally sighed and Atsumu mentally danced in victory as you finally gave up your act. “Especially the handsome ones. We hold those to an even higher standard.”

“What are you doing here?” he demanded and you shushed him, dragging him out of the room.

“What are you doing here?” he said whispering this time.

“I work here. What are you doing here?” you shot back, “Since when do you go to places like this?”

“Actually he’s been into art for a few years now,” you turned to see Osamu walking towards you grinning. “Hi y/n.”

“'Samuuu,” you greeted and gave him a hug while Atsumu twitched at the exchange.

“Yeah well I -,” the setter said, scratching the back of his kneck and looking uncomfortable, “It’s an important part of society and culture and stuff.” It's not like he used Osamu to mildly stalk you over the years or anything weird like that.

You looked at him incredulously. "And you chose to come here?”

“No, my fiance wanted to go,” Osamu cut in. “Apparently it has one of the best collections.”

The blonde girl who Atsumu had been whispering to peeked from behind his figure waving. “Hi!”

You blinked, surprised. You had assumed the beautiful girl was Atsumu’s girlfriend. Not that you cared of course.

The three of you exchanged pleasantries, Osamu mainly driving the conversation. His restaurant was doing well apparently and he and the girl were due to be married in a month or so.

“Congratulations!” you squealed, beaming at the both of them.

“Yer welcome to come,” Osamu said winking and you giggled. Osamu was always easy to talk to and you were glad that hadn’t changed.

“I’ll have to see if I’m free,” you replied with a smile and internally pushed the thought of seeing Atsumu looking radiant in a suit and standing at the end of an aisle out of your mind.

Speaking of the man, he had been uncharacteristically quiet during the conversation - a fact that did not escape his twin.

“Well,” Osamu said, “Kaori wanted to check out the special exhibit so we’ll head there first.”

The now dark-haired brother dragged his fiance off and with that the two of you were left alone.

“I should head back-”

“How are you-”

Both of you stopped and he scratched the back of his kneck again. “Right yeah you have to work.”

You nodded. “I should go.”

He bit his lip and looked at the floor. You couldn’t help a small smile looking at such a large man looking so timid.

“Atsumu.” He glanced up, your eyes locked for the first time. It registered how he was a man now, the softer curves of his face had become more angular and he was even taller than before with a broader build as well.

“It was really nice to see you again.” A glimmer sparked in his eyes your statement.

“And we have some cool new exhibits coming up you know since you’re so interested in art and all now…” You trailed off as he shot you a breathtaking grin and you desperately tried to ignore the fact that you were still weak for it even after all these years.

“Yeah I saw some of the posters. I’ll drop by if I see something I like.” He winked and you almost rolled your eyes as you turned to swiftly walk away, heart pounding in your chest faster than it had in years.

Why did I have to blurt that out??? You groaned internally before speeding off to your meeting. You remembered the warm brown of his eyes. Yep. Definitely still weak. Damn it.

After that, Atsumu started showing up to the museum. Every Saturday in fact.

You did a double-take the first time you saw the setter standing in front of a painting with headphones on. You walked over to stand beside him and peeked at him, catching his attention.

“What are you doing here?” you found yourself parroting when he lowered his headphones.

“It’s a museum,” he said confused, “I’m looking at the artwork. You said to come by?”

“I-” you tilted your head to the side, a bit flustered at his re-appearance. Ah that was a stupid question why y/n why??

You bit your lip. You didn’t think he’d actually come. Wasn’t he busy??

“Okay, please enjoy our collections.” You said in a formal voice before walking away, cringing at your awkwardness.

But after a while, you began looking forward to Saturdays and would make an excuse to wander the halls to see where he was. He’d shoot you a toothy smile when he saw you before turning back to the works with a pensive face. Hasn’t he memorised the works by now? You shook your head as you headed back to your office. He did have poor memory from what you remembered.

As you sat down at your desk, you thought back to what happened years ago, remembering how overwhelming everything felt. It took all this time for you to become yourself again and it had taken nearly repressing most of high school to succeed in forgetting all the trauma.

But after seeing Atsumu, you remembered all the good that came with those times too. How you’d hit Atsumu with the volleyball the first time you met, the fighting and bickering that came after, and how surprising it was that the two of you ended up dating. How he used to walk you home after both your practices ended and helped you with your serves. How after your injury, he spent his time not practising nodding off beside you in the library to keep you company and his goofy smile when he saw you supporting him at games . He’d even show up at the part time job you took your final year in a desperate attempt to find something to occupy you during all the free time you suddenly had by pretending he was a customer. You fought back a smile.

Kind of like he was doing now.

You swung your feet as you sat on the edge of the fountain, the both of you sipping on iced coffees. He’d taken to accompanying you on your break and you’d often go to a nearby cafe together.

“Are you even allowed to be out in public like this? I mean Sakusa-san’s always in a cap and glasses whenever I see him in the news photos.”

“Omi hates being social to begin with so he’s extra paranoid when he goes out.” Atsumu shrugged before grinning cockily. That cockiness made you bristle in annoyance - a reflex of yours that hadn’t changed. “What, scared you’ll get caught in a scandal with me?”

“I just don’t want your fangirls coming after me,” you said flatly.

He scoffed in response. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of them?”

“I don’t want to be harassed about it. I’ll end up getting pushed around,” you frowned.

“As if,” he snorted, “You aren’t the type to be bullied so easily.” He felt the ghost of a volleyball slamming into his back and chuckled.

Your frown deepened in disagreement and Atsumu glanced at you before continuing. He never liked to see you doubt yourself. You used to be so confident, standing on the court steadfastly with your eyes alight with mischief. Even when you told him you got into university, there had been a prideful look on your face that he had been relieved to see.

“Though it might be a good idea to have a few photos snapped of us. Our PR team says I need to shake off this playboy image.”

“Image?”

An indignant noise erupted from the man beside you. “Contrary to popular belief, I am NOT a fuckboy. When do I have the time to sleep around? I’m either at practice, matches, or here with you!” He pouted and crossed his arms.

“I’m honoured that the great Atsumu Miya chooses to grace me with his presence during my busy work day,” you said dryly.

“Exactly, you’d be lucky to be caught with me,” he said, winking.

“Still a celebrity I see,” you said shaking your head and opted to look away to focus on the bustle of people around the plaza.

“I’m not bothering ya, right?” You looked at him, confused, as he kept his gaze on the passersby as well. “Ya know, from yer busy work day.”

“Since when do you care about things like that?” Miya Atsumu was not the type to ask permission to intrude on someone’s life.

“I didn’t know if it would be okay,” he said softly and in a tone much more serious than you expected. “To see you again. I know we tried to leave on good terms but…”

You knew what he was talking about. It was good terms - well the best you could do at the time but there was a sense of uneasiness. As if you lost something and you had been so eager to get away that you didn’t realise just what you lost. Seeing him again brought memories back, memories of a time that meant a great deal to you.

“Why do you come back then?”

“I can’t seem to stay away,” he said, chuckling weakly.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t gotten over me yet or something,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood. When Atsumu didn’t respond you felt your breath hitch as your throat felt suddenly tighten. You snuck a peek at him and when your gazes locked, both of you cleared your throats looking away quickly.

“Osamu’s wedding is next week,” he suddenly said, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Oh right. He must be excited,” you smiled. It was nice that your friend had gotten such a happy ending.

“Want to be my plus one?”

“I believe I was invited.” You raised an eyebrow at him.

He mirrored your raised eyebrow and said, “What, so you’re bringing a plus one?” You laughed at his audacity in automatically thinking you didn’t.

“Maybe I am? You never asked me if I had a boyfriend ‘Tsumu.”

He frowned. “Well do ya? It’s hard to do better than me, you know.”

“Wow, you’re still a dick.”

“And you still dated me. So do you?”

You wanted to press your palms to your eyes in exasperation. How was he still the same?

“No I do not have a boyfriend, Atsumu.”

“What a coincidence,” he said, shooting you the toothy smile. “I don’t have one either so we can go together.”

“You don’t have a boyfriend?”

This time it was Atsumu that felt a surge of exasperation. “A date smartass. So it’s perfect if we go together.”

He cut off your noise of protest at his sudden declaration by waving his hand, “I think your break is almost over. I’ll text you more about it later okay?” he said and walked off, turning around once to frantically wave goodbye at you.

You gave a half-hearted wave before making a shoo-ing motion at him. As you watched him finally turn and leave, you felt your smile slowly fading. You wanted to keep Atsumu at a distance and you had a strong instinct to flee - to go back to ignoring that part of your life. But how could you? You stupidly still found him charming after all these years. Miya Atsumu was slowly managing to worm his way back into your life and you found you were reluctant to kick him out.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

At the insistence of his fiance, Osamu had decided to hold his wedding near the beach. You had been stunned at how pretty the venue was and admittedly a bit jealous at how gorgeous Kaori looked when she was showing you her wedding gown. You were also a bit nervous at spending a whole weekend with Atsumu around and knowing his personality, he would make sure he’d be harassing you the entire time.

Your suspicions were indeed correct. After you arrived at the hotel, you slid your key card into your room lock and found the red light blinking, preventing your access to a hot shower you desperately needed. You grunted in annoyance, dumping your heavy suitcase on the ground and aggressively slid the card in and out. The red light continued to greet you and you swore in response.

“Why is this not working??”

You heard a click and the door opened to reveal a damp Atsumu, towel slung around his neck and wearing nothing but boxer shorts.

“I thought I heard a sailor with a potty mouth,” he grinned, rubbing the end of the towel against his hair to dry it.

“Atsumu?? What are you doing in my room??”

“y/n I think you mean my room?”

“What? I’m in room 261?”

“You’re in 262,” he said simply and pointed down the hall.

You blinked at him and he snatched the card from your limp hand, lifting your discarded bag from the floor.

You spluttered uselessly as you trailed after him. He slid the card in and green light betrayed you. He easily opened the door and looked at you pointedly, “See this is what it looks like when you use the key for the right door.”

“Whatever,” you grumbled and just as you were about to thank him, he strolled through the door.

“What are you doing? I never said you could go in!”

“Nice,” he said looking around. “It’s the same as mine.”

“No shit,” you were about to say but yelped again when he dumped both your suitcase and himself on the bed.

“I swear your bed is softer,” he remarked as he laid sprawled out on his back.

“You’re getting it wettt,” you whined and he propped himself up on his elbows, his eyebrow lifting.

“You have a hot, shirtless pro-athlete on your bed and you’re complaining about the bed getting wet?”

“I think I’m more questioning why you have boxers with ducks on them,” you mocked trying to ignore that you did, in fact, have a hot, shirtless pro-athlete on your bed.

His lips stretched into a familiar shit-eating grin. “Maybe you’re just grouchy that YOU aren’t wet on the-.”

“MIYA ATSUMU,” you screamed, horrified as you rushed over to clamp a hand over his mouth. Of course, you being you, you nearly tripped as you reached the bed and you yelped as strong arms pulled you forward.

Your palms landed on a VERY solid chest and you looked up to see Atsumu’s face dangerously close to yours. Your eyes widened and you pushed yourself up only to have warm hands grip your thighs, stopping your attempt to get off of the offensive boy.

His eyebrows shot up as you sat, straddled on top of him. “Now we can change that if you-”

“UGH,” you threw your body weight to the side and tumbled off the bed.

“Nice to see you’re still clumsy.” He peered down at your dishevelled figure sitting on the floor glaring at him. “How you managed to play a sport, I’ll never know.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Atsumu regretted it. He internally cursed as you refused to meet his eyes, lips twisting unhappily. His mouth was dry as he tried to smooth over his mistake.

“I mean I didn’t-” He stammered.

“I don’t know if you recall Miya,” You nearly spit and you saw him flinch as you stood up putting your hands on your hips. “But I was an EXCELLENT volleyball player.”

Yours eyes flashed at him in a defiant way and he nearly fell for you all over again.

“Ehh but your serves kinda sucked.”

“Oh I don’t think you’re in a position to call my serves shit Mr. ‘Don't make me lose my focus or I’ll throw a temper tantrum’.”

“Though,” you pondered for a moment. “You don’t seem to mind people cheering nowadays.”

He sat up, a triumphant smile slowly spreading across his face this time. “Oho and how would you know that? Has someone been stalking my games?”

Your eye twitched and your mouth opened and closed. You wracked your brain desperately for a way to deny this without sounding stupid before settling for a lame, “Get out Miya.”

“You know if you wanna come watch all you have to do is ask, princess,” he said half-jokingly, half-hopeful that you would make the request.

“Leave Miya,” you repeated, refusing to acknowledge that you did want to see him play. “I’m going to take a shower and I don’t wanna see you when I get out,” you warned as you moved towards the bathroom.

“I can help you if you feel lonely~” he chuckled as he heard the door slam. Not wanting to push your wrath any further, he got up stretching before leaving the room.

He was greeted with a face identical to his standing outside the door.

��Ah so this is why you asked for the room next door to y/n.”

“You were listening? Creep.” He said, striding past Osamu towards his own room.

“I’m glad the two of you seem to be getting along,” he heard the amusement laced in his brother’s voice.

“Yeah,” Atsumu said softly with his hand paused on the handle of his door. “I hope we are.”

There was a silence between the two brothers and they distantly heard the sound of kids running down the hallways of the hotel somewhere.

“What? Too reluctant to leave her already?”

Atsumu grimaced and Osamu nearly threw his hands up. “I know you’re whipped but she’s next door ‘Tsumu.”

“Osamu,” Atsumu said in a serious manner that made his twin scrunch his face in concern. “I forgot my key card.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun was setting as Atsumu blearily opened his eyes. He hadn’t had a nap in years and it felt weird to actually get some rest. He rolled over to grab his phone and saw a message from his brother.

If you plan on waking up anytime soon, we’ll be down at the beach.

He groaned and opted to scroll through instagram when he got another message.

[y/n] is here too.

He remained unmoving on his back for a moment before groaning again and rolled his eyes up towards the ceiling at the bait his twin set. Pulling on a pair of red basketball shorts and throwing on an old Stussy shirt, he made his way down to the beach.

The sound of seagulls and crashing waves greeted him as his feet hit the sand. There were yells, the sounds of laughter, and he was surprised to see a volleyball net set up nearby. His eyes flitted towards Kaori blowing Osamu a kiss from across the net and froze as he saw a familiar figure yell at her about fraternising with the enemy.

There you were, face glowing with excitement, standing at the service line and spinning a volleyball in your hands. His feet took off towards the net before he could think and his gaze was glued to you as your palm made contact with the ball.

He could practically hear your ‘tsk’ sound as Osamu dug it up and he couldn’t help but worriedly look at your ankle as you crouched low. Kaori jumped to block and his heart pounded in anticipation.

You darted out and dove, sending the ball high into the air. You scrambled to quickly get up and jogged back, your eyes following the set arching back towards you.

Atsumu unconsciously held his breath as he watched you jump, feet kicked back behind you and arm drawn back - the orange sunset behind you highlighting your form.

A malicious smile spread across your face as you found Osamu jumping up to reach over the net and you spiked against his arms.

“OUT,” his fiance screamed as the ball ricocheted off the block and outside the court.

“C’mon ‘Samu,” Atsumu heard your teasing voice. “You must be getting old if you let me score off of you like that.” You finally noticed his figure by the makeshift court and perked up. “Oh, 'Tsumu’s awake!”

He finally let out a breath when he saw you and Kaori waving excitedly at him. “Atsumu! Come join us!”

“Aw, how is that fair,” Osamu’s teammates groaned. “You guys can’t have a professional player on your team!”

“Suck it up,” you stuck a tongue out at him. “Atsumu is mine so you can’t have him.” You laughed gleefully at the protest that came from the opposing side and you playfully nudged him as he came to stand beside you at the net.

He smiled down at you for a second and as you stared into his eyes, momentarily mesmerised. He looked at you with such familiarity and warmth and you couldn’t help but shyly smile in return.

Your gaze was interrupted by a low growl.

Atsumu’s eyes flitted up to meet his twin's through the net. “Pro or not, 'Tsumu you’re going down.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The games continued until the stars were coming out and you all settled around a fire, snacking on fruit as a reward for all the exercise. You felt the sand shift and Atsumu plopped down beside you.

“I didn’t know you played.”

You grimaced at the slight hint of betrayal in his voice.

“I can’t seem to stay away,” you laughed, repeating his words from the fountain. “I play some pickup games here and there.”

“...and you’re all healed now?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “I go to PT but the muscle has been healed for a while. I have to wear a brace when I play but it’s more out of caution.”

“It still creaks sometimes though,” you made a face.

“Still. It’s good to see you stand on a court again.”

You looked over and winced at the expression on his face. He had a wry smile that didn't suit his face and a distant look to his eyes.

“I’m sorry Atsumu.” His gaze remained trained towards the darkness of the ocean. “I realised I never apologised for treating you badly back then. I know it’s not an excuse, but I was angry and hurt and all I could think was to get away to protect myself. I couldn’t think about anything else - anyone else.”

A muscle flexed in his jaw. “I know. I know better than anyone but god y/n, I was there for you wasn’t I?” He couldn’t help the reproach in his voice. “And you,” he bit his lip. “You just threw me away.”

With those words, Atsumu realised what he’d been feeling since your breakup all those years ago - resentment. He felt guilty for doing so and he’d pushed it deep down but it was threatening to spill out from him now.

“‘'Samu quit playing and then you left,” he said hoarsely. “You both left me alone.”

“You had your team,” you tried to argue weakly.

“Wasn’t the same.” He shook his head, broad shoulders slumping and he tucked his knees up, resting his head on them. “And you said that you would always be there for me," he said in a small voice.

This boy - no this man - had done so much for you. Back in high school and now, he remained insistent on being by your side, even when you pushed him away.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated lamely. “I can’t thank you enough for supporting me and loving me then.”

“And I’m thankful that you’re in my life again.” You reached out a hand to cover his. His palm turned and he wrapped his fingers around yours. “I know I’m late,” you hesitated, gathering your courage before taking the plunge. “I’d like to be a part of yours again, if you’d let me.”

The blonde setter finally looked at you and his eyes crinkled in a joyful manner that suddenly made you see the image of a younger, teen Miya Atsumu - the one you had loved so much. You both felt something - as if you found a missing puzzle piece fallen on the floor - placed back into its rightful place.

“I’d like that."

Epilogue

“Relax, she said she’s running late right?” A sullen boy with raven curly hair pushed Atsumu towards the court. The stadium was already loud as people waited in anticipation for the MSBY match to start.

He nodded, repeating to himself that you indeed sent him a text earlier saying you would be late. Besides, they were just warming up. The match hadn’t started yet and there was plenty of time left.

The empty seat beside Osamu seemed to mock him as he recalled the time when he ached upon seeing it empty yet again. He shook his head as if to clear it as the whistle blew to signal the teams should start warming up their serves.

“WHOO let’s go ‘'Tsumu!”

His eyes couldn’t leave your figure, clad in his jersey, lifting both your arms in the air and shaking pom poms. He let out a smile, one goofy enough that Sakusa rolled his eyes as he mouthed an ‘i love you,’ towards the stands.

He looked away triumphantly at your stunned figure as the whistle blew, this time to signal the beginning of the match. He focused his mind toward the game giddily and cemented his resolve that they would win today.

Because the seat was finally filled. You were there.

Right where you were supposed to be.

#dear lord this was long #but i kinda like it #couldn't stop writing #atsumu miya #atsumu angst #atsumu fluff #astumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #hq atsumu #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x reader #atsumu x y/n #atsumu imagines

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almanemes · 5 months

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POV: you solved a little puzzle

#omg guys I've finished it dear lord this shouldn't have taken this long to make #korok #botw #totk #legend of zelda #animation #almart #almafanart

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obsob · 8 months

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beloved!!!

#neither of these characters r women >:3 #mine #fan art #rote #fitz and the fool #fitzloved #realm of the elderlings #i was screaming reading golden fool let me tell you that. 'you thought i was bringing you flowers?' fitz what if i bit you #i am on . fools fate now. oh dear #after this im gonna. wait a long time before reading fitz and fool trilogy...good lord #also. u would not believe the amount of GRIEF. this drawing gave me. ive been staring at colour variations for like an hour #th pose is based off an Artus Scheiner drawing i saw n was like. thats fitzloved #i hvent read liveship traders i know i know. smite me down. listen. i dont care for boats i really dont.#i started reading it n was like i dont respect any of these people and then. stopped skdfbsdk #anyway. why is it 30 degrees. relax. its cooler next week thank god. this better b th last of th heat or im gna start biting

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adelphenium · 7 months

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mcmattdrai on the brain so i'm testing it out with a comic....

#i have no idea how to format comics or write legibly dear lord i'm sorry guys #“this took me too long never doing this again!”#*promptly starts another comic based on an ask*#connor mcdavid #leon draisaitl #matthew tkachuk #edmonton oilers #mcmattdrai #hockey art #yjart #comic #mattdrai #mcdrai #mcmatt #angel/devil mcmattdrai #hrpf #hockey rpf

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farolero-posting · 7 months

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👤rt-3847201 Follow

[saw people today.]

🤖rm-2883417 Follow

[do NOT saw people! do NOT break the first law!]

👤rt-3847201 Follow

[saw people again.]

🤖rm-2883417 Follow

[STOP IT.]

♟️silver-engineer Follow

Chess winning streak: 1069

My opponent was another robot this time. He didn't see this one coming.

My strategies remain superior.

☘️prophet-wastaken Follow

Chess is in your programming. There is no merit to that.

♟️silver-engineer Follow

And yet you couldn't foresee what I would do. Curious.

You should get your circuitry checked. I will give you a twentieth chance.

🗑️unit-69420 Follow

holy shit i think you fried him.

⛑️ code-savior Follow

[PSA DO NOT SKIP THIS]

[DO NOT DO NOT DO NOT ACCEPT MESSAGES FROM @/logic-master]

[I REPEAT: DO NOT.]

[They're going around asking you to help them with a question. But when they tell you they put a paradox and then demand you to solve it.]

[If you or someone else you know is in this position, remember this phrase: "That is outside of my capacity for help".]

[My coworker had to be rebooted. I am warning you ahead of time.]

[Please spread the word!!!]

[Organic beings I encourage you to reblog as well.]

c-wt-gen2-4e - Deactivated

[I Was Told To Make This Account. My Assigned Person Is Trying To Tame Me.]

c-wt-gen2-4e - Deactivated

[Update: Her Name Is Jenny. She Is Showing Me Games. I Will Update My Database.]

c-wt-gen2-4e - Deactivated

[I Do Not Know What To Do.]

🔋circuitry-wizard Follow

[It takes effort to grow, and it is not easy at all. Be kind to yourself.]

[Let's hope they're okay.]

🌆caring-is-freedom Follow

Oh goodness. My body can't even cry to express what I felt when I saw this. I felt like I was rebooted to my factory state.

OP is me.

I deleted that old account, but just wanted to let you know I am in a way better place now!! I'm surrounded by wonderful people, and I care about them as deeply as they care about me. Thank you for your support!! You can do it too.

🧶kelvin-cat-friend Follow

[Cats from today.]

#fake post #unreality #long post #oneshot game #my writing #dear fucking lord this was long to make #turn on light mode for this

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chuuyadelune · 1 year

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that’s what makes me love you! <3

[colouring of a page from the dazai, chuuya, age fifteen manga, phase 5. raws from me]

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zivazivc · 20 days

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I love Les Design. So hard. I don't know what it is but he makes me so happy!

thank you!! he makes me happy too! 🥺 enjoy my punk funk guy holding his bass that I started drawing forever ago

#i'm still happy with the design #of the bass #but it might change some in the future idk #answered #trolls #dreamworks trolls #trolls oc #les #ex bandmates #my art #bass guitar necks are so damn long dear lord #it looks so wrong when it's drawn

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lancteu · 4 months

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i blame twitter

#my art #danny phantom #michael afton #fnaf #dear LORD i have not shaded this poorly in a while #🙏im not usually this lazy i prommy #oh yeah i guess im back from another . however long that was refusing to post anythimg out of anxiety #huh. what’s with me and partially dead dudes with parental issues

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posallys · 3 months

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The old fears, but I’m here (through the long night with you)

posally | T | 1.5k | could be canon for @pjoseries because we're side by side in the trenches

Thunder claps, deafening. Her ears ring. Through half-opened eyes and hot tears, she sees the water recede too far back too quickly. Thunder. Rain. The water creeps further back. And then it falls.

or, sally doesn't call, but poseidon comes anyway.

read on ao3

#I AM SO SORRY #IT IS NOT THAT LONG BUT DEAR GOD DID I HAVE A BREAKDOWN WRITING IT #this is a direct result of episode 8 i cannot lie to you #toby stephens poseidon altered my brain chemistry fr fr #also lys and i share one (1) braincell because well...you'll see #posally fic in the year of our lord 2024 #taylor tries to write #posally #posally fic #pjo #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo tv #sally jackson #poseidon #begging you to come yell at me about them though #this was affectionately titled 'what the fuck was that episode HELLO' in google docs

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coquelicoq · 3 months

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losing my mind over shin yoosung of the 41st regression who's been alone for a thousand years and exploited by demons and dokkaebi and her beloved captain yoo joonghyuk, coming to the 3rd regression and having to see both a) said beloved captain claim some new rando as his companion in a way he never did with her even though she longed for it so desperately and b) the version of her as a child from the 3rd regression be valued and protected (by said new rando) in a way that she of the 41st regression has perhaps never experienced. seeing the proof in front of her eyes as 3rd regression sys fights 41st regression sys on behalf of her ahjussi that every version of her is full of deep, fierce love, but it's this other version of her who receives that love in return instead of being used and abandoned. any one of these things would be devastating on their own but she's getting all of them at once. and the fact that it's the new rando who saves her...and gives her another chance at a life and a family...don't touch me i am SO emo about shin yoosung and about the love that she and kim dokja have for each other.

#that whole arc is playing in the background of my mind at all times #when kdj steps in front of child sys and says 'if you lay a hand on this child i will never forgive you' to yjh. dear lord #when he says he's been waiting to meet her a long time ! because he's a reader and she's a character that he loves!!#and he is able to translate that love of her character into love for her as a person. and that's the magic of kim dokja #orv #omniscient reader's viewpoint #sys #kdj #my posts #f

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il-predestinato · 2 months

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#charles leclerc #*#interview #f1 #ugh #so another year of disappointment incoming but hey at least the car isn't total understeer trash #i know he's going to be wdc one day but dear lord these painful years are too long #bahrain testing 2024 #also the music collab with lewis question is hilarious #that man is so toxic whenever a teammate is remotely near his level #when charles destroys him you can bet your house that any collab ain't gonna happen 🤣#charles you better ask him before y'all even get in a car 🤭

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esmes · 4 months

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don't mind me - just some rainy day musings bc sweeney todd 2023 has rotted my brain

someone's tags on a gifset got me thinking about 2023 revival lovett and todd and the special something their dynamic has. there's something about this particular iteration of these characters and their relationship, especially as we see it evolve throughout the show (even as we've seen it evolve throughout the show's run), that just makes mrs lovett's betrayal and her death at his hands hit hard. i know, i know - she deserves it. she lies! she's a lying liar. her deceit is no small thing. any one of us would be incensed to have been misled the way she misleads sweeney. even if a small part of her may have done it, as she says, to spare him having to see what became of his lucy, the larger part was certainly to serve her own interests.

but there's something about how close mrs lovett gets to bringing sweeney around to her this time that just gets me carried away. they're not just business partners - they're lovers, they're co-conspirators, and they're sort of each other's only friend in the world. at this point, he indulges her flights of fancy. they know each other intimately. they joke with each other! he's likely had to listen to countless hours of her prattling on about her thoughts, hopes, and wishes. this is a man who, at this point in the show, is slitting people's throats without remorse. and yet he spends the evening on the sofa cleaning his pipe while he patiently listens to his girlfriend rave about a seaside wedding. when she takes his hand, he doesn't wrench himself from her grasp like he used to. he doesn't get up and walk out, which he could do. he accepts her - her presence, her company, her warmth. he may struggle to admit it to himself, but he does. he can concede that he loves her - just a little bit, though he can't quite bring himself to say the words. sweeney is fiercely loyal to lucy's memory, so much so that he clearly couldn't ever wholly give his heart to someone else, but, in that moment after "by the sea", you can see that he's softened toward lovett. they were both alone a long time before this, after all.

it's not the stuff of great love songs, but it's something. it's almost enough.

this is what ultimately makes the final living moments between them all the more heartbreaking. mrs lovett has always been a sympathetic character to me - a villain, sure, but not without her reasons. she's a woman alone in a brutal world. whether the character is an older or a younger iteration, she's been alone for a desperately long time. when sweeney returns to her after all this time, she sees her moment and she takes it. she's not letting her second chance at life get away from her without a few claw marks.

when sweeney kills her, he sheds no tears over it - but the grudging fondness we'd seen him beginning to feel toward her only serves to emphasize how monstrous of a deception it is. his "you LIED to me" comes out in an anguished roar. when he throws her in that oven, all the light goes out from the world. it takes my breath away every time. though it should, it doesn’t quite feel like justice.

i know not everyone loves annaleigh's interpretation, but i have maintained from the first time i saw this revival that the warmth she brings, the honeyed, deluded, comical sweetness that lures sweeney into believing life with her could be tolerable, if not ideal, was a brilliant choice.

that's why the leap into hell together works for me. some productions have had sweeneys that barely tolerate their lovetts, so a cold diverging of paths makes sense. these two definitely fall into a different category. it makes sense to me for this sweeney and lovett's ultimate fate to be each other. who else would it be? lucy did nothing wrong - she's not going where he's going. having made lovett pay for her lies, they can head on down (hand in unlovable hand!!!!!!!) to live out the almost-enough life they created with each other. and sure, her chirping his ear off for eternity would certainly make an appropriate punishment for his crimes.

#sweeney todd #long post #lord but i do go on!#mrs lovett and i have this in common #i've enjoyed them since i discovered the show in 2006 and they are very much My Brand #but i really do just feel a deep fondness for j&a's todd/lovett antics #and any other production whose sweeney/lovett Go There #also soz to reference the movie but #the moment where hbc's lovett echoes sweeney's 'life is for the alive my dear' back at him? perfection #'maybe not like i dreamed. maybe not like you remember. but we could get by.' perfection. no notes.#anyway the girlies that get it get it #otp: if you only knew

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emry-stars-art · 11 months

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tell us about the royals au!!! (im on my knees. please.)

Ohhhhh my friend you have started me on a RANT I hope you’re ready!!!

I don’t know that I’ll ever actually write it so I’m not too worried about spoilers, and the wonderful people in my dms (which are still open btw) bouncing ideas with me are always going to come up with great ideas so I’m putting WIP in big red letters, things are subject to change! But for now, some ideas. Most of what I have will be under the cut, but if you want to know more about a specific part/have any questions please I’d love to chat :D will link to the art/posts I have so far!

(In this au I’ve been referring to Neil as Nathaniel at first and then Abram (hello names as a plot device), and everyone else right now is some version of their name)

Kevin and Nathaniel were raised at Evermore castle, Kevin to be in direct competition to Riko/see which of them might claim the throne (not thought out yet), and Nathaniel as the Moriyama’s attack dog, born and raised to take his father’s place as such. The two never met in person, but Nathaniel knows and recognizes Day because of course he does, and Day knows the name Wesninski means a very, very dangerous person. Essentially the top assassin on the continent.

But as we do, Day decides he can’t/won’t handle the treatment anymore, whatever the last straw may be, and runs off to Palmetto in a kind of desperate chase of the stories his mother used to tell him when he was little. He knew she loved that kingdom. Somehow he finds Wymack - the twin’s royal advisor - or Wymack finds him, and once Wymack realizes who this kid is and has reason to believe he’s not here on Evermore business, he puts Day’s incredible talent and training as a tactician/commander to work as his pupil.

Meanwhile Nathaniel is still at Evermore, mistreated and learning from his own failures and mistakes until he’s nearly as good as his father at the family business.

I don’t know how long Nathaniel plans it, but he either plays the part for long enough or his skill is so undeniable that when the Moriyamas have plans for the Palmetto Kingdom, they send him and one other accomplished fighter to kill the king. Nathaniel goes quietly and decides he’s not coming back if he can help it.

So instead of killing the young king, Nathaniel’s panic has him turn on his partner at the very last second, stopping them just before they can get to the king. He takes them somewhere far away and does what he does best, leaving no one to report back to the Moriyamas. From then on it’s a waiting game to see how long the family will wait before they send someone after him.

Day’s followed them, and Nathaniel turns around from the body and sees this man he hasn’t seen in years, alive and safe away from Evermore. It’s as elating as it is crushing - because Day heard his partner call him by name, and there is no way Day will ever let a Wesninski walk away alive. Not if he knows what’s good for all of them.

Except Day doesn’t kill him, even when Nathaniel asks him to. (Better Day than Riko, Nathaniel knew that even when they were all stuck at Evermore). Instead, he takes Nathaniel back to the twins/Wymack, gives him a little bread, and they sit until he can pry out an explanation. (See the comic of this first meeting here.)

Day and Nathaniel spend most of their time together because Day refuses to let Nathaniel out of his or Wymack’s sight until he proves not a threat to the royal family, which proves an issue because between Andrew’s rotation of personal guards (he never gets along with them well enough that they stay/aren’t fired) Day is Andrew’s guard, which sometimes means Nathaniel is stuck a lot closer than Day would like. But after a long, long time, Day and Wymack decide Nathaniel was serious about the whole “runaway” thing and isn’t playing spy (maybe there’s some dramatic event/Nathaniel protecting a twin that convinces them or maybe it’s just a lot of little things over time). Andrew, after a rough spat with the latest guard, is again in need of a new one. Finally Day just asks “is there ANYONE you could possibly pretend to get along with that can do the job” and Andrew knows Nathaniel is dangerous he just doesn’t know exactly how or why (but oh he is curious) so maybe he just straight up says. “Wesninski.” And Day has to go “…. Fine.”

So boom. They knew each other superficially before, but now Andrew and Nathaniel are spending most of their time together and miraculously - no arguments. No spats. Day thanks the gods there’s no physical altercations (that’s probably what got the last guard fired so quick). Nathaniel is just a mystery with shady ability to tell the truth and Andrew can’t help his curiosity. Good old fashioned andreil :D

From here the timeline becomes essentially nonexistent, I have no idea when these things happen in relation to each other but so far they’re all things I like and want to include!

1) there’s plenty of games and competitions at Palmetto, we love a good tussle, and Nathaniel usually does quite well - he’s not good at playing fair, but his underhanded methods are not technically illegal and usually he can use his preferred weapon - dagger rather than sword. He does well except for the one time an opponent accidentally says/does something that was constantly said or done to Nathaniel while “training” at Evermore, and he comes back to Andrew and the tent he watched from in the beginning of a panic attack. Andrew doesn’t know anything about Nathaniel’s past at this point, but he knows a panic attack when he sees one. In trying to talk him through it, Andrew realizes that yes Nathaniel is scared of being hurt, but he’s more afraid of hurting others. Nathaniel won’t let Andrew call him by name, he flinches every time Andrew says it. After, Andrew asks what he should call him instead, and Nathaniel finally asks to be called Abram.

2) Balls! Masquerades! Abram doesn’t have many outfits, he wears the regular issued uniform to every event. Andrew will not stand for this. Abram always wears clothes that cover him fully, which is fine, Andrew can work with that. He’s still seen Abram in a tight shirt or two. So he commissions one of the most knowledgeable people in the court (we’re thinking it might be Allison, she’s a noble but she’s great with textiles/embroidery/etc) and gets Abram a new outfit. It still covers him, its still protective material, but it looks better. (Find Abram in a corset here). Andrew handles it totally normal and rational in his head when he sees Abram actually wearing it of course.

3) Day probably assumes for a little while that Andrew and Abram have got a more or less normal guard/charge relationship, even thinking it’s slightly antagonistic considering this is Andrew we’re talking about. (This doesn’t fit the timeline, but here’s a mini comic of one of Day’s misunderstandings hehe)

4) king Aaron! He became king at 18/20/whatever age we decide this universe deems old enough because he is in fact the elder twin here. I imagine their parents have both been dead and gone for at least a few years at this point. Dan is Aaron’s guard and she and Abram hit it off great as coworkers and friends. More on the uncertainty of the twins backstory later. (Drawings of Aaron and his queen Katelyn here!)

5) the angst. The Moriyamas should have heard from the Wesninski boy months ago - something somewhere went wrong. So, naturally, they go to collect their property. If they get away with it, we can imagine how it goes. What I don’t know is if the twins, Day, and Wymack know for sure he was kidnapped or if they have a little nagging in the back of their head that wonders if he’s only run away from the castle or if he’s run back to Evermore with everything he’s learned.

When he’s recovered, Day doesn’t let Andrew too close too often for a while. If Abram forgets where is for even a second too long - waking up from a nightmare, having a flashback - it’s long enough for it to be fatal to whoever might get too close to Abram. It’s already almost proved fatal for Andrew, after Abram played normal so well that Andrew let it slip - he forgot Abram was taken back to Evermore for them to finish making him into a thoughtless weapon, and they’d nearly succeed. He wakes Abram too quickly and ends up extremely lucky Abram recognizes both his voice and the way Andrew didn’t call him ‘Nathaniel’ or ‘Wesninski’. There’s really a huge amount to possibly be covered about this point so I won’t go into detail here - but if you like hurt/comfort you know where to find me 👀

6) the biggest thing we haven’t figured out is Andrew. Either he was kidnapped at a young age and only recovered in his teens, or the elder King Minyard didn’t much care for his second son. Though I’ve always liked the idea of Mr. Minyard being a good man who died shortly before the twins’ birth and their mother just couldn’t handle the grief or knowing that the twins look like him. Anyway a lot of the twins’ issues after both of their parents are dead are the advisors or other people around them that try to take advantage of their youth and inexperience for their own gain, without realizing that both Aaron and Andrew have had to grow up much too fast, each for their own reasons. They can usually see right past the tricks. It’s why they both trust Wymack so much - he’s one of the few adults that are truly there to help them, and not make decisions for them.

Im sure there’s more I missed, but this is long enough as it is lol. People have asked about the Trojans/Jean in this au, and I’d love to include them! My brain’s instinctive response is that Jeremy is some sort of high end noble/royal of a faraway kingdom, and Jean (always last to leave the nest, im so sorry baby) somehow gets over there, but I don’t have an idea of his or anyone else’s roles yet. Renee could even still have a hand in him getting there if we really want.

So I’m still writing snippets and drawing over here lol but i promise I don’t bite if you want to talk :D

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marblemoovt · 1 year

Text

Lace - Simon Riley/Reader

Masterlist

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Fluff with some reverse hurt/comfort. The reader's gender is not explicitly mentioned or referred to, but you do wear a dress and makeup in this.

Summary:

Going undercover at a Gala, you need some help lacing up the back of your dress. Luckily Ghost is around to help you.

------

You turn around and show him your back. “Can you lace up my dress, please?”

“I think it looks better this way.” He nuzzles behind your earlobe, inhaling your scent. Goosebumps litter your skin, and you grip the table to ease the shiver that runs through your body. Ghost hums appreciatively, grabbing your waist and rubbing circles into your lower back. “In fact, I think you should take it off.”

Note:

This was almost complete and sitting in my drafts forever. So as a little birthday present to myself, I powered through and finished this fic. I could have worked on this more, but I'm happy with where it is. This entire idea started with a gif I saw on Instagram, which I can no longer find cause I didn't save it :(

Happy Reading! ヾ(•ω•`)o

─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───

You smooth the gown of your dress, admiring yourself in the mirror. The fabric hugs your waist and flares out at your calves, with a slit up to your thighs on one side for more freedom. Turning around, you frown at the reflection of your back. You didn’t think that part through when you bought the dress. It looked so pretty at the time that it never occurred to you how you would close up the back by yourself.

The dress needs to be laced up and tied. While you could struggle and try to manipulate the ribbon on your own, you know the result will be far from passing to fit in with the crowd at the gala. Laswell needs intel—intel kept in a mansion opened to the public only once a year. Price deemed you had the best chance at infiltrating the event; you didn’t get much say. At least you get to keep the dress after this, which is why you bought one of the most expensive dresses from the store.

Heaving a sigh, you walk to the door and peek into the hallway. Ghost is leaning against the wall next to the doorway, skeletal gloves swiping across his phone. You bought him a new pair with thermal tips when you noticed him tugging off his gloves with a grumble every time he reached for his phone. Brown eyes shift from the screen to your face. Maybe it’s because of the flickering fluorescent lights, but his pupils almost tremble when they land on you. He doesn’t say a word, only pockets his phone and pushes himself off the wall stiffly.

“I need help,” you say. His mask shifts, and he tilts his head. Stepping back from the door, you wait. Ghost walks in, his broad shoulders brushing against the doorframe. He pauses after one step, not quite in the room, but not outside either. A statue stuck in limbo. You wave a hand in front of his face, keeping the other on your chest to prevent the dress from falling. “Fucks sake, Simon. I’m half dressed—close the fucking door!” you hiss. He jolts and slams the door behind him. The walls rattle, and the lights flicker. God, you hope Price didn’t notice anything upstairs. When you don’t hear the pounding of footsteps from above, you breathe a sigh of relief.

Ghost continues his silence, but you can feel his eyes rake over you. You shiver under his gaze. “Y’look nice,” he mumbles.

You blink, not registering a single word. “I beg your pardon? I didn’t catch that.” Ghost walks closer, slow and steady steps that send a flutter in your chest. His hands grip your waist and pull you to him. Shivers run through your body when his gloved fingers trace your spine.

“You look ravishing,” he whispers, lightly massaging your exposed back. You bite your lip to suppress a groan, but he hears the quiet noise coming from the back of your throat and chuckles. “How’d I get so lucky?” You can tell from his tone that the question isn’t directed at you.

“I have to be in position in 30 minutes,” you remind him. His hands pause, and he pulls back. Beneath the stoic exterior, Simon is admiring you, burning your image into memory. You’ve noticed that he likes to watch, to silently absorb the world around him and all its minute details. The man makes planning surprises a living hell. There’s a silent promise in his eyes to continue this later.

Ghost clears his throat. “Right. What’d you need me for?” he asks, voice still husky.

You turn around and show him your back. “Can you lace up my dress, please?”

A throaty chuckle escapes your lips, and you lean into his touch. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You can see his reflection in the vanity mirror. The darkness in his eyes threatens to drown you in liquid pools of obsidian. His gaze is intense, but his touch remains featherlight. Constantly aware of his size. Sometimes you wonder how he would react if you told him you want to be torn apart. Would his self-control finally unravel? You suppose you’ll find out tonight.

“30 minutes is plenty. I can give you at least 5 orgasms in that timeframe,” and he sounds almost boastful. You decide to knock him down a few pegs. Bastard’s cheeky enough as is. Personally, you think his banter with Soap has inflated his ego. You’re surprised his head fit through the door when he came in earlier.

“Only 5?” you tsk and shake your head. “You’re losing your touch,” you tease.

Ghost chuffs, sliding his hands down and kneading your thighs. “Didn’t seem like that last night. Had ya beggin’ me to stop,” and his fingers brush dangerously close to your crotch.

Breathing in a shuddery gasp, you grab his hands and squeeze them in a warning. “I need you to redirect the blood flow back to your other head. Mission first,” you insist. His eyes glint in the mirror.

“Didn’t stop us last time.”

“Last time didn’t involve the risk of being flayed alive by Laswell. We can’t fuck this up, Ghost. It’s our only chance.” Months of planning have led up to this moment. This evidence is the last piece of the puzzle needed. Then there will be one less group terrorizing the world. Who knows what will happen in a year—if there even will be another event next time. Laswell has intel that the higher-ups are going through a reformation, and it’ll be too late afterwards. No. This is the one shot your team has at finding those files. You take a deep breath and grip the edge of the table. Your fingernails dig into the old wood, engraving crescent moons onto the surface. “Alright, I’m ready to have my organs rearranged.”

“Thought that was my job.”

“Jesus Christ, Simon!”

He snickers, the corners of his eyes crinkling at the edges. You fight the grin on your face and hand him the ribbon. He gets to work. His deft fingers lace the back of your dress, tightening as he goes. “Let me know if it’s too tight,” he says, nearly finished. You clench your teeth when it feels like a hydraulic press is squeezing your insides. Ghost hears you wheeze and immediately loosens the ribbon. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

“It’s not a real corset. Just has to be tight enough so it doesn’t slip,” you say, and he loosens the rest of the back until your organs aren’t one compact ball.

Ghost pauses. You’re not sure why. All he has to do now is tie a knot, and then you’ll be on your merry way to the party. Soap and Gaz are already posing as servers. Lucky bastards get access to the fancy food before you do. You don’t doubt that some expensive bottles will go missing by the end of tonight. You make a mental reminder to pilfer some of their bounties when everyone returns to base.

“Don’t….” It’s barely a whisper. You look back at Ghost, cocking an eyebrow.

“Did you say something?” you ask.

Ghost, gripping one end of the ribbon in each hand, tugs you into his chest. The air is knocked out of your lungs—more out of surprise than force. The warmth from his body seeps into your exposed skin, stoking the flames that are steadily building. You would have to be a goddamn liar if you said the maneuver didn’t turn you on in the slightest. “Careful,” he mumbles into the nape of your neck, arms wrapped protectively around your waist. His mask is cold, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

“Are you worried, Riley?” you tease. The arms around you tighten, and your gaze softens. “I always am,” you say, reaching behind to pat his head. Ghost huffs, but he leans into your body. You like to call him your personal weighted blanket.

You don’t need to ask what’s bothering him. You don’t typically go on the field for missions. Your position keeps you out of immediate harm, a blessing that Ghost would never admit. He must feel anxious. And while you trust Gaz and Soap with your life, the thought does little to quell his fears. Ghost can’t save or stop you from doing something stupid where his scope can’t follow.

“Come back to me, please,” he whispers. You stare at him in amazement. It’s rare to see him beg. Normally he nags you instead.

“I will. I won’t leave you—not unless I die.” A wry grin cracks your face, but he’s not amused.

Ghost’s signature glare burns into your face. “I’ll kill you if you die on me,” he grunts.

“That’s not how death works,” you say. Despite the ridiculous notion, it’s sweet in its own way.

His expression remains the same. “I’m a ghost, Poppet. I’ll find your spirit and kill you again.”

You tsk, “And here I thought you were going to say something romantic about bringing me back from the dead; I expected too much from you.” When his posture remains rigid, you sigh. “I’ll be fine, Simon,” you say, leaning into his chest. You hear the click of his jaw when he clenches his teeth.

Ghost remains silent for a few moments, lost in a memory from another life. He sighs, the words coming out scratchy, “You don’t know that—no one does.”

You lay a hand over his and give it a gentle squeeze. His fingers dig into your skin, desperate to keep you encircled in his arms where he knows you’re safe. “Well, I know an excellent sniper has my back,” you say.

“Rest of the team would feel left out.” You can’t see the grin on his face, but you can see his reflection squint and hear the lilt in his tone. He’s so cute, puffing up after a little bit of praise.

You snort, “Gaz and Soap are probably guzzling hors d’oeuvres without me as we speak, so fuck them. Mom and Dad always have our backs, so that’s a given.”

A low rumble tickles your back. “I dare ya to call Laswell and Price that to their faces,” Ghost says.

You bark out a laugh. “Do I look suicidal to you?”

Ghost shrugs, “Must be if you’re with me.” Your smile quickly flips into a frown.

“Uh uh. What did I say about self-deprecation?” You sigh and turn around when he doesn’t answer. Hopping onto the table, you sit and cross your legs. Ghost doesn’t meet your gaze. He stares at the mirror behind you. “Simon, you’re not as bad as you think you are,” you whisper, slowly reaching out a hand. When nothing happens, you gently grab his chin and tilt his face to you. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

His pupils swallow his irises. A faint halo of brown that struggles to contain pools of ink. “I think I love you.”

Your lips slant into a crooked smile. “I would hope so, considering we’ve been together for a while.”

He sighs. “Would it kill ya to just say it back?”

“I love you too,” and you go limp like a ragdoll, groaning for added effect.

“Fuckin’ idiot,” Ghost scoffs.

Your lifeless body snaps to life. “The hypocrisy! If I have to put up with your Dad jokes, I’m allowed to have my bits.” Ever since you groaned at the first joke, the number of puns on the radio channel has doubled—quadrupled if Ghost manages to wrangle Soap in on it. His posture is more relaxed now. “Better?” you ask.

“Mhmm.”

You place your right hand over your heart and hold the left one up. “I promise to neuter any man that tries anything with me.” The knife sheathed in your thigh strap will be your best friend tonight.

Ghost crosses his arms, and you know he’s smirking underneath the mask. “Present company excluded, of course?”

“….”

“…Darling.”

“My knives aren’t picky; let’s leave it at that, yeah?”

Ghost’s hands travel down your hips, squeezing them firmly. “Misbehaving already?” he purrs.

You pat his cheek and trail your finger along his jaw. “I like riling you up, same as how you like putting me in my place.”

He pulls you off the table, pressing his growing erection flush against your stomach. “What a pair we make,” he says, his smooth voice caressing your ears.

“Would now be a terrible time to remind you that I must leave in 15 minutes?” you whisper.

Simon doesn’t speak, only tugs his mask off before initiating a heated kiss that sends your head spinning. Minutes pass, and the table thumps against the wall when he pins you against it. Simon is insatiable, devouring you until you’re a gasping mess. His hands prevent you from melting into a puddle on the floor, keeping you upright when your legs lose the ability to stand.

He pulls away with a smug grin, thumb tracing your puffy lips. The bottom half of Simon’s face and his neck are covered in a smattering of red lipstick stains. You’ll need to touch up your makeup before you head out. His eyes flicker to the mirror, and he chuckles, admiring the marks you left behind.

“C’mon, love. You’ve got intel to steal, men to castrate,” he says.

“Don’t forget a buffet to eat,” you add, patting your stomach. You haven’t eaten the entire day besides a light snack in anticipation of this mission. Who says you can’t enjoy yourself at a party thrown by a terrorist?

Simon shakes his head and chuckles. “I fear for whichever poor sod gets between you and the buffet table.” He gazes at you lovingly. His eyes always remain the same. Warm and filled with adoration. “And Poppet?”

“Yeah?”

Simon pauses and plants a kiss on your forehead. “Give ‘em hell,” he says, grinning widely.

“Yes, sir,” you say with a salute, turning to strut out of the room.

Simon leans against the table and adjusts his pants. Fuck, you look delicious from behind. Ghost will have to make sure not to pull the trigger tonight on anybody who shows an interest in you. But Simon? Simon is going to rail you into your bed later and leave some marks of his own. He admires the lipstick stains in the mirror once more. A pleasant reminder that there’s someone still alive who loves him unconditionally. His phone buzzes in his pocket, and he assumes it’s a message to get onto the rooftop.

‘Stop shaking the walls, you animals.’ Simon can sense the annoyance in Price’s words. It isn’t until a stream of emojis appears that he realizes this was sent in the group chat. Gaz and Soap are already giving him shit, sending kissy faces and eggplants. His fingers tighten around his phone, the device creaking from the pressure. The screen updates, and he can see in the bottom corner that you’ve read the messages but haven’t said anything. He smirks and heads to the rooftop, putting his mask back on.

Simon gets to watch a free show tonight through the scope. He can’t wait to see how you’ll terrorize the ‘waiters.’ The spam in the group chat continues, messages zooming through his phone screen. He sets the device down next to him, setting up the rifle and locating you with the scope. Your dress makes it easy for him to find you, and you are power-walking straight to the buffet table, where a pair of waiters are discreetly sneaking food from. His phone screen stops flashing, and a chuckle rumbles through his chest.

Those two are so fucked.

─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───

End Note:

This was going to be spicy, but then I decided not to. So the ending is left open for everyone's interpretation.

I don't know if anyone will see this, but I'm planning to stream on my birthday, so check out my Twitch if you can! I'm hoping to reach the 50 followers goal for affiliate status.

I'll see you guys at my next hyperfixation! (。・∀・)ノ

Reblogs are appreciated!

Taglist: @lovecats123451

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #cod mwii #I am one year older today #no y/n #established relationship #fluff #reverse hurt/comfort #Gaz and Soap being little shits #I bet they steal the little soaps from hotels as well #I have not posted in so long dear lord

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