#Best Transportation Hints
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berryfairyluvr · 1 month ago
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Hi! I love your writing and would like to request Caleb and princess treatment please 💝
caleb and his princess treatment
pairings: bf!caleb/husband!caleb x fem!reader
warnings: suggestive, slight hinting of jealousy?, mentions of pregnancy
a/n: you’re very sweet, thank you for the request!! i hope it’s to your liking <3
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As far back as you could remember, Caleb had always treated you with the utmost care, tending to your needs in any way he could.
During your secondary school years, Caleb decided he would make not only his own lunch, but yours too. You’d always been a picky eater and he couldn’t trust you to feed yourself if the cafeteria didn’t have enough foods that interested you. After finally moving in together as a couple— he picked up the old habit and began making your lunches for work too.
Growing up, you and Caleb often took the public transportation to and from school or town. On extra crowded days when you could only find one empty seat he’d always give it to you.
He had always been the looming overprotective presence in your life, like the time he told the entirety of the school basketball team that you were “off limits.”
And of course he picks you up from the Association in his sports car, leaning against the sleek vehicle with a cheesy grin and deep dimples, aviator shades perched on his nose. “Well hello girlfriend..” which later became his personal favorite, “Hello wife..” Followed by wrapping a lengthy arm around your waist the other around your shoulders, kissing your flushed face.
Insists on carrying you if your feet hurt, you’re sleepy, or it’s even remotely inconvenient for you to walk. Bonus: bridal style all the time.
He talks about you like you’re his entire world (because you are)—casually, without shame. “Yeah, my girlfriend made this.” “MC said that once, it stuck with me.” “She’s smarter than me, actually.”
You try to help him clean up or fix something? He gently turns you around, plants you on the nearest seat, and kisses your forehead. “Let me take care of it, baby.” “Nuh-uh Pips, just sit here and look pretty for me, yeah?”
One of his love languages has always been acts of service— taking note of every little detail of your daily routines so he can find a way to make them easier for you without question.
His clothes? Pfft no, they’re our clothes. Whatever he owns he considers yours as well, emphasis on the clothing. He even buys things for himself based on how he pictures you in them eventually..
As cringey as it sounds, this man will hand feed you like a baby. Whether you’re working overtime from home or gaming he’s making sure you’re getting your meals.
Studying or working together proved to be challenging when he couldn’t tear his eyes off your figure or halt his lingering touches of affection which proved to be quite the distraction.
You're not just loved—you’re revered. He never lets you forget how special you are to him. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. Let me prove it every day."
For some blissfully, wonderful, unknown reason, this man is always on his knees before you, for you. Whether it’s to tie your shoelaces or to praise his most favorite, sacred part of your- (whaaaatt ?? who said that ??)
You send ONE moderately risqué photo his way and he’s blowing up your phone like the dozens of ships he explodes with the fleet.
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You knew him to be protective and caring before but when you’re expecting his first child it’s a different story. He spends the whole first month of your first trimester researching beneficial recipes for expecting mothers and their babies. “I’ll set aside time to meal prep each meal for you daily, it’ll be great Pips.”
When your newborn arrives, Caleb insists on waking up with you for each and every night shift of feedings and diaper changes. The dark circles under your eyes tug at his heart strings as he urges you back to bed as soon as you’re done with the baby. “My little copilot wants to be around mommy all the time too, hm?” He rocks your newborn back to sleep with a yawn of his own.
Gaming at his desk while you're dozing in and out of sleep from the couch he can't help but check on you, even if it's mid match. “You good, baby? Need anything? Water? Snack? A nap on me instead of the couch?” He's just glad to have you near and willing to do anything to keep you close.
He's always carrying your things for you, literally everything. When the two of you would walk home from school your backpack was always slung over his shoulder, it didn't matter that he had his own backpack and his basketball bag. That quickly became the norm for everything, shopping bags, leftovers from the hotpot place, your luggage when visiting him in Skyhaven.. The list goes on, you weren't allowed to carry anything on his watch. It was no use protesting anymore, you'd just be met with a dimpled smirk and kiss to your cheek.
Don't even try to leave or go to sleep without giving him his last kiss of the day. "EXCUSE ME. Where do you think you're going without my goodbye kiss?" He'd steal a few extra and say it was just for safety precautions.
He loves complimenting you all day, everyday. He loves the reactions you give him, would do just about anything for them.
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read zayne’s version here
read sylus' version here
requests open ❤︎
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syluslnd · 9 months ago
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Your writing style is positively inspiring and transporting 😍 I’ve been wanting to ask this for a long time, but only have built up the courage to request: how Sylus would react to learning the MC or y/n is on antidepressants/anti anxiety meds for their past traumas, and possibly how he would react to noticing MC having rough mental health days . I absolutely understand if it’s not something you want or can write on 💙🙏 just wanted to at least ask :)
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Sylus reaction to reader who’s on meds
(hi anon personally I’ve never had to be on meds so this topic is one I’m not too familiar with,I tried my best to write it accordingly;I hope you’re well and I’m glad you had the courage to send in this request it was something completely new for me to write🤍)
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The apartment was quiet when Sylus arrived, far quieter than he expected. Normally, the moment he stepped through the door, he’d hear your cheerful voice, some casual greeting or see you bouncing from room to room in your usual flustered, charming way. But today, there was only silence.
He walked in, his boots making soft thuds against the floor. His eyes flickered around the room, scanning for signs of your presence. A mug sat abandoned on the kitchen counter, half-filled with tea, long gone cold. There was a book lying open on the couch, its pages dog-eared but you were nowhere to be seen.
“Sylus?” your voice, faint and hesitant, called from down the hall. You appeared a moment later, your face wearing a smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. Something about you seemed… off.
“Hey, sweetie” he said, forcing his usual smirk as he approached you. But there was a subtle flicker of concern in his eyes, something he tried to mask behind his casual tone. “Everything okay? You look a little worn out.”
“Oh, just tired” you replied quickly, your tone a little too light, a little too quick. “I didn’t sleep well last night. But it’s fine.”
Sylus nodded slowly, watching you for a moment longer. He had known you long enough to read the slight tremor in your voice the tension in your shoulders but he didn’t push. Not yet.
While you disappeared into the kitchen to grab something, Sylus moved toward the living room. He casually glanced over the cluttered coffee table, where your things were strewn about, remnants of a busy week. But then his eyes caught something small and unassuming—an orange bottle, half-hidden under some papers.
He paused, his brow furrowing as he picked it up. Xanax. His breath hitched, his normally composed expression slipping as he turned the bottle in his hand, staring at the label. Anxiety medication. The name alone struck him with a mix of surprise and concern.
You hadn’t mentioned this. Not once. Not even hinted at it. You were always so bright, so full of life, even when you tripped over your words or blushed under his teasing gaze. The thought that something darker had been lurking beneath your usual cheerfulness hit him hard.
“Sylus?” Your voice startled him. He quickly set the bottle down but not before you saw the way his fingers lingered on it, the way his expression tightened with unspoken questions. He looked up at you, his usual confidence suddenly faltering.
There was a beat of silence before he spoke, his voice quieter than usual. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
You froze, your heart sinking as your eyes darted from him to the bottle of pills he’d clearly seen. The weight of it, the unspoken truth you had been hiding, suddenly became too heavy to ignore. You opened your mouth but no words came out at first.
Sylus stood there, his gaze now piercing in a different way—less teasing more intense more concerned. His hands hung at his sides, as if he wasn’t sure what to do with them as if he wanted to reach out to you but didn’t know how.
“Sweetie…” His voice softened, a rare break in his usual sharp demeanor. “How long have you been dealing with this?”
You took a shaky breath, feeling the tension in the air thicken. “I—I didn’t want to bother you” you admitted, your voice small guilt and fear tightening your chest. “You’re always so busy, with work and everything. I didn’t want to make it a big deal.”
Sylus’s eyes narrowed and for the first time there was no smirk, no teasing glint. He looked… hurt. His jaw tightened and he ran a hand through his hair, visibly grappling with how to respond. “A big deal? You’re dealing with something this serious and you thought it wasn’t worth telling me?”
You couldn’t meet his gaze anymore, your eyes dropping to the floor. The truth, the weight of what you’d been hiding, was unbearable now. “I didn’t want to worry you” you whispered, feeling the sting of tears welling up. “I’ve just been… struggling. A lot. But I didn’t know how to say it. I didn’t want to seem weak. Not to you.”
For a moment, Sylus didn’t speak. His silence was heavy, filled with thoughts you couldn’t quite read. Then he exhaled sharply, as if he was trying to release some of the tension that had been building up inside him.
“You’re not weak” he finally said, his voice a little rough around the edges. His hand lifted, hesitant at first but then he stepped closer and gently cupped your cheek, tilting your face up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. “You should’ve told me. I should’ve noticed.”
His thumb brushed lightly across your cheek, wiping away a tear you hadn’t realized had fallen. The guilt in his eyes was undeniable and it broke through that tough, stoic exterior he usually wore like armor.
“I’ve been so caught up with work…” he muttered, mostly to himself, his jaw clenching as he shook his head. “I should’ve been here for you. I’m sorry.”
You shook your head quickly, trying to quell the guilt you could see eating at him. “No, it’s not your fault, Sylus. You couldn’t have known. I—I’ve gotten good at hiding it. I didn’t want anyone to see how bad it’s been.”
His hand moved from your cheek to your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “But I should’ve seen it” he said, his voice low and tense, filled with regret. “You’re always so… cheery around me. I didn’t know you were feeling like this underneath it all.”
You swallowed hard finally letting the full weight of your feelings tumble out. “I didn’t know how to talk about it” you admitted, your voice breaking. “It’s been hard. The anxiety, the feeling like I’m drowning some days… I’ve been putting on a mask just to get through.”
Sylus’s grip on your shoulder tightened, his expression darkening with the weight of what you were saying. “You don’t have to do that with me” he said firmly, his voice low and intense. “You don’t have to hide anything.”
You felt a lump rise in your throat the vulnerability making you feel raw and exposed. But the way he was looking at you now—so serious, so full of regret—made you feel like you could finally let go of the walls you had built around yourself.
“I didn’t want to burden you” you whispered, voice trembling. “You’re always busy. I didn’t want to be another thing on your plate.”
His eyes flashed with frustration, not at you, but at himself. “You’re not a burden, sweetie” he said, his voice soft but intense. “You could never be.”
There was a long tense silence before Sylus sighed heavily pulling you into his chest, his arms wrapping around you tightly. The embrace was firm, reassuring in a way that made your entire body relax for the first time in weeks. His scent, his warmth, everything about him was grounding.
“I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner” he whispered, his voice thick with guilt. “But I’m here now. I’ll make more time for you. We’ll get through this together, okay?”
You nodded into his chest, feeling the weight of the past few weeks lift just a little. With Sylus holding you like this, for the first time in a while, you didn’t feel so alone.
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nezz-cringe-crib · 22 days ago
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recently been going insanely feral with @dragonkittyipod / @gl6mp about a lawlight mormon AU so i'm inflicting it onto everyone on tumblr too. ouhhhgggg how i love projecting and having free will.
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now here's a few headcanons that we have made up about these idiots. i'm kind of obsessed with them now:
LIGHT / ELDER YAGAMI: - Light is waaayyyyy into the Bible. Like he Really Likes it, genuinely. That thing runs his world. Please ask him questions about it, he has them memorized. He's The Mormon Ever and he is very proud of it. - Light goes on his mission and gets sent to England and boy does he have the worst time. His English isn't as perfect as he'd like and the transportation is horrible and what the fuck in the world is this food. It's okay though guys this is just another part of God's plan he's okay. - Light prays at least once every hour. No he does not have OCD, why do you ask? - He probably says his guilty pleasure is ironing all his clothes. - He's ssoooo good at keeping his mind pure. He's never thought about "skank girls" once in his life. No don't ask him about the one time he stumbled on a gay porn ad, he repented already. - Soichiro is the bishop of his church back home, but nono he's a good guy who would never fall into the "bishop's son" stereotype. His sister on the other hand is a little concerning but that's okay he's working on saving her don't worry.
L / BROTHER LAWLIET: - L came to the church once out of curiosity and somehow got registered into their system so now apparently he's counted as an "inactive member" who's got these random twinks banging on his door every few weeks. - However one twink in particular is very convincing. - That's kind of the only reason why he's here again. - L's new goal in life is deadset on corrupting this twink. If God is real then he'll let him bang this twink on the pew. - L keeps making innuendos but Light does Not understand them whatsoever nor take Any hints. At this point L is severely worried about how sheltered this guy is. He didn't even understand a Spongebob reference. - It'll hurt his dignity but he's willing to try the soaking method if that's what it takes to get a taste of this guy. - Please just one chance with this fucked up twink just once God
that's all. i hope all the other raised-mormon-turned-yaoi-addicts enjoy this because i am having the best time
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satoruhour · 2 years ago
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a/n: boss moved a few days ago and i got so much inspiration just from one of the movers calling her 美女 WOW !
warnings: perv!geto, mover!geto, reader has a deadbeat husband boooo, gojo listens in i guess? sex in a TRUCK, cheating, clit stimulation, oral / cunnilingus, fingering, p -> v penetration, unprotected sex, doggy, chokehold, creampie / breeding kink, panty stealing, n*sfw under the cut
thinking about…
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mover!geto who gets notified on a job to some suburban neighbourhood to assist in a move, known for his fast team of workers and efficient way of packing. he’s surprised when he’s connected to a woman’s voice, greeting him cheerfully before setting up a meeting.
mover!geto who finds his eyes flicking down to get a look at your tits when he reaches your place, accentuated by the low cleavage of the sundress you’re donning in this heat. you’re also sneaking glances at the other, eyes travelling over his inked arms and tied hair but geto doesn’t notice because your voice is even more hypnotic in person, bringing him into the house to show the various furniture that’s about to be packed up. by now he already would’ve mapped out the best way to transport everything out, but the way your hips sway and your ass looks makes him giddy.
mover!geto who lies and says he needs a few more visits to your house to finalise everything, noting down how your husband treats you like crap, bosses you around and does nothing but laze around all day. and so he slips in little hints, your husband should get into guiness from how much he sits in front of the tv, and initiates small brushes of his fingers on yours, a hand on your back as he passes.
mover!geto who calls you with a pretty girl! when he needs to know which furniture to bring and which to dispose of, making your heart skip a beat — because how else would you react when there’s an attractive man in a bun with arms decorated with tattoos calls you? all the while his jumps from how quickly you answer, scampering over to him to nod with your bright eyes and big smile, no matter how shitty your husband was being. you truly didn’t know what you did to him, mind wandering to wanting to see your breasts bounce in his face while he flipped up your dress to fuck you.
mover!geto who orders another truck to be brought to your old home, getting confused looks from his workers when everything could already fit except for a few small things and he doesn’t tell them it’s already on the way with his best friend in the front seat. and of course your husband is ready to make his way to the new home immediately to continue doing nothing, leaving the both of you.
“you got everything?” geto asks, prompting you to look around at the barren house, a place once filled with love which turned sour and stagnant, but now is no place for those memories, nodding with a soft smile towards geto who only guides you out the front door.
“yep, think so. thanks again, geto-san!” the move only shoots you a small grin, and asks you to call him suguru instead, helping you to carry the smaller chairs and items for the last truck, noticeably smaller than the others. he stretches out a hand for you to ride at the back of the truck, almost collapsing from how soft your hands felt. if only he could feel them around his cock. his best friend, gojo, who’s also from the moving company shoots a salute in greeting, predicting what’s coming with a knowing look in his eyes as he slides the partition close.
mover!geto who has you on your back a few minutes after the truck takes off for the new house, you clutching onto the cling wrap for some stability while the long-haired mover laps at your clit, large, rough hands spreading your legs further and further while your moans echo throughout the large truck. you’re getting wet so easily as your body shakes from the sensitivity, feeling the other grin between your legs.
“feeling good, pretty girl?” you manage a whimper, knuckles turning white from how tightly you were balling your fists and he simply grabs them, keeping his eyes on you as he places them on his hair, already all unkempt.
“use me, baby,” geto groans lowly when you pull just slightly to see his face better, barely seeing the glint in his eyes and the shine of your arousal on his face in the dark truck, “use me like you fuckin’ mean it.”
all suguru can do is groan out when you push him down onto your pussy, continuing his abuse on your puffy clit while you grind your hips into his face, clearly unsatisfied with your husband. your mover’s tongue just feels so damn good on your neglected core that you can’t care about consequences right at this moment, gasping in surprise at the finger that draws circles around your hole. 
“cleaned it earlier, don’t worry that pretty lil head of yours, okay?” geto reassures as you nod, obsessed with the way your cunt sucks his thick finger in so easily. it pulses around its tip, feeling your thigh shake beneath his hand while it’s pushed right to its hilt. you’ve never reached this deep with your own, body already craving more when it moves against him. 
“oh, needy baby. bet your husband doesn’t do shit, hm?” you pout and shake your head, hand closing around his wrist to get him to move and he chuckles, barely warning you before he inserts a second finger slowly. the stretch feels so good and you whine with a tug to his hair that’s already falling apart, breathless moans leaving your mouth.
“he’s shit,” you have to calm yourself before you mumble, a hand goes through his hair, eyes fluttering close when geto starts to move his fingers, “shit at everything.” geto coos at that, head dripping back down and the combination of his tongue and his fingers make your eyes roll back, lips finally muttering out a suguru and geto moans into your perfect little pussy, loving the way you tense and clench around him.
mover!geto who gets a knock on the partition, fifteen minutes, gojo says and geto has you on your hands and knees quicker than you can blink, easing into your warm, dripping pussy with his hard cock. he sighs in relief when he’s finally in you, willing himself not to cum like a virgin just from being in your cunt.
“s— suguru… s’big…” you moan out, head hanging low as you feel the pain morph into pleasure and you’re moving your hips back onto his. geto still has to catch his breath for a minute, but the way you turn behind to look at him with teary eyes and downturned eyebrows and with a desperate plea, “show me how much you’ve been wanting me, suguru,” geto snaps his hips into yours, a loud groan leaving his lips at how wet your cunt is, essence dripping right from your core onto the truck.
“i’ll show you, pretty baby,” he starts a pace, waist bruised from how tight he holds them while he fucks into you. you’re just as tight and warm as he imagined, and pliant, too, cock twitching in you when he sees how obediently you take it. “show you how fucking much i’ve been meaning to bury my cock in you.”
“c’mon, spread your cheeks for me, mama,” geto whispers, a whimper leaving him when you do just that and he has a front row seat to your wet cunt sucking him in so well while he slams into you like an animal, not caring at the way your face brushes up against the harsh bottom of the truck, mouth going limp with multiple mewls filling the space.
“oh— fuck yes!! right there, right t—there suguruuu…” a hand goes to rub at your clit and the sensation sends you reeling, along with the musky smell of sex in the air and the pap! pap! pap! of geto’s hips against yours. you can hear just how wet you are from the way geto rams into you, pre-cum and your juices mixing and squelching each time his length disappears into you. he yanks you up, looping an arm around your neck and another ’round your waist, the arch of your back allowing the other to go deeper.
“cumming, s’guru, i’m gonna cum—” everything is hazy and blurred from how good geto sinks into you paired with the irregular bumps of the truck on the road, lightheaded already from the chokehold he has you in. the truck goes over a bump suddenly and the thick cock inside you hits a spot that has your eyes reaching the skies, a loud, choked moan leaving your lips before it gets swallowed up by geto’s, his hand turning your head to meet his.
“good fuckin’ girl,” geto says breathlessly into your mouth, “give me all your cum, darlin’.”  
your whole body is on fire, breaking off the kiss momentarily to whine out profanities until geto’s asking, delirious, “where do you want me to cum, baby?”
and your primal need to be bred takes over, crying out now with tears lining your face as your body still jerks from the mindblowing orgasm. “inside suguru— i-inside, please—!”
suguru just grunts out at your plea, body also reaching his limit before he stills and he reaches his high, shivering behind you as he spurts hot cum deep into your cunt, spilling and overloading until your pussy’s full of his seed. he feels fulfilled, hissing when your hole clenches around him one last time, removing his cock from you slowly.
“keep it in ya, yeah?” geto grins just as the truck begins to slow down and you’re scrambling to appear decent while there’s the hot flow of your mover’s cum dripping out of your pussy, stifling a smile when you see your undies tucked at the back at his pocket and an instruction that if you want it back, you’re gonna have to find me in the toilet and let me fuck you full of my cum again.
mover!geto who finally gets you wrapped around his finger just like he’ll get you wrapped around his cock many, many more times after this.
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ew-selfish-art · 2 years ago
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DPxDC AU: Tim receives an interesting email from DalvCo explaining why the CEO is not to be trusted- It's an internal email and suddenly Tim is experiencing supernatural phenomena. He knows that the two events are absolutely related, but he's going to let the cutie stumble his way through data points and vague threats anyway.
(Sorry this got long lmao)
Tim is exhausted after a long night of staking out a new drug cartel with Hood (which in itself took a lot of energy from both of them to have the patience for the other- things are good, not great)... so right now he's logging into his WE email on the train to his office because he's incredibly late. And while he scrolls and contemplates the failsafes he has to make sure Tam doesn't murder him outright- he sees an unexpected email from Vladimir Masters.
Tim's curiosity is piqued, he'd thought that Vlad would have gotten the hint after Tim dismissed him at that Christmas gala a few years ago. Most people took Tim's snubbing as a fatality in the Gotham socialite scene- Most knew him to be 'an agreeable young man', and Tim's reputation had paid a small price for making Vlad's failed vibe check known to the room. The tabloids blamed it on the champagne glass he had in his hand- Has he mentioned how much he hates Vicky Vale lately??
Tim has a few stops to go and he's pretty sure that he's going to delete the email, but in sleep deprived inspiration, he decides it might as well entertain him while he waits. The letter isn't at all what he expected.
"Hello Wayne Enterprise's CEO Tim Drake, I'm sending you this letter on behalf of the entire Midwest to advise that you, under no circumstances, come into contact with or speak to the CEO of DalvCo Vlad Masters. He is underhanded and utilizes untraceable tactics to procure deals. We have reason to believe you may be targeted in the next few days and hope that you are able to take steps for your own safety to avoid Vlad Masters at all costs.
Sincerely, 👑"
Tim feels bewildered for a moment and then... Like a cat with a new toy mouse. A game was afoot! He needed to track down these hackers, he needed to be their best fucking friend (find out their secrets & Vlads) and he needed to apprehend Vlad ASAP! Untraceable tactics? Tim scoffs, but the challenge excites him.
Arriving at WE, Tam looks ready to throw a knife his way (he reminds her that Pru does it better) and states that if Vlad Masters tries to make an appointment- accept it but give him the run around. Make an appointment and continue to contest it, change it, delay it until Tim is actually ready for him. The lights start to flicker, both of them notice it.
Everytime Tim gets a second to investigate Vlad in his office, the room's temperature drops. Tim notices it, and having experienced a number of supernatural phenomena, he knows it has to be related.
Tim decides not to beat around the bush. He comes back to the office that night equipped with a Ouija board, candles and a bag of other occult accessories. He quickly finds, upon setting up, that there is now a groaning Teenager in front of him- lambasting his efforts and chastizing him for taking a meeting with Vlad. Did he not get the fuckin memo??
Tim quickly begins to ask his questions, grateful to not have to deal with the party game board, and takes diligent notes.
"Right, so, you're just a concerned citizen ghost who knows what kind of nefarious deeds Vlad gets up to, how?" ---
Danny is losing his shit. Here he is, having done all the ground work to tell this guy not to meet with Vlad and he's already got him on the schedule! Danny took a page from Technus' book and transported himself alongside the short email. He didn't get this guy at all! Tim was like, basically the same age and clearly super fucking smart, why was he acting like this was a fucking birthday gift? Scratch that, the dude has a Ouija Board- it's like a lame ass birthday party in here!
Danny cannot help himself but return to the visible spectrum and give this guy a talking to- Which, the atmosphere of a birthday party still doesn't change, for ancient's sake this guy is taking notes with a megawatt smile! He's smiling! Danny just described Vlad taking down like, three American dynasties and the dude is nodding his head along gleefully.
Then suddenly, Danny realizes that he might be on the chopping block. Tim asks his first question and it's not about Vlad at all.
"Er, yeah. Just a concerned ghost citizen." Danny cringes.
"Right, and that's why you hacked into the Mayor of your town's email... Right Tucker?"
Danny blanches, not because the guy knew about Amity Park, but because apparently Tucker's online persona had been compromised. SHIT.
"Uh, I'm not Tucker." Danny attempts to lie- why was he so bad at lying again?!
"Of course you aren't, he's currently playing doomed, but it would have been smart to take the out I offered you. Do you want to tell me your name or do you want me to throw out another random guess? You should know that I've done my homework."
"...It's Danny."
"Certainly not Danny Fenton? Who is, sorry to say it, heir to DalvCo? The same one who totally doesn't have a school record of absences equivalent to well documented town hauntings?"
"Yep." Danny cringes, and giving up the goat, transforms back into his human self, "But seriously dude, you can't meet with Vlad. He'll just... take it all."
Tim blinks at him a few times, and his cheeks flush. Danny desperately tries to ignore that response as well as his own (he knows his ears are red, sue him).
"Right. Well, how would you like an internship? First order of business would be meeting with me and my PA Tam and helping us play ball." The guy has a feral grin. The grin kind of scares Danny, it definitely annoys him and a small part of him is curiously charmed.
"Dude you're not hearing me-" Danny tries before being cut off.
"Yeah yeah, supernatural bullshit is involved, Got that." Tim waves him off. Okay never mind, not charmed at all, Danny is completely annoyed.
"I swear to all the ancients-" Danny has to stop himself to calm down, "Dude consider yourself fucking haunted. I'm not helping you with a suicide mission to talk to the creep and I will be making your ass miserable for deciding to go down this path."
"Is that a promise?" Tim is basically batting his eyelashes at Danny and Danny is desperately trying to ignore that.
"Bet." And then he goes invisible.
"That's cute, pretending to leave me." Tim smirks and Danny can't help but let out an exasperated groan.
As it turns out, Tim is incredibly difficult to spook and his normal haunting methods are not fucking working. Has this guy just, like, seen every single horror movie?
----
Tim knows this is going to be fun, even if it means not going out as Red Robin for a while... Maybe he should get back into his night photography and give the guy a chance to enhance the creepiness of Gotham? Maybe start going to restaurants alone and get the guy to join him at a secluded two person table? Tim has plans on plans on plans.
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beegomess · 11 months ago
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Imagines and Headcanons || Slytherin Boys
Transporting you to the Harry Potter universe, where you interact exclusively with the cunning and enigmatic Slytherin boys.
Link to the Portuguese version on Wattpad
Requests are open✨🫶🏼
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Obscenities will be with *
⊹˚₊‧ 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔 ‧₊˚⊹
How others see you as a couple What is your relationship like? Their care of you seck They dreming about you* Meeting you after the breaking up They are your brother's best friend Your marriage with them Song that represents your relationship - Lana's Version Your honeymoon
⊹˚₊‧ 𝑰𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔 ‧₊˚⊹
Blaise Zabini Fuck, I love everything about you*
Draco Malfoy coming soon
Lorenzo Berkshire Heated libraries* I can love you even in the dark
Mattheo Riddle She’s like me. I would die for her... I would kill for her* Tell your baby that i’m your baby In how many ways can you love him? Real love baby Is your father at home?* Take me back to the night we met
Theodore Nott Profane girl* Platonic loves I know I'll love you Are we bad for that? Summer wine* Can you be my sister?
Tom Riddle The girl who came from hell Loving you forever Do you know her? 'Cause I'm addicted In the shadow of power The devil knows exactly what you want
Random Imagines || Other characters
Dark Paradise || Theodore Nott
Link to the Portuguese version on Wattpad
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Summary: Since they met, Y/N Malfoy and Theodore Nott have always been in the same social circles, but they were never close. Theodore, Draco's discreet friend who was always present at formal events, maintained an air of mystery that sparked Y/N's interest. At parties filled with alcohol and cigarettes, their conversations stood out for their depth and sincerity, revealing a sensitive and complex side of Theodore, different from the reserved image he presented to others.
As their interactions intensified, Y/N and Theodore began to understand each other in a unique way, sharing dilemmas and dreams. Their meetings, often under the moonlight or in libraries, became a journey of self-discovery and love. However, their emerging feelings faced challenges imposed by society and their own insecurities. Involved in a budding romance, they had to decide if they were willing to risk everything for this bond that flourished in the shadows.
Theodore Nott x Y/N Malfoy
Published chapters:
Prologue 01. Invisible Flirts 02. Childhood Crushes 03. Boy, you wanna come to my hotel, honey? 04. Swan Lake 05. How deep is your love? 06. Eyes on fire 07. Hidden Desires 08. Merry Crhistmas, Teddy 09. Scape 10. Sweet Dreams 11. Hints of jealousy 12. Dark days 13. Unexpected letters 14. Dances and feelings 15. Your halo’s full of fire 16. Friends come before boys 17. How'd it get so scandalous? 18. Holidays, Letters and Passions 19. Birthday gifts 20. Polaroids 21. Somebody's watching me 22. You drive me wild
387 notes · View notes
just-a-sewer-goblin · 6 months ago
Text
Collars Of Duty 4
MalinoisHybrid!Simon x reader
- Chapter 3 - Chapter 5
Simon's gone and you're left to deal with his sudden absence. But maybe it's not all over yet.
~ 8,3k Words
Content (might contain spoilers): reader being mean to themselves in their thoughts, hybrid AU, mention of past injury, hints at past attack, mentions of therapy, biting, blood
A.N: I messed with the COD timeline here. I know that some of the things I mention don't happen during this time and don't fit with the canon but it's my AU so shush. Curious if you lot catch the cameo. Have fun. Also not my best chapter but I poured a lot of heart, time and effort into it.
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It’s been almost a week since Simon’s transport back to England. A week that you’ve spent at home again. The day you arrived at work to find Simon gone you went back to medical leave. Now as you sit on your couch and look out through your living room window you wonder if that was the best decision.
Simon’s sudden absence left you hollower than you anticipated. You spent barely a week by his side, most of which he was unconscious. So how come you care so damn much already?
You go through your usual routine. Making food, going outside, meeting friends, attending therapy, working on your mind and body. You do everything you did the past few weeks that helped you get back to your feet after Phillip but the worry for Simon won’t fade. It’s always there in the back of your head, a nagging feeling that leaves you thinking about him way more than you probably should.
Is he okay? Are they taking good care of him? Do they take it slow and take his trauma and needs into consideration? Does he have a handler that knows how to help him? How are his wounds?
You feel silly for caring so much about the large hybrid but another pitiful part of you whispers that it might prove that you’re a good person. Caring so much about someone you barely know surely proves that you have a good heart.
Then there’s another part that admonishes you for thinking that. No truly good person would think about whether their actions or thoughts make them a good person and you grow ashamed again. You try to shove all those thoughts somewhere in a corner of your mind where you don’t have to hear them constantly. The back and forth driving you insane without coming up with any conclusive answer.
You worry about him. That’s how it is. You care There is nothing you can do to change that except try not to think about him so much. But honestly you don’t want to stop thinking about him. Something about Simon struck your heart and you feel the need to figure out what.
You sigh as you nurse your mug with your favourite hot beverage in it, taking another slow sip savoring the taste. Has Simon ever had a drink like this? You sigh. Here you go again, thinking about the malinois hybrid without pause.
You let your head fall back against the backrest of the couch, staring at the ceiling. When did your home start feeling more like a self inflicted prison? There’s a restlessness growing in you. It’s starting deep in your stomach and spreads its way through your limbs making you bounce your knee until you almost spill your drink jerking your head back up to safe it at the last second.
Why did you go back to medical leave? You had been more than willing to return for Simon’s case. But as soon as he left you went back home like a snail hiding in it’s shell. You rest your elbows on your knees and let your head hang forward the muscles of your neck stretching uncomfortably.
You’re a damn coward. Resting at home. It doesn’t feel like healing anymore it feels like you’re running away. Running from the center and all the hybrids it houses. You hate it, hate Phillip for ruining all dog hybrids with just one attack. Why does he have the power to make you afraid of all of them. It’s not fair.
Do the others think you’re a coward as well? Hiding at home again after you came back for a week. What is management thinking? That you could return for an emergency but not for the relative calmness of every day? What will happen if you don’t come back quick enough for them? Will you lose your job? Would they actually fire you over something like this?
Just like that sitting at home feels like wasted time. Every minute spent on your couch is a minute you could be working and trying to get over your fear. And suddenly your certain that you have to return to work if you want to make further progress.
Additionally to your sudden urgency to just do something instead of sitting at home and licking your wounds the thought of everyone secretly judging your return to absence makes you feel itchy. But it’s your own judgment makes you the most uncomfortable. You can’t escape your own thoughts that remind you how cowardly you’re behaving. How you’re wasting away thinking about a hybrid who never even was your charge.
Thinking about a hybrid who you foolishly put a lot of hope into.
It makes no logical sense that you feel like Simon was your way back to working with hybrids. You had been sure that working with a problem hybrid would be the worst thing that could happen to you. You had been sure it would make you feel worse and undo everything you’ve achieved in therapy so far.
Now it feels like anyone other than the problem hybrid will hinder your recovery.
For a moment you feel selfish for wanting to gain something out of helping a hybrid. How can you think like that? Even if working with one stops your progress it would be worth it if you could help them. It’s not their job to help you. You’re supposed to help them, that’s what you’re being paid for, dammit. Helping them without gaining anything should be all you want.
Still it would be the best case scenario if working with one would also allow you to slowly get used to them again. It would be nice if the hybrid could help you too. And you decide that you can allow yourself that little bit of selfishness.
But even if that best case scenario were to happen. Before you can get anyone elses help you’ll have to want to help yourself.
The days of peacefully sitting on your couch letting the world outside continue to turn while you exist in your own little reality that consists of your home and the doctors office are over. You’ve had enough time off. It’s time to return to work. If you don’t your own thoughts that continue to run in circles will drive you insane.
No matter how often you dissect what happened with Phillip it won’t change what happened and maybe it’s time to accept that.
It’s probably best if you go back to the center today, before you lose your drive. And what better way to return than just going for lunch. Nice and casual. Nothing scary. At least that’s what you’re trying to convince yourself of as your palms immediately begin getting sweaty.
It’s tiring always being scared and even if it scares you more to go back, at least you’re doing something. You can’t take another second of sitting at home waiting to feel better while doing nothing.
A sudden burst of energy has you rushing all over your home while you get ready and sprint out of your front door before your nerves catch up to you.
You try your hardest not to second guess yourself as your unsteady hands hold the access card against the entrance of the compound. It opens with a beep and you rush through. When you stand in front of the main building you freeze. Your hands are shaking and you will yourself to breathe deeply.
There will be a lot of hybrids at the cafeteria, and suddenly your feet wont take another step. Flashes of teeth, dripping with vicious saliva, snapping and tearing at you appear in your mind. You’re certain that there’s an aggressive hybrid growling behind you but when you turn there’s no one there. Wincing you wrap your arms around yourself, trying to make you feel some semblance of safety.
You’ve already managed to come here and turning around to go back home feels like defeat. You can already taste it’s bitter tang just from thinking about not going through with your plan. For a moment you chew on your lower lip, indecisive then you look up at the building. Liz should be working right now. Maybe she’s willing to have her break with you.
Taking two steps at once, you rush up the stairs hoping you don’t meet anyone, especially no hybrid before you reach Liz’ office. Your heart pumps hectically while you strain your ears to make sure you’ll hear approaching steps over your harsh breathing. You’re lucky, getting there without running into anyone and you quickly slip inside without knocking.
Your heart swells at the way Liz positively beams at your appearance. It should not surprise you as much as it does when she immediately takes her break so she can go to the cafeteria with you. The way she links her arm with yours is so easy and natural that it makes you gulp suppressing the strong urge to hide behind her.
You grow more and more tense the closer you get to the cafeteria. Liz chattering fading to the background even if it’s her attempt to distract you. There are two hybrids and their handlers joining your direction. Luckily they’re concentrated on their handlers and the promise of food after training. The two of them don’t even give you any attention besides a quick glance.
When you realize that they won’t attack, you relax minutely. Everything is okay, you’re okay. The hybrids at the center are all friendly. Usually.
Aggressive Hybrids are usually kept on leash. There’s various reasons why a handler might decide to keep their charge on a leash and none of the handlers here would let an aggressive hybrid roam free.
You almost manage to gain some control over your fear until you hear a sudden bark behind you. It’s loud and startling and you can feel your heart jump painfully in your chest.
You rip your arm away from Liz, whipping around. Fear clogs your throat and you can feel your eyes watering in sheer panic.
A golden retriever hybrid is running at you his steps slightly uneven. Where his left leg should be is a prosthetic attached but it does nothing to slow him down. His handler is further down the hallway and from the leash that loosely hangs from the hybrids collar it’s evident that he ripped himself free from his handlers hold.
His ears are perked up and flop with every step, his face lit up with obvious joy but it doesn’t help the terror that floods through you at the sight of him running at you. A very faint voice reminds you that you know this hybrid and he wouldn’t hurt you, but that voice is easily silence by the dread that overpowers everything.
He stretches his arms out to the side and Liz takes a step forward.
Before he reaches you, or Liz can step into his way you thrust out your hand out in front of yourself in sheer desperation.
“STOP!”
Alex skids to a halt like he just ran against a wall, having to shift his weight so he doesn’t fall. The prosthetic makes an awful screeching noise as it scrapes over the floor. His ears droop and his tail halts mid wag, uncertain what just happened. You’d feel bad at the obvious hurt in his expression if you weren’t so desperately harnessing your fear to shove it back into the dark corner it crawled from.
Panic squeezes your lungs and denies you access to your own breaths. You think you hear Liz tell Alex’ handler to wait when he goes to grab Alex’ leash but you concentrate on regulating your wheezing breaths, your hand still outstretched to halt Alex.
The golden hybrid looks at you and takes a few small steps on the spot he’s glued to. His nostrils flare and he cocks his head at you.
“You’re afraid of me?” He half asks half states and the devastation in his voice rips your heart right in two. A whine makes its way from his chest and you shake your head. You panic retreating at the need to reassure and calm the hybrid. He did nothing wrong and here you are, hurting him by panicking.
“No! I’m not scared of you.” You say even if you’re not sure whether that’s true. But you need to say something, anything to stop the hurt in his eyes. He cocks his head at you in question.
“Just got spooked from the way your ran at me.”
He visibly perks back up at that, his tail slowly starting to wag again even if it’s decidedly less enthusiastic than before. Then it slowly gains momentum, getting quicker and stronger until his entire body wriggles with his joy and the sight steals a small smile from you.
“I only wanted to hug you. I haven’t seen you in forever. I promise I won’t rush. May I hug you?” He asks with so much hope in his voice that you can’t say no.
Briefly you scan his body language, finding nothing but excitement and restraint so you nod even if the way your blood rushes through you is almost painful.
Alex stays true to his word, slowly steps forward, opening his arms for you and waits until you mirror the gesture. Then he wraps his bulky frame around you, squeezing you to his chest. Immediately he pushes his face against you and takes a deep breath, smelling you. His mustache tickles you and you squirm giggling inadvertently.
He rumbles deep in his chest, huffs in displeasure at your movements which only makes you giggle and squirm more. Your fear slowly retracts its claws from your chest, hissing in displeasure at your entire being remembering Alex as safe.
You can feel him relax right along with you. Until all that is left is warmth and contentment. The close contact to him after weeks of staying away as far as possible from any and all hybrids fills your chest with warmth choking you up slightly. After you allow yourself to bask in his hug for as long as you deem acceptable and after you swallow your tears back down, you step back and shake your head at him fondly.
“You know that this is exactly why you’re still on leash. Always so easily distracted rushing off to investigate whatever scent you caught. Although I’m honored I’m the distraction this time.”
He folds his ears back and the chuckle of his handler reminds you of his and Liz presence. The man, Chad, steps forward and gently cuffs the back of Alex head. The hybrid playfully snaps in the direction of his fingers. You nearly flinch until you remind yourself that this is Alex and he’s just playing.
“Lucky for him we’re not training right now and you’re a very special distraction. It’s good to see you again.”
You remember the day you left Alex as his charge, a mixture of pride and pain in your chest. You’d worked months with Alex after he lost his leg in an explosion during a mission. You’d helped him regain his agility and confidence and it was only normal that you developed a deep bond with the hybrid.
It was always a happy occasion when a hybrid got to go back to having a work handler and you shake Chads outstretched hand with a warm smile. As you make your way into the cafeteria you try to concentrate on Alex and his handler, who’s taken his leash in hand again.
“We get to go back to the real work next week.” Alex tells you puffing his chest and pride blooms in your own chest. You know how much his work means to him and it will be great to see him leave the center after a year and a half of working hard to get back in shape. Still the thought stings a little.
You’ll miss him. He’s been one of your favorite charges and even after you left him in Chad’s capable hands - so they could work and train to become a team while Alex fully regained his abilities - it was nice to meet him in the hallways and outside on the training grounds.
You try to concentrate on the joy instead. He’ll get to go back to doing what he loves and you wonder when you’ll be able to do the same. With the way you currently need to check every hybrid around you for any sign of aggression you don’t see any possibility of you taking on a new charge soon.
With Simon it had been easy. He’d been an emergency which left not enough time to think, to doubt, to get lost in your fear. Now that he’s gone you have too much time to cook up all the worst case scenarios in your head again.
While you try to have lunch without always looking around like a spooked rabbit you get to watch Chad and Alex interact and their easy camaraderie and banter makes you jealous. It makes you overly aware of the fact that you’re unable to interact with a hybrid like that at the moment.
But you love this job. You love working with them and helping them and developing all these bonds. Harshly you stab your fork into the food. Even if it takes forever, you will be able to do it again.
As if to mock you the scar on your shoulder throbs at the aggressive movement and you subconsciously reach up, pressing against it. Alex turns his head towards you from his place besides you. You give him a small tight lipped smile.
He says nothing, but under the table he moves his leg until his thigh touches you and you stare down at the contact.
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The next day you join Alex and Chad while training at their insistence the day before. They’re all too eager to show off their hard work to you and it’s almost mesmerizing the way they clear the obstacle course together.
The centers agility course is a jungle of platforms that are raised over the ground with obstacles in between. The platforms vary from the size of your hand to a square meter and some are slanted to test the balance.
They can be roughly divided into two heights one being a few centimeters above the ground while the second level is mostly at two meters with platforms of varying heights in between. There is no designated path through the course which allows a handler to challenge a hybrid with new angles at already well known obstacles.
The slight tugs Chad gives on the leash help Alex to find the right footing while he concentrates on sniffing out the hidden object. You.
You’re crouched behind an obstacle that’s on the second level, keeping out of sight. You peek at the pair of them moving through the course stopping at a point where you doubled back to confuse Alex.
The single minded focus of the hybrid is admirable but also dangerous out in the field. In the field concentrating on nothing besides what he’s supposed to sniff out means running into the line of fire, stepping onto a contact mine or whatever other horrible things wait for them in the field. That is why he’s connected to Chad with the leash.
You almost shout a warning, your heart leaping into your throat, when Alex lifts his head to track your scent not watching the small platforms under his feet. You can already see his foot miss the next platform but Chad gives a gentle tug and Alex rights his direction without looking down.
His foot finds the platform and you exhale heavily with relief. You can only continue watching in awe. You’d known that Chad was a good handler. While working with Philip you had often seen the two of them train but you always had your own hybrid to concentrate on so you never got to appreciate the incredible team these two make.
Alex finds you easily while Chad watches over him, clearing his path, making sure he doesn’t get hurt while he concentrates on his work and when Alex finds you in record time, you can’t help but clap and holler in excitement.
Chad ruffles Alex hair and the golden retriever hybrid beams with pride. His tail wags a mile a minute and when you’re all back down on the ground he does a few silly circles on the spot giving an excited bark which makes Chad laugh.
A deep feeling of peace settles over you. This is what it’s supposed to be like. A soft smile sneaks onto your lips. Watching Chad and Alex is weirdly healing, reminding you of what a healthy hybrid handler relationship looks like. You have been able to build one with every charge you’ve had besides Phillip. And with him it wasn’t because you didn’t try.
For the first time fear isn’t the first emotion bubbling up when you think about Phillip. This time it’s sadness. In his chase for his independence he sold his soul to someone else. But you don’t think that the proud hybrid realized that. He probably didn’t realize that the gesture of attacking you was empty considering the reasons for it. It proved jack shit. But hey at least he got what he wanted in the end.
Even that thought doesn’t chase the sadness away. So you concentrate back on Chad and Alex and you realize you’re a little less frustrated with yourself when you go to bed that evening. You got to work with a hybrid again and it had went well. Things will get better after all.
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After the day you spent with Alex you come back to work for good. You do not have your own charge at the moment but you try to be useful in every way you can. Instead of working with a hybrid you start helping with the equipment, running errands and giving the other handlers advice that you feel not qualified to give considering how long you’ve been absent and the reason for your absence.
The way you try to avoid running into hybrids makes you feel ashamed of yourself once more but you don’t have it in you to just casually cross paths with them. It’s so stupid, the way one hybrid ruined every hybrid for you. You’re determined to change that, to not see a threat in every hybrid but maybe… maybe not today.
You duck around the corner as you spot a hybrid walking down the hallway with her handler and press yourself against the wall counting down from ten to calm yourself. It’s frustrating as hell that interacting with Alex didn’t magically heal you.
Why could one hybrid not heal the wounds of one other hybrid? Your pulse still jumps at every hybrid you see. You still try to hide instead of normally passing them. And you grow frustrated with yourself. Healing sucks. It’s hard to understand why books and movies always seem to picture it as this magical beautiful journey when most of the time it feels like running in circles and standing in your own way.
How would things be if Simon was still here? Would you walk the hallways unafraid with his large form looming next to you? Maybe if he’d become your charge you would feel better already.
You shake your head. Thinking about that doesn’t help you, you try to remind yourself. Simon’s in England and there isn’t anything you can do.
You peek around the corner, seeing that the hybrid is gone you continue on your way, glad that the tiles help you hear when someone’s approaching. You look at the stack of papers in your arms and almost scoff at yourself. Running errands instead of doing what you actually get paid for.
But with Simon gone you don’t know how you’re supposed to jump into the deep end and take the position as a handler again.
You should have known. You should have known it would come back to bite you in the ass that you didn’t sign the handler agreement. Maybe with that you could have been transferred with Simon and stayed by his side for the time it will take for him to be able to go back to active duty.
Apparently the Doc had asked for the papers that prove that Simon is your charge so she could have you called to the center before he left. When she called the office they had to tell her that no such papers were signed.
You’re lucky that the Doc hasn’t told anyone that you lied to gain access to his medical report. At least you don’t think she has or someone would have approached you about it by now. It still might happen and you’re unsure whether you should talk to her about it before you possibly get a lawsuit.
Thinking about that does nothing to calm your racing heart and you almost flee inside Liz’ office when it comes into view as if her presence will shield you from your own thoughts and feelings as well.
You drop the stack of papers on her desk and she sighs, pushing up her glasses and meets you eyes.
“I should probably thank you but honestly, how dare you bring this to me instead of accidentally spilling coffee all over them.”
Hearing Liz who enjoys the office work say something like that startles a laugh out of you and she grins.
“One of those days?” You ask and she nods, stretches her arms over her head and groans when her back audibly pops.
She takes her smoothie and slurps it through her straw. “You know I looked into it for you. But there is no way for us to obtain any information on Simon’s well being. I’m sorry.”
You plop down into the empty chair before her desk and crane your neck until you’re staring at the ceiling. “Yeah. I already expected that. If only I had signed those damned papers.”
You catch Liz shrug out of your peripheral vision. “Well with the English laws being the way they are it’s not certain that would have done anything either.”
Lazily you let your head roll forward. “Hm?”
“Ah, right. You only do the hands on work. The hybrid-handler laws in England demand the hybrid to sign an agreement too for the handler-hybrid relationship to have legal effect. So your signature alone would probably not give you any information on him anyway.”
“Oh.” You think about it. You know the English laws are different but you never looked into it since they don’t concern you, at least they never did until now. Either way you will never know what’s become of Simon and it frustrates you.
“Well, it is what it is.” You say resigned and put your hands on your knees to push yourself up. If only you could mean that. “Back to running errands I go.”
Before you can leave the room Liz’ voice stops you. “You have to take on a charge again at some point.”
You half turn to her smiling, even though you don’t feel like smiling at all. “Exactly. ‘At some point.’ That point is not now. It’s barely been a few days of me being back.”
She shakes her head at you and you’d be embarrassed or angry at her disappointed expression but you know it’s because she cares. “Why are you so damn hesitant? You were fully ready to take Simon as charge?”
You purse your lips in thought, turning to her fully. “With him it was easy. I didn’t have time to imagine all the things that could go wrong. Just ‘bam here’s this hybrid you have to take care of’. Now that he’s gone I have too much time to think about what it means to take on a new charge.”
Liz clicks her tongue. “Maybe I’ll just drop a hybrid at your doorstep so you don’t have time to think.”
You gasp in mock offense. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me.” She says dryly and you’re not sure if she’s still joking. So you laugh it off while fleeing her office before she decides to make any more valid points.
That better have been a joke or you’d strangle her. And then thank her because thinking about it - dropping a hybrid at your doorstep might actually work. Your close the door, turn to walk back down the hallway and almost walk into Meg from HR.
“Oh good. I was looking for you.”
You gulp. Oh no. Did the Doc rat you out after all? Would they fire you? Shit. You rub your palms against your pants. Did you do anything wrong? What if she knows you lied to get the Doc to talk about Simon? Would they file a lawsuit because of something like that?
“Follow me.” She says curtly and you nod, too startled and scared to get a simple yes out. Walking behind her through the hallway makes you feel like you’re walking to your own execution and you thank whoever is listening that you don’t run into any hybrids. You’re not sure your heart could handle any more anxiety.
The clicking of her door closing while she indicates for you to sit down at her desk sounds like a threat and when you sit you rub your sweaty palms against your thighs.
She sits down on her side of the desk and clicks something on her computer then she looks at you seriously and you feel like you’ll be in serious trouble in a few second. Hopefully you won’t cry, that would be embarrassing.
She sighs. “Do you remember the aggressive hybrid you were called in for from your leave?”
You nod and this time you manage to weakly say: “Yes.” Oh no. Oh no no no no. Pleas no.
She taps a pen against her chin and studies you. “You know we really hoped you could take another charge soon so management isn’t the happiest about it but we were promised a substitute and compensation so we decided to leave it up to you.”
Is she doing this on purpose? Dragging it out? What substitute? What the hell is going on?
“We got a request for you from the center in England he is currently at. They want you to work there with him for however long it takes to get him back on his feet. You’re one of our best even if you’re currently not exactly fitting your job description. I heard you got along well with him.” Something in her gaze softens at her last statement and you release your held breath a heavy weight dropping off your shoulders.
She doesn’t know about the papers. It feels like your heart can finally get a break. But then everything she said hits you and you start nervously bouncing your leg. They requested you? You’re sure they have more than enough handlers at the center he’s currently at. Surely they have competent personnel?
“Why… did they request me?” You carefully ask, not sure you’re allowed to ask any questions. Which is absurd if you think about it because of course you’re allowed to ask questions if she specifically called you to her office to give you a choice.
She purses her lips and twirls the pen in her fingers. “Apparently he’s giving them trouble. They don’t know what to do and found out he was more comfortable with you. Usually they would just give a problematic hybrid like him a medical discharge from his duties but apparently he’s a big enough asset for them to reach out to us.”
You nod trying to understand. What happened? Things hadn’t looked that bad. What had happened that Simon is once again deemed a problematic? Are you willing to go to England for an unknown amount of time because they ask you to? It might be months until he’s rehabilitated.
Your thoughts return to the few moments you had with him. You remember him in the bath, the way he’d let you dry his hair. The way you felt like you might overcome your fear with him. Maybe you don’t have to try with another hybrid. Maybe Simon is meant to be your charge so you can both help each other. This might be what you’ve been waiting for without knowing.
You’re a bit unsettled by how quick you’ve come to your decision. You should probably think this through more but you’d sign the handler papers in a heartbeat. That reminds you…
“What about him? Don’t the laws in England demand that he agrees with me being his handler?”
She nods, rifles through a stack of paper on her table and finally finds what she’s looking for. She folds the stapled stack of papers open on the last page and slides it over her desk towards you. At the bottom two lines for signatures sit.
“He already signed.”
You stare at the line where his name sits in neat block writing. You can’t help yourself but run your finger over it. Your heart thumps hectically in your chest. He already agreed to you being his handler. All you have to do is sign as well. You try to come up with all the logical questions and things that should make you hesitate.
“What about housing and stuff?” You hate how you say ‘stuff’ like you don’t know what you’re talking about. Your thoughts are rushing. You have a hard time getting a hold of them. Taking care of contracts and the whole organizational stuff was never your strong suit. Your strong suit is working with hybrids, at least you thought so until Phillip. But the fact that Simon apparently wants you as his handler makes the smallest bit of confidence grow.
They want you in England because whatever happened makes them think you can help him. Whatever he said makes them think you’re who they have to turn to. You can do this. This is also what the hybrid wants. What will happen to Simon if you refuse?
Meg rips you from your thoughts. “They board and lodge their staff if they chose to live on site.”
You nod and then hold your hand out for the pen.
“Are you sure?” Meg asks and hesitantly gives in to you. You scribble your signature on the line next to Simon’s.
“Yes.” You say. Actually you aren’t sure at all. It’s probably stupid to sign so quickly when you haven’t asked a lot of important questions but if you don’t sign now you’ll think about it and then fear will claw at your chest and prevent you from going for it. Maybe it’s stupid and reckless. But it feels right.
Meg shrugs and takes the paper with your signature back. “Alright. Simon Riley is officially your new charge. They want you over there as quickly as possible so you should take the earliest flight you can. We’ll prepare your papers and request your substitute.”
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Liz is gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckles are stark white. Your knee is bouncing again and she glances at you from the corner of her eyes every now and then. She insisted on driving you to the airport and you’re very thankful despite arguing at first that she doesn’t have to.
“What is it?” You ask and now both your legs are bouncing.
Her hands shift on the wheel before gripping hard again. “Are you sure about this?”
You sigh and put your face in your hands. “No.” You mumble. She has the audacity to laugh at that. You shoot her a look and then start laughing too. What the hell are you doing? You’re about to fly to a whole other continent for a hybrid you don’t even really know.
She shrugs but her hands relax. “We can still cancel it all. I’ll kidnap you, no one will ever know that you tucked your tail and ran.”
That makes you laugh harder and you shake your head resting it back against the headrest. “I feel insane for this but I couldn’t say no. Maybe I’ll end up regretting this but maybe… Maybe everything will work out? What if this is what I need? A problem hybrid in a whole other country who wants me as his handler.”
Liz purses her lips. “I don’t know. I’ve never known you to be so impulsive but if you feel like you have to do this I won’t stop you. But if I receive word that you want to come back and don’t want to do this after all, I’ll terminate the contract and personally come get your ass back to the US.”
You snort at that but something in you calms down. Despite her joking tone you know that she means every word. You look at her for a while and it hits you that you don’t know how long you’ll be in England. Who knows when you’ll be in the same room as her again.
“Thank you.” You say quietly and Liz just nods.
The rest of the ride is comfortably quiet.
At the airport she squeezes you tightly and helps you with your luggage. Before you know it you’re on the plane and taking off. Your whole body starts getting jittery with nerves. You breathe deeply remembering one of the exercises your therapist gave you. She offered to keep holding your sessions online and you’re incredibly thankful for it.
You manage to calm down during the flight and even sneak in a nap, waking up with a racing heart to the announcement that the plane is on approach. As soon as you touch ground and have permission to use your phone you text Liz to let her know that you landed safely.
Half an hour later you’re in a cab going for the rehabilitation center you’ll stay at for an unknown amount of time. You wipe your hands on your pants thankful that the cab driver doesn’t try to make conversation so you can look out the window at the darkness of the evening.
It’s weird to think about how much more of the day Liz has left while it’s already very late evening here.
The street lights illuminate parts of the road and you feel like you’re dying inside from all the uncertainty of what is to come. You wish the drive would never end so you can’t arrive at the center. Alternatively you’d be happy with a concise list of what exactly will happen and who exactly you’ll meet. You get neither an endless ride nor a list. Sooner than you’d like the cab stops and you’re left with your gigantic luggage on the sidewalk.
You sincerely hope no one watches the awkward waddle you do while dragging your heavy bag with you to the front gate. Your wishes go unnoticed because someone approaches you quickly and you straighten up your heart jumping into your throat.
When the person is finally close enough for you to make them out clearly your breath hitches and you can’t help but look at him with wide eyes. He’s a snake hybrid. You’ve never seen one before and even if you’re aware of how rude it is you can’t stop staring.
“Welcome! You’re the handler from America, right?” He greets you and you gape at him nodding. He has a split tongue. The street lamps illuminate him dimly and if you aren’t mistaken the faint outline of scales is visible at his temples and his jaw.
He waits a moment and then slightly squirms under your scrutiny. “Ah. Am I your first snake hybrid?”
That manages to shake you out of it and you nod mumbling an apology. He easily hoists up your baggage onto his shoulder and opens a door in the gate with a key card.
“Don’t worry. I get that reaction with most people. We’re all really happy that you’re here. Simon has been… difficult to say the least.” The snake hybrid goes on and you can’t help but wonder how he knows so much. Who is he? Is he the companion hybrid of one of the handlers here?
You’re staring again while you follow him and his shoulders tense. “Oh! I forgot to introduce myself. How silly. I’m Nathair but please call me Nate.”
You give him your name in return and he stops for a moment to extend his hand for you to shake before continuing his way towards a large building. Before you can get a good look at the way it’s structured Nate leads you through the entrance door and towards a reception desk.
Smoothly he slides behind it sorting some papers and putting them in a folder then he gets a key card and stands again. He extends the folder to you and you take it before Nathair rounds the desk again, takes up your luggage once more and makes his way down a hallway. You hurry to follow.
“Those are some papers we need signed, some information like a map and the rules of our center. I also included Simon’s file.”
Suddenly your interest is piqued. “Where is he?”
Nate turns down another hallway and you already know it will take a while before you’re comfortable with the layout of the center. Thank god for the map.
“He’s being kept in a safety room where he will stay until he is ready to join you.”
“Join me?” You have to jog a few steps to keep up with Nate’s quick pace and when he notices he slows down. Here in the light of the building you can get a good look at him.
He’s magnificent. Broad shoulders, copper coloured hair and a dusting of dark reddish brows freckles that get denser towards his temples and fade into a few scattered scales. His skin is pale and along his jaw fading down his neck you can make out some more scales.
His eyes are big and round and something about them is slightly off. You can’t say exactly what it is though. The hands which are holding up your luggage are strong but slender and on the back of them you can once again see reddish brown scales disappear under his sleeves.
“Yes. Join you. Hybrids and handlers share their rooms here but with Simon being the way he is we didn’t deem it safe enough to bring him to the general housing wing yet. “
Suddenly you feel stupid again. You really agreed too quickly without enough information. You didn’t even know about the rooming situation. You straighten your shoulders. It’s too late now and it’s not like you would decide differently if you were given the choice again.
“This one’s yours.” Nate finally stops in front of a door. Right on the door, engraved in a small plastic plate, is your name. You swallow nervously as Nate unlocks it and puts your baggage down inside against the wall next to the entrance.
You walk in and a small smile blooms on your face. It’s cosy. Not so small that it feels cramped but not big enough to make you feel lost in it either. The curtains are drawn over the windows and there is even a small kitchenette cramped into the corner next to one of the windows.
On the right side nestled into a corner is a decently sized desk and on the left opposite to it is the bed pushed against the wall.
You walk in looking through an open door on the right side at the end of the room. It’s the bathroom. At the far end of the tiled room you see another door. Once you’ve scanned every corner you turn back to ask Nate about the door and you catch him with his split tongue out. He blushes a brilliant red under his freckles and lifts his hand to rub the back of his head.
“Ah… sorry. I was just smelling the room.” He sheepishly admits and you cock your head at him in curiosity.
“I smell better with my mouth and tongue than I do with my nose and I wanted to get your scent.”
You laugh at the embarrassed expression on his face and he turns even redder which makes you shake your head and put your hands up. “No, no! I’m not laughing at you!”
You take a step in his direction. “Nate, I work with dog hybrids for a living. I’m used to being smelled.”
He seems taken aback by that then he grins. “Do you mind then?”
You shake your head and Nate takes a step closer his split tongue testing the air for a few moments before he steps back and nods. “Thank you. Not knowing how someone smells feels like I don’t fully know who they are. Like I never saw a their face.”
You nod. “If I say I understand that I’d be lying because I obviously do not experience these things like you do. But it makes sense, no need to be embarrassed.”
He seems happy with that and looks around the room. His eyes settle on another door in the middle of the right wall. He steps towards it.
“Through this you’ll get to Simon’s room. It’s exactly the same as yours just mirrored. His room also shares the bathroom with yours.”
Ah that’s the other door you noticed in the bathroom. Curiously you open it and look into Simon’s room. Just like Nate says it’s a perfectly mirrored version of yours. But it’s empty and suddenly you can’t stay a moment longer here without having seen Simon. You need to make sure he’s okay.
“Nate. Where is Simon? Can I see him?”
The snake hybrid once again scratches the back of his head. “It’s already late.”
“Please. I need to know he’s okay. I came all this way specifically for him.”
Nate looks at you for a long moment and whatever he sees in your expression makes him sigh and relent.
Your ribcage hurts from the violent beats of your heart as you follow Nate through the building. He leads you down so many turns that you’re sure you won’t find your way back on your own.
The fact that all the hallways look basically the same doesn’t help your orientation but all you think about is seeing Simon again. He’s probably mostly healed by now. Will he be excited to see you? After all he signed the agreement first.
Nate leads you down the corridor to a seeming dead end but when you get closer you see that there is actually a door at the end. You both stop before it and the snake hybrid gets his key card.
“Would you like me to go in first and make sure he’s calm?” He asks and you immediately shake your head.
“It will be fine.”
Nate presses his lips into a thin line but nods and unlocks the door. You wipe your palms on your pants the excitement of seeing him again almost overwhelming you. You’re here and he is here and everything will be fine.
The door opens and you step into the room. Simon’s on his feet at the other end and oh, he looks spectacular. You’ve been separated long enough that his health noticeably progressed during that time.
His ears perk forward and Nate slips into the room besides you, closing the door.
Seeing Simon standing on his own without any struggle fills you with relief and your eyes with tears. Physically he already looks so much better than you remember him and the joy of that realization almost makes you shake.
“It’s you.” He rumbles and you cannot restrain yourself anymore taking hasty steps in his direction. Giddy that he’s alive and on his feet and looks well. Everything will work out after all. You’ll take care of each other.
You realize your mistake too late, blinded by the happiness. Time seems to almost slow to a halt. For a moment Simon’s eyes widen, then his tail bristles and his ears press against his head, his lips peel back revealing his dangerous canines.
Your heart stops but you’re mere steps from him and before you can stop the malinois hybrid charges the last steps that separate you.
“No!” Nate shouts somewhere behind you but you barely hear it over the ringing in your ears.
Simon barrels into you, throwing you to the floor and your head cracks against the tiles making pain explode all over the back of it. Simon’s honey coloured eyes are narrowed in aggression and his growl rattles your bones. His big body presses you against the cold hard floor uncomfortably. Every bone aching from the fall.
His teeth flash and you barely have the time to throw up your arms, crossing them in front of you to shield your face and neck. His fangs sink into your forearm. The intensity of the pain almost makes you cry out and you grunt.
Your eyes widen as you look up at Simon’s expression, nose scrunched as he grinds his teeth deeper into your arm until you feel like he’ll break right through your bones. He’s growling like he wants to kill you. His broad shoulders block out the room behind him. All you can see is his vicious snarl and angry eyes.
For some reason it’s the trickle of blood running down to your elbow that catches your attention. How funny, you think, that your own blood can tickle you like this.
257 notes · View notes
hd-junglebook · 1 year ago
Text
My Sunshine
Part 1 - rewrite of the original
Warnings - pregnancy, flirting, verbal abuse, gaslighting, slight mention of prostitution, unwanted pregnancy, abortion, crying, banana muffins
a:n I'm so in love with the way that this came out, I could literally faint. I want to this man. ferally. In the most respectful way that I can put it. Had me giggling like a SLUT. Like look at that face, come on..
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GIF by jonasiegenthaler
Summary: Y/N reminisces about her past, the faint memory of her hateful mother as reality starts to really sink in. Along comes jack and his giddy smile, eager to get to know our dear sunshine.
Word Count ~ 4k
1 month later
10:00am
The doctor's voice cuts through the heavy silence, their tone professional yet laced with a hint of warmth. "While we wait for the results, can you tell me the date of your last menstrual period and any potential dates of conception?"
Y/N takes a deep, steadying breath, her mind instantly transported back to the haunting echoes of her mother's cruel words. The memories feel so visceral, as if the scenes are playing out before her eyes once more.
"I wish one day, you could see why I raised you the way I did. You're so weak, gullible, and always so goddamn sensitive. It's pathetic, really." Her mother's voice drips with disdain, the familiar sting of her judgement cutting deep.
Y/N can practically feel the weight of her mother's disapproving stare, the contempt burning in her eyes. "Just like your useless father, y/n. You've never been and will never be good enough, not like me."
"You will need me one day, when you have a baby, you're gonna wish I was the one there helping you, holding your hand. But I won't be, because you've always been a disappointment, a burden I never wanted." The thought of facing motherhood without the unwavering support she so desperately craves fills Y/N with dread.
"I hate you, y/n, and I wish I would've gotten rid of you when I had the chance. I never regretted anything more than letting your useless father talk me into keeping you. I lost my whole life raising you - I slaved and sold myself to put food on the table, all for you ungrateful little shits." The bitterness in her mother's voice is palpable, a raw wound that has never fully healed.
Forcing the memories to the back of her mind, Y/N provides the doctor with the requested information to the best of her recollection.
A knot forms in her stomach as the details flow from her lips, a painful reminder of the intimate moments with Jason - moments that had once filled her with such joy and hope, but now only serve to heighten her anxiety.
The doctor nods, jotting down the notes on their clipboard. They continue the conversation, their tone gentle and understanding, offering Y/N a sense of comfort in the midst of the emotional turmoil.
After what feels like an eternity, they excuse themselves to check on the test results. The room falls silent, save for the ticking of the clock – each second a countdown to the life-changing news that awaits Y/N.
When the doctor returns, they have a file in hand. Taking a seat beside Y/N, they meet her gaze, their expression softening with a warmth that puts her at ease, even as her heart races in anticipation.
"Y/N," they begin gently, their voice filled with empathy, "the urine test came back positive for hCG. Congratulations, you're pregnant." The doctor pauses, studying Y/N's face for a moment before continuing. "I understand this may be an overwhelming time, but I want you to know that we're here to support you every step of the way."
Y/N feels her breath catch in her throat, the news hitting her like a physical blow.
Part of her had hoped, prayed, that the results would be negative, that the at home test she took a few weeks ago were wrong, that she wouldn't have to face the daunting prospect of motherhood, especially without Jason's support.
But now, as the reality of her situation sinks in, she can't help but feel utterly alone, trapped in the shadow of her mother's cruelty. Following down the same path she did when she was 18 but only she was 23, grown, and by herself.
"What am I going to do?" she whispers, tears falling to the ground.
A sudden movement in front of her face snapped Y/N out of her trance, her body jolting in response. "I'm sorry," she blurted out, hastily wiping the tears from her eyes.
The doctor slid back onto his stool, a warm smile on his face as he handed her a stack of pamphlets. "I’m very happy for you," he said, mistaking her tears for joy. "Here are some resources for young mothers. I know this must be an exciting, but overwhelming time. Please don't hesitate to reach out if you have any questions or concerns."
Y/N stared at the man, momentarily confused, until the reality of the situation came crashing back.
11:30am
Y/N stood in line at 'The Brew' coffee shop, the warm, inviting aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloping her like a comforting embrace, soft Russian music playing over the stereo. The rich scent of roasted beans mingled with the subtle sweetness of vanilla and caramel, instantly lifting her spirits.
As she waited patiently, her eyes wandered to the man next to her, who seemed lost in thought. He was engrossed in a conversation on his phone, his brow furrowed in concentration, creating a series of deep lines that etched themselves into his forehead.
He shuffled his feet nervously, the movement causing the light to catch on the polished leather of his shoes. His gaze flickered to the menu before him, a brief moment of indecision flashing across his face, and Y/N found herself wondering what could be troubling him.
Unable to resist the urge to learn more, she stole a glance at him, admiring the way the soft, golden light of the café danced across his features. The angles of his jawline were sharp and defined, a stark contrast to the soft, inviting curve of his lips that seemed to beckon her closer.
As if sensing her gaze, he suddenly turned, and their eyes met. In that instant, the world seemed to slow down, the bustling noise of the café fading into the background as Y/N was enveloped in a moment of pure connection. His eyes, a mesmerizing blue, held her captive, sparkling with a hint of mischief that ignited a spark within her.
A confident smile spread across his face, and he leaned away slightly, speaking into the phone. “Alright Lukey, I gotta go.”
"Hey, you're my neighbor, right?" he asked, the recognition evident in his tone. "You live on Baker Street?"
Y/N blinked, surprised by his sudden acknowledgment. "Yes, I do."
Yet, as she spoke, Y/N felt her shyness begin to melt away, like frost under the warmth of his unwavering gaze. There was a magnetic pull to this stranger, an allure that she found herself inexplicably drawn to.
"I'm Jack," he said, extending his hand towards her. His movements were fluid and graceful, his arm cutting through the space between them with a sense of purpose.
As he reached out, Y/N couldn't help but notice the way his fingers flexed, the tendons in his hand shifting beneath his skin like the strings of a finely tuned instrument.
Hesitating for only a moment, Y/N slipped her hand into his, relishing the gentle firmness of his grip. "It's nice to meet you, Jack," she replied, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth as she held his gaze, unwilling to be the first to break the connection.
He leaned against the counter, his gaze locked on Y/N, as if she was the only person in the crowded coffee shop. "I've been wondering when I'd get the chance to officially introduce myself."
Y/N felt her cheeks flush with heat, suddenly keenly aware of his undivided attention. "I, um, I'm not usually one for small talk," she admitted, her words coming out in a flustered jumble.
Jack chuckled, the sound low and rich. "Lucky for you, I more than make up for that." He flashed her a dazzling smile, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. "I'm quite the chatterbox, as I'm sure you're about to find out."
Caught off guard by his confidence, Y/N found herself relaxing, drawn in by his easy charm. As the line moved forward, she fell into step beside him, her shoulders brushing against his as they approached the counter.
"So, what's your order of choice?" Jack asked, his gaze sweeping over the menu. "I'm a bit of a coffee connoisseur myself."
Y/N blinked, momentarily flustered by his proximity. "Um, usually anything caramel flavored, I think," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m leaning towards tea today though.”
Jack's lips curved into a grin. "Excellent choice. A classic, just like you."
"Can I have a banana muffin? And whatever she's getting, we're together." Jack said, flashing the barista a charming smile.
The barista nodded, punching in the order as Y/N stood there, momentarily stunned by Jack's gesture. She managed to give a small smile, her heart pounding erratically in her chest.
"After you," Jack said, gesturing towards the pickup counter. He placed a gentle hand on the small of her back, guiding her forward.
Y/N felt a shiver run down her spine at his touch, her nerves alight. As they waited for their order, Jack turned to her, his sapphire eyes sparkling. “Just a green tea please. And a banana muffin too.” She added, meeting jack’s eyes for a second.
"Such a gentleman," y/n teased. Jack laughed, flashing her a wink. He turned towards the seating area, gesturing for Y/N to follow. "Come on, let's find a cozy spot."
Y/N felt herself being drawn along by his infectious energy, her feet moving almost of their own accord as she trailed behind him. He led them to a small table by the window, pulling out a chair for her before taking a seat across from her.
She didn’t know what to do with herself as she took the seat he offered, settling in across from him. The way he was looking at her, with such open curiosity and intrigue, made her heart race.
"So, Y/N, tell me - what brings you to this fine establishment on this lovely day?" Jack asked, leaning back in his chair and regarding her with a playful smile.
Y/N felt herself relax slightly under his warm gaze. "Just my usual coffee run, nothing too exciting," she admitted shyly.
"Ah, but any day that starts with a chance encounter like this is anything but ordinary," Jack countered, his eyes twinkling. "You've got nowhere else to be, right? No urgent errands or appointments calling your name?"
Y/N shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "No, nothing pressing that I can think of."
"Excellent." Jack leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table as he studied her intently. "Then you won't mind if I take the opportunity to learn more about the mysterious neighbor from Baker Street?"
Jack's eyes crinkled with delight as the barista arrived with their order, setting down a steaming latte in front of Y/N and a banana muffin alongside it.
"Ah, perfect timing," he said, flashing the barista a grateful smile. The scent of the baked treat mingled with the rich aroma of coffee, creating a tantalizing combination that did little to calm her already frazzled nerves.
Glancing down at her phone, she quickly typed out a message to her friend Heather, her fingers trembling slightly. 'You're never going to believe this, but this unbelievably gorgeous guy just bought me a coffee and we're sitting at a table together! I'm honestly freaking out right now - I have no idea what to do.'
She hit send, her fingers trembling slightly as she placed the phone back on the table, unsure of what to do next.
Y/N couldn't help but sneak a peek at Jack, who was leaning back in his chair, a warm smile playing on his lips as he took a contemplative sip of his own coffee. The way the morning light danced across his striking features only served to heighten his already captivating presence.
 "So, Y/N, what do you do for a living?" he asked, his gaze warm and curious. "I have a feeling there's more to you than just your 'usual coffee run'." His gaze latched back onto hers, his eyes sparkling with genuine curiosity.
Y/N felt heat rise to her cheeks at his words, both flattered and flustered by his obvious interest. "Well, I, uh, I sometimes write for a sports magazine," she stammered, her heart fluttering erratically. "And I'm also working on a couple of novels in my spare time."
Jack's face lit up with delight, and he leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table as he studied her intently. "A writer, huh? That's incredibly impressive. What kind of sports do you cover?"
"A little bit of everything, really," Y/N replied, slowly beginning to relax under the warmth of his gaze. "But I do have a particular fondness for hockey as of recently. There's just something about the intensity of the game that I find absolutely captivating. The fighting, the crowd, just a mix of all of it."
"Hockey, you say?" Jack's eyes gleamed with unbridled enthusiasm. "Well, as it happens, I'm a bit of a hockey player myself. I actually play for the Jersey Devils as a defenseman."
Y/N's eyes widened in genuine surprise, her earlier nerves temporarily forgotten. "What! Well, tell me about it. Do you enjoy it?"
Jack chuckled, the rich sound sending a shiver down Y/N's spine. "Well, then I'd be more than happy to regale you with tales of my hockey exploits." He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "But only if you promise to share some of your own stories in return."
She extended her pinky, a silent invitation, waiting for him to entwine his with hers, sealing their promise in a tender gesture.
Jack gently raised his hand to the table, his eyes fixed on hers, as he tenderly entwined his larger pinky with hers, sealing their promise with a heartfelt gesture.
The two fell into an easy conversation, trading stories and sharing their passions. Y/N found herself captivated by Jack's easy charm and infectious enthusiasm, and before long, the lunch rush began to fill the coffee shop.
"Maybe I should let you get back to your day," Y/N said reluctantly, glancing around at the growing crowd, a twinge of disappointment tugging at her heart.
But Jack's eyes held a glimmer of pleading, and he reached across the table, his fingers brushing against hers in a gesture that sent electricity coursing through her veins.
"Or you could stay a little longer?" he suggested, his voice low and hopeful. "I'm quite enjoying our chat, and I'd hate for it to end so soon."
Y/N hesitated, her heart palpitating in its cage. This was all so unexpected, but there was something about Jack that made her want to throw caution to the wind.
Taking a deep breath, she offered him a shy smile, her nerves and excitement mingling in equal measure. "You know, I think I'd like that. And maybe, if you're free sometime, we could, um, grab dinner?"
Jack's face lit up with a dazzling smile. "I'd love nothing more," he said, quickly pulling out his phone. "Here, let me give you my number. I can't wait to take you out."
As Jack typed away, Y/N felt a surge of giddiness. This was all so new and exciting, and she couldn't help but wonder where this chance encounter might lead. One thing was certain, though – she was more than ready to find out.
Jack made her feel - seen, heard, and utterly captivated.
14:00 pm
I debated including this, but I felt so giddy and in love with writing I couldn’t help it. I’m just a sucker for some pure love.
***A gentle breeze caressed her face, carrying with it the scent of springtime The world around her seemed to burst with vibrant color - the lush, verdant hues of the trees, their leaves rustling softly in the breeze.
The myriad shades of pink and purple adorning the blooming flowers that lined the sidewalk, and the vast, azure sky overhead, dotted with wispy clouds that danced languidly across the heavens.
It was as if the entire city had been painted with a master's brush, each detail a testament to nature's radiant beauty.
Reaching into her bag, she pulled out her camera, her fingers trembling with excitement as she began to weave through the bustling streets.
In the nearby park, she captured the laughter of happy families, their faces aglow with pure, unadulterated joy as they swung gleefully on the playground or tossed a Frisbee back and forth, their movements fluid and carefree.
Further down the path, a lonely man sat on a bench, tossing a well-worn tennis ball to his faithful canine companion. As the dog bounded after it, his tail wagging furiously, a warm smile spread across the man's face, his eyes crinkling with a contentment that seemed to radiate outwards, touching all who witnessed the tender exchange.
Y/N couldn't resist the urge to capture these fleeting moments, her camera shutter clicking rapidly as she sought to preserve the beauty that surrounded her.
Every step she took seemed to reveal another breathtaking sight - a young couple sharing a picnic lunch on the lush, verdant grass, their bodies intertwined as they leaned into one another's embrace, and a group of elderly friends chatting animatedly on a park bench, their laughter carrying on the gentle breeze.
Each snapshot felt like a love letter to the world, Y/N's heart swelled with a sense of wonder, her steps light and airy as she continued her walk home.
With each snapshot she captured, she couldn't help but see the reflection of Jack in the scenes that unfolded before her.
The joyful laughter of the families in the park reminded her of the way Jack's eyes had crinkled with delight during their conversation. The lonely man's smile as he played with his dog mirrored the warmth and kindness that Jack had exuded so effortlessly.
And the tender embrace of the picnicking couple evoked the gentle way Jack's fingers had brushed against her own, sending electricity coursing through her veins.
It was as if the entire world had conspired to remind her of the captivating man she had just met, weaving his essence into the very fabric of her surroundings.
Y/N found herself wondering what she and Jack must have looked like, huddled together in the cozy coffee shop, their heads bent close as they shared stories and laughter like old friends.
The thought brought a smile to her lips, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of giddiness at the realization that this chance encounter had the potential to blossom into something truly special. Jack's colors had painted the world around her, and she couldn't wait to see what other hues he might bring into her life.***
14:30 pm
Y/N closed the door behind her, the solid wood frame pressing against her back as she leaned into it, letting out a deep, contented breath.
A smile slowly crept across her face, unbidden and unwilling, as she buried her face in her hands, momentarily overcome by the whirlwind of emotions swirling within her.
Slowly, almost reverently, her hands drifted down to her stomach, fingertips gently caressing the barely-there swell that held the promise of new life.
"Maybe this can be good for us," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking the words aloud would somehow make them more real.
Suddenly, a flash of self-consciousness washed over her, and Y/N felt a flush of embarrassment creeping up her cheeks. Had she really just been giddily daydreaming like some lovestruck schoolgirl?
The moment of levity was short-lived, however, as a familiar voice broke the silence, cutting through the haze of her thoughts.
"You just gonna stand there and be weird, or are you gonna come sit down?" Heather said, a teasing lilt in her tone.
Y/N's head snapped up, a sheepish look crossing her features as she nodded and made her way to the couch, her steps tentative and uncertain. "Sorry, I, uh, I was just..." Her voice trailed off, unsure of how to even begin explaining the maelstrom of emotions that had overtaken her.
Heather watched her fondly, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "You're being strange today," she observed, her tone laced with affection. "But I can't say I'm surprised, considering what you told me earlier."
Y/N could feel the heat rising in her cheeks as she settled onto the cushions, her movements almost cautious, as if she were trying to contain the giddiness that threatened to spill out.
Unable to keep the grin from spreading across her face, she shook her head in a half-hearted attempt to downplay her excitement. "I know, I know," she said, the words tumbling out in a rush. "It's just... I haven’t felt this way in a long time and it’s exciting, you know?"
Heather chuckled, reaching out to give Y/N's hand a gentle squeeze, her eyes crinkling with warmth and understanding. "I can see that.”
19:47 pm
Later that night, Y/N ran her fingers lovingly over the smooth surface of her stomach, the gesture almost reverent as she finished her nightly cleansing routine.
Just as she set down her phone, the familiar chime of a new message caught her attention, and a giddy smile instantly blossomed on her face as she saw Jack's name on the screen.
Sinking into the soft cushions of the couch, Y/N eagerly opened the message, her heart fluttering with anticipation.
"Hey there, beautiful," Jack's text read, the words sending a flutter through Y/N's chest. "I was just thinking about you and that lovely smile of yours. How about we make it a date tomorrow night? I know this amazing little Italian place that I think you're going to love."
Y/N's fingers hovered over the screen, poised to type a response, but a twinge of hesitation gripped her. The news of her pregnancy weighed heavily on her mind, a secret that both excited and frightened her in equal measure.
She knew she should tell him, but doubt crept in, insidious and persistent. After all, she and Jack weren't even officially dating yet. Their relationship, while promising, was still new and undefined.
The thought of burdening him with this life-altering news so early on felt unfair, potentially derailing the tender connection they had begun to forge. What if the prospect of fatherhood sent him running?
Shaking off her doubts, Y/N decided to throw caution to the wind. "A date, huh? Well, you certainly know how to sweep a girl off her feet," she typed, adding a flirtatious wink emoji for good measure before hitting send.
Almost immediately, her phone chimed with Jack's response, and Y/N could practically hear the warmth and charm in his voice. "Only the best for my favorite writer," he replied, followed by a string of heart-eyed emojis. "I'll pick you up at 7 sharp. Dress to impress, beautiful."
Y/N couldn't help but grin, a giddiness bubbling up inside her. "It's a date," she replied, adding a playful wink emoji for good measure.
As she set her phone aside, Y/N couldn't help but marvel at the whirlwind of emotions coursing through her.
Just hours ago, she had been a bundle of nerves, unsure of how to navigate this newfound connection. But now, with Jack's invitation in hand, she felt a renewed sense of excitement and possibility.
Sure, the news of her pregnancy was daunting, but she couldn't help but wonder if, just maybe, this could be the start of something truly special.
After all, Jack had already shown himself to be a charming, attentive, and genuinely interested companion. Perhaps, with a little bit of courage, she could find the right moment to share this life-changing news with him.
Tag List <3
@fearfam69691 @alwaysclassyeagle, @rebelatbay, @dancerbailey3
@snailss, @dasiysthings, @shawnshoney
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mrmoldavite · 8 months ago
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The Main Synastry Overlays & Aspects That Drove My Attraction to Approaching and Speaking to Random Women.
This year, I set myself a mission: to cold-approach every woman that I found attractive—no matter the setting, be it the gym, shopping, public transport, or elsewhere. If your energy drew me in, I wanted to talk to you.
After having established a connection, I’d then dive deeper and analyse our synastry through birth charts.
Here are the key trends I’ve noticed when it comes to attraction and astrology:
1st House Synastry (Time Stops Because We Stand Out)
Immediate and noticeable attraction. Walking into a room and noticing each other felt like entering a spotlight together—undeniable chemistry, as if we existed in our own bubble. We looked good together, Magnetic and undeniable chemistry. Sometimes a little Ego clashes.
2nd House Synastry (Boosted Self-Esteem)
Mutual respect & validation and a sense of value; just talking to each other made us feel confident and seen. Didn't tend to feel a crazy romantic attraction, just more like we're chill with one another. A person you'd smile at, say hello, small talk and wish each other well. Two people simply enjoying each other’s company and building each other up.
5th House Synastry (Energetic, Childlike, Fun Connection)
Vibrant. Fresh. Exciting. Conversations effortlessly turned playful and light-hearted, like our inner child had known each other for years. Felt like a burst of creative energy. Fun, spontaneous dates like bowling, cinema, mini golf, funny conversations over a quick meal. Fun and subtle sexual tension. Situationships or Quick causal light hearted fling.
8th House Synastry (Magnetic Intensity)
Chemistry so palpable, everyone in the room seemed to feel it. Our connection hinted at something primal and raw. Intense sexual tension behind our eyes. Thinking "just you wait and see what I'll do to you". Wanting to f*ck each others souls. Watching each other across the room like a Lion stalking its prey. Can be too intense for those not used to 8th House energy.
11th House Synastry (Instantaneous Friendship Vibes)
The vibe was casual, but deeper connections brewed beneath the surface. We felt like best friends immediately. In the gym for instance we might have ended up working out together, sharing laughs and light conversation. Everything felt easy and natural, with a good surface-level connection that hinted at a deeper, more meaningful bond underneath. Friends with benefits.
12th House Synastry (Past Life Soul Recognition)
I’d feel an inexplicable familiarity, drawn in as if we’d crossed paths in another life. There was depth and intrigue beneath our words. 12th house isn't just hidden enemies seems like people forget that it can also mean a deep feeling of unconditional love for one another. Especially when you're both spiritual beings that have done spiritual inner work. There's no words needed between each other, just an instant subconscious understanding of one another. Eyes are the window to the Soul. Seeing & feeling the spiritual love emanating within each other beyond our physical vessels.
Moon Conjunct Venus (My Moon in Virgo or Venus in Pisces)
Emotional connection blended with admiration. We found ourselves naturally caring about each other’s feelings, even if we’d just met. The kind of tenderness you feel when you see a dog or cat, you just think "awww let me pet you". Naturally supported & fulfilled each other emotionally, with little effort, creating an immediate sense of comfort and trust.
Ascendant Conjunct Venus/Mars (Attention Drawn)
The way we noticed each other was magnetic. My presence caught their eye, and they instantly held mine. It was like a beacon of light drawing us together. The way I moved, spoke, and carried myself seemed to be exactly what they were looking for—and they had the same effect on me. Every glance I'd take of them felt significant, making it hard to look away from.
Sun Conjunct Venus/Mars (Captivating Aura)
Our energies combined in a way that others could sense. I became more aware of my own glow and theirs. Our conversations and laughter seemed to light up the entire room. They saw how my Ego expresses itself as ideal match. Naturally we fit together.
Venus Square Pluto (Intensity)
Strong, transformative attraction that felt like a challenge to resist; conversations and eye contact were magnetic. Feel like I have this aspect with so many people because of my Venus in Pisces in a generation of Pluto in Sagittarius. The Pluto person loves how gracious my Venus placements is, the square makes them feel obsessive, intense and drawn to me. They want to own me.
Lilith in 1st, 5th, 7th, & 8th House Synastry:
A sense of forbidden attraction and untamed energy, manifesting in bold stares and raw authenticity.
1st House; My physical appearance & self expression is just raw and irresistible to them.
5th: Can't get enough of each other. Lots of fun together.
7th: Lilith energy just feels like a perfect fit. What you didn't know was missing.
8th: Knowing how to tap into each others hidden sexual desires. Insatiable.
Conclusion
I won't even front this little experiment/journey of cold-approaching beautiful women and then being able to explore the synastry aspects has been very insightful and has shown me how astrology definitely reflects the connections we feel with others.
Each encounter I had, whether it be brief or deep, has revealed unique chemistry, patterns of attraction and has vastly deepened my real world understanding of astrology aspects.
It’s not even just about charts; it’s about experiencing real connections in the moment. How fascinating it is to be able to experience certain types of bonds and then have the feelings backed up by astrological patterns.
The moments I've experienced have remind me of how the universe aligns energies and paths in such mystical way!
I hope this post was informative.
(P.s. I'm 6'3, have an 8h Venus, Leo Rising & Aries Stellium. My aura and confidence is powerful, which is why I am able to get a lot of attention from women). 😏😉
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reminiscingtonight · 1 year ago
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That's How You Know It's Home
Lia Wälti x Russo!Reader
Word Count: 938
[The Thing About Families Masterlist]
You’re comfortable when you wake. Your face is tucked into a neck, a warm body pressed to your front, fingers gently sifting through your hair. 
You let out a happy hum, the gentle massage doing wonders for your pounding head.
Rarely finding the ability to wake at your own leisure, this is one of the only positive things about finding yourself out with a cold. It’s been only two days, but you’re already finding yourself replenished by the extra hours of sleep.
Another happy noise comes out of your mouth when the hand finds a particularly tender spot on your head. You’re slowly drifting back off to sleep when soft musings hit your ears.
“You’re cuddly when you don’t feel good.”
It’s almost comical the speed at which you throw yourself backwards at the sound of the voice. 
A familiar blonde gives you a toothy grin from across the bed, fingers fluttering in a mini wave. 
“Alessia, what are you doing here?” you groan, fixing your sister with a glare before smashing your pillow across your face. If you try hard enough you might just be able to smother yourself to death.
Deft fingers think otherwise, quick to lift the cushion off your face. 
“I’m here to provide the best care for my favorite sister, of course.”
“I’m your only sister.”
Alessia shrugs. “My point still stands.”
When you finally muster up the strength to get out of your bed, it’s almost as if you’re transported 20 years into the past. You can’t seem to take a step without the shadow of your sister following after you. It starts with your trip to the closet. You don’t think much about Alessia trailing you to grab a change of clothes, but then she bumps into you at least five times as you try to pull your jumper on. 
It only gets worse when you try to make your way to the bathroom. It’s already hard enough to ignore the eyes burning into your face through the mirror as you try to brush your teeth, but the crux of your issues comes when you try to give her the hint to give you space, heavily implying she might be more comfortable waiting on your bed only to be hit with a simple “no thank you, I’m fine here!”
When it looks like she’s going to follow you into the shower you finally put your foot down. 
“I’m sick, not invalid. Let me shower in peace.”
“With Lia out on injury and you being… you,” Alessia ducks to avoid your swatting hand, “we weren’t going to take any chances.”
It takes a minute for you to digest what exactly she’s telling you. And when it sinks in, you know you’re going to regret asking the clarifying question. “We?”
Lia’s waiting in the living room when you and Alessia eventually leave the bedroom.
You’re relieved at first to see your girlfriend hasn’t drifted far, but the good feelings are quick to dissipate at the sight of a familiar menace sitting on her other side.
“Don’t you have a home? Or other Aussies to bother?”
Kyra sticks her tongue out at you, shuffling closer to Lia’s side. 
You give Lia a look but she shrugs. “They brought us pastries.”
“From that place across the stadium?” you raise your eyebrow, noting the logo on the bag set upon the table.
Alessia presses a chocolate croissant in your hand, a kiss against your check, and then slides right into a spot next to Kyra on the couch. “Like I said, anything for my favorite sister.”
You eye the pastry with distrust but begrudgingly take a bite when Lia gives you her perfected ‘mom’ look. “Let me guess. Kim sent the two of you?”
Your sister scoffs. “I take offense to your tone of voice.” 
Alessia falters at the look you give her. Kyra receives an elbow from the forward, something which she responds to with a hard shove. Alessia goes tumbling to the ground, but not before Kyra tries to give you an innocent smile. “Leah sent us!”
Instantly you’re choking, hacking through your mouthful of croissant. Lia gives you a comforting rub on the back, but it does little to soothe your racing heart. 
“Relax babe. Katie sent them.”
“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?”
With a nod from Lia, both Alessia and Kyra go scurrying to your kitchen. You’re too drained to even question what they’re up to, eager to cuddle into the arms that Lia opens for you. 
Lia drops her voice when you get near, making sure she can’t be overheard by the other two. “Don’t tell your sister, but we’re supposed to babysit the two of them. Captain’s order.”
You’re not sure if you’ve heard her correctly, but the grimace on Lia’s face is all you need to know you’ve heard her exactly right. “Babysit?! Babe, you’re injured, I’m sick. Together we’re like half a person at most. How in the world are we supposed to supervise these hyperactive children?”
As if to prove your point, something loud crashes in the kitchen, instantly followed by bickering from the two younger girls.
“Look what you’ve done!” Alessia hisses.
“What I’ve done? You spilled the flour!”
It doesn’t even take a minute before Lia’s sighing and pulling out her phone. “I’ll get some reinforcements.”
---
When you open the door half an hour later to see your vice captain, you almost slam the door in her face. 
“Lia! Adding another child for us to babysit is the opposite of helping!”
In her defense, Leah doesn’t look happy to be here either.
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hexefreya · 7 months ago
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I have spent some time trying to neatly wrap all the facts and details together in a satisfying conclusion, alas, time loop storylines are anything but neat...
Mage Viktor sent Ekko and Heimerdinger to alternate reality 2-7, and it's my conviction it was intentional down to the fact that Heimerdinger was transported three years into the past. And that is why the time loop he created is not actually a circle, it's an 8 (infinity) - two dimensions intertwined, as hinted by the imagery in the show. This way the only way his plan was going to work.
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What we can confidently state is that Mage Viktor, who is inextricably tied to Hexcore, can manipulate it and has power over the spacetime continuum, at least to some extent through the anomaly. And he is going through the painstaking process of figuring out how to successfully untangle the paradox of Hexcore, at the heart of which are Viktor and Jayce. There is no way of knowing how long it took him to realize that willingly erasing himself from existence is the only way it can be done, but it is my opinion that once he was set on this mission, he was very methodical about it and catalogued everything during all the countless timelines and possibilities.
In the alternate reality 2-7 hextech was never developed and this is why this dimension was the one they were sent to - no Hexcore and no Viktor, who could intervene in creating Ekko's time device. But this reality was still touched by Hexcore - Jayce wouldn't even have been alive otherwise - Mage Viktor did save him as a child from the snowstorm. Without adult Jayce the explosion in his apartment, that killed at least one confirmed person (Vi), wouldn't have happened.
But damage is done. And here is where Heimerdinger comes into play to navigate through this turbulent period.
First and foremost he is the Head of the Council at that time, has detailed memory of how badly everything went wrong with Hextech in his own reality and even more importantly - he already spent enough time living in Zaun to understand the errors of Piltover's way in regards to the Undercity. By the time Ekko lands in this alternate reality three years after, Piltover and Zaun are obviously cooperating to the point where everything seems almost idyllic, and I think it's majorly due to the Heimerdinger's guiding hand in immediately destroying anything left from Jayce's research and targeted decisions and careful politics in uniting Piltover and Zaun after the explosion accident (like negotiating with Silco, preventing the first use of Shimmer, etc).
Viktor is incredibly complex, same as his motives. I believe that through everything he was still faithful to his and Jayce's shared dream and passion - help people, do good, make the world a better place with hextech. By sending Heimerdinger in reality 2-7, Viktor made sure hextech is never developed and the city is prospering, thus indirectly using hextech to change the world for the better, honoring best of his and Jayce's ambitions. There was no other reason for Heimerdinger to be sent back in time, he and Ekko would be able to recreate the anomaly with the remaining crystal shards regardless and his main plan would still work. But this way the city is finally prospering, Zaun is thriving!
With Ekko extracting the very last remaining crystal shards, Viktor made sure that this dimension is eradicated of all traces of Hextech. And by taking Ekko back to his own reality, armed with the anomaly (intended to reach Viktor and negate the anomaly in his timeline), Viktor forever closed the linked loop, initially created by him in the first place.
And since we've established Viktor wields the power to send people both ways through time (as demonstrated on Jayce and Heimerdinger), it's easy to assume he could transport Ekko back to his own reality into any specific timeframe he wished, for instance, way sooner than Viktor became the Machine Herald and the situation was escalated beyond reason. Which only circles back to my original take, that EVERYTHING was Viktor's meticulous plan how to erase hextech and to do the most good in the process.
To this I can only add my belief, that Mage Viktor was willing to condemn himself to unbearable pain - Jayce mercilessly trying to kill him without sparing a word (twice) - to create a better outcome in the aftermath of his and Hexcore destruction. And I think he was strongly motivated not only by the greater good, but by ensuring Jayce's survival.
I believe it caused him much distress to bear witness how the only hextech free reality comes from Jayce's demise. I'm sure he was essentially at peace as to what must transpire to himself, but to believe that the "perfect" world is the one where Jayce doesn't exist? He wouldn't do that to his own Jayce. He lost him once, not again. For him Viktor will carve out the world if he has to.
Mage Viktor didn't have a shadow of the doubt that even after these betrayals and horrific transformations Viktor's love for Jayce was as strong as ever. He was confident that Viktor, being reminded of it and thus freed from Hexcore influence, wouldn't even hesitate to destroy himself in order to save Jayce ("You must go, Jayce") and the only world, where Jayce can even exist! Even if it meant that Jayce would hate Viktor afterwards.
It is obvious that our Viktor never even entertained the possibility of his feelings being reciprocated. The sheer disbelief and awe in his eyes, when he dares to believe that he is seen and loved.
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Who knew, that Jayce loved Viktor more than life itself? More than the world Viktor was trying so hard to save him for. Did Mage Viktor? Did he realize the futility of all his efforts in trying to save him, when he looked in Jayce's eyes and saw love reflected there? I think so..
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lustlovehart · 7 months ago
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HI
Che’nya. In the Monster AU. I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU TO PUT HIM IN BUT TOO MUCH OF A COWARD TO SEND AN ASK. BUT HERES A VERY LONG IDEA ASK
So heres my idea: A Kitsune / Cheshire Cat Combo, and considering he’s already canonically overpowered, it’s safe to say he’s insanely op with the Kitsune bonus.
The GOD LEVEL Illusion magic he must have bro, plus the LONG LONG list of the Cheshire Cats abilities with the shorter but still lengthy list of Kitsune abilities? Plus Feline senses? He may be breaching Malleus tier.
But just like in the original game, he’s so unassuming that you don’t notice.
——-
You originally meet him as a stray, strangely colored (purple and magenta obvs) cat and take him in.
However you failed to notice his shadow had nine tails instead of the one.
You were usually more focused on convincing Rollo to stop trying to throw hands with the cat over what seemed like normal (orange) cat shenanigans, although he was convinced the feline was a devil of some sort.
Neige is genuinely….too frightened to say anything? One look into those lamplight eyes and he changes the subject at rapid speed. Maybe he was hoping the cat didn’t lunge for his wings. Yea, thats totally it.
Jacks no better, mostly having staring contests with it and giving you gruff hints that “that cats not what you think it is”, only to be met with the obvious Cat VS Dog (joking) accusations.
It’s not until it follows you to the Hospital that you begin to find out what it..he…both work…truly is capable of.
The shortcut route through the forest usually seemed never ending, slowly warping more and more, only slightly.
On a night you don’t particularly wish to walk, A small door appears in a red oak tree, the Hospitals looming figure on the other side. As you take a cautious step across the threshold, you feel a swirling in your stomach, and a drop.
But sure as hell, you’re at your destination in record time.
Riddle nearly pops a stitch in shock when you throw out the jest on it after a couple months of using it after the incident , that he should of told you there were portals so you didn’t have to walk all the time, and you were grateful for it.
A sinking feeling follows after you discover that there are no portals near the forest, nor nearly any average monsters capable of creating one.
Leona? Maybe. Azul? 60/40 at best. Kalim? Perhaps yes, if someone wished it. Vil? He has to access the hells somehow. Idia? Is it a question, the Underworld doesn’t have an portable elevator, you know. Malleus? Likely but doubtful if he would find the need to. Lilia? Also likely.
But creating portals that are long lasting takes much preparation and choice of location is VITAL.
Making a “casual transport” portal on a whim from a tree? One leading to the hospital? Theres only one person he can think of that’d do such a thing.
You haven’t met anyone named Che’nya, have you? Or Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker?
Are you certain? Positive?
Well, one can never be sure with him. He’s the one, and only, Cheshire Kitsune. A master of magic capable of bending reality itself. He’d seen the man project his face onto the moon itself as a prank. No, he’s entirely quite serious! With Trey as another witness!
After some time, you leave through the portal again, but instead, find yourself in a different forest. One with glowing butterflies, floating lanterns and candles, windchimes and singing flowers.
In a small wooden pavilion, a being waves a clawed and painted figure as he orchestrates their song, humming along and floating casually as the long striped tails of Lavender and Magenta sway in the wind with the long sleeves of his yukata.
On fluffy ears, several earrings rattled as he turned to you, grinning, a mysterious smile within those lamplight eyes that simply screams “I know something you don’t”.
Huh. Where have you seen those eyes before?
Once the “illusion” fades, you’re back where you began, on the other side of the portal.
That night, as you lie awake trying to remember where you’ve seen those eyes, you remain blissfully unaware they belong to the creature purring away in your arms.
——————-
SORRY I YAPPED BUT THERES MY IDEA :D
ENJOY.
AHHH CHENYA KITSUNE CONTENTTTT. I love when people write stuff like this in my inbox, do it more, I’ll eat the writing(⊃。•́‿•̀。)⊃. I like the idea of Chenya being on par with Malleus, the contrast is actually kinda funny! Imagine looking between a majestic Kitsune glittered with tails and fancy ornaments. Meanwhile there’s a moss-covered gargoyle next to him. They’re both op in this scenario, yet somehow the latter still has more power??!!!
(Writing under cut)
(Sprinkling some ideas of the Nekomata from last ask…) Kitsune + Nekomata is truly a fun mix.
I imagine here, your first meeting with Chenya isn’t actually in his cat form, but rather when you come across a wounded civilian slumped against a tree. If you looked down his shadow definitely would’ve betrayed his true nature, but you’re much too caring to pay attention. He’s immediately hooked the moment you touch him, his once round eyes quickly slimming into slits before reverting. Your touch is so soft… but all humans are. What truly attracts him… from the smell of it he can tell you’ve hunted low ranks monsters before. Yet here you are, restoring the health of a mysterious monster NRF hasn’t even documented!
When you leave him, he’s quick to follow the trail, appearing as a purple cat the moment you step foot on Rollos doorway.
The add ins of other characters is so fun!!! Imagining Rollo and his work husband monster hunter reflexes immediately having him reach for his weapon and swatting at the feline like a fly. You watch as it dodges with a speed and precision so unlike a cat. Rollo being jealous over the stupid pest you took in… It’s truly unfair, now all your attention is given to the wretched monster instead of bathing him with your affection. (He knows simply bc he’s one too, but telling you that would most definitely give him away.) Rollo acts more like the neglected wet cat that it does, it’s quite funny. If you attempt to cheer him up, resting your head on his shoulder like usual, he’ll smile before getting clawed by the magenta animal that splits you up.
“Truly… You actually enjoy this thing??”
Neige, Neige, Neige… He feels some sort of connection to the purple fur that lays in your lap, as if he’s met the thing before… Perhaps in another life? But, he can’t help but feel a little scared when he mistakes the cats cuddly ministrations for affection, instead of deception. He tries petting it and instead it jumps on his wings, as if attempting to claw off all the white from his wings. Neige has never been hated by animals before, so he feels guilty when he has to throw it off, but… if it went any further there’s not doubt you would notice black feathers hidden among the ivory. He stares at it dead in the eye ready to sweeten his transgression with an apology. He backs off when yellow eyes peer at him with the intelligence of something much higher than a cat. Oh yeah no that’s definitely a monster.
“Uhm, maybe we should find a different owner…? I don’t want you to overwork yourself! You have so much work in yourself from your job and and…! Oh, you don’t want to…? I see…”
Jacks a funny case, he doesn’t have the traits of a werewolf as he’s entirely human (totally), but the countenance of a dog still could be used to describe him. The way he guards you, the way he seems so happy when you appear (despite his face, if he had a tail, everyone knows it would be wagging the moment you get there.), even to the way he responds to your praise.
“Amazing job Jack! The way you got rid of them so fast was so—!”
The purple cat you took in jumps out into your arms, shutting your compliment down as quick as it came. You left it at home… How is it in Jacks room??
Jack doesn’t realize the way he snarls at the feline with a ferocity you only see when he’s working. It’s only when you pull his ear does he snap out of it.
Ahhh!!! Riddle fawning with worry at your confession. Portals?? His doctorate skills have him vicariously checking all parts of your body. Looking at skin for any sign of bruises, lumps, possibly even curses. You’re left dazed wondering how him just touching your body has anything to do with these portals, but then he cautions you with flick of the forehead (If you were anyone else he would’ve done something much harsher, but this is you).
Going through the list of Monsters capable of magic is an exhausting endeavor… Then the name Chenya appears and you’re wondering if it’s some demon.
AHH! and then meeting him? The area is so tranquil, and then you see some man standing on water, multiple tails flailing around.
Before you know it, the ominous saying leaves his lips, and he stands only inches away from your face, those sharp claws tracing a light pattern on your cheek. Disappearing quickly into the night…
And then you wake up, but rather than finding the stray cat you’ve been caring for… there’s a knock on the door, and when you open it, a familiar magenta man stands at the entrance. You can’t quite place it… but you recognize him. Thought you swear he wasn’t a human, you think.
Also, Don’t ever worry about yapping in my inbox!!! It might take awhile for me to answer, but I promise i see your rambles and love them!!!
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ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes · 4 months ago
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Valentine's Day
pairing: steve rogers x fem!wife!reader
genre: fluffff
requested: yes
el's thoughts: a verrrryyyyy late valentine's day fic but here you gooo haha
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Steve and Y/N’s love story was one of patience, devotion, and an old-fashioned kind of romance that made even the busiest Avengers stop and notice. They met shortly after Steve had adjusted to the modern world—Y/N was an agent working alongside S.H.I.E.L.D., someone who had always admired Captain America for more than just his reputation. She saw the man behind the shield, the soldier with a heart too big for the battles he had to fight.
Their connection was instant but slow-burning. Steve, ever the gentleman, took his time courting Y/N, despite how much she teased him for it all being very old-fashioned. Writing her letters even when texts would have been easier, bringing her flowers "just because," and insisting on walking her home no matter how many dangerous missions they'd both survived. She adored his kindness, his sense of duty, and the way his blue eyes softened whenever he looked at her.
After a few years of dating, Steve proposed in a way only he could—under the stars on the Brooklyn rooftop where he once dreamed of a life beyond war. They got married with a small ceremony, surrounded by friends who had become family. Life as Steve Rogers' wife came with challenges of its own, but Y/N never wavered in her love for him. She made sure that Steve, the man who had sacrificed so much, always felt loved, cherished, and seen.
~
Valentine’s Day had always been something Steve Rogers liked to keep simple. A quiet dinner, maybe some flowers, but nothing too extravagant. Y/N, however, had different plans this year.
She wanted to give him a night to remember—something reminiscent of the 1940s, a time Steve still held close to his heart. So, she went all out. A candlelit dinner, a tailored suit just for him, a beautifully decorated space with red and gold accents, and even a dance floor set up in their living room with a playlist of old jazz classics. She told him to come home dressed in his black suit. That was her only hint at her surprise for him. 
When Steve walked through the door that evening, his blue eyes widened in surprise. “Doll… what’s all this?”
Y/N grinned, stepping forward to greet him with a soft kiss. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Steve.”
He looked around, taking in the roses, the table set for two, and the soft glow of string lights overhead. “You did all this… for me?”
“Of course, I did. You deserve to be celebrated, too,” she said, smoothing her hands over the lapels of his suit. “I even got you this.”
She held up a neatly wrapped box, and Steve carefully unwrapped it, revealing a vintage pocket watch. His fingers traced over the engraving on the inside: My heart, forever yours – Y/N.
Steve swallowed hard, his throat tight with emotion. “Doll… this is…”
“Do you like it?” she asked softly, searching his face for a reaction.
He nodded, pulling her into his arms. “I love it. And I love you.”
Dinner was filled with laughter, conversation, and reminiscing about stories from the past. But the real magic happened when Y/N reached for his hand and pulled him toward the small dance floor.
“May I have this dance, Captain?” she teased, her eyes twinkling.
Steve chuckled, shaking his head fondly. “I think I’m supposed to ask you that.”
“Well, times have changed,” she said, stepping closer.
With a small smile, he placed his hand on her waist while she rested hers on his shoulder, and together they swayed to the soft sounds of Ella Fitzgerald. It felt like they had been transported back in time, just the two of them in their own little world.
“You always make me feel like I belong,” Steve murmured, resting his forehead against hers.
“You do belong,” Y/N whispered. “Right here, with me.”
He kissed her then—slow and deep, pouring every ounce of love he had for her into that moment. When they pulled apart, he grinned. “Best Valentine’s Day ever.”
Y/N smirked. “Good, because next year I might just top it.”
Steve laughed, spinning her around before pulling her back into his arms.
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foreverisntenough · 8 months ago
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‘Act II’
Summary: Attraction is like a gravitational pull that is undefinable and unavoidable. Unbeknownst to you, Jude had been keeping an eye on you since he caught a glimpse on his best friend’s girlfriend’s Instagram but he’s been loving his single life. You always were independent and know how to swim on your own but maybe you have been just treading water. Could the tides change on a holiday in Greece when you finally meet? It might get a little rocky but maybe you could be his paradise.
Index
Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI
Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! ‘Act II’ is interconnected to the 'You’re Mine' and 'Ours' Series but can read it independently.
P.S. Thank you so much for completing this series. 'Act II' has been a massive labor of love and so much fun to write. I hope you have enjoyed all 25 chapters! ... The End.
The Final Chapter | Chapter 25- 'Fiancé' | ‘Act II’
word count - 11.9k
The next morning, the trip carried on, and you were headed back to Spain. Jude surprised you with a visit to a museum that had captured your heart since he had first taken you there. The moment you stepped inside, the familiar scent of polished wood and aged paper enveloped you, instantly transporting you to a place where art and history intertwined in a beautiful dance. He’d set up another private evening there. It was different though. This wasn’t a big show, this was calm, this was you, this was you and Jude. The viewing felt intimate, just the two of you wandering through the expansive halls, surrounded by masterpieces that had sparked countless conversations between you. You didn’t know why things were so good lately between you two but you weren’t complaining about these moments. As you strolled together, Jude glanced around in awe. 
“I can’t believe I’ve gotten to a place in my life where this is what I want to do in my spare time,” he said, a hint of disbelief in his voice. “I used to think I’d want to be at home playing video games with Toby, but now…” He trailed off, his gaze shifting back to you, warmth in his eyes. “I genuinely…” He sighed. “I just want to be in these halls with you, angel.” His words wrapped around your heart like a warm embrace, filling you with a sense of joy. You paused to admire a vibrant painting, the colors almost pulsating under the soft lighting. 
“I love that you want to share this with me,” you replied, turning to meet his gaze. “Art has a way of connecting people, don’t you think?” You asked sweetly, trying to reassure him it was okay to have that change of preference. 
“Yeah, think so. Didn’t know that before though,” he agreed, stepping closer. “Can you talk to me angel… I know it sounds stupid but I want to hear you talk about it all—about color theory, the way you see things. I know I talk a lot,” he said, a teasing smile creeping onto his face, “and ironically, I’m doing a lot of talking right now, aren’t I?” He asked you with that signature Jude smile that always got him out of any trouble. You chuckled, shaking your head as you stepped in front of a piece that caught your eye. 
“You’re not wrong, you talk a fucking lot…but it’s okay. I love hearing your thoughts, too. I like when you talk to me too. Just… maybe let me get a word in if you want to hear about something” You teased. He laughed, holding up his hands in mock surrender. 
“Okay, okay! I’ll try to give you a chance to share your brilliance with me. This one…” He pointed to abstract painting littered in colors. “What’s all this about?” He asked. You couldn’t help but grin at his playful banter, the way he made light of his own chatter. 
“You know, there’s so much more to this,” you said, gesturing to the painting. “Every brushstroke has a purpose, and the colors evoke emotions that can be incredibly powerful. It’s like they’re speaking a language of their own.” Jude leaned in closer, his attention fully on you. “Sorry…” You started to giggle hiding in your hands embarrassed by your own pompousness. 
“Nah, baby, keep going, I want to hear everything you have to say. Your opinions, what you love and what you hate about the art… about the world. It’s all so much more interesting than anything I could come up with,” he admitted, sincerity shining through his playful demeanor. You felt a rush of warmth at his words, knowing how much it meant to you that he truly valued your insights, whether or not he knew what the fuck you were talking about was besides the point. He was listening. He cared.
“I just think art like this is such a reflection of life,” you began, your voice steady as you delved into your thoughts. “It can tell stories, evoke feelings, and even challenge perceptions. The way colors interact with one another can create a mood, a feeling that resonates with people on different levels. Like what you think when you see a color versus what I feel when I see one.” Jude listened intently, his eyes never leaving your face as you spoke. You could see how much he cherished these moments, how he wanted to understand the world through your lens. This wasn’t his world but you were. 
“That’s beautiful,” he said softly, his admiration evident. “I love how passionate you are about this… I like that you like something like this. I know we’ve talked about this before but it’s how I feel about footie, like the history and why things happened matter. But this…” He gestured to the art. “This I don’t understand but I like learning from you.” Jude explained and you nodded in agreement.  As you moved through the galleries, you pointed out various pieces that sparked your interest, each one igniting a spark of excitement in your chest. Jude’s questions were thoughtful, encouraging you to dive deeper into your analyses. The two of you debated the meaning behind a particularly abstract piece, your voices mingling with the silence. The more you talked, the more you felt the connection between you deepening. It was as if the walls of the museum weren’t just housing art; they were enveloping your relationship, wrapping it in layers of shared experience and understanding. Each new exhibit was an opportunity to explore not only the art but also each other’s minds.
“Honest, I know I said it before but I never imagined I’d be having conversations like this,” Jude said, a hint of wonder in his voice. “This is what I want to do—explore, learn, grow. With you.” He spoke like this with you often but… it just felt different. You felt a flutter in your chest, a sense of belonging that only seemed to strengthen as you continued your tour. 
“I want that too, Jude. This—sharing something I’m care about with you—it makes everything feel more complete.” He smiled, and you could see the appreciation in his eyes. 
“You give me a reason to want more, to see things differently. It’s inspiring.” As you stepped into the next gallery, you knew this was just one of the countless adventures you would have together, discovering new art and each other in the process. And with Jude by your side, every moment felt significant, filled with the promise of what was yet to come.The museum’s grandeur surrounded you like a quiet hum, the towering ceilings and pristine walls filled with centuries of creativity and stories. Your footsteps echoed softly as you and Jude strolled through the vast, quiet space, but the world outside felt far away. It was just the two of you, wandering through an endless gallery of masterpieces, each more breathtaking than the last, though none more captivating than the feeling of his hand wrapped securely around yours. Jude had gone unusually quiet, his gaze flickering between the art and you, as though trying to absorb everything at once. You stole a glance at him, catching the light frown of concentration on his face before he turned to you, his eyes soft. 
“Do you ever think about having one of your pieces in a place like this?” he asked, his voice casual but tinged with sincerity. You laughed softly, shaking your head. 
“It doesn’t work like that, Jude,” you replied, your voice warm with amusement. “It’s not really the goal. You don’t just…get your art in a museum.” He stopped walking and turned fully toward you, his eyes narrowing playfully. 
“I don’t know,” he said, feigning contemplation. “I think I could pull a few strings.” Rolling your eyes, you nudged him lightly with your shoulder. 
“Please. You’re not that big of a deal.” He grinned but didn’t let go of the thought. 
“Nah, not yet, but for you angel. I’d sort it…” he teased, pulling you closer as the cold air from the tall windows brushed past. His arm wrapped snugly around your waist, anchoring you to his side. You continued walking, but his words lingered between you, and you knew there was something deeper behind them. “It’s just that…” Jude’s voice softened, his gaze returning to the paintings around you. “I think there’s something beautiful about the idea of being remembered like this. I wish footie could be cemented like this. That the art, the artist, all of it becomes part of history. It’s admired, preserved—kept safe. ” He turned to you again, his eyes searching your face, a new intensity there. You felt your breath catch, and suddenly, you weren’t talking about art anymore. You felt that way. That might have been your favorite part of museums. It felt like a dormitory for artists with infinite leases on life.  Jude’s words held more weight than the fleeting conversation about museums or paintings. They were about something bigger—something that made your chest tighten in the best way.
“I agree, baby. Are you just saying that… or…” you asked hesitantly, your voice barely above a whisper. You asked nervously, curious and hoping that this wasn’t just a blip that someone might have finally understood why the juxtaposition of the impermanence and permanence in art was so amazing and yet he was throwing you in with it all.  Jude smiled softly, stepping in closer, his hand finding its way to the small of your back. 
“What I’m saying is that you’re like my piece of art,” he said, his voice tender. “I want to keep you safe, to admire you every day, to learn every little detail about you—like the way people do with paintings. They don’t just glance at them. They study them. They see something new every time… they love them… forever” His fingers lightly traced a line along your arm, his touch gentle, reverent, as though you were the most fragile and precious thing in the room. “And at the end of it all,” he continued, his eyes locking with yours, “I want to make sure the signature at the bottom is mine.” His hand lifted, mimicking the motion of signing his name across your skin, his touch so light that it sent a shiver down your spine. You could feel the signature you’d seen thousands of times drag across your skin. It felt like a vow, a promise that extended far beyond words, deeper than any conversation you’d ever had. Your throat tightened, emotion welling up inside you. You swallowed hard, blinking back the sudden sting in your eyes. 
“I like that,” you whispered, your voice catching. “Maybe just being yours is the only goal that matters to me.” Jude’s expression softened even more, a flicker of something vulnerable passing through his eyes before he leaned down, pressing his lips gently to your forehead. The kiss was soft, lingering, a silent affirmation that said more than any words could.
“Not theirs,” he murmured, confirming, his breath warm against your skin. You knew he meant the world—the prying eyes, the public, the constant scrutiny that came with your lives. “Just mine.” He double downed. You nodded, resting your head against his chest as you stood there in the center of the gallery. The art around you seemed to fade into the background, as though the masterpieces on the walls were mere echoes of the feeling that coursed through you in that moment. You weren’t just two people standing in a museum; you were something more—something eternal, like the art itself. After a while, you pulled back slightly, looking up at him with a small, almost bashful smile. 
“I never thought I’d find someone who made me feel this way,” you said quietly. “Like I’m something worth protecting.” Jude’s eyes softened further, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly across your skin. 
“You are,” he whispered. “You’re the most precious thing in my life.” The sincerity in his voice made your heart swell, and you felt that familiar warmth spreading through you, the kind that only Jude could give you. It wasn’t just love—it was deeper than that. It was the feeling of being cherished, of being seen, of being held as something irreplaceable. And for the first time, truly, standing there in that gallery, you felt truly at peace. It didn’t matter what the world outside thought, or how chaotic life could be. Jude was your safe place, your home. You realized that wherever you went, whatever happened, as long as you had him, you had everything you needed.
“Jude… I think I need this forever… you forever,” you whispered, glancing around the museum. “Here and everywhere.” You clarified for him. Jude’s lips curled into a small smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he pulled you close again. 
“I promise, angel. I am going to give you forever.” Jude whispered gently. Your heart felt like it momentarily stopped beating. “You will never have to need it, because I will give you this every day of my life,” he said, pressing another kiss to your temple, “every day of your life you will have me in every place.” And in that moment, surrounded by centuries of art, you realized that no matter where life took you, Jude would always be yours and you’d be his. And the world—its eyes, its noise—didn’t matter. What mattered was this. Him. You. The quiet spaces in between where love lived, where you both flourished.
The exhaustion from all the traveling had finally caught up with you as you made your way to the next place. Your body ached, and the thought of another country, another stop on Jude’s whirlwind schedule, seemed unbearable. As the plane touched down in Greece, you leaned back into your seat with a sigh, feeling the weight of it all press down on you.
“Jude, I’m so tired,” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes. “Why are we here?” You complained. Jude glanced at you with a soft smile but didn’t offer much in response. You frowned, slightly annoyed. “No, seriously, baby,” you pushed, adjusting your seat belt as the plane rolled down the runway. “Do you actually have work here? Like you in Greece? Is this another shoot or meeting or whatever? Because I still have my bags from New York. This is getting out of hand.” You whined. You were half-joking, but the weariness in your voice gave you away. You momentarily stopped in Madrid but not long enough for you to even unpack your toiletries. Jude reached over, squeezing your hand in that way he did when he wanted to calm you, but the mystery of it all was starting to wear thin. The car ride from the airport didn’t help either. You were too tired to really take in the scenery, the familiar landscapes of Greece passing by like a blur. You stared out the window, trying to piece together why Jude had dragged you here of all places. You couldn’t place how he could possibly have work here. It didn’t make sense. But then, the car slowed, pulling up to a secluded villa perched on a cliff overlooking the sea. Your brow furrowed as you glanced at Jude, still not fully understanding what was happening. But as soon as you stepped out of the car, things began to click. The moment the villa came into view, the memories hit you like a wave, flooding your mind with nostalgia. This was the villa — the place where you and Jude had first met. “Oh my god…” you gasped, the sight of the villa hitting you like a tidal wave of nostalgia. “Wait—this is where we stayed, baby!” You yelped, tiredness leaving your body. Memories rushed back, vivid and overwhelming. You could see it all—Whitney, Trent, the laughter, the late nights, the conversations that stretched until dawn. This was where it had all started, where you and Jude had first properly met. You grabbed Jude’s arm, pulling him closer as you took it all in, your heart racing with a strange mix of disbelief and excitement. “I can’t believe this. Do you remember this? This is where we stayed, where everything started. This is wild. Is this actually a coincidence or did you know?” Jude hummed in response, feigning surprise, but you caught the subtle smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. 
“So fucking crazy, what are the odds” he murmured, pretending to be as shocked as you were, but it was clear he’d planned this all along. You turned to him, eyes wide, still processing it all. You could sense his tone was a bit facetious. 
“Jude…seriously…did you plan this?” You asked. He shrugged, that smirk now fully visible.
 “Maybe.” He cooed with a glint in his eyes and you felt a bit of nausea washing over you. The exhaustion from the flight still hitting you hard now laced with fear. You were still processing all the travel and back-to-back commitments, so when you realized where you were, confusion quickly had settled in. Confusion, wondering if your traveling had even been for his work at all. You stood frozen, your brain struggling to connect the dots, unable to fully comprehend why you were back here after all this time. Jude watched as the realization slowly escaped you, the shock plain on your face. He couldn’t help but laugh softly at your speechlessness. He approached you with that same boyish charm that had first drawn you to him, his smile growing wider as he gently pulled you into his arms. “Come on, angel,” he whispered into your ear, swaying you gently as his arms wrapped around your waist. “Will you come with me?” He asked gently and patiently. You shook your head, still too stunned to move, your emotions all over the place. 
“I… I can’t,” you stammered, still in disbelief. You had a hard time understanding what the fuck was happening. You were stunned, like a deer in headlights. Jude laughed again, pressing soft kisses against your neck in that playful way that always made you melt. He swayed with you, his warmth so familiar, so grounding. His lips grazed your skin once more, and you could feel him smile against your neck as he teased.
“Please?” His voice lilted into a sing-song, pressing another kiss to your neck, each one softer and more coaxing than the last. You giggled despite yourself, the sound breaking the tension. 
“Jude…” you whispered, your voice shaky with a mix of nerves and affection. You could feel yourself softening, your body relaxing into his. He kissed you once more, a bit more cheekily this time. 
“Please, angel?” he asked again, his lips lingering just long enough to make you giggle through the overwhelming emotion. Finally, with a soft sniffle, you nodded, resting your forehead against his chest for a moment. 
“Okay,” you whispered, your voice still thick with emotion. You weren’t sure what was about to happen but in that moment, you felt safe in his arms, ready to follow him anywhere. You had an inkling  but you couldn’t disillude yourself. Jude grinned, pulling back just enough to look at you, his hand gently wiping away the small tear that had escaped down your cheek. 
“Let’s go, angel,” he said softly, taking your hand as he led you toward the back garden of the villa, the sun casting a golden glow over the shoreline, setting the perfect scene for what was to come. He walked you down the grand staircase.  The beach was calm. Empty so although it was clear that this wasn’t some sort of photo shoot for Jude’s work, you weren’t sure what was going on, you couldn’t believe it. Jude’s hand was wrapped tightly around yours as he guided you down the stairs, carved into the cliffside. Each step brought you closer to the beach, where the calm waves lapped gently against the shore. There was a soft glow over everything, the pinks and oranges of the sky blending into the horizon like a painting. You hadn’t questioned it at first but now, the villa, the quietness of the beach, and the absence of a crew—all of it seemed terrifyingly anticipatory. In fact, you had thought this was going to be just another thing Jude’s had to do for work. You assumed maybe he took it because it could overlay as a moment for the two of you to steal away together. But there was something about the air that felt different right now, something almost charged, though you couldn’t quite place it. Something much bigger than a moment away. But you needed to act normal, if it was nothing, like it had been for days you didn’t want to feel disappointed… and if it wasn’t, you didn’t want to ruin Jude’s plan. As you reached the bottom of the staircase, you let go of Jude’s hand walking a bit further before you plopped down in the sand with a sigh, smoothing out the fabric of your dress. The remnants of the day’s heat lingered in the sand beneath you, warming your legs. You looked up at Jude and smiled, extending your hand to help him sit beside you.
“Baby,” you teased, “you’re not going to make me sit here alone, are you?” Jude smiled nervously, his gaze flickering between you and the horizon as he sank down beside you.  The sand shifted under his weight, but he seemed restless, like something was bubbling beneath the surface. Both of you awkwardly expectant of something. He was trying to act natural, but his efforts were making him act entirely not. But putting nerves aside, you leaned into him, letting your head rest on his shoulder, oblivious to the storm of thoughts running through his mind, focused on your own. For a moment, you sat in a comfortable silence, the sound of the waves lulling you into a trance. But then, faintly carried on the breeze, you heard music. Not just any music—your favorite song, but played by a small orchestra. You frowned, sitting up slightly. “Is that…?” you began, turning your head to listen more closely. Jude’s smile grew, though there was something tight about it, like he was holding his breath. “Whoever is listening to that,” you murmured, “they’re lucky.” You had let yourself fall into ignorance, you couldn’t think straight. There was no way this was happening so the only option you had was to focus on the present moment, and the present moment was pretty perfect, one you didn’t want to leave. 
“Yeah,” he said, his voice a little unsteady. “They are.” Jude chuckled softly, his hand finding yours again, squeezing it gently.  You didn’t notice the way he inhaled deeply, as if bracing himself, or how his thumb brushed nervously over your knuckles. You were too distracted by your thoughts blurring with the music, the soft notes floating through the air, the beauty of the moment. He let you sit there, hoping you thought it was all a coincidence, just a beautiful, serendipitous afternoon on the beach. Maybe in retrospect you should’ve put it together but you couldn’t wrap your head around the possibility. It was too scary. Jude’s heart was racing, pounding against his chest like it might burst. This wasn’t just any moment—this was the moment. The orchestra’s music swelled in the background, perfectly timed with the setting sun, casting the scene in a golden glow. Jude shifted beside you, his grip on your hand tightening slightly, and you finally glanced over at him, noticing the tension in his posture.
“Jude?” you asked softly, your brow furrowing as you caught the nerves in his eyes. “What’s going on?” He opened his mouth to respond but seemed to catch himself, exhaling slowly instead. He looked away for a moment, out toward the water, gathering the words he’d rehearsed a hundred times in his mind. But now, sitting here with you, in this moment that felt impossibly perfect, every practiced line seemed to slip away.
“I’ve been thinking about this for a long time,” Jude began, his voice barely above a whisper. You felt a shiver run down your spine, not from the afternoon breeze, but from the tone in his voice. Something was happening. It was happening. 
“What do you mean?” you asked, your heart starting to race as you sat up straighter. Jude smiled softly, his eyes full of something you hadn’t seen before, something deeper. 
“This place, this villa, this beach—it’s where everything started for me. And I’ve been thinking… maybe it’s the perfect place for something new to begin.” He reached into his pocket, and your breath caught in your throat. The realization hit you all at once, like a wave crashing over you, and suddenly, the music, the sunset, the villa—it all made perfect blissful sense.
“Jude…” you whispered, your voice trembling, almost cautioning him. 
“Angel, c’mere.” He grabbed your hands and pulled you up. Your breath hitched as Jude asked you to stand. Your legs felt shaky beneath you, and your heart pounded in your chest as things slowly began to click in your mind. Everything—the whirlwind of travel, the quiet dinners, the significant places, the sudden romantic gestures—it wasn’t work. It was you. It was your relationship, played out place by place, word by word. Jude’s hand was warm around yours, grounding you as you watched him slowly descend to his knees in front of you. The world around you seemed to blur, your vision narrowing to the boy in front of you—tall, tan, and brighter than the sun itself. The golden light of the setting sun washed over him, illuminating his features, making him look almost ethereal. You felt like you were going to black out. Your mind raced, each realization hitting you like a wave—this was what all of this had been about. “You’re my world,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “You’ve changed everything for me, and I can’t imagine my life without you. I don’t want to.” He cooed softly. Tears welled in your eyes as you watched him reach into his pocket, his gaze soft and steady, you shook. Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill as the magnitude of the moment fully sank in.  “All the places…” he kept speaking, his voice barely a whisper, cracking under the weight of his emotions. “Every stop, every country…” Jude smiled softly, his eyes never leaving yours. “It’s you and me, forever, Angel,” he said quietly, his voice full of love, as steady as the waves in the background. Your tears slipped down your cheeks, and a choked laugh escaped your lips as you tried to process everything. 
“I just thought you really liked me and wanted me there for work,” you interrupted him unable to help yourself, your words broken by the overwhelming emotion swelling inside you. Jude shook his head, his smirk filled with affection, with knowing. 
“No, angel” he whispered, still kneeling before you. Every breath seemed too shallow, and your hands trembled as he finally pulled out a small, velvet box, his hands shaking ever so slightly as he held it out in front of you. “It’s you and me, anyplace, anywhere. That’s all it’s ever been. That’s all it’s ever going to be.” His words wrapped around you like a blanket, warm and comforting, the moment became surreal as he opened the box. Inside was the fattest diamond you’d ever seen, sparkling brilliantly in the fading light of the day, reflecting the hues of the setting sun. It was breathtaking, but not as much as the man in front of you, kneeling there with his heart laid bare. “Will you marry me, mon ange?” he asked softly, his voice steady despite the gravity of the moment.  And you didn’t even notice the mispronunciation anymore because it was his pronunciation. His eyes were full of hope, of love, of everything you’d built together. Your whole body trembled as you looked down at him, this boy who had turned your world upside down in the most beautiful way. Tears blurred your vision, and all you could do was nod at first. 
“Yeah… Yes, of course, I’ll marry you, baby.”  You managed choking out the words. Jude grinned, wide and relieved, his eyes sparkling brighter than the diamond in his hand. Jude slid the ring onto your finger, his hands steady despite everything. Then, without hesitation, he pulled you into his arms, wrapping you in the warmth of his embrace, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that was full of promise, full of love, full of forever. You were speechless, your heart swelling with so many emotions that you didn’t know where to start. You could feel the tears slipping down your cheeks as you held him, this man who had brought so much love and light into your life. The orchestra’s music swelled, the sky painted in vibrant hues of pink and gold, and the world around you seemed to disappear. All that mattered was this moment, this place, and the man in your arms. You kissed him deeply, his lips warm against yours as the waves gently lapped at the shore. You were dizzy with love, with happiness, with the overwhelming realization that your life was about to change forever. Everything felt like it was meant to be. And as you stood there, wrapped in Jude’s arms, you knew this was the beginning of something even more beautiful than you could have ever imagined. The beach, the villa, the setting sun—it all seemed to disappear, leaving just the two of you standing there, in love, in awe, in the beginning of something new.
At first, you couldn’t stop sobbing, the weight of it all too much to hold back. Jude kept you close, arms wrapped around you as you stood on the Grecian shoreline for what felt like an eternity, just swaying together in the golden light of the setting sun. Sometimes you just didn’t need words. The sea’s gentle rhythm mirrored your own breathing as you tried to catch your breath between the tears, but the emotions kept coming and going, like waves crashing and retreating. Jude’s grip on you never faltered though, it hadn’t the whole time you knew him, his cheek pressed against the top of your head. You could feel his chest rising and falling steadily, though you knew he was feeling it too—the tears quietly slipping from his eyes, the magnitude of this moment as real to him as it was to you. 
“Can I tell everyone you’re my fiancée now?” Eventually, he leaned down and whispered into your ear, his voice soft but filled with so much joy. You let out a small, shaky giggle, though still confused as you pulled back slightly to look up at him. His hands moved instinctively to wipe away the lingering tears from your cheeks, his thumbs brushing over your skin with such tenderness that it made your heart swell all over again. As you took a deep breath, your eyes widened as he turned, his arm still around you. You followed his gaze, your breath catching once more. The staircase you’d descended earlier—the one leading back up to the villa—was now adorned with an elaborate floral arrangement. Beautiful blooms in soft, romantic shades of, white and green lined the steps, twining around the railing, draping down like something out of a dream.
“Oh my God…” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you stared in awe. Jude just smiled, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze before tugging you gently toward the stairs. You took a few hesitant steps, but when you reached the first floral-draped step, your heart fluttered again, realizing that this was not just about the two of you anymore. Back up at the villa, you could hear the faint sound of chatter and laughter, and as you made your way up, it became clear—Jude had planned everything. The grand party awaiting you, the surprise of it all. As you climbed higher, you caught glimpses of familiar faces—your family, his family, your closest friends, all gathered in celebration. The moment you reached the top, a wave of applause erupted. You looked at Jude in astonishment, overwhelmed again, but this time by the sheer love surrounding you. Everyone was there—your parents, Louis, Jobe, Whitney—waiting to congratulate you both. Jude squeezed your hand once more, beaming as he raised your entwined fingers for everyone to see, announcing to the world what you both already knew: you were his, and he was yours, forever. You giggled but tears welled up again, this time they were happy tears. You were embraced by your family, laughter and congratulations filling the air, the joy shared by everyone around you as you and Jude stood there, soaking in the moment, now engaged and surrounded by love. As soon as you caught sight of Whitney, her eyes welled up, tears streaming down her face as she pushed through the crowd to reach you. The moment you embraced her, both of you melted into each other’s arms, the years of friendship and every shared secret rushing back in an instant. You both clung tight, feeling like the younger versions of yourselves had finally taken a deep sigh of relief, knowing you’d both found partners who were right for you.
“I’m so happy for you you gorgeous gorgeous girl” Whitney sobbed into your shoulder, her voice breaking with emotion. You pulled back slightly, giggling through your own tears, seeing her eyes bright with pride and happiness for you.
“You’re crying more than I am!” you teased, wiping at your face with a sniffle. The two of you laughed, the sound muddied with sobs of joy. Whitney wiped her tears with a shaky hand and beamed at you. 
“I found out the other week,” she gushed, “and oh my God, I had to turn my location off just to keep it a secret! I’ve been dying to tell you.” She smiled. You giggled harder, the emotions bubbling over, feeling like it was all too perfect.
“You’ve fucking known this whole time?” you asked, incredulous. "You liar!" You yelped. She shook her head, laughing through her tears. 
“No! No, I found out after Paris I swear! I’m just glad I didn’t slip since! You don’t know how hard it was. But how good did he dooo” The two of you shared another tight embrace, and in that moment, it wasn’t just about you and Jude or Whitney and Trent—it was about the bond you and Whitney had, one built over years of friendship, now seeing each other finally finding the happiness and love you both deserved. It was like a sigh of relief for your younger selves, a moment of pure joy, knowing you had come so far together.
As the laughter of the party swirled around you, you found yourself in the middle of a group of women you loved, each one beaming with happiness for you. Whitney was dabbing her eyes, trying not to ruin her makeup from crying tears of joy. Winnie was playfully teasing you about how Jude had managed to surprise you despite all your ‘sharp instincts.’ Your mum, still slightly in shock, kept looking at the ring on your hand, shaking her head with a smile. Her eyes gleamed with pride, but you could also see a trace of emotion, the weight of the moment not lost on her. The ring, a symbol of so much more than a simple proposal, gleamed as the women continued to gush over how perfectly it suited you. Whitney’s mum chimed in, joking that she wished she had a Jude to pick out jewelry for her. The conversation was light and airy, filled with the kind of shared happiness only women who have known each other for years could have. Everyone was buzzing, their energy as golden as the light from the setting sun. And then, a tiny, familiar giggle cut through the conversation. You glanced over to see Teddy, breaking free from Trent’s grasp, her chubby little legs carrying her swiftly across the lawn toward you.
“Mama!” Teddy squealed, clinging to Whitney’s leg, hugging her. Whitney, still emotional from the evening, smiled warmly and beant down to kiss her hair but Teddy’s attention was quickly diverted when she spotted you. Her wide eyes, full of innocent curiosity, locked onto you, and you could see the wheels turning in her little head. She slipped from Whitney’s arms and made a beeline for you, determination in every tiny step. 
“I sorry,” she said, her voice a soft babble, tugging at the hem of your dress. You bent down to her level, confused but charmed by her earnestness. Teddy’s eyes were so big, her tiny face serious as she seemed to be weighing something in her mind.
“Sorry? What for, sweet girl?” you asked, your voice soft as you brushed a curl from her face. You crouched down to her level, letting her know she had your full attention. Teddy shifted on her feet, biting her lip slightly before finally spilling the beans. 
“Judey told was gonna marry you,” she confessed in a rush, the words stumbling over each other in her eagerness. “Daddy and Judey and me had pinky promise. So they told I can’t tell auntie … I sorry.” She frowned feeling guilty. Your heart melted instantly. You felt an overwhelming warmth at her sincerity, the way her tiny shoulders dropped slightly as if she’d been carrying the weight of this secret. You chuckled softly, tilting your head and raising an eyebrow. 
“A pinky promise, huh? Well, that is very serious.” You cooed. Teddy’s giggle was like a bell, her face lighting up at your playful tone. 
“Yeah huh,” she nodded, her small fingers fidgeting with the fabric of your dress. “Serus.”  She emphasized the word as if she were letting you in on a great universal truth. You grinned, scooping her up into your arms and hugging her close.
“I understand Ted. Pinky promises are important,” you said, brushing your nose against hers. She burst into another fit of giggles, squirming with joy in your embrace. It was a small moment, but it was filled with so much love and innocence. And as you held her, her little arms wrapping tightly around your neck, you felt something incredibly precious about this child’s naive understanding of love and promises. After a few moments, Teddy leaned back, her eyes still wide with wonder. 
“You most lucky, tay?” She looked at you with the seriousness only a child could muster. You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden sincerity in her voice. 
“Why’s that, Teddy girl?” You asked. Her little voice dropped to a whisper, as if she was sharing a secret meant only for you. 
“Judey the nicest.” Her words hit you squarely in the chest, and your heart swelled so much it almost hurt. You swallowed a lump in your throat, holding back more tears that threatened to spill over. You smiled, hugging her a little closer. 
“Yeah, Ted,” you whispered, your voice soft with emotion. “I’m really, really lucky. Judey is the nicest.” You concurred kissing her cheek. Your eyes flicking to find Jude amongst your friends and family. She nodded firmly, clearly satisfied with her conclusion. The simplicity of her words, spoken with such conviction, left a profound mark on you. It was a reminder of all the reasons you’d fallen in love with Jude in the first place. In her innocence, Teddy had perfectly summed up what mattered most: that Jude was good, that he was kind, and that you were lucky to have found him. You stood, still holding her close, as you turned back to the group of women who had been watching the entire exchange with knowing smiles on their faces. Whitney reached over and adjusted Teddy’s dress, tears in her eyes once again. 
“She’s not wrong,” Whitney said softly, glancing at you. “You are lucky, Y/N. But so is Jude.” You laughed through the tears that were finally spilling over, your heart full to the brim with love—for your family, for this life you were building, and for the man who was waiting for you just across the garden, probably grinning like an idiot, already planning the next moment to make you feel even luckier. That evening, the villa came alive with the glow of celebration. The Grecian coast hummed with the sounds of your family and closest friends gathering for a dinner that felt like something out of a dream. Long tables were set beneath the open sky, draped in fine white linens and adorned with candlesticks. Soft candlelight flickered against the rich blooms of flowers spilling across the table in blush tones—roses, peonies, and wild greenery interwoven with the delicate coastal breeze. The air smelled of salt and sea, a cool breeze rolling off the water and mingling with the scents of grilled seafood, freshly baked bread, and olive oil. The sky shifted from deep orange to lavender as the sun dipped lower toward the horizon, casting a golden glow over the scene. The waves lapped gently against the shore, the rhythm of the ocean setting a peaceful backdrop to the lively conversations and laughter bubbling from the guests.
As you sat next to Jude at the head of the table, you felt like the luckiest person in the world. You were surrounded by your family—your mum, who hadn’t stopped smiling since you arrived; your brother Louis, who kept clinking his glass to toast your engagement; Whitney and Trent, who were beaming with joy at their seats across from you, with Teddy in their lap. Winnie was there too, making jokes and keeping the mood light with her witty banter. Aurelien, your dad, Jobe, Denise and Mark, the list goes on. Everyone you loved was gathered in this perfect moment, toasting to you and Jude, the two of you at the heart of it all. Jude sat close, his hand never leaving yours. He was glowing with happiness, his smile wide as he toasted along with everyone, his fingers laced through yours beneath the table. Every now and then, he would lean in to kiss your temple or whisper something sweet in your ear, making you blush and giggle. You couldn’t help but marvel at how perfect everything felt. The conversations, the laughter, the music—it was like a symphony of love playing out under the stars. As the night deepened, the candles grew shorter, their flames flickering in the soft breeze, but the warmth around the table only grew stronger. Your family shared stories of love and laughter, of memories they held dear about you and Jude, of all the adventures yet to come. The stars above seemed to mirror the sparkle in your eyes as you glanced over at Jude, who looked more handsome than ever in the dim glow of the candles. As dessert was served—sweet honey-drenched baklava and rich chocolate torte—you and Jude shared a quiet moment amidst the revelry. He squeezed your hand, his thumb gently brushing over your engagement ring, and gave you a look that made your heart skip a beat.
“How’s it feel being the most beautiful girl in the world?” he asked, his voice low and full of affection. You blushed, leaning into him, the warmth of his words wrapping around you. 
“It feels pretty surreal,” you whispered. “How’s it feel being engaged to her?” You cheekily replied. 
“Pretty surreal.” He echoed you with a smirk. 
“No, seriously, it feels like I’m living in a dream right now.” You cut in with a warm smile. He kissed your temple with a hum.
“It’s not a dream, angel. This is our life. You and me, forever.” He smiled, his eyes softening.
Later, as the party continued into the night, you and Jude quietly slipped away from the table, leaving the laughter and love to continue around the table without you. He led you back to the villa, up the winding staircase to your private bedroom suite. The door clicked softly behind you as you stepped into the room, leaving the glow of the celebration behind for something more intimate, more personal. The bedroom was softly lit by a few candles flickering in the corners, the scent of jasmine and sea air filling the space. Large glass doors were open to the balcony, letting in the breeze from the ocean and the sound of the waves crashing gently against the shore. The bed was draped in soft, luxurious linens, and there was an air of quiet serenity, a stark contrast to the lively party outside. Jude pulled you close, his arms wrapping around your waist as he buried his face in your neck, kissing the soft skin there. 
“You’re mine now,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Forever.” You smiled, your heart swelling with love as you ran your fingers over his hair. 
“I’ve always been yours.” The intimacy between you both deepened as the night unfolded in the privacy of your suite. His kisses grew more passionate, his hands more eager as he undressed you slowly, savoring every moment as if it were sacred. You slipped out of your dress, you let it pool at your feet, revealing your naked body for him. You admired your reflection in the mirror, running your hands over your soft skin, your fingers lingering on your nipples, making them harden. Jude’s eyes raked over your body, taking in the sight of your bare tits. He stood behind you, his eyes never leaving you, as he slowly began to undress himself.
"There’s no way you’re real, Y/N," he says, his voice hoarse with desire and a shake of the head.
“You going to let me taste every inch of you?"  You cooed as you bit your lip, feeling a surge of power as you watched him reveal his muscular body through the mirror. You turned around to face him. His hands went to the button of his pants,  but couldn’t help but stare at the impressive bulge you knew well in his boxers.
"Come here," he says, his voice low and commanding. The candles flickered, casting soft shadows across your skin as you made love, the connection between you two more intense than ever before. Every touch, every whispered word felt like a promise—of love, of forever. Afterward, you lay together, wrapped in each other’s arms, your bodies warm and content under the soft sheets. The sound of the ocean lulled you into a peaceful quiet, your heart still racing from the emotion of the evening. Jude brushed his fingers across your cheek, his eyes never leaving yours, full of a love so deep it felt infinite.
“Tonight was perfect,” you whispered, your head resting on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.
“Yeah, it was,” he agreed softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “But it’s only the beginning, angel. There’s so much more ahead of us.” And as you drifted off to sleep in his arms, the distant sound of laughter and the sea breeze filling the room, you knew he was right. This was just the start of a lifetime of perfect moments with him.
The morning Jude left for his away game as your fiancé felt heavier than usual. The air between you two was thick with the weight of separation. For days, you had been wrapped up in each other—barely giving one another an inch of space since the proposal in Greece, basking in the joy of your new future together. But now, it was time for him to leave, and neither of you was ready to part. You stood in the doorway of your Madrid home, watching as Jude packed his bag into the back of the car service waiting to take him to the airport. He moved slower than usual, as if stalling for time, and you couldn’t help the way your heart tugged painfully. You wanted so badly to go with him, but with your gallery opening in just a day time, it wasn’t possible.
“I hate this,” you mumbled, fidgeting with the engagement ring on your finger, a pout forming on your lips. You felt a little childish for it, but it didn’t matter. The thought of him being away even for a short time felt wrong now. Jude zipped his bag and turned, walking back over to you with a soft smile. His hand cupped your cheek gently, his thumb brushing away the worry that was etched into your expression. 
“Angel,” he said, his voice soft but reassuring, “don’t worry. I’ll be back before you know it. And soon I’ll be coming back home to you, as my wife, for the rest of my life.” Hearing Jude say that made your heart leap. ‘My wife.’ It sounded so surreal, so blissfully permanent. You felt a giddiness bubble up inside of you, like you were still that girl who had fallen for him—lucky that he had chosen you, out of everyone, to spend his life with.
“I know,” you whispered, pressing your hand over his on your cheek, leaning into his warmth. “But I’ll still miss you.” You cooed softly. He chuckled softly, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to your lips. 
“I’ll miss you too. More than you know.” He replied gently. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of trying to delay the inevitable, Jude sighed and pulled back. His hand slipped from your cheek, fingers brushing over your arm until they finally let go. He looked at you one last time, his eyes filled with love and the faintest trace of reluctance, before heading down the steps to the waiting car. You stood in the doorway, arms wrapped around yourself, watching as he got into the backseat. Your heart twisted painfully, and the urge to call him back rushed over you. But you knew he had to go, and now when he came back, it would be like he said—he’d be coming back to you, always, for the rest of his life. As the car began to pull away, Jude looked back at you through the window, his eyes locked on yours. You raised your hand, waving softly, your lips curved into a small pout. He smiled back, his eyes crinkling at the edges, and blew you a kiss from the window. You caught it playfully, pressing it to your lips before kissing your engagement ring, feeling the cool metal and diamonds against your skin like a reminder of the promise he made. As the car disappeared out the drive and around the corner, the world felt a little quieter, a little emptier. But in your heart, there was nothing but warmth. You knew that no matter where he went, he’d always come back to you.
The next day, you were sitting on the couch alone, you hugged your knees to your chest, the tension in the room mirroring the tight scoreline on the screen. It was the Champions League, and Madrid was locked in a 0-0 stalemate as the game ticked away, every passing second making you more nervous. Your chin rested on your knees, your eyes flicking between the screen and the clock, before you gave in and buried your forehead against your legs, too anxious to watch the final moments unfold. The commentators’ voices boomed through the speakers, heightening your sense of dread. Time was running out, and you couldn’t help but feel the nerves crawling through your skin. Then suddenly, you heard it—Bellingham, goal in the 92nd minute! Your head snapped up, eyes wide with disbelief. You blinked, and there he was, Jude, sprinting towards the corner flag, arms outstretched, his face lit up with a smile so wide it made your heart soar. The entire stadium erupted around him, but all you could focus on was the way he slowed down, kissed his ring finger, and pointed directly at the camera mouthing ‘for you angel.’ The same ring finger you had kissed when he left for the game. A celebration just for you.  A laugh bubbled up from your chest, a mixture of relief and joy. You felt the weight of the distance between you lift, just for a moment, as if he was there with you. The feeling of being apart, of missing him so deeply, faded in the glow of that moment. It was these little things—these private gestures in public spaces—that made everything feel so special. Your heart swelled with pride and love, knowing that even though you were miles apart, he was thinking of you, playing for you, celebrating for you. You smiled, biting your lip to stop yourself from tearing up, and wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, feeling that connection bridge the gap between you. Being apart was awful, but moments like this were everything.
You stood in the dimly lit bathroom of your gallery, staring at your reflection, your fingers lightly tracing the line of your lips. You were obsessing over the lip liner, not because it wasn’t perfect but because your nerves had nowhere else to go. The voices from the event, the clinking of glasses, and the hum of conversations drifted in from outside the door. Tonight was supposed to be about the art, about the work you had spent months curating. Yet, your mind felt scattered, your thoughts circling the fear that this night was about more than that now. You placed your hands on the sink, taking a deep breath, your mind trying to recall the details of every conversation you’d had in Spanish. Your fluency had improved, but with each person you greeted, each question about the pieces, you wondered if you were truly coming across as the confident curator you needed to be. The stakes were higher now—not just because it was your gallery’s opening but because of who was linked to it. The whispers about Jude, even without the public knowledge of the engagement, were loud enough. The gallery was packed, largely because of the buzz surrounding him, and you couldn’t ignore the quiet unease that settled in your stomach. How long before anyone noticed the ring? You stepped away from the mirror and made your way back into the gallery, scanning the room filled with guests mingling, admiring the artwork, sipping on wine. Your eyes darted to the pieces hanging on the walls, your heart swelling with pride for the artists you had chosen, their work beautifully capturing the space. But then, the inevitable—someone brought up Jude. They asked, with a sly smile, if he was attending. You smiled, deflecting, giving an answer you hoped would move the conversation back to the art. But your smile faltered as you felt a wave of loneliness. You loved this gallery. You loved what you had built. Yet tonight, you were walking a tightrope, balancing between your identity as an art curator and the person the public increasingly linked to Jude. It was a surreal feeling—exhilarating, yes, but also heavy, like the weight of his shadow sometimes loomed larger than your own.
You stood in the middle of it all, watching the conversations swirl around you, trying to take it all in, when you felt a pair of familiar hands slide around your waist. A shiver of warmth ran down your spine, and you leaned back instinctively into Jude’s chest, closing your eyes. He pulled you into him, his chin brushing your shoulder as his presence melted away the tension you hadn’t realized you were holding. He had flown back for this moment, for you. You tilted your head to look up at him, his face soft with affection, the stress and anxiety of the evening easing with just that one glance. Jude whispered something against your ear, his breath warm, and you could feel his smile as he squeezed your waist. It was like he knew exactly when you needed him most, and the relief that surged through you made your eyes sting. You blinked back the tears, not wanting anyone to see the mix of emotions flooding through you.
“You came,” you whispered, as if it were still hard to believe.
“Of course I did, angel” Jude said softly, his voice warm with sincerity. “I wasn’t going to miss this for the world. So proud of you.” His hands rested protectively on your waist, and as you turned to face him, your hand instinctively touched his cheek. The noise of the gallery dimmed, everything else faded as you stared into his eyes. There was an unspoken understanding between you, a shared knowledge that this moment, this life you were building together, meant more than what anyone else could see. Jude tilted his head, his lips brushing your forehead in a kiss, and suddenly, all the chatter about him, the weight of the public eye, felt distant. People might be buzzing about him, but you hoped they would notice your work, the art you had worked so hard to display. Yet, even with that thought, there was something undeniably comforting about his presence here. He wasn’t just a celebrity to you—he was Jude, the person who grounded you, who made you feel like you could conquer anything, whether in this gallery or in the quieter moments of your life. As he held you, you could feel the eyes of a few guests shifting toward you, perhaps wondering when you two would make your rounds together, but neither of you moved. You were content to stay wrapped up in his arms, soaking in the comfort of knowing that no matter how much attention the two of you garnered, this—his support, his love—was yours, and yours alone.
“Do you think anyone’s noticed, baby?” you asked, your voice low, as your fingers traced the outline of the engagement ring hidden beneath your sleeve. Jude chuckled softly, his lips grazing your ear. 
“Don’t know… Probably were too busy wondering if I was even going to show up.” You rolled your eyes but you grinned. "Nah, angel, they're here for the gallery... for your work, the artist. I think we're in the clear." He cooed gently reassuring you. You felt a flicker of pride at the secret still safe between you two. 
“Okay, good,” you said, glancing around the room. “Let’s keep it that way… at least for now.” You sheepishly told him
“For as long as you want.” Jude whispered as he kissed the top of your head. He squeezed your waist, and you felt the world slow down just a little. You were no longer standing in the gallery filled with eyes and whispers—you were standing in a quiet space with the person who mattered most, the person who had flown back just for you, and for this, your dream. The rest could wait.
The night of the Ballon d’Or ceremony had an electric charge to it, the kind of energy that makes your skin hum. You felt it from the moment you stepped out of the car with Jude, flashes from the cameras lighting up the Parisian evening like fireworks. You had dressed carefully, elegantly, and Jude couldn’t take his eyes off you from the second you stepped into the light. You were in an Attico dress they Jude almost ripped off you before you even left for the event. His gaze was all-consuming, making you feel simultaneously adored and exposed under the intense scrutiny of the media. The rumors had been swirling all over the internet for days—speculation about your engagement sparked by every subtle clue, from Jobe’s playful 'sister' comment in an interview to photos of Jude’s kissing hid ring finger after his goals. The fans were running wild with theories, and tonight, standing next to Jude on the red carpet, you knew it would only intensify. You could feel Jude’s arm wrapped tightly around your waist, guiding you through the sea of cameras and lights. He hadn’t stopped telling you how beautiful you were, how perfect you looked, but somehow, under the intensity of the moment, those words felt distant, like echoes. You tensed, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. The world was watching, and it wasn’t just about the football anymore; it was about you and Jude—your relationship, your life together, and possibly the engagement. 
“You look so beautiful, Angel. I’ve got you, don’t worry.” Jude whispered, sensing your nerves, he leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. The warmth of his words melted some of the tension, and you exhaled, relaxing slightly into the protective embrace of his arm. Jude always had this way of making you feel safe, even when you were standing in front of hundreds of cameras. He’d told you the same thing countless times tonight, but in that moment, it was exactly what you needed to hear. You let yourself settle into his hold, leaning into him as the flashes continued, grounding yourself in his presence. You both knew the engagement might come up tonight. You’d talked about it beforehand—how if it came up, you wouldn’t deny it but you wouldn’t necessarily make a big announcement either. Yet as the interviews began and Jude stayed glued to your side, you felt the nerves rise again. His clinginess tonight felt different, more deliberate, like he was trying to shield you from the chaos of the evening while still being his charming, professional self. As you approached the press, the interviews, and the swarm of photographers, the anxiety crept back in. You could feel the weight of the rumors hanging in the air, just waiting to be confirmed or denied. The ring on your finger, though visible, the news of it still hidden from the public, suddenly felt heavy, like a secret barely kept. Jude, as always, seemed completely at ease. His confidence, the way he stood so tall next to you, hand protectively on your waist, made it seem like he was untouchable. But you knew him better than that. You could sense the nerves hiding behind the way his thumb absentmindedly rubbed small circles into your side. He was trying to comfort you, but it was clear he was anticipating something too. The interviews began, and you smiled politely, staying close to Jude, letting him go on.  Jude answered them with the ease of someone who had done this a hundred times before. But the interviewer, a sharp woman with a knowing smile, turned to you next. 
“Do you think Jude will win tonight?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. You smiled, shyly glancing at Jude, and replied, 
“I’m a little biased but no matter I'm really proud of the year he's had,” your voice light, leaning into him as he grinned down at you. Then, without missing a beat, the moment you didn’t expect—Jude’s voice, soft and casual, but with a confidence that made your heart stop.
“My fiancée is the best thing I’ve won this year,” he said with a smirk, his voice crackling in your ear, as the cameras around you captured every second. “But I’m honored to be nominated.” You froze for a split second, your heart racing as the words settled in. Your breath caught in your throat. The word “fiancée” echoed in your ears, your heart pounding in your chest. You didn’t even have time to react before he pressed a kiss to your temple, holding you even closer as the realization set in—not just for you, but for everyone around you. It felt like the air around you thickened, the weight of the moment sinking in with every flash of the cameras. Jude pressed a gentle kiss to your temple again, humming contentedly, completely unbothered by the reaction he’d just set off. And just like that, it was out. You could hear murmurs, see the widened eyes of the reporters, and feel the collective buzz from everyone around you. The rumors were no longer rumors. Jude had just confirmed it—effortlessly, casually, like it was the most natural thing in the world. You were his fiancée. You blinked, turning slightly to meet his eyes, feeling a rush of emotion that made your knees a little weak. He squeezed your waist, that same reassuring smile on his face, as if to say, We’re in this together. The world might be watching, but all that mattered was the two of you, standing here, side by side.
The interviewer, visibly stunned, tried to recover, asking Jude a follow-up question, but the moment had already shifted. The attention wasn’t on his chances of winning anymore. It was on the two of you, standing there, side by side, no longer hiding the truth. Jude answered a few more questions, all while keeping you close, but the rest of the interview felt like a blur. You couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d just said—how natural it had been, how confident. He had called you his fiancée like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and suddenly, it was. The world knew now, and the weight of that realization settled over you in the best way possible. As the interview wrapped up and you moved through the rest of the evening, Jude never let go of you. Even when you sat down for dinner, surrounded by football royalty and celebrities, his hand remained intertwined with yours under the table. You glanced at him from time to time, still a little dazed by the enormity of the moment, but every time you did, he smiled at you, that same knowing smile that said, This is just the beginning.
And it was. The night continued, the awards were handed out, and even though Jude didn’t win the Ballon d’Or, it didn’t matter. He’d already won, and so had you. As you walked out of the ceremony, hand in hand, the buzz of the evening still swirling around you, you realized that the world had changed a little. You were no longer just Jude’s girlfriend—you were his fiancée, and the whole world knew it now. The rest of the night blurred after that moment, but you didn’t care. Jude had said it, and the truth was out there now. You were engaged. You were his. The joy you felt outweighed any nerves, and with Jude’s arm around you, you knew you could handle whatever came next.
The Ballon d’Or ceremony had already been a whirlwind, but nothing compared to the heart-pounding moment Jude declared to the world that you were his fiancée. You were still processing it, standing beside him on the red carpet, your hand resting on his chest as you leaned into his side. The heat of his body and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat were the only things grounding you amid the chaos of camera flashes, reporters’ questions, and the weight of his revelation.  Your hand instinctively tightened around his, your fingers brushing over the ring. You turned to look at him, your eyes wide, still processing what had just happened earlier. Jude looked down at you, his smile soft but full of certainty. His gaze was unwavering, as if he’d been waiting for this moment for longer than you even realized.
The news of your engagement to Jude had ignited the internet, and while you tried to go about your normal routine, the world was already buzzing with excitement about your upcoming wedding. After the Ballon d’Or ceremony, life felt like it had been put under a magnifying glass. Every time you and Jude stepped out, people stared, speculating, photographing. And yet, despite all the attention, the little moments you shared in between—those felt like lifelines. You found yourself walking hand-in-hand with Jude through the heart of Madrid, the early afternoon sun casting a golden hue over the city. The two of you tried to stay low-key, just blending in with the crowd, but it was hard when the man beside you was Real Madrid’s biggest star. Still, Jude managed to make you feel like it was just the two of you, no cameras, no fanfare—just two people in love. As you passed by a Real Madrid FC store, Jude slowed to a stop, mischief in his eyes. 
“Angel, remember when I made you buy your first Madrid jersey?” he asked, grinning down at you. You laughed, nodding. It felt like a lifetime ago—back when you first arrived in Madrid. You’d gone into that same store, just entertaining Jude’s annoying teasing, but he had insisted. He wanted you to wear his name on your back, almost like a silent promise of what was to come.
“How could I forget? Those are fucking expensive especially considering you could’ve just given me one…” You rolled your eyes with a smile. He smirk, pulling you closer. 
“Well, I think it’s time for you to buy another.” He told you seriously.
“Huh? Why, baby?” You raised an eyebrow. You had plenty of Madrid jerseys now. Jude leaned down, his lips close to your ear, voice low. 
“Because I’m not just your favorite player anymore,” he whispered. “Now, I’m your favorite fiancée.” You couldn’t help but shake your head, though a smile tugged at your lips. The logic made no sense. You understood the sentiment but at this point you felt like that’s all you wore was a Bellingham jersey.
“You’re my only fiancée, Jude.” You corrected him with a kiss to his cheek. 
“That’s right,” he said, his hands on your waist, squeezing lightly. “And since Act II of our story has officially started, you need the right jersey to go with it. Not my girlfriend, need a fiance jersey... hmm?” His tone was playful, but there was something possessive in his gaze, something that made your heart race. You sighed dramatically but nodded, stepping out of his hold to walk into the store alone because you knew he couldn’t go with you. The inside was just as you remembered, bustling with fans excitedly grabbing their Bellingham #5 jerseys off the racks. It was surreal, watching people walk out with his name on their backs, and yet it still felt like he belonged to you in a way that no jersey or crowd could claim. You found the one you wanted and made your way back to him, holding it up with a playful smirk.
“Happy?” you asked, lifting the bag. “Act II can officially begin. My Bellingham jersey, just for you. My favorite player and my favorite fiance.” Jude’s laugh was warm, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he pulled you into his arms, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. 
“More than happy,” he murmured, his voice low and full of affection. “You’re not just my biggest fan, you know,” he said, pulling back slightly to meet your eyes. “You’re my best fan. My only fan.” There was a quiet intensity in his voice laced with playfulness and a possessiveness that made your heart skip a beat. His hands held you tighter, and you could feel the love radiating from him in waves. “Mine,” he added, and the word hung between you, carrying a weight that felt deeper than anything you’d ever experienced. You blushed, leaning into him, feeling like you’d burst with happiness. The bustling store, the busy Madrid streets, the noise of the world—it all faded into the background as you stood there in Jude’s arms, knowing that this was just the beginning of something even bigger, something that would always be yours and his.
“So once we share the last name I won't have to spend money on these anymore right?” You asked with a teasing glint in your eye. 
“What’s mine is yours.” He cooed with his arm around your shoulders, you couldn’t help but feel proud. Proud of him, proud of your relationship, and most of all, proud of the fact that the next chapter of your life would be written together.
🪩🫶❤️‍🔥🍹🌞🍒 The End 🍒🌞🍹❤️‍🔥🫶🪩
Thank you for reading!
The series has officially come to a close. I really can't express how much I loved talking about this with anyone that has messaged. From. 'You're Mine' to Act II and all the one shots in between I feel like I've created a little world that I really hope readers enjoyed. <3
Please like, comment, or message what you think of the final chapter or the entire series!
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dukestags · 1 month ago
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Quiet Corners & Gentle Giants
Simon 'ghost' Riley x trans male reader.
Warnings: GHOST BEING A SOFTY
Summary: you were intimated by him. But when he was more gentle. You fell hard.
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The first time you met Simon Riley, you almost dropped your med kit.
Standing at just 5'6 and barely brushing 85 kilos, you'd seen your fair share of intimidating soldiers during your short time within the task force as the doctor at the base. But none of them quite held a candle to Ghost.
He was massive—towering at 6'4 and built like a tank, all broad shoulders and thick muscle beneath his gear. You’d barely gotten a "Hi" out before your voice caught in your throat, eyes locking with the eerie, expressionless skull mask. You had to tilt your head nearly all the way back just to look him in the eyes.
“Don’t bite,” he’d said dryly, voice deep and gravelly, with a hint of amusement.
You’d squeaked. Actually squeaked. Then ducked your head so fast you almost tripped over your own boots.
After that, you tried your best to keep out of his way—taking your meals a little earlier or later than the others, hanging around the medbay, offering to clean weapons or file mission reports just so you wouldn’t have to sit next to him in the lounge.
But Ghost noticed. Of course he did. He wasn’t oblivious.
One night, you were in the armory alone, quietly patching up your own gear. The room was dim, humming with the low buzz of fluorescent lights. You were so focused on your stitching that you didn’t hear him come in until a shadow loomed over you.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said, voice low but not unkind.
You startled, fumbling the needle. “N-No, I—I just—”
“Am I that scary?”
You looked up, heart hammering. Ghost crouched next to you slowly, deliberately, giving you space. He wasn’t in full gear—just a black shirt that stretched tightly across his chest and arms, and his mask, of course. Always the mask.
You swallowed. “You’re… big,” you admitted, cheeks burning. “And quiet. And intense.”
A beat passed. Then, to your shock, his shoulders shook slightly.
Was… was he laughing?
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said, and then, softer: “Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, mate.”
You blinked. “You didn’t. Not really. I just… don’t do well with people. Especially big ones. I’m not exactly—y’know. Commanding.”
He tilted his head slightly, studying you. “You don’t have to be loud to be strong.”
That made your heart stutter.
From then on, he didn’t push. Just lingered a little longer in the same rooms, stood beside you on missions, occasionally handed you your mug of tea without a word. Slowly, gently, he let you come to him.
And you did. Because beneath all that muscle and the mask and the brooding silence, Simon Riley was warm in ways you never expected. Patient. Protective. Surprisingly kind.
Eventually, one night after a mission, bruised and exhausted, you leaned against him on the transport back—barely even realizing it until he shifted just slightly to make you more comfortable.
He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.
You fell asleep like that, tucked under the arm of a gentle giant who’d scared the hell out of you once—and who now made you feel safer than anyone ever had. Then. You hadn’t meant to confess like that.
Not during a quiet evening in the common room with lukewarm tea and a sore shoulder, not while Ghost was actually relaxing for once—mask up, scarred face turned half away, the flickering TV light casting soft shadows on his sharp features.
But you’d been staring at him for too long. Thinking too hard. Wondering too much.
And the words just… tumbled out.
“I think I like you. Like, like like you. A lot.”
Silence.
A beat.
Two.
Three.
Ghost blinked. Slowly. His face, always unreadable even without the mask, froze entirely.
And then he stood up.
Fast.
Too fast.
“I—uh. I’ve gotta… check something.”
He turned and left the room so abruptly you nearly spilled your tea.
You just sat there.
Mouth slightly open.
Heart sinking.
Your whole face went hot. Then cold. Then hot again. You rubbed the back of your neck, trying to convince yourself you hadn’t just torched the one connection you’d started to actually enjoy in this whole brutal job.
He didn’t talk to you the next day.
Or the day after.
He wasn’t mean—Ghost wasn’t ever mean to you—but he avoided you with military precision. If you walked into a room, he found a reason to leave it. If you tried to sit near him, he found something intensely fascinating on the other side of the base.
By day four, you were ready to chew glass.
Of course, that’s when it all came to a head.
You were in the gear room again, going over medical supplies with Kyle and Johnny. You were trying to act normal—humming under your breath, labeling syringes—but your shoulders were tight and you flinched a little when the door opened and he walked in.
Ghost.
Of course.
He froze when he saw you.
You froze when you saw him.
The tension was so thick it practically crackled in the air.
And then Johnny threw his gloves onto the counter and groaned loudly.
“For fuck’s sake, will one of you say something?!”
You nearly jumped.
Kyle pointed dramatically between you and Ghost. “You—" he said, pointing at you, "—are clearly miserable. And you—" now to Ghost, “—have been brooding harder than Price when someone steals his cigars.”
Johnny stepped in. “Just bloody get together already! We're all tired of the weird tension and tragic glances!”
Your jaw dropped.
Simon stood stiff as a board, eyes wide.
There was another beat of silence.
Then you squeaked out, “...Wait, what?”
Ghost looked at the floor. Then the wall. Then you.
And in the softest voice you’d ever heard from him, he muttered, “I didn’t run because I didn’t feel the same. I ran because I do.”
You blinked.
Ghost rubbed the back of his neck, the tips of his ears visibly red above the mask.
“I’m not good at this,” he admitted, voice barely above a growl. “And I didn’t want to mess it up.”
You stared.
“...So you do like me?”
He nodded, once. Then again, firmer. “Yeah. I do.”
You didn’t even know you were smiling until Soap grinned and muttered, “Finally.”
Kyle clapped you on the shoulder. “We’re going to lunch. You two—” he pointed, “—talk. Maybe kiss. Whatever. Just sort it out.”
And just like that, they were gone.
Leaving you alone with the man who used to terrify you—who now looked more flustered than you’d ever seen him.
You stepped a little closer.
“Want to… maybe sit with me tonight?” you asked, heart pounding.
He gave a short, shaky laugh.
“Yeah,” Ghost said, voice warm. “I’d like that.”
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baahsu · 9 months ago
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The strawhats sail through a weird place on the grand line and zoro's teleported to the past
The catch? He doesn't go to shimotsuki village, but to germa instead
Zoro doesn't know a lot about the place or about its ruler, but the amount of soldiers he sees in the distance, the absolute grayness of his surroundings and the little bits of information sanji told him after wci are more than enough hints to help him guess where he is
Unaware of the change in time, though, figuring he was only transported to a different place in the world, he's ready to kick judge's ass and sanji's brothers' too if they're around, so he starts stomping around the castle grounds, looking for a door that can take him inside
Not surprisingly, the soldiers spot him within a few minutes and zoro, still putting on a fight, is taken into judge's presence (in the end he got what he wanted, to find judge, so he counts it as a win)
Inside the main room of the castle, judge eyes him up and down, staying a bit longer on the three swords strapped to his hips, and decides he'll spare his life if he's a fighter good enough to train his kids
Zoro raises an eyebrow, confused by what he means by that. Surely genetically modified adults don't need any training from him, but hey, he's not gonna say no the chance of kicking their asses being so easily handed to him on a silver platter
What isn't his surprise, though, when five kids enter the room
-
It doesn't take a genius to realize he somehow ended up in the past and he adapts to his new routine with some hiccups along the way
He keeps getting lost in the kingdom (and puts his money on it being all the snails' fault, it's obvious they keep moving and changing the layout of the place) and arriving late to the training sessions, but judge seems satisfied enough with his work and doesn't do much else other than to scowl at him
It doesn't take long for zoro to understand the dynamics between the siblings and he can't help but pay extra attention to sanji, making sure he doesn't push himself too hard to match the others while also making sure his brothers don't pick up on him
It might seem childish on his part, but he also gets into arguments with the boys more often than he'd like to admit
With sanji because he's always arguing he can endure more training or because the damn kid is scolding him for getting lost again (zoro can't believe this brat is as annoying as his older version!)
With the others because they've somehow moved on from sanji and decied to pick on him instead
They mock him for arriving late, call him weak for needing to use three swords
It's annoying and he wants to kick them all in the head, but hey, if sanji's being left alone he counts it as a small victory
Reiju's the easiest one to deal with, she listens to him and is strong too. Zoro also notices she seems amused at the change of behavior from ichiji, niji and yonji, and seems happy that sanji's having a good time for a change
-
Zoro accidentally meets sora once, having somehow wandered into the medical wing of the castle, and she profusely thanks him for looking after her children. She's talked to reiju and sanji recently and they seemed to have been on high spirits
She also thanks him for making some progress with ichiji, niji and yonji, something she herself has failed to do. Zoro doesn't know what to say to all of that and just bashfully scratches at the back of his neck, "I'll keep doing my best" he murmurs
He turns to leave the room and closes the door to the sight of sora smiling (a smile that reminds him of older sanji) and waving at him. He nods at her and feels like a promise's just been made between them
-
The training sessions continue for a few more weeks, the kids, specially the quadruplets, becoming more and mora attached to him, but before zoro knows it, he's teleported back to his present time
Sanji looks at him differently every time they cross paths and zoro can see it in his eyes it's because he remembers him from his past
Their relationship becomes awkward for a few days, like sanji's taking time to process what's happening, before it takes a turn for the better
They barely need to talk, there's an underlying understanding between them, a deep trust that's been built long ago, and they become closer than ever
They still bicker and push each other's buttons, but they can now spend peaceful moments together talking about anything and everything, reminiscing about the past, dreaming about the future
They dock at an island a few days later and zoro freezes when he spots one of germa's ships
Sanji's taken aback too, though he isn't as stiff as zoro is, he seems more at ease, like he's wrapping his head on germa being actually there
They have no time to discuss what they should do as three people land on the deck in front of them
Ichiji, niji and yonji are clearly surprised to see zoro, just as the swordsman is to see them, but they also look incredibly happy, or as happy as they can considering the whole lack of emotions thing
Zoro looks at sanji, confusion clear on his features, and sanji tilts his head to the side
"Has seaweed finally gotten to your brain, marimo? After the fight in onigashima I told you I talked to my brothers in wci about how I ended up on the same crew as our childhood instructor. I even told you I thought it was weird you didn't seem to have aged when we met in the east blue. They suggested judge, that fucking bastard, must've injected something in you all those years ago"
Zoro looks at him like he's grown another head, eye widening as the new memories trickle into his brain
In the meantime sanji continues, bashful, "Maybe I left out the part where they said they wanted to meet you again...? A-and it was because I knew you'd refuse to do it- but they sounded as eager as they could sound so I told them I'd get in contact after we left wano to tell them what island we were going to next..."
Zoro blinks slowly and tunes out the discussion that just started between the brothers, something about ichiji, niji and yonji arguing they weren't all that eager and sanji snorting, claiming that "Yeah, sure you're not eager, you're obsessed!"
What he focus on, though, is on the fact sanji had, and is having, a normal interaction with his brothers, which is a complete 180 from what he previously knew about their relationship
A warm feeling spreads in his chest and sora's smiling face comes to his mind, reminding him of their silent promise, now fulfilled
But he doesn't reminisce for long, ichiji, niji, sanji and yonji soon crowding him, demanding his attention and that he fights them
Zoro smirks and pulls out his swords, getting into a fighting stance
Guess he'll have to do his best not to end up disappoint sora, then, though honestly, he doesn't think he'll have any issues with that
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