#HE RECOMMENDED ME SOME BREATHING EXERCISES | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sttoru · 1 year

Note

hmmm what if gym sex with gym owner/instructor toji fushiguro. you know, they be fucking by machines and stuff 🫨🫨🫨

𝐒𝐇𝐄’𝐒 𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 . . . !

⟣ sypnosis. you thought it’d be just another day of you at the gym with your gym instructor, toji—though things were quick to escalate into a different kind of ‘workout’.

⟣ tags. gym instructor!toji fushiguro x female reader. exhibitionism, public, p in v unprotected, standing doggy ig, spanking, hair pulling, teasing, sprinkle of objectification / degradation, creampie, no to little aftercare, kinda pervert!toji as well. reader gets called ‘doll’.

⟣ note. yummyyumyummm.. this made me think of this ask t sent me & this fanart i need him so bad t_t not proofread btw. !

you were a newbie to the gym—your usual workouts consisting of the most simple sets; jumping jacks, burpees, crunches, squats, planks and push ups. an acquaintance of yours attends the same sports club and recommended you a certain gym instructor who works there most of the time.

his name was toji and apparently was good enough at his job for many other gym attendees to hire him in. you did the same and had started a few sessions with him earlier that week. toji was patient and quick to give you the needed feedback and advice on your workouts — a nice guy.

though, he did seem a bit intimidating, especially due to the fact that he was extremely bulky. your stomach did a flip once you first saw that dark-haired man.

the black tank top he wore almost every other day, his muscles that flex with each movement, the scent of his cologne you could smell whenever he got close and nonchalantly adjusted or corrected your form; that guy was more than simply attractive.

as your mind wandered and daydreamt about your gym instructor, your body was doing its needed squats. up and then down, inhale and exhale, tense and relax—you were on autopilot.

what you didn’t notice, due to the music blasting in your ears, was that toji had been wandering around the area. it was almost time for your own session with him where he’d do some cardio with you.

toji sipped on his water bottle, lazily approaching you from behind, your backside towards him. he looked around for a bit—this specific section of the gym was nearly empty at this hour of the day. except for you, him and. . . a random guy who was lifting weights in a far away corner.

toji’s eyes couldn’t help but flicker from your exposed shoulder blades to the curve of your ass whenever you squatted. it was very much intentional; not for the sake of checking on your squatting form, but more for the sake of his own needs.

it was like that almost every time he’s training with you—the gym instructor cannot resist the urges of subtly checking out that body of yours. more specifically, the curves of it. he could get a bit handsy when teaching you how to get the gist of a certain exercise.

you were a bit oblivious to this, because you thought that it was simply just toji doing his job. gym instructors were meant to help you along the way—instructing somebody and helping them get into the desired position by appropriately touching their body was part of that process. . . right?

you don’t know, but you also didn’t care. his touch on your thighs when he was correcting your form that other day, the way his big and veiny hands were gently holding your flesh; it was just way too appealing. even if he was doing his job, there was an undeniable attraction hanging between the two of you.

you couldn’t even count the many times where you ‘accidentally’ bumped into him at the gym just to hold a short conversation. toji’s eyes were everywhere—the sight of you out of breath, sweating whilst trying your best to look pretty when talking to him stirred his loins.

the dark-haired man knew you purposefully come and talk to him after each session. he knew that you always try to look confused in the gym when experimenting with a new machine just to catch his attention. toji knew all about your ‘innocent’ acts and yet he was falling for them. hard.

you were too good at that game of seduction and if it wasn’t for him risking the loss of his job, he’d have fucked you long ago. he’d have satisfied both your desires right at the gym with everyone seeing—he craved for a taste of you. he needed it. sooner or later.

so, toji took his chance. ‘it was now or never,’ he told himself as he approached you from behind. his presence was only sensed by you when his hands came in touch with your body.

one hand pressed onto your lower back slightly, the other on your upper thigh, fingertips digging onto the fat to help it slightly backwards, pushing your hips towards him—

“how many times do i have to tell ya, hm?” toji’s raspy voice whispers in your ear, his figure looming over yours making you feel caged between him and the treadmill you were facing whilst squatting, “arch your lower back just a tad bit more, push y’r hips back properly—mhm, jus’ like that. good, very good.”

you surprisingly do as told even whilst you were caught off guard by toji’s sudden appearance. your heart was beating out of your chest by the proximity of your bodies like this; your palms were getting sweaty. and not from your workout.

“y’re definitely gettin’ the hang of it.” your gym instructor comments, a faint hint of pride in his tone. he retracts his hands from your body, however not before teasingly letting his fingertips brush against the bottom of your ass, feeling up its shape in that single second of contact— “how’s your workout been today?”

you knew that touch was intentional. there’s no other explanation to the lingering stare on your ass as well. his eyes shamelessly took in your thighs and hips as if he wanted to be all over them, to touch them like he’d longed for so long.

“good. was about to take a break.” you reply. truth was, you weren’t. you only said so since toji was chatting with you at the moment.

there was an evident tension between you two—the way you took a sip from your water bottle whilst your pretty eyes were focused on toji’s ripped physique, your gaze that darted from his eyes to his lips, chest, lower body and back up. . . that game of seduction had gone on for way too long. toji had to have you. right here, right now.

that’s how you ended up clinging for dear life onto the treadmill in the corner of the building, your leggings and panties pushed down to your knees and toji behind you with his hands using your hips as leverage—his cock finally having a taste of your warm insides after all this time of fantasising about it during your lessons with him.

“fuck. . knew this pussy’d be fuckin’ tight—almost can’t move due to how much y’re squeezing me, doll.” the man’s rough voice spoke out whilst your wet folds were spread apart to fit his cock all the way in, his size massive to the point it almost hurt, “there you go, takin’ it so well.”

your walls clamped around his dick like you didn’t want him to ever move out of you—like this moment was all you had wanted from your encounters up until now. toji curses under his breath at the sight he’s finally seeing;

you trembling whilst he was balls deep inside of your greedy cunt that swallowed every single inch, even if it stung. what made it even better of an achievement was the fact that your ass was properly in his view now, fat jiggling with each press of his hips against it.

“hnngh—fuck me.. ah, please!” your stifled moans almost make toji’s eyes roll back. he loved those sounds of pure pleasure that escaped your lips—the ones which you couldn’t contain behind that hand clamped around your mouth.

it was risky after all; fucking in an open gym. you didn’t know if that one guy on the other side of the area had already left or not. you couldn’t see through all those machines and pillars obstructing your view. you just went with the logic that if you couldn’t see him, he couldn’t see you.

toji—being the absolute tease that he is—had seen your eyes wander across the section of the gym you were in. oh, he didn’t like it one bit that your attention was on anything other than him and his dick slamming into your sloppy pussy;

he stopped his movements and torturously slid his cock out of you until the head was all what was left inside, prodding into you every now and then like he was going to slam it back fully, only for nothing to occur. toji bit the inside of his cheek; rough hand landing hard on the left side of your ass, the other side getting its turn a second after you whimper.

the process repeats which makes your back arch deeply, hips instinctively moving back and then forwards—basically fucking yourself on his cock. toji liked that desperation in you. that’s what he wanted to gain out of his actions.

“hah—ya can push those hips back properly now, ay?” your gym instructor exhales through his nose, hand traveling from your ass to your hair, yanking that low ponytail of yours back. his sharp eyes scanned your backside as if you were a piece of meat, his hips grinding against your ass, kneading the flesh with his pelvis, “remember this when y’re squatting again—the position of your back like this, the slight arch—fuck.”

even in a predicament like this, toji used it to teach you about your form during your squats. not that you knew what that man was saying. you were too focused on the way he was slowly stroking his dick in your pussy, wanting the tip to reach the deepest parts.

“shiitt,” toji sighs before a noise—almost a low whistle—forms in the back of his throat. the pleasure kept building up inside of him and he knew that he could cum just by a bit of grinding against that plump flesh of your ass, his balls rubbing against the curves of it, “this body of yours ‘s gonna make me lose my mind, doll.”

but, toji didn’t want to end it with that. he was here to give you the pounding of your life—teach you another lesson which was unrelated to your workouts; the lesson of what happens if you try to seduce a man like him.

toji wastes no time and grabs your hips again, angling his own to hit your g-spot with each rough thrust once he resumes the movements. each press to that sweet area makes your legs shake, lips moving frantically, though only incoherent and slurred words leave your lips in quiet moans;

“nghh! toji, ‘s too good!” you whine, your own hand still clamped around your mouth to keep yourself quiet. you were always vocal during sex, but it was a bit risky to let yourself go in a public space like this, “mmph!”

though, with the fact that you were getting the pounding of your life right now, there was no denying the fact that it was impossible to stay fully quiet. a few lewd moans escape—toji tugging at your hair each time as a warning,

“sshh, don’t w’nna get me fired, do ya?” the man behind you grins. he isn’t even worrying in the slightest that this moment was probably getting caught on the cctv camera footage in the gym.

toji could easily get rid of those himself since he works at the gym and has some internal connections, but it’d make it all so difficult if somebody were to catch you in the act, “if ya keep quiet, we’ll do this more often, yeah?”

you shiver at that promise. you could already imagine all the times you can have toji to yourself in the future; how he’ll press you to a bench and fuck you—or maybe he’ll even take you in bathrooms. it was such a turn on. that’s all what was needed to shut you up in an instant;

“good girl.” that gruff voice murmurs once more, the pressure in your stomach builds, the coils forming threatening to snap any minute now for both of you. toji’s self control was hanging by a thread.

that same thread snapped in half the moment you let out a whiny and vulnerable whimper in the form of his name. with one hard thrust, toji presses his hips firmly against your ass, grunting as he makes sure to dump his load the furthest he could—the warmth of the sticky liquid filling your senses eventually stimulated you enough to reach your own climax.

“easy there, doll.” your gym instructor thrusts once, twice before pulling himself out of you, leaving the mixture of fluids leaking down by your legs. he huffs at the sight, taking it in for a couple seconds whilst kneading your ass between his fingers.

toji grabs a tissue he had somewhere in the pocket of his sweatpants and wipes his tip before tucking himself back in his boxers—pulling his pants up and readjusting his appearance like nothing ever happened.

toji puts the used napkin in your shivering hand and nods at you. you were a pretty thing whilst fucked out of your mind, that he could indeed confirm in a singular moment of eye contact.

he sighs and leaves you to fend for yourself as he starts to walk towards the stairs that lead to the third floor, probably to take care of something. you never know what he’s up to when he’s not in the gym—a mysterious man.

before the gym instructor vanishes, he does leave you a hushed message on his way to the staircase, head cocked to the side to look at you from his peripherals whilst he walks;

“clean y’rself up and continue with your work out. will be back in a few to check in on ya.”

#sttoru writes.#jjk smut #jjk x reader #toji x reader #toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #jjk x you #toji x you #toji fushiguro x reader

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hannieween · 7 months

Text

pushing and pulling | joshua hong

› pairings: joshua hong x female reader › genre: angst, fluff, smut (18+) › aus: nba player joshua, playboy joshua, love affair › word count: 8k

this post is connected a nba joshua playboy request (you can find it in my page on the reqs tag)

› nsfw tags under the cut

› warnings: slight hurt/comfort, toxic vibes, reader is married, body worshipping, oral sex, pussy drunk shua, soft-dom joshua, oblivious pining, love making, unprotected p in v sex, lotus position, a bit of cockwarming, creampie, reader is on the pill, joshua is kind of a jerk but sweet in some way, pet names: baby (hers)

› big big thank you to @cvntrlseecvntrlvee who beta read this for me and helped me edit and with the more tricky aspects of joshua pouring his heart out to you ( > 〰 < )♡

› also thanks to @glowunderthemoon who brainstormed with me and recommended 100 ways by jackson for this chapter. i wanna kiss your genius brain

› disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂.

pushing and pulling

The elliptical beeped softly as Joshua forced it to a stop. He kept his breathing steady, but he couldn't ignore the impulsive need to wipe the sweat off his face.

He looked closely at his progress. Feeling content, he climbed down, wiped the machine and walked away to finally commence his general training.

The gym was particularly deserted. As expected from a Friday afternoon. Joshua had just finished warming up and moved to do some bench presses. It was his usual Friday routine, except he mostly went during the mornings.

But last night he couldn't sleep. And he didn't have any plans for the rest of the night, so, the gym it is.

He kept the music in his earphones at a high volume to drown out the music blasting from the gym's fancy sound system and the lonely goers who were working on the other weight machines.

Why do they have to let the weights drop that loud? So noisy.

He kept pushing the bar up and then slowly pressed it back down with a controlled motion, letting strained exhales escape his mouth. It was one of his favorite exercises to do. He was lying back on the bench, and staring at the ceiling, listening to music—he could reflect like this.

Until he sat back up on the bench, having finished his rep, and stood up to look for something to clean up the bench after him. That was when he caught sight of you, in the far distance of the gym. You were using a treadmill, looking straight at your reflection in the mirror up front.

Maybe you just got to the gym, he thought from the look of you. Your well-kept hair was braided, there was no sweat on your face from what he could see and well, he hadn't seen you until now.

Joshua kept doing his exercises as normal. But he couldn't shake off the tight knot that had parked in his stomach since he saw you there.

In fact, every time you crossed his mind he felt that way. And he thought of you constantly. He replayed over and over in his head the memory of the events that led you to the first time you kissed him.

It had been a rushed, heated kiss—but everything that happened before it took its time. At every chance, when you crossed paths, you'd sent him glances that, at first, obfuscated him a little.

Until one night, at a private event. After many suggestive looks exchanged between Joshua and you, in a perfect moment, your husband was out of the way and you got Joshua to follow you down a fire exit. One thing led to the other.

He didn't know you went to the same gym as him—though it could be something he expected since everyone on his team used it. It was quite the exclusive place.

He kept checking on you every now and then. It seemed that you were just running because half an hour passed and you hadn’t left your spot.

That's how he slowly gathered the little details about you, the bags under your eyes, the sad look on the features of your face.

So he kept to his regular training—working his lats, his triceps, biceps and then finishing with abs. Push and pull kinda day. It was supposed to be only pull but well, what gives.

Joshua moved from the last machine, cleaned it off, threw the towel away and walked towards the locker-rooms. Thinking of getting a shower, grabbing his stuff and heading home. Maybe drink a beer and hopefully, sleep.

"What are you doing here?"

Joshua removed his earphones. You had cornered him almost as if you had planned it, and possibly did. He looked over his shoulder as a precaution, the hall was empty.

"What are you doing here?" you repeated, your tone anxious and shifty eyes roaming all over him.

"Baking a cake," he responded nonchalantly.

"Tsk, fine," you scoffed and looked the other way.

Joshua paused and took consideration over what he saw in you, the stale, emotionless about you. Unusual. The features of your face looked torn, instead of the usual kindness he usually saw in them. He confirmed his suspicions that you weren’t sleeping well either when he saw the darkness under your eyes, and the paleness that stole the color from your lips.

Even with that dead look in your eye, Joshua was convinced that you were the prettiest girl he'd ever seen. Although all you and Joshua ever did was throw snarky comments at each other, sometimes while fucking, even then, he always thought you were sweet and cute.

"How about we start over?"

"What?"

"Hi?" Joshua joked. "How are you? No?"

"Josh," you sighed and took a hand to your forehead, where your fingers rubbed your frown tiredly. "Sorry, you know what, you're right. I'm being a little on edge."

Joshua couldn't blame you for that. In fact, he felt like he might be the only person in the world that would understand what you're going through.

He leaned in, his doe eyes reading you carefully. "Do you need to talk?" he asked, his voice devoid of all snarkiness. It was his usual tone, honeyed.

You raised your eyes at him, glinting in such a way that it only made the knot in his stomach twist harder. "Yeah, I–," you choked up. "I... uh..."

"Did you come here by car?" he promptly asked and he saw the spark in your eyes change. Excitement, fear, as if the answers you desired so greatly were all found in him, in that question.

"I walked," you frowned softly. "Why?"

Joshua dug on the inside of his sweats and pulled out the key to his car. "Black Audi A8," he instructed: "Wait for me inside. I'll take no more than 10 minutes."

You pocketed the key in your gym bag quickly. "What are you going to do?"

"Take a shower," he said and started to turn to walk down the hall. "See you there."

Joshua closed the door of his car, settling on the seat.

You handed him the key to his car. "Hi," you mumbled shamefully.

"That's better," he joked, taking the key and thrusting it into the ignition. He drove away from the underground parking lot. As soon as he was within the vicinity of his place and the silence had turned somewhat unpleasant, he sent you a glance. "It's been a while."

You had been keeping your head turned to the side. But you nodded, and you met his brief gaze. "Yeah I've... been busy."

Joshua kept his comments to himself from that point. His mind had started reeling instead. He parked on his spot and as soon as he turned the engine off, he opened the glove compartment, pulling out a cap.

"Here," he offered you the cap.

"Are you serious?" you asked, sending him a bewildered look.

"Listen, I'm not risking someone seeing you here with me and start asking questions," he emphasized those words, knowing what value they had to them.

Because he was the nation's favorite playboy. The one who’s got the eyes and heart of the media. The heartthrob. Ever since his career skyrocketed, this fame, this persona, it had been following him close by like a shadow.

Though all a lie, it seemingly had fooled you too.

"Fine," you said, taking the cap, which was his team's merch, putting it on with a huff. Then you mumbled with dry sarcasm: "How do I look?"

"Pretty, as always," he smirked and pushed the door to get out of his car.

You followed him inside the elevator, down a hall and into his apartment.

"I would've assumed we'd reach the penthouse," you quipped as soon as you were inside.

Joshua turned the first lamp in the corner of the living room. The curtains were drawn wide open, letting in the view of the skylight. He snickered as an attempt to deflect from the constant judgment of his character.

"Why is that?" he asked with a low tone and motioned you over with one of his large hands.

"I dunno," you mumbled and walked over to the fancy large couch. "May I?"

"Of course," he replied and went over to the open kitchen to open the cabinet, grabbing two short glasses. "Drink?"

"Sure, uh," you breathed out shakily. "I only assumed that you'd be like the rest of 'em, you know. Showy, living on the top of the highest building, throwing out money wherever you go."

"Pff," he scoffed, throwing some cubes of ice into each glass. "You've known me long enough to know that's not my style."

That comment seemed to rattle you a bit. You stilled in your seat and when Joshua offered you the glass of whisky, you stared at the ice cubes for a moment.

Joshua was your husband's best friend. You have been part of each other's lives for long enough to know that his lavish lifestyle was nothing compared to the one of your husband's.

But Joshua is nothing like your husband.

Jake, your husband, is the one that the media loves. He is the golden boy, team captain, the one with the most deals, money and fame. The guy who gets all the recognition for being such a good husband.

"Jake is cheating on me," you breathed, letting those words out for the first time since you found out. They hit you like a punch in the gut, and your eyes instantly brimmed with tears of shame, guilt and regret.

Joshua was still standing between the couch and the coffee table, right in front of you. So he sat down by your side, leaving his drink beside yours, not quite looking in your eye as he sighed.

"I know."

Of all the reactions you were expecting, all the scenarios you ran in your mind, you never thought that he would say that.

Because he was your secret.

"How long have you known?" you demanded with a strangled tone.

He turned his head to look at you now, your gazes met and he decided to take a large gulp of his whisky before replying: "Ever since he slept with the first girl."

"Then you've known for..."

"Does it matter?"

Your eyes stopped shifting from side to side, the frantic train of thoughts slowed down. "Yes," you said slowly. "How come you've never told me?"

"I was going to but," he exhaled softly. "You sought me out before I could."

"So you were fine with us fucking and never acknowledging it?" you were quick to put two and two but then, "Why?"

"I thought that was what you needed."

"Joshua..." you whispered. "Why? Are you okay with–, why would you never say something about it?"

"I'm okay with whatever you want me to be," he muttered, looking straight into your eyes now. "I knew you needed me, you didn't need to tell me why. I knew."

"So all this time, when you've taunted me about it, to tell him... was it all just for fun? To get yourself off, to make yourself feel better–"

"To play my part," he sighed and went for another gulp of whisky and when you didn't say anything, he elaborated: "Famous playboy. Isn't that the reason why you went to me?"

You looked away in shame. "You're also his best friend. I figured the more excitement you'd get the less I would have to explain," It was your turn to drink from your glass, which you did so slowly.

"Was."

Your stomach dropped. Something in you had worked that out already, but you needed to hear the confirmation from him.

"What?"

Joshua took the glass between his lips, pouring the gold liquid down his throat. "Soon as he started boasting about it. I went low contact," he paused, the glass still lingering in front of his mouth before adding with a hint of disdain: "The dumbass hasn't even realized that I don't want to talk to him."

He looked at you with caution, expecting to see you crying, showing some emotion. Instead, you were mindlessly staring at the ice cubes sitting at the bottom of the now empty whisky glass.

"How did you find out, anyway?" he risked asking, trying to keep your attention still. He felt like you slipping away in your thoughts was dangerous.

"He stopped paying attention to me completely, he even recoils from my touch," you mumbled and your lip quivered a little. "So I started suspecting."

A silence followed and as the seconds went on, Joshua started getting anxious.

You licked your lips, raising your eyes and finding his. "He keeps things from the girls he sleeps with inside a box," you rasped out dryly. "Lingerie, earrings, hair ties... I'm also sure he's taken them to the house."

"Jesus," he hissed, downing the rest of the liquid to discard the glass on the coffee table and rubbing his hands on his face, trying not to succumb to the overwhelming rage he was feeling. "I'm so sorry."

"I'm not sure if he either wanted me to find it or he's too stupid to actually keep it well hidden," you sighed. "It's driving me crazy these days."

"Do you have a plan? Do you know what you'll do?" he asked, trying with all his might to derive his attention back to you.

"I have nothing," you whispered.

"Does he know you went out tonight?"

"Jake's not in town. He flew out to visit his family and friends," you rolled your eyes and scoffed.

Joshua didn't need proof to know that was a blatant lie. And it seemed that you knew it too.

You finally set back the empty glass on the coffee table and let out a tired sigh.

"Can I ask you something?" you muttered with a tiny voice.

Joshua knew what was coming. So he relaxed on the back of the couch, shifting one leg over the seat to sit facing your body. He even propped an elbow on the headrest of the couch to lean his head on his fist.

"Shoot," he mumbled.

"Why are you doing this?" you glanced at him shyly. "You said that you no longer speak to Jake, but you pressure me to tell him either way. Are you–," you choked up again, but now due to your nervousness you started blurting: "Why do this, why agree to have an affair with me?"

"At the beginning, I felt sorry for you," he said reluctantly, feeling ashamed of himself as he looked away briefly. "You looked lonely. And I knew why. So."

"That still doesn't answer my question," you whispered, trying to read his doe eyes under the soft glow of the lamps.

He leaned his head on one side, reading the expression on your face. Your features had relaxed, no longer containing the anxiousness from before.

"Is it not obvious?" he asked back and felt his own heart race slightly, he paused and decided to say: "I'm also lonely."

You made no inquiry about the alleged rumors, everything that the media says about the women who keep coming and going in his life. But he hoped that you would catch onto slowly that it was all an act created by the media to attract people in. And he was their puppet.

"Do you mind if I ask you a question?" he returned, blinking slowly at you, unable to look at anything else but your face.

"Shoot," you echoed with a shadow of a smile.

"Do you still love him?"

You held your breath and avoided his gaze again. "No," you blurted out, guilt washing over you. "I haven't for a while. Thought that much was evident, though."

"I needed to know," he replied, feeling a light rush of ecstasy run through him upon hearing your answer.

You smiled, but there was no happiness to that smile. It was sad, and had bitterness written all over it. Joshua had to understand then that you lost a good chunk of your life when your husband decided to sleep around recklessly.

But besides the empathy he felt for you, he was livid. He wasn't a man to endorse violence, but he couldn't deny the fact that he has had to contain himself several times before when your husband was boasting about his affairs.

"Hey," Joshua whispered, running the back of his index finger on your cheek. "I'm sorry you're going through this. I really am."

Your brow furrowed a little and your eyes widened, making you look a little lost. "Thank you, Joshua. I'm sorry this probably wasn't the way you wanted your Friday night to go."

"I had no plans for tonight," he explained, blinking slowly at you, an endearing look in his eyes.

"What would a regular night look like for you anyway?" you asked, leaning back on the couch, looking at him with curiosity.

"You're looking at it," he shrugged with ease and nodded. "Minus you being here, of course."

"Be serious," you scoffed at him.

"I am," he rolled his eyes with feigned annoyance. Joshua only kept his playboy image by flirting around. every once in a while, he would take a pretty model or actress to dinner.

You seemed to ponder for a second, without tearing your eyes from his face. "Well, you not being what the world says about you is definitely something I didn't expect," you confessed.

It was Joshua's turn to smile bitterly. "Yeah, who would've thought that the real playboy was the team captain, right?"

Your husband was the team captain. You immediately flinched a little with the realization that your husband's whole public image of being the perfect man was tainted not only by himself.

"Too soon?" Joshua mumbled shamefully.

"No, it's okay," you replied and cleared your throat.

But Joshua could see the gears in your brain turning. He couldn't blame you, he knew the feeling too well. It robbed him of sleep and held his peace of mind hostage every day.

"I'm sorry for pulling you into all of this," you told him. Your eyes were sincere, dimming with some regret just before you looked away.

"Don't be," he muttered softly, putting a hand on your knee to bring you some comfort. "I wouldn't do this if I didn't want any of it."

The features of your face relaxed at that and you met his eyes again. Your pretty hand slid on top of his in a gesture of gratitude. Then a thought crossed your mind—it seemed a little crazy that in all of this mess, you'd find a friend.

Even if the lines of that friendship had become blurry.

Joshua turned the palm of his hand over, so he was properly holding your hand now. You gave him a gentle squeeze, a warm feeling flooding in your chest and that made you sigh.

Then without thinking too much, he took the cap off your head, pushing some hairs off your face with his free hand. You didn't care how tender his touch felt, you welcomed it.

"Do you want me to take you home?" he asked with a low honeyed voice.

You shook your head silently, your hand was still in his so you just took the liberty to play with his pretty fingers, lacing them with yours.

"No one is waiting for me there," you muttered with a tiny voice and Joshua felt your words punch him in the chest. He felt overwhelmed by the urge to make you feel better, to take the pain from you.

So he just let it overpower him.

His hand came up to cradle your cheek, driving your gaze back to his again. What he wasn't expecting was you leaning your face against his touch, your free hand sliding on top of his and you closing your eyes.

He ran the pad of his thumb on your cheek, feeling your soft skin, then trailed to your lips, caressing them carefully until you opened your eyes again to find his.

You pressed your lips on the pad of his thumb. It wasn't a suggestive kiss, there was nothing in your eyes that meant that fiery need to which you had pulled him out the fire exit that first night he kissed you.

It was an affectionate kiss. But it only made him want more. He craved the softness, the tenderness, he needed you wholly.

So he took his shot, leaning in to rest his forehead on top of yours, the tip of his nose pushing against yours gently and he heard your breath hitch with a tiny moan as your lips brushed against his. He waited like this, waited for you to protest against this, to push him away.

But you gave in not a second later, pressing your soft lips against his own in a slow, tender kiss. You sobbed out some nervousness when you broke away, only to dive right in again with a deeper kiss, wet lips locking slowly, as if meeting each other again.

Joshua released your hand that was previously laced with his, using it to find your waist and pulled softly, motioning you closer. You understood what he meant without him having to break the kiss to say it.

So you sloppily moved your knees on the couch to sit on his lap, straddling him. Your hands cupped his face, now demanding a hungrier kiss from him, which he responded willingly with a low grunt that coiled in his throat.

The kiss suddenly came to a stop with a smacking sound. Heavy breathing filled his ears before he opened his eyes to see the light frown on your face, your eyes desperately reading his features.

"What are we doing, Joshua?" you asked. Your voice sounded shaky and breathless.

"Going with it," he replied, heart pounding against his chest.

"But, after this. Where are we going with all of this?" you demanded and he knew you needed to get ahead of this. You were hurt and probably weren't looking to be hurt again.

Joshua squeezed your arm gently. "Wherever you want it to," he replied sincerely, his doe eyes looking up at you.

"Josh," a question formed on your lips, but then you leaned in to meet his lips with your own.

"Mm?" he responded, the soft lines between his eyebrows seemed to mark a little.

"Just..." you shook your head slightly and swallowed hard, thinking of the warmth in his hands parked in the small of your back.

Joshua understood the restlessness, the danger that you were putting yourself in by being with him like this. He felt it too. But he also knew that you thought about him everyday, all the time. Just like he thought about you.

He blinked slowly at you, with a warmth and homeliness that swept through him. "What do you want?" he asked.

You paused, seemingly absorbed by the question for a second. It was the first time in a long time that someone asked you that—it had been a while since you took into consideration what you wanted, too.

When you started this, you thought that having an affair with Joshua was a form of revenge. To get back at your husband for betraying you. But it slowly became something you couldn't stop, you became greedy about it.

Now, you weren't sure if greed was the only thing that you felt.

"I want you," you whispered, feeling a rush of adrenaline coursing through your body upon confessing it. "I don't care how. I just know that I do. I think about you every day and it's driving me crazy."

Joshua's heart pounded frantically against his chest, his eyes reading your face, trying to gather every detail in your features. He knew it already, but hearing you say it sent him into a frenzy. Nothing else mattered anymore.

His hand cupped the back of your head, pulling you into a kiss, lips sealing yours with a passion he didn't know he had inside him. He blindly searched for the scrunchie that secured your braid and pulled it, freeing your hair with a groan.

You shuddered when his fingers sank in your hair, grazing your scalp, holding a fistful to keep you in place as he kissed you hungrily, his plump lips exploring yours.

It was the first time he kissed you like this, without the haste or the snark. There was no fear of getting caught, no need to rush anything.

"Stay the night with me," Joshua whispered into your lips, feeling his breath catch under a surge of emotions.

"Okay," you whispered back without hesitation.

"Please," he added.

"I'll stay the night," you reassured him.

"Okay," he settled, pulling you into his arms, wrapping you as he kissed your lips hungrily, a soft moan spilling into your mouth when your hands cupped the back of his head.

Joshua felt torn between the need to do things slowly, he hadn't had the chance before to have you like this. Every time he's had the opportunity to kiss you or to have sex with you it's been in lonely corridors.

He didn't want to think about whether he would ever have you here like this again. He didn't want to think of the future and that made him irrational, careless.

Blindly searching for the hem of your clothes, he broke the kiss only to start undressing you. You raised your arms when he got rid of your hoodie you didn't see where it was thrown, Joshua was on your lips again, kissing you with urgency.

"Joshua," you muffled in his mouth. "Let's go to your room."

He nodded and wordlessly motioned you to stand up from his lap, fumbling for your hand to lead you down a dimly lit hall and pushed a door open, turning on the lights to the bedroom.

The room seemed dark upon first glance, the gray bedding contrasting only with the white pillows and the dim lighting of the overhead lamps. To your surprise, the scent of cinnamon hung in the air like a vague memory. As if a candle had been lit moments before he left the apartment to work out at the gym.

Joshua tugged at your arm, pulling you to his body so that he could wrap his arms around your body, leaning his head down to capture your lips with his own with a clumsy kiss as he walked you backwards until the back of your knees touched the edge of his bed.

"Sit down," he instructed softly. "Let me take care of you, yeah?"

Your breath hitched slightly, as your body began to heat up as soon as you sat down on his bed.

In one motion he pulled off his sweatshirt, exposing his bare torso. He had minor bruises and scratches on his sides and chest, but you knew it was normal, either from training or from how easily his skin bruised. Or both. While some looked old and faint, other bruises looked black and blue.

With little care for taking his time, he removed your clothes, he wanted you bare as soon as he could so he could finally see you. All the times he has been with you like this, all the times he's had sex with you have been fully clothed.

So when you laid in his bed, wholly naked below him, he sighed out his delight over you. He pressed a knee on the edge of the mattress, placing his hands at each side of your head to lean over your body.

He hummed as he pressed kisses in your lips, once, twice. "You're so beautiful," he muttered in between as his lips moved in yours seamlessly, melting into a more demanding and passionate kiss.

Your eyes sparked with some amazement when he pulled back. He wondered if your husband ever said that to you, because you looked befuddled for a second.

"Yeah, you are," he muttered, a small smile crowning his pretty lips. "The prettiest girl I've ever seen."

"Josh," you chuckled warmly. "Don't go all sweet on me now."

"What, you thought I couldn't be anything but horrible to you?" he teased, kissing the apple of your cheek.

"I like the way you are," you confessed when his lips trailed down to the underside of your jaw, making you whimper a little when he placed an open kiss at the base of your throat.

"Yeah?" he muttered, ignoring the feeling shaking his heart. "Why?"

"Y-you're softer than you let on," you stammered, fingers trembling as you grazed his scalp to grab his hair. "You are kind and fun to be around. You're nothing like the world says about you."

"Mmn now who's going sweet on me," he teased, reaching down to kiss your tits, littering kisses all over, not trying to be sensual or to arouse you. He was simply exploring your body with his lips.

But it was quite obvious that you would become aroused. Your body responded by tensing up under his, your fingers clenching into fists, one gripping the bed covers, the other in his hair.

"Josh," you whimpered, when his tongue lapped around one of your nipples, now teasing it with the tip of his tongue, tasting your skin with a delightful groan.

While he did the same to your other nipple, his hand cupped your breast fully, his fingers gently digging into your soft skin, licking your nipple, his tongue swirling around it. His lips wrapped around your hardened nipple and suckled at it slightly.

"Fuck," you breathed, your thighs clenching when a sharp arousing feeling shot through your body.

Joshua hummed softly, detaching his mouth from your nipple with a soft smacking sound and moved to plant a soft kiss on your lower lip. "Will you let me eat you out, baby?" he lifted a hand from the mattress to pinch your chin. "Mn?"

A hot wave sizzled beneath your skin in anticipation. "Yeah," you choked nervously. "Please do."

He smiled before diving in for another chaste kiss and climbed down the bed. His hands came up to grab your thighs from the underside of your knee and pulled your body down so your butt was aligned to the edge of the bed.

Joshua got down on his knees and you propped yourself on your elbows on the mattress to follow his movements, his hands motioning your legs to rest on his shoulders, holding your thighs to help you do so.

"You have the prettiest pussy," he sighed before pressing his lips on your pussy lips, right before lapping his tongue on your folds with a broad stroke, his hands gripping your thighs decisively.

You let your head hang back with a low cry of pleasure, sneaking one hand to grab at his hair again, holding for dear life. His tongue explored your cunt fully, not neglecting a single inch of skin, of your folds, drinking in your arousal.

Joshua darted a look at you. Your head was thrown back and your chest was heaving slightly, only to suck in a breath as his tongue slowly made its way up from your entrance to your clit.

"Oh, god," you gasped when he started pushing his tongue against your clit gently, teasing it first to get it to swell. The sizzling sensation beneath your skin only intensified, making you moan through clenched teeth.

A hand climbed up from your thigh and parked on your lower tummy, palm pressing back on your skin just as his tongue swirled around your clit in swift figure eight motions, unrelenting in their pace, perfectly drawing you closer to the edge.

You eased back on the mattress, biting your lip to focus on the flicking of his tongue on your clit, the way it made the muscles of your inner thighs twitch in response to the sweet teasing. "Joshua, 'm close," you sighed.

Joshua hummed in response, applying more pressure to his large hand on your lower tummy, his low moan vibrating against your sensitive bud.

You slowly fell apart, moaning his name loudly as your sweet orgasm sizzled beneath your skin, washing over you completely, making you tremble on his bed until you are half conscious.

"Joshua," you repeated his name over and over breathlessly. You had released his hair, laying languidly on the edge of his bed as you slowly came down from your high.

But Joshua wasn't done.

His tongue lapped between your folds, dipping into your entrance with a soft groan upon finding that your core throbbed for more. With a soft hum he returned to give your cunt a deep open kiss, making you flinch slightly.

"Josh, please," you breathed out. "I need you... right now."

You sat up clumsily just as he detached his mouth from your cunt, a shudder going through you when you saw the glistening wetness dripping from his mouth and chin, which he wiped with the back of his hand.

"Come here," you motioned when he stood up and you reached out to hook your fingers on the band of his gray sweats, looking up to his eyes as you pulled both his boxers and sweats down for him to step out of them.

You grabbed his cock with one hand, rolling your hand over to his bulbous head, smearing the precum gathering on his slit to give him a few pumps. You brought his tip to your mouth, giving him shy kitty licks before darting a look to his eyes.

His hand brushed your hair gently before cupping the side of your head. "I thought you needed me, baby," he teased and nodded his head to the bed. "Lie back."

You crawled backwards on his large bed and lied back at the same time that he crawled on top of your body, slotting himself between your thighs with a sigh.

"Let me be on top," you breathed, bumping the tip of your nose against his before kissing him. "Please?"

Joshua looked at you with some amusement written in his eyes, he thought of a snarky remark, to tease you before giving into your request. But instead of that, he nodded and rolled over.

"Sit up," you asked softly, moving on your knees to straddle him.

Joshua smiled and sat up, his hands immediately reaching out to grab your waist. "What are you doing, baby?" he chuckled breathily as you sat on top of him, clumsily wrapping your legs around him.

"Just let me do this," you said with a furrowed brow, scooting so that you could align your core to his cock, guiding with your hand before pushing your hips to sheathe him inside you with one thrust.

"God," he breathed out, the tone of his voice raw as his head dropped on your shoulder. "Fuck, baby."

"D'you like that?" you asked innocently, swaying your hips gently against his and biting back a moan over how good he felt stuffed inside you.

He slowly lifted his head to face you. "Yeah, baby," he sighed with an embarrassed smile as he added: "I missed you."

You shuddered upon hearing his confession. "I m-missed you too, Josh."

"Yeah?" he mouthed.

You nodded shyly. "All the time," you admitted.

You realized that you didn't have to go fast to achieve a high, you were just fine with rutting against his hips, feeling every inch of his cock sheathed inside your warmth. The pleasure written on his face was enough for you to stifle a moan, biting your lower lip.

His dark eyes glimmered under the soft glow of the overhead lights of his room, you saw his mouth part a little before he blinked and dropped his head in your chest, muffling a raw moan in your tits. His hands firmly placed on your ass, pressing down each time you sank down on him.

"Leave him," he muttered against your chest, leaving a trail of kisses leading to your heart.

"Joshua," you whispered, your hand slid up his nape, feeling his soft black hair.

"Leave him," he asked again, now lifting his head from your chest to lock eyes with you. "Please."

You thought of telling him all of the implications of that action alone. Because you've thought about it, you wanted to. You've thought about it countless times but there was always something in the way.

"I'll help you," he swallowed hard. "I'll protect you."

"Joshua," you insisted again. "Please, don't. I can't get you more involved."

Joshua let out a breathy laugh. "I think it's a little too late for that, baby," he said slowly, his eyes glinting with some emotion as you kept bouncing gently on top of him.

You read his face, the honesty in his eyes as he kept looking at you. "Are you sure?" you muttered, holding onto his shoulders with your hands to keep your pace steady.

But he held you through, guiding the sway of your hips with his pretty hands. He nodded with his head. "I've never been more sure about something."

A sharp pain twisted inside your chest, you shuddered and rested your forehead on top of his. "Why? What changed?" you whispered against your better judgment. But you needed this.

"I want to do this," he said, but that wasn't the whole truth.

"I don't want this to hurt you in any way," you muttered.

"Come on, baby," Joshua smiled softly at you, his hands sliding up the line of your back wrapping his arms around you. "Don't go all sweet on me."

"Please Joshua," you insisted, a slight tinge of urgency humming in your tone and you pulled your forehead back to see his face fully.

Joshua's mind began to reel. He considered two things, his most instinctive reaction was to lie and deflect the very evident truth (though not to you) that he was in love with you. The second one, and one that he wasn't too keen on, was to just tell you later.

His hands traveled down to your lower back, grabbing your hips to help you move on top of him with more urgency. He didn't need to finish, but he was hoping he would distract you.

You dug your heels into the soft covers to anchor yourself and started pushing against his hips purposefully. "Why now? Tell me," you whispered. And he saw it in your eyes, you were already suspecting.

"Stay with me," he replied, his voice low but full of certainty.

"I'm not going anywhere, I told you I'd stay," you replied, your sweet voice taking a tinge of concern.

He shook his head slightly. "I don't want you to leave," he said through a ragged sigh. "Stay with me."

He knew he was crossing a line, he was about to find out if you wanted him as much as he wanted you.

Your eyes remained on his, and he wished for a second to know what you were thinking. The rolling of your hips came to a stop and Joshua thought that you'd get up and leave. His heart vibrated against his chest frantically.

You gave him a slow nod with your head, it was almost a mechanical movement. Okay, you mouthed, okay.

"Yeah?" he whispered, his eyebrow arching slightly. He licked his lips before bringing a hand up to cup your chin and kissed your lower lip softly.

You nodded with eagerness now. "Yeah," you let out a soft laugh. "Why, where does this come from?" you asked.

"What do you mean?" he hummed, egging you to retake the movement of your hips, wanting to feel your tight walls sliding on him again.

You tilted your head back as Joshua moved his lips down your chin, trailing along the line of your jaw. And you let your eyes close to focus back to the motion of your hips, his hard cock on your fluttering walls and you moaned when his lips reached your throat.

"You were meant to be mine," he murmured against your skin. "He was introducing you to me, before everything."

Jake was supposed to introduce you to Joshua. But then he decided he wanted you for himself and you didn't meet Joshua until you were already dating your husband. And it was fine by him, he thought nothing of it at first.

But then he got to meet you.

"You are..." Joshua dipped his face on the crook of your neck, letting out a soft sigh against your skin. "You are the sweetest girl I've ever met."

His lips left an open kiss on your throat, making you squirm a little and moan. Your hand shifted from the back of his head to cup his cheek and you leaned your head, breathing erratically due to the movement of your hips on him.

"Leave him," he said again, but now you felt like you were losing him to a frenzied trance. His eyes were doing that thing again, glimmering under the soft lighting of the room.

"I will, I'll leave him," you hummed and your heart stuttered, breaking over the man that was looking at you like a lost puppy.

He moaned softly when you captured his lips with your own, his hands held your body, shifting to feel your skin, your back, your arms, until they parked at your thighs, kneading softly at the rhythm of the gentle sway of your hips.

"Joshua," you sighed a moan with some urgency.

Joshua turned your body over, pressing your back onto the mattress and slotting himself between your parted thighs to sink into your walls again with a loud groan from his part.

Now on top of you, he could do what he hadn't had the chance to until that moment. As he pulled his hips back, to then press against yours again, his cock dragging in and out of you, fucking you slowly, he could only think of one thing.

"Let me love you," he muttered with a raw tone, looking into your eyes, his hand met your cheek. "Be mine."

A sob coiled in your throat, making his eyes shift to your mouth and back to your eyes. He knew he had struck something in you, and he knew what you felt.

You gave him a fucked out nod, parting your mouth but no words came out.

"Mn? D'you want me to love you?" he asked with a honeyed purr, a smile stretching his pretty lips when you nodded again. "Are you mine?"

"Yeah, yeah," you whimpered between gasps he drew out with each thrust.

He grabbed your leg, hiking your knee up his shoulder to push deeper into you again with a loud cry of pleasure from your part, making tears gather on the corners of your eyes as he started sinking his cock in your walls again.

"I'm gonna love you," he gasped, the enunciation alone robbing him of air as he slowly pushed himself into a mad love surge for you.

Pleasure bloomed inside your body, inundating you with overwhelming waves, your mouth parted further and your brows knitted. The hand that wasn't holding onto him cupped his cheek, driving his gaze to yours.

"Are you gonna come, baby?" he hummed, enjoying the look on your face when you were close.

"Yeah," you gasped out lewdly, closing your eyes to welcome in the sweet wave of pleasure that shot through you briefly. "'m so close."

"Mmn, yeah baby? Gonna come with me?" he grunted, pushing his cock into your walls, his lip quivered slightly, letting out a raw moan through. "Want me to come inside you?"

"Yeah, please. Please, Josh," you whined pathetically, letting out a strangled moan as you slowly started to lose control, sweet pleasure washing over you, making your thighs shake. "Ohh god, mn, 'm gonna–'m–,"

"I know, I know, baby," he replied gently, feeling your walls clamping down around his cock, your warmth swallowing him, tipping him over the edge too. Joshua moaned in your mouth, spilling himself into you with deep hard thrusts.

"Joshua," you squirmed under the weight of his body as he fucked you through your long and sweet orgasm, making a mess on the bed covers.

With a couple of sloppy thrusts, he waited until you stopped shaking to ease your leg back to the mattress, carefully and pressed his chest against yours. He decided to remain quiet, relaxing into the gentle shock of confessing so much in a span of a couple of minutes.

But he just turned his head, bumping the tip of his nose against the underside of your jaw before pressing a kiss on your skin. Breathing tiredly under his weight you caressed his back with your hands, feeling his soft skin and you let out a soft hum.

"Should we... let's get cleaned up," you muttered after some time, breaking the peaceful silence.

The weight of his body between your legs had started to cause some discomfort around the joints of your hips, but even then you didn't want him to break away from you.

With heavy reluctance, Joshua peeled from your body, climbing off the bed and offered you his hand again to follow him down the hall and to the bathroom, where you washed.

"I can lend you some of my clothes," he offered quietly when you came back to his bedroom, wrapped in one of his bathrobes.

He finished putting on some black boxers when he raised his head and found you standing in front of his large bed. He sat down on one corner, reaching over to you and wrapped his long fingers around your wrist to motion you between his thighs.

"Are you feeling a bit better?" he asked, reading your face, he saw that the color had returned to your lips.

"Yeah, I am," you whispered, caressing his shoulder with the palm of your hand. "I'm a bit scared, Josh."

"I know," he admitted, brushing your damp hair with his fingers and tucking it behind your ear carefully. "But we can plan this together. You're not alone."

That made your glimmering eyes lock with his. It felt like a blow to your chest to come to grips that Joshua was willing to help you and even more so, that he loved you.

"Thank you, Joshua," you said, the knot coiling in your throat stealing your voice. "For everything."

Joshua just nodded silently, bringing your hand to his lips to press soft kisses in your knuckles. "Let's sleep, okay? We'll plan tomorrow."

You wore one of his t-shirts to sleep, wrapped in his manly scent and his gray bed sheets.

At the beginning, you laid facing each other at arm's length. He assumed that you needed space, as it was the first time you slept with him.

So he was beginning to prepare for another sleepless night, but this time he was looking at the subject of his unrest. Even if you were right there with him, the pressing matter of getting you out of your failing marriage by any means necessary was causing him worry.

It took him several seconds to realize that you were still awake. Your eyes were closed, but you slowly moved your body closer to his, until your face nestled into the warmth of his neck. Joshua sighed with a smile and that made you tilt your head back so you could see his face.

"Go to sleep, baby," you whispered, looking at him fondly. "We'll plan tomorrow."

At that moment, he wrapped his strong arms around you, giving you a slow, languid kiss that went on until he couldn't kiss you anymore, until his body begged him to rest.

Joshua doesn't know how he managed to fall asleep in your arms, he believes that it was the gentle rhythm of your heartbeat that served as the best lullaby he could ever ask for.

He wished for more nights like this with you, though he wasn't sure when that would be possible.

Nor of the consequences it would bring.

› a/n: this was supposed to be a drabble

but to answer your question @thatgirlfromwindsor: i think joshua is an ass man. yeah 🤔

if you liked this, lemme know! a comment, a like, reblog, anything is appreciated! drop me an ask if you wanna, send me your filthy reqs, or not ᨐฅ💖

anyway now, i swear that next update will be city lights pt 8, i promise hehe

love you all (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)♡

toodles

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#joshua hong smut #joshua hong x reader #svthub #joshua hong x you #svt smut #joshua hong fanfic #seventeen smut #joshua hong imagines #svt drabble #hannieween #ff:pushing and pulling #hannieween.reqs

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jenroses · 11 months

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Hey! Please feel free to ignore but you did say to ask you about masks :P the ones I've found that are multiple layers for max protection are really stiff, which squishes my face and leads to gaps. Do you have recommendations? Thanks!

I know that there's a lot of noise about elastomeric masks but for me they're a nonstarter because of the stiffness you talk about. I think it's important to understand that most of the 94-95 standard masks that actually meet that standard are going to be plenty good enough where most people are concerned. Is it possible to catch Covid with a mask on? Yes. I've done it.

Is it likely? No. I'm immune compromised. This isn't data, but our experience has been that a combination of masks, reasonable common sense and good filtration are enough that despite having a school-aged child, a husband who travels for conventions, and me, immune suppressed, with a college student living in our house, I have only had covid twice, the first time was an unfortunate collision of me going to a store at the wrong time where a clerk had both covid and the flu and gave them to me, and the other one involved a family member not using a mask at a public event while eating. Even then, when I caught covid and the flu at the same time and isolated immediately with filtration and everyone coming into my space being masked... not one other person in our house caught it, and when someone else caught it a year later, the only people who caught it were sharing sleeping spaces. Our roommates did not catch it, and everyone was masking from the moment of the first positive test. When my kid got half-assed about masking at school, he immediately got flu and strep at the same time. I pointed out that his lack of care about it could mean a lot of missed school for him and serious health impacts for both of us, and he started wearing a mask again, and did not get sick for the rest of the school year. He HATES the masks that go behind the head and wears Armbrust kn95 masks exclusively (dark blue, lol) And it's pretty clear that without the masks he was getting sick a lot and with he just...doesn't. He is wearing them all day except for lunch through full school days, so that says something. Armbrust will send little behind the head doohickies to keep them off the ears but he never uses them. At $2ish per mask they're not the cheapest but he uses one mask for multiple days so it's not too bad overall cost wise. They have kid sizing, but he's in the regular adult size now at 11. Now, I'll talk about Armbrust for a minute because I really like the company. On pretty much every mask they sell you'll see a video of one of their people reviewing the mask and going over testing data... but they ALSO have reviews of almost every other mask on the market, bad, good and in between, and if you find a mask on Amazon or something and want to know more about it, search the mask name and "armbrust" and the youtube video and product data page will pop up. I've found several special masks for very particular needs by looking through their database for combinations of breathability and shape that weren't even masks they sold. So if you are struggling, take a look at the database, eliminate "failed" masks, look for the ones that meet your needs and then watch the video to see what he says about them first. There are some VERY inexpensive masks out there that work very well, and some masks that are incredibly breathable or incredibly high filtration and a few unicorns that are both.

Now Hubby is okay with the same KN95 masks that our son likes but he exercises and his lungs get a little touchy sometimes so he needs maximum ease in breathing, so using that database I found Dr. Puri masks. Here's the Armbrust review. Here's the listing I found them on. Hubby LOVES them. He also prefers behind the ear. About $1.50 each.

I *hate* behind the ear with a hot hate, they bug me. But I can't just use one type of mask all the time because I have EDS and neck issues so pressure there can be awkward, plus I get short of breath sometimes anyway (history of pulmonary embolism that long predates covid) and I have sensory skin issues.

Bar none the most breathable mask I've ever tried, which also does not fog my glasses, is the Drager mask. These are soft, extraordinarily easy to breathe through, and have a unique strap that makes on/off very easy, and lets you pull the top strap and let it hang around your neck if needed. Unfortunately it has a VERY snug fit across the nose and leaves marks on my cheeks, or it would be perfect, but it's a good option, and possibly someone with a smaller face would have an easier time. These are possibly the best filtering and most breathable masks on the market, so for high risk situations this is the mask I would use. They filter 99.7% in testing. They're a little more expensive at about $1.25 per when I checked today. For a good intersection of fit and comfort, but a little less breathable, are the ACI N95 surgical respirator duckbills. These do not leave marks, don't fog much, good seal around the face, and the single most comfortable head strap I've ever seen. The fabric is very smooth, it is sensory good, but the breathability is not as high. It's not hard to breathe through, it's just not as easy as Drager or Dr. Puri. But... They could probably pass an N99 standard by Armbrust's testing, as they filter >99.4% of particulate, where the standard is 95%. These are also incredibly cheap. If you get their subscribe and save discount (you can do every 6 months) you can get 50 for $25, so 50 cents apiece.

All of these masks are pretty soft, easy to wear, and very good at what they do.

The TL:DR though.... The important thing is to find a mask that you will wear consistently and correctly every time you need it. A mask that hangs on your face and slips is not a good mask for you. A mask you hate so much you make excuses not to wear it is not a good mask for you. A mask that breaks easily or makes it hard to breathe so you end up taking it off is not a good mask. If what you have isn't working, there are LOTS of things that might.

Last Armbrust plug: THEY HAVE A SAMPLER PACK. You can buy a pack of a zillion different types and styles of mask and try a bunch! And order the one you like best! If you aren't sick, one sampler pack can be tried by the people in your household so everyone can figure out what works for them!

Also, I used to get sick very very often and now I just...don't. Not from contagious viruses, anyway. I don't understand why people are so cavalier about it. I've been sick less since 2020 than in any given six month period in my entire life. Despite being on immune suppressants.

#masks #face masks #n95 masks #covid isn't over

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orphiclovers · 2 months

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Here's a headcanon/theory: Kim Dokja has been to therapy pre-scenarios.

There's a couple of reasons I think this. First, it's likely that as an underage witness of a murder he was assigned a child psychologist, at least for the duration of the case and court proceedings. And after he was adopted by his relatives, I think they would definitely recommend to take him to psychological counseling for the severe trauma he suffered at such a young age.

And they probably did. No matter how neglectful they might have turned out as Kim Dokja got older, they had accepted him and this would have been common sense, recommended to them by the court, and would reflect badly on them if they didn't follow through.

Second, he must have seen a psychiatrist after his suicide attempt as a teenager. Also an extreme scenario where there would be pressure on his relatives to do something about his mental health.

And thirdly, just the way he acts? Whenever he's in a stressful situation, his most common reaction is 'take deep breaths and staying calm'. He does this CONSTANTLY. Here's just some examples.

This FEELS like 'I've been to therapy and they taught me to do breathing exercises there'. His singular ability to stay calm during all kinds of stressful scenarios is one of the big reasons kimcom relies on him so much. And even when that fails and he has a flashback, when the Fourth Wall stabilizes him, the first thing he does is control his breathing again.

#4th wall xanax metaphor. maybe #kim dokja #rare kdj post from me i know #orv #orv meta #omniscient reader's viewpoint #my posts

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thewritingofamadwoman · 10 months

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Stress Relief

The way Roy Kent (and Brett Goldstein) live in my head rent free 24/7.

Pairing: Roy Kent x Fem!Reader (established relationship)

Warnings: Fluff, some making out, and Roy Kent being a cocky little shit

Enjoy!

You wiped your hands clean on a towel and smiled at the young man on the table.

“Okay Sam, you’re all done. Continue to work on those stretches at home and you’ll be in tip top shape for the game next weekend.”

Sam Obisanya smiled back at you, slowly getting up off the table.

“Thank you again, so much. I will do all the exercises you’ve recommended, and I will also look into Pilates classes.”

You gave Sam a quizzical look.

“You don’t have to do that Sam, it’s just a sprained ankle…”

The young man laughed.

“Oh no I know, I just am interested in Pilates. I’ve heard it does wonders for your body, core, and state of mind.”

Sam looked at you so genuinely, that you couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. He was absolutely precious. Sam smiled at you again and waved goodbye before exiting the treatment room. Between Sam’s ankle, Dani’s knee and Jamie’s hamstring, you had been working nonstop all week, doing your best to heal them as best you could.

You were jotting down notes in Sam’s folder when you heard a knock on your door.

“Come in!”

Roy Kent walked in, shut the door behind him and let out the deepest sigh/growl you’ve heard in a while. You looked up and put the folder down on your desk, taking a second to admire the grouchy coach. Roy stood there, arms at his sides and shoulders back in his usual stance. His biceps bulging from underneath the short sleeves of his coach jersey, the watch on his right wrist gleaming under the florescent lighting in the treatment room. Your eyes trailed to Roy’s face; his brows drawn together in their usual frown and his lips following suit.

“Well hello to you, too,” you greeted playfully.

Roy raised an eyebrow at you and rolled his eyes warm heartedly.

“Hi,” he exhaled, his deep voice reverberating through you. God you loved his voice.

You waited for him to continue, seeing the thoughts running through his mind. Roy took another breath and let it all out.

“These fucks have got me more stressed out than the “girls nine under nine” ever did. Fucking shits.” Roy points a finger to the door behind him. I swear, if I have to hear Zava go on about his fucking avocado farm one more time, I’m going fucking quit and go back to being a fucking pundit.”

And there it was. You nodded sympathetically and moved off from the desk you were leaning on and waved your hand to the table in front of you, signally Roy to have a seat. The coach followed suit, letting out a huff of air as he did. You stepped on a mechanical lever underneath the table, causing the table to lower so that Roy was at a comfortable height for you. You placed your hands on his shoulders gently before giving them a tight squeeze.

“You’re not going to quit, baby. You just need a second to relax. You haven’t been to Maureen’s house in a few weeks now that I think of it. When was your last yoga session with the ladies?” You pressed down on Roy’s shoulders again, feeling the immense amount of tension he was keeping at the base of his neck.

Roy grunted at the feeling of your hands, slowly leaning into your touch.

“Maureen’s been dealing with her son’s upcoming wedding, and Carol’s neice is going through a divorce so we’ve all been pushing back our next yoga date.”

You smiled at how invested Roy was with his little yoga group. He always managed to melt your heart with the simplest of things.

“Well then, the solution is simple. You need a little bit of stress relief. You’re so tense Roy, all this pent up pressure isn’t going to do you any good. I’m going to take care of it, okay?”

You spoke as gently while beginning to massage Roy’s shoulders. You’ve been told by the team that you give the best massages known to man. And while it was part of your job as the team’s physio, right now you weren’t a PT. You were Roy’s girlfriend, ready to help your man relax. A few moments pass in silence, the only sounds in the room were of Roy’s deep breathing, and occasional moan whenever you came across a particular tender spot.

“Fuuuuuuuck” Roy groaned, relishing in the feel of your hands digging into the knots in his neck and shoulders. “That feels incredible,” he sighed, getting lost in the feel of it all. You smiled to yourself, glad to be able to help him in any way. Thirty minutes go by until you could no longer find any strained muscles under his shirt. You gave Roy’s shoulders one final squeeze, leaning down to give him a small kiss on the back of his head.

“All done. Hope you’re feeling a little less stressed, my love.”

Roy turns his head to face you, his eyes glossy as if he were in a dreamy state of mind.

“That was fucking mind blowing and exactly what I needed. Fuck you’re amazing. Thank you,” he praised, slowly turning his body and swinging his legs over the other edge of the table so that he was facing you. You beamed at his compliment, moving forward as well so that you were standing in-between his legs, the table allowing you to finally be able to stare directly into Roy’s eyes. Those deep, chocolate colored eyes that you’ve been in love with for quite some time.

“You’re welcome, baby.” You reply, leaning forward to give Roy’s a quick yet sweet peck on his lips. You loved the feel of his soft lips, plush and pillowy against your own. How something so soft could voice so many “fucks” in a day, you’ll never understand. But you loved it nonetheless. When you pulled back, you noticed Roy’s brows had softened significantly and there was a look of adoration in his eyes. You were sure it mirrored the look you gave him 95% of the time.

“Once Maureen and Carol get settled, and your yoga routine goes back to normal, your stress levels won’t be as high anymore. But until then, I’m more than happy to help you relieve it. Whether here or at home, you just come to me and I’ve got you. Okay?”

You gave Roy another little peck before you felt his lips twitch up into a smirk. You pulled back to find him looking at you mischievously. The hands that were unconsciously placed on your hips while you kissed began to slowly slide up your sides and back down to your hips.

“Going to help me relieve some stress, hmm? And at work no less? How naughty.”

The look he gave you in that moment set your insides on fire, and Roy took that moment to pull you closer to him, arms locking behind you to keep you in place. You couldn’t help the smile on your face as you wrapped your own arms around his neck, scooting as close as you could, your chest pressed up against his.

“Me? Naughty? I’m an angel,” you teased, drawing a pretend halo above your head.

Roy growled and leaned in, claiming your lips with his. You sighed into his kiss, your nails gently carding through his hair at the back of his head. Roy broke the kiss first but didn’t relent, moving his lips to your neck and planting wet kisses up and down the column of your throat. You felt your knees weaken, like they always did whenever Roy found that deliciously sweet spot right below your ear. You gasped, and Roy smiled onto your skin, kissing his way down slowly once more. His hands began to roam your body as yours found purchase on his shoulders.

“Oh God, fuck,” you whispered and giggled as you shivered when you felt Roy lick and suck at the base of your throat. Roy’s deep chuckle vibrated against you.

“Aww baby, you can just call me Roy,” he mused and rolled your eyes.

“Little shit,” you said breathlessly, pulling back as far as Roy would allow you, his arms still trapping you to him.

“As much as I’d like to continue this, I do have both Bumbercatch and Zorreaux due for an assessment soon. Buuuuut I can absolutely help you with your little stress relief issue at home later, okay?”

Roy smiled at you and nodded, grunting in agreement.

“Just one thing though, darling. You and I both know it’s not a “little” stress relief issue. Shall I remind you of last time, when you struggled to get all of me insi-“ you immediately cut him off, your hand cupping over his mouth, a blush engulfing your cheeks.

“Shuuuush! Shush! You know what I meant for fucks sake. Anyone can hear you, these walls are paper thin, you heathen!” You berrated, a giggle bubbling in your throat. Roy laughed against your hand and kissed your palm while you shook your head at him.

“Glad you’re feeling MUCH better, Coach Kent. Now shoo, send in Bumbercatch if he’s out there and I’ll deal with you later.”

Roy continued to smile at you and when you removed your hand, you got the full effect of his perfect smile. You couldn’t help your own smile as Roy hopped off the table and retreated to the door. You crossed your arms across your chest again as he turned around one final time before winking at you before exiting. You heard him loud and clear as he made his way back to the locker room.

“Oi! Bumbercatch! You’re needed in physio. Move!”

You shook your head and laughed to yourself before you wiped down the table and set up the room. This was going to be a very long afternoon.

#roy kent x reader #roy kent x you #Roy Kent x fem!reader #Roy Kent oneshot #Roy Kent imagine #Roy Kent fanfic

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senualothbrok · 14 days

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Come What May

Summary: On what Gale believes is his last night alive, you cannot give him your body. But there are countless ways to declare love, and infinite ways to express it.

An alternative act 2 romance scene, featuring a Tav who is a cleric of Ilmater. "Come What May" is a song from "Moulin Rouge".

AO3 link

Non-18+. Angst with a happy ending.

Trigger warnings: references to prostitution (Tav's mother), sexual trauma, grief/bereavement, graphic depictions of illness, Gale's suicidal ideation.

A/N: This fic is a response to the anon who requested an alternative act 2 romance scene between Gale and a Tav who wants to save intimacy for after marriage. I feel that I should apologise because I am clearly incapable of writing a straightforwardly sweet/romantic piece which does not involve trauma and angst of some sort. I have no idea why this happened, please forgive me.

Please note the trigger warnings and exercise self-care. It is, however, angst with a happy ending.

I highly recommend listening to "Come What May" from Moulin Rouge during/after you read this.

I deliberated over whether to post this. It feels like my weakest work, and I feel slightly ashamed about it. I'm still not sure if it's good enough to post, but decided to bite the bullet because I wanted to give it to the anon who reached out. I really hope it does bring some comfort and enjoyment to someone out there.

I cannot thank my dear friends @inglorionamy-ammy and @dekariosclan enough for being truly wonderful beta readers and helping me with some major edits on this piece. Thank you and I am forever grateful for your kind hearts and keen minds.

“I’m in love with you.”

There is anguish in Gale’s eyes. His voice trembles with fear and urgency. You feel it all, a sunbeam shooting through the blue-green haze he has conjured around you. For you.

You gaze at him, breathless. Nothing compares, not even the beauty and wonder of his creation. When Gale looks at you, you do not feel dread, that ancient squirming beneath your skin. He is not the lumbering colossus of your nightmares, leaving a trail of whimpering bruises on your mother’s flesh. When he is near, you feel a yearning to draw closer, not away. You had never thought that possible with a man.

In that moment, you are possessed by a wild terror. An agonising thought that he will slip through your fingers, as though he never was. His last night alive.

Your heart surges, and you cannot stop it. You answer without thinking.

“I’m in love with you too.”

Panic seizes you. Your admission is a sacred boundary crossed. A bulwark broken. You have the urge to bolt before all is lost.

But then Gale’s face lifts. It radiates with a smile, and all at once, you are beaming with the knowledge that you are the cause. Fleetingly, you let yourself imagine the miracle of seeing that smile again and again for the rest of your days. It is not a leering grin from which you flee, nor a repulsed grimace from which you hide. Sometimes, in his presence, there is something about solitude that no longer feels like safety, but loss. It bewilders you.

He huffs out a laugh, and you are mesmerised by the curl of his eyelashes, delicate as butterfly wings.

“That’s a relief. It’d be a shame to spend my final hours making an ass of myself.”

There is a flame in his eyes that sets you alight. You cannot look away. You do not want to. Something swollen simmers in the space between you, just as it had that night when the Weave had made you one.

He dips towards you. You are drifting towards him, dizzy from his scent. It is like nothing you have breathed before. There is no trace of sourness, no stale grease. It is sandalwood and leather, scrolls and soap. You are entranced by the plump curve of Gale’s lips, the soft earth of his eyes. In your mind, you see the smooth curve of his shoulders, broad and welcoming. His feather light fingers turning a page, like a sculptor’s touch on setting clay.

The glaring marks on your mother’s neck, withering into wounds. The blood of her scabs, pooling in her navel.

You flinch.

Confusion flits across his features. You shift away.

“I'm sorry,” you manage. “I can't.”

You are winded by his spasm of hurt, a storm of despair, rejection, doubt. Part of you wishes you did not have this gift, this curse of Ilmater - to read others’ pain, to feel others' suffering so deeply it becomes your own. And you know, as you reel from the chains you cannot shed, that you should say no more. But you cannot bear it. You cannot let him suffer from a lie.

“I love you,” you choke. “But I can't.”

His brows steeple. He is silent. The thought that he does not believe you is a torment. You cannot be another loss, another reason for him to believe his life means nothing. To convince himself there is no one who would mourn his death.

The words spill out as though you are clutching, searching.

“I made a vow.”

He sucks in a sharp breath. “A vow.” His gaze darkens. “You're promised to another.”

“No.” You jerk your head, frantic. “No. It’s not that…”

He stiffens, as though he is braced for a blow. That he would expect harm from you is devastating.

“I made a promise to Ilmater,” you confess. “I can't be… intimate with anyone. Not like that.”

His eyes widen. You notice that there are flecks of gold in the brown of his irises, flaring with surprise. You fumble for proof, excuses, anything to skirt around the edge of it. The scar inside you that no one but Brother Rogier has seen. Your burden, your wound. Yours and yours alone.

“It keeps me safe.” You sound frenetic. “So that I can heal. I can't be charmed, or harmed by phantasm. Ilmater protects me from–”

It is ridiculous. You feel it as you speak. To suggest that such feeble protections would keep you from the magnitude of his love, when he is certain he will soon be dust and ash. Insulting. You are ashamed.

Disbelief curdles in the tight line of his lips.

“Please. There’s no need for that.” He looks away. “You have a compassionate heart. That much is clear. But there's no need to go to such lengths to spare what remains of my pride.”

You stare at him, bereft. “Gale–”

“I understand perfectly.” His voice is broken glass. “And I would never force my heart on someone who doesn't reciprocate my affections, no matter how pitiful I may appear.”

He turns his back to you. You can no longer see his face. This is the right thing, you tell yourself. The good thing. He will walk away, and you will remain intact. Safe. You will endure.

But a frenzy has come over you. As you watch the sagging of his shoulders, the clenching of his hands, you realise that you do not want it. You do not want this sacrifice, this secret.

You want him.

You have never wanted anything so much.

You lurch forward. He spins around at the desperate questing of your fingers, lacing into his. You fall to your knees, pressing his hand to your heart. Recognition sparks in his eyes as your tadpole brushes against his.

“Please,” you whisper. “Let me show you.”

****

She used to be beautiful, you thought, kneeling there beside her. You stared at the welts marring her olive skin, her scarlet hair flaking to rust. There was a sore on your mother's thigh, weeping with pus, and you looked away when Brother Rogier pressed on it, ashamed at your squeamishness.

You had seen far worse, waiting in dark alleyways and side streets while she heaved, clamped against the wall by some hooded giant, or kneeling as a grunting shadow loomed over her. You had never felt disgust or shock, only vague impatience, as you watched her finish and rearrange her skirts. Coins jangled in her pockets as she took your hand, bounding towards the promise of candlelight in the distance. Later on those nights, she would hold you close in a warm bed, lulling you to sleep with whispered songs. With a full stomach and a formless hope, you ignored the greasy stench of strangers’ sweat which she could never shed.

It angered you, how nauseous you felt, as you listened to the bubbling crackle of your mother's breathing. You were only ten, but you were no longer a child, and you knew her moments were numbered. To feel disgust as she lay there, leaking into a peeling pallet, a guttering flame - it was the greatest betrayal. A sin you could never forgive. When Brother Rogier covered your mother's modesty with his usual gentleness, you started to cry.

You had been suspicious of him at first, stooped and shrouded in his tattered grey robe. You had never met a priest of Ilmater. All you could see was his bald head, so shiny it looked wet, and the backs of his calloused hands, hairy as a beast’s. When he first took hold of your mother after her collapse, you screamed.

But he did not scold or strike you. He spoke to you softly, as an equal, not a child.

“I want nothing from your mother, or from you,” he said. “I have sworn a vow of chastity.”

He had crouched to look you in the eye. It was a dignity you had never been given before, as the ugly runt of a streetwalker. It made you feel like he truly saw you, in a way that no one but your mother did.

“It means I will never take a woman or a man. She is safe with me. And so are you.”

And you were. With him, you felt safe. He was the only other person who would touch her, when the sickness ravaged her body and her mind. He tended to her in the temple with poultices and prayers, giving you food, water and shelter. She was well beyond thanking him by then, all speech and thought swallowed up in decay. Yet when her fire was snuffed out, he was the one who stood with you, cleaning her for burial. He was the one who anointed her so carefully, so reverently, for a return to Ilmater’s embrace.

“Ilmater sees you,” Brother Rogier had said. “He bears your suffering.”

And as you wept into your mother's cold, hard hands, with Brother Rogier steadfast beside you, you thought of every stranger who sucked and thrust your mother's beauty out of her. You thought of their relentless claws in the darkness, and Brother Rogier’s tender fingers in the light. You thought of your life, broken and empty, but for Ilmater's unexpected kindness.

And you made a promise. You promised you would never give your body as your mother had. All that you were, all that you had, you vowed to give to the Crying, Broken God, the one who stood with you and endured.

****

There is a tiny scar near his temple, framed by a dew drop of a mole. You had never noticed them before. As you lie facing him, cocooned in the illusion of the lush grass beneath and the boundless night above, you drink in every pore of his bronze-kissed face, every shadow that lifts as his gaze roams over you. You feel it like a caress, drifting over the patches and blemishes marring your skin, and for the first time in your life, you do not feel the need to hide them.

“Tav.” His voice is so low, you strain to hear it. “I’m so sorry.”

He draws closer. He has seen the gaping hole inside you, and he remains. You can feel his longing to comfort, his desire to heal. It is a familiar urge, your second nature. It would be a gift, if you could accept his reassurance. If you could rest in his embrace. If only.

He senses your hesitation. Abruptly, he pauses, his fingers hovering above yours.

“Is this… alright?” Worry twists his features. “Are you comfortable with–”

“It’s alright.”

He gestures between you. “Because if it makes you feel uncomfortable, I can–”

“It doesn’t.”

He frowns, questioning, fretting.

“I'm sorry.” You look down. “I'm sorry I can't…”

He jolts. Your breath hitches as his fingers find the point of your chin, tilting your face up to meet his.

“I love you.” His brow quivers. “There are countless ways to declare love. Infinite ways to express it. The joining of bodies, the pleasures of the flesh…they're but one stitch in a vast tapestry. My love for you goes far deeper, burns far brighter.”

You gaze at him, motionless. When you speak again, your voice is torn.

“I want to. With you. One day, when I’m not...”

You grimace as the images flash through your mind. The weeping scratches on your mother’s breast. The oily sheen on her calloused skin. You try to blink them away.

“When I can, I want to.”

He nods slowly, firmly. He shines, as though there are no more shadows between you. That there never could be.

“It’s different with you.” You try to explain. “When I’m with you, I don’t have to hide. When I’m close to you, I feel…safe.”

You know it is not enough, but it is all you have. You can only give him the truth, no more, no less.

“You’re not like the others,” you say finally. “I… want to be with you. To…touch you.”

You clasp his hand. There is the faintest glow of lavender that trails down the muscles of his neck, a glinting sliver of his chest through the opening of his robe. You look at him with concern. He grimaces slightly. You think you see a trace of embarrassment, but you are not sure.

“I - ah –”

His mouth opens, closes. He struggles for words.

“Is it hurting?” You wince. “We can try that poultice again, I have some in my–”

“I’m alright,” he huffs. “I’m quite alright, Tav.”

“Are you in pain?”

“Not…quite.” He shakes his head. “Not now. It’s–”

He bites his lip. There is a strange silence, as though you have reached a frontier you cannot pass. And yet, the intensity of his gaze draws you, like a thread tethering your soul to his. Your fingers follow its path, hovering over the dark ring at his centre. He tilts his head, and almost imperceptibly, he nods.

His eyelids flutter at your touch. The lines of the orb feel like a scar, a stitch sinking into his skin. There is a coldness to the purple pulse under your fingers. You notice that Gale has stopped breathing. You draw back.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No,” he answers immediately. His lips are parted. You catch the wet glimmer of his tongue. “Not at all.”

He clears his throat. You swallow. For a moment, you cannot look at each other. He runs his hand through his hair, while you fuss at your tunic. A hushed heat falls over you, and as if on cue, you both roll onto your backs, fixing your gazes on the celestial canvas.

It is quiet for a long time. And then your hand returns to his, as if it belongs there. You trace the grooves on his palm, as he caresses the callouses of your knuckles.

“I would wait an eternity for you.” His voice is rough, fractured. “If only I could…but the orb, the fate Mystra demands of me–”

“You don’t deserve this,” you choke.

He scoffs, a burst of anger and disgust. “I was foolish. Selfish. It was unconscionable. I endangered everyone around me–”

You spin back to him. “You don’t deserve this, Gale. Not this. Not her abandonment and punishment. Not any of it.”

He stares at you. There is both a hardening and a softening in him as he wrestles with your words. You understand. You know how it feels to grapple with a burden, haunted by whether you can ever lay it down. Plagued by whether you should.

A tangle of hair falls into your eyes. Slowly, tentatively, he reaches up to tuck it behind your ear. Your skin tingles from the ghost of his touch.

“I could never tire of looking at your face,” he breathes. “Hearing your voice, seeing you smile. Watching you laugh. Being with you, basking in the miracle of your presence.” He closes his eyes, as if committing you to memory. “When the time comes, this is what I’ll picture. Only you.”

The sorrow of his smile floods you. The resolution, the resignation in it. All at once, you are drowning. He gasps, flinching forwards.

“Please.” His thumb draws gentle circles on your cheek, brushing away your falling tears. “My love, please don't cry.”

He speaks with a tortured awe, as though no one has ever wept from his pain.

“I would never want to bring you grief. Only joy. Beauty. Happiness and wonder.”

“Then don't do it.” You try to stifle your sobs. “We can work this out together. You don’t have to die.”

You cup his flickering hand against your skin.

“Any goddess who would ask you to do this isn’t worthy of your love. You're worth more than any mistakes you’ve made. So much more than this cruel forgiveness. You’re… everything.”

Ilmater would never ask this. He would see Gale, his regrets, his triumphs, his goodness and kindness. His love. Ilmater would bear his suffering as his own. He would walk with Gale through the roses and the thorns. You wish you could make him see.

But he does not see it. “Please don't cry,” is all he says, as he wipes away your tears.

***

“What's your happiest memory?”

It feels like a deflection at first. A misguided focus on your sorrow instead of his own. You do not want to back down. You want to convince him that Mystra is wrong, that he deserves to live, that he should endure. But there is a plea in his question, a ragged insistence, and you cannot refuse him.

You close your eyes as you consider.

“My mother loved to sing,” you start. “When she sang, it was like time stood still. Her voice was so beautiful… I can’t describe it, but I remember it. Everything about her was beautiful… until she got sick.”

You feel your mother’s crimson waves, wrapped like a veil around you. The cradle of her arms, so thin and willowy, yet strong as spider silk.

“Just before she got sick, my mother took me to a tavern to see Red Millie. A singer - you won’t have heard of her, but she was a celebrity around our parts. The barkeep took one look at us and tried to throw us out, but we managed to hide away at the back.”

You remember your glee, sneaking with your mother through the gaps in the crowd, shrouded in shadows. There was a whimsy, a spirit within your mother that no amount of degradation and destitution could ever kill. Not until the very end.

Gale’s jaw clenches. “Blind prejudice. Needless cruelty, to deny such simple pleasures to a woman and her child. What I wouldn’t do to give that fool a piece of my mind.”

A tide of tenderness washes over you. You squeeze his hand.

“It wouldn’t have changed anything. But thank you.”

Reluctantly, he eases. His anger moves you in a way you cannot describe. You are reminded of how Brother Rogier chased off the boys that spat and threw stones at you, as though there was nothing that mattered more than your dignity.

“It was incredible, anyway,” you go on. “My first time at a real show. It was the only time I saw my mother’s face light up like that. Red Millie had red hair just like hers, and a voice that could bring warriors to their knees. And that night, she sang this song, a song I’ll never forget.”

It takes you unawares, how clearly you can still hear it. How it echoes inside you like a temple bell.

“Afterwards, my mother looked at me like she’d never done before. She was smiling, and there were tears in her eyes, and she held me so tightly I thought she would never let me go.”

Your chest heaves. She is a bottomless ache. You struggle to find your breath.

“What was the song?” Gale asks softly.

The grasp of his hand stills you. No one but Brother Rogier has ever heard you sing. You have always thought your song fragile, brittle, like thawing ice. It has always been a secret part of yourself, set aside for your mother and Ilmater alone. But when Gale asks, it is a foregone conclusion. Something you give him freely and without reservation.

And so, with your tears mirrored in his eyes, you sing him your mother’s song.

“Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place

Suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace

Suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste

It all revolves around you

And there's no mountain too high

No river too wide

Sing out this song and I'll be there by your side

Storm clouds may gather

And stars may collide

But I love you

Until the end of time

Come what may

I will love you

Until my dying day”

****

“Come.” He stands suddenly, lithe with determination. “I want to show you something.”

He reaches down to you, and when you take his hand, the world around you dissolves into a whirl of blinding light. You stumble, but with his fingers intertwined in yours, there is no space inside you for trepidation. There is only wonder.

He strides forward. You gasp as a vista of oak, marble, and vellum streams from his free hand. Not for the first time, you are enthralled by Gale in his element, working miracles from the Weave. You marvel at the sculptures and paintings that appear around you, the plush seats and ornate walls enlivened by the spines of a thousand books. Within this sanctuary of deep reds and gilded greens, open tomes and scribbled notes gleam in the glow of the fireplace. All you see and feel and smell is Gale.

“This is my home in Waterdeep. The centre of my universe.”

You stand speechless, taking it all in - the gift of Gale’s trust, the purity of his love as he bears his soul to you. With a flourish, Gale leads you towards an intricately carved piano that waits in the corner of the room.

“This is beautiful, Gale.”

You are referring to all of it - Gale's art, his home and haven, Gale himself. But Gale beams down at the piano with a special focus.

“It was my mother's.”

His thumb grazes its elaborate markings. There is such a delicacy in the gesture. An act of worship.

“She gave it to me, when I finally got my act together and moved into my own place. What a day of joy and mourning that was.”

He chuckles, brimming with memories. You wish you could see them all.

“She was a marvellous pianist, back in the day, when her fingers were nimbler. Truly exceptional. She was no wizard, but to hear her play–”

His hands dance, fervent with admiration.

“She played with such passion, such unparalleled mastery, that her music had a magic of its own.”

He gestures to the bench in front of the piano. As you sit, your thigh brushes against his. His fingers trail idly over the keys.

“It was always a treat as a child, to perch here beside her and watch her play. No matter how much of a menace I'd been, how exhausted she was from the endless havoc I wreaked and all the questions about the universe I demanded she answer. No matter how incandescent she was with me for burning this or summoning that…”

He gives a huff of affection.

“She would still invite me to sit beside her and listen. Every time.”

Gale's smile illuminates every part of him. It is a smile like no other, a fixed star in an endless night.

“She sounds like a wonderful woman.”

He bobs his head. “Indeed. Formidable, and fearsome, and wonderful. You would like her. And she would adore you.”

There is an instant before he holds your gaze - a flurry of his fingers, a low murmur. And then, the piano bursts into life with a familiar song that shatters your heart into a thousand pieces before restoring them one by one, sealed in gold.

You are shaking. “Gale,” you whisper through tears. “The song–”

He takes your hand and presses it against his cheek. You feel it all - the roughness, the smoothness, the swelling storm, the steady sea. There is so much more you want to tell each other, things that spill over the seams of speech, lapping at the edges of all your empty spaces. In this moment, you do not need it. You simply listen.

****

You are sitting on the balcony. Framed by golden shafts of sunlight, he looks like a vision from your dreams, real and unreal at the same time. You know everything around you is an illusion, a haze of yearning and remembrance. Yet it is truer than anything you have ever seen or felt, greater than all your nightmares, the spectres of the past. It is his world, melting into yours, making you one.

“My favourite spot.”

He pats the velvet seat beneath you. Dust motes shimmer in the rising air.

“Many times, evening turned to night and back to daybreak once more while I sat here, lost in words.”

He looks out into the horizon, the shifting waves and seagulls soaring overhead. You are reminded that he has created all of this from memory. The undulations of the arches before you, the chiselled grooves of the stone floor beneath you. The bustling docks and well worn buildings of Waterdeep in the distance. The empty wine glasses on the table, reflecting the setting sun. You feel the love and longing in his creation. You see the mourning in his frown, the dark determination in the twisting of his mouth. A farewell.

“You'll come back here,” you tell him. “When this is all over. You'll be back.”

He turns back to you. There is a faltering, a crack in his conviction. You hope, with every ardent prayer within you, that it is enough.

Your hand seeks his. “What's your happiest memory?”

A fleeting surprise passes over his features, but there is no hesitation.

“This,” he says. “Now. Being here with you.”

You are taken aback by the force of his sincerity, the gratitude that glistens in his gaze. Of all his accolades, all his many accomplishments and adventures, of all the people he has loved and lain with, this is what he cherishes most. You, bruised and battered as you are. Only you.

“And for you, I’ll wait.” He clasps both of your hands in his. “I'll wait for as long as it takes. A thousand years could pass, and I'd still be here, waiting.” His lips curl. “If you'll still have me, that is.”

You cannot help but laugh at his unexpected pun, and the hint of pride in it. Your cheeks flush with the implication of his smirk. It takes you a beat to register what he has said. When you do, you halt.

“Is that a promise?”

He freezes. Desperately, you search his face.

“It's a promise.” You surge forward. “You're going to wait till the day I can give myself to you completely, mind, body and soul. You're going to live.”

He looks down at his hands, wrapped up in yours. You can feel the roiling inside him, the relentless battle between hope and sacrifice. And when his eyes meet yours again, you are overcome by a love that blazes through everything hidden and broken within you.

There is the ghost of a nod, and his hair skims your neck as you reach for him. When your lips find his, he trembles, his hands questing, coming to rest at the small of your back. You cup his cheeks, and the caress of his tongue against yours is a prayer answered. A vow.

In the warmth of his embrace, you watch the weary sun take its dive into the sea. He holds you close, and as the piano whispers your mother’s song, you let the gentle rhythm of his breaths lull you into sleep.

******************************

Liked this fic? Check out my other work.

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #gale fic #bg3 gale fic #gale fanfiction #gale romance #bg3 gale fanfiction #gale x tav #gale x oc #baldurs gate 3 fic #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 gale romance

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months

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Drabble Roulette: Helmut Zemo + Mob AU

Hey hey! This weekend (July 6 -7) I’m going to be playing drabble roulette! I’ve curated a list of characters, tropes, AUs, and kinks and I’m spinning the wheel! Hopefully I can do this once a month as a little writing exercise.

Character: Helmut Zemo

Warnings: this drabble includes illegal activity and drunkeness. Please mind these warnings and take care.

Explicit, 18+. Please reblog and leave some feedback.

A giggle bubbles up from your throat. You don’t know why it’s so funny. Maybe it’s the absurdity. Maybe you’re just tired of being the other one. Or you’re drunk. Very drunk.

You glance over at Shantal. She’s making eyes at the guy who brought her a lime twist cocktail. He’s into her too. And Traci grinds on the dance floor with a buff guy you know spends more time in the gym than doing actual work. And you, well, you get the cream of the crop, don’t you?

As the man approaches, you try to ignore him. Try not to see him. Maybe he’ll get the hint. You’re really not interested.

He doesn’t. He sits beside you on the long bench behind the table and sets the second martini in front of you. You repress a cringe. You hate to be rude but you can’t help another giggle.

He looks older up close. You could tell before he’s beyond your age range. Do you have one of those? Not like you have a vast field for selection. Next to the young studs your friends have reeled in, his seniority is even more stark.

“You look lonely,” he slithers.

You put on your best smile. It’s hard. You’re mortified.

“Um, thanks, that’s nice but...” you look away and wet your lips, laughing again. “I’m sorry I’m not looking--”

“Mm, you could’ve fooled me the way you keep peeking over at your friend. You are rather green.”

You wince at the insult. You’re not jealous but you do wish you could find them as east as Shantal. You shrug.

“I appreciate the gesture but I think I might be a bit... young for you,” you suggest.

It’s his turn to laugh and he does. Heartily. He stirs the cocktail with the toothpick, three olives skewered upon it. He raises his chin and inhales through his nose, looking around the flashing club. Why is he even there? It can’t be much fun hanging out with coeds at that age.

He looks at you smugly, “do you have any idea who you’re laughing at?”

His expression turns dire and your stomach drops. Something in his dark eyes strangles you. You shake your head and look at the stemmed glass.

“Sorry, I don’t think we’ve met,” you utter.

“We’re meeting. Now.”

“Right,” you hesitate. This is awkward. You don’t know what he wants you to say. “I am the designated driver so--”

“Don’t lie to me,” he sneers. “I’ve watched you keep pace with these sluts you call friends. You’re slurring right now and I can smell the vodka on your breath,” he leans in, “I’d rather taste it.”

“Excuse me?” You sputter.

“You’ve got a pretty mouth,” his eyes flick down to your lips, “go on, have a sip.”

“You’re gross.”

“I bought you a drink so don’t be so impolite,” he retorts. “I’m sorry, did you have a line up?”

He peers around again, even more smug than before. That hurts.

“You know, you catch more bees with honey--”

“I already own you,” he insists, “you’re in my club, you have my liquor in your stomach, and you are sat at my table. So, show some manners and drink what I give you.”

You shake your head. This man is confounding. Is he flirting or demeaning you?

“I recommend you weigh this very carefully. I don’t just own this snake’s pit. The landlord you pay for their basement, I know him. He pays me his dues. And the college campus, yes, well, several professors have a taste for gambling, and I suppose you would need to deal with the banks...”

“You’re lying--”

“Perhaps, would you like to find out the hard way or the easy way,” he reaches over and taps the glass before you, “I do find gin does go down rather smoothly.”

#helmut zemo #dark zemo #dark!zemo #zemo x reader #drabble #drabble roulette #mcu #marvel #falcon and the winter soldier #captain america

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gilbirda · 3 months

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Personal coach Red Hood

Another quick one before sleep. This is honestly becoming a fun wind down exercise to relax before bed! I highly recommend just letting the words come as they come and disconnect for a moment.

Shout out to @impyssadobsessions and @emeraldsandamethyst for hyping me up as I write this fic! Thank you for the support!

Part 1 || Part 3 - Part 5

----

Jazz flexed her right hand and picked up the wooden spoon again. Her knuckles were definitely bruised and it was going to be annoying for a day or two.

She sighed.

Not even making her favorite soup was proving capable of cheering her up anymore. She kept going back to Hood screaming at her after the bank robbery earlier that afternoon, how he grabbed her and pushed her away.

His constant rejection stung, and she wasn’t stupid — smiling and having a positive attitude wasn’t going to magically change his mind. She tried to prove she was smart, resourceful and strong enough; and if it wasn’t enough for him then there was nothing she could do.

She could try her luck with the other bats, but she didn’t know if he had already warned them about her or something.

Jazz tried the soup and winced. It was… not fine. Tasted slightly burnt and needed more salt. She shouldn’t be cooking while in a bad mood since she was messing even the soup she could do with her eyes closed.

A soft tap on her balcony window made her jump and then chide herself for being so easily startled.

She turned, finding the same vigilante she had been thinking about. What did he want?

He said something, but his voice was muffled through the glass, and with the helmet’s voice modulation she couldn’t make the words. Jazz pointed at her ears and shook her head. The man sighed, given how his shoulders slumped, and took off his helmet.

Jazz’s eyes were glued to the white locks of hair he had at the front.

“I want to talk.” He said.

She considered him — the disarmed body language, the tense lips that weren’t a smile, his fingers tapping the helmet. She was sad and a little bit mad about the incident that day but…

She checked the soup one more time and sighed, turning off the stove and putting the pot away.

“What do you want?” Maybe she could have said that less like she wanted to bite his head off, but she was tired and mad and hungry. And he had been an asshole to her for the better part of a month.

Hood just stood there, quiet. She raised an eyebrow.

“Your food sucks.”

Jazz took in a deep breath and moved to close her balcony glass door, considering the conversation over.

“Wait,” he stopped her from totally closing the door, “I didn’t mean that.”

She glared at the whiteouts of his domino mask. “You don’t have to lie, I know I’m not a good cook.”

“Okay, then your food has… room to improve?”

This made her chuckle, but it was more because of the face he made. He looked completely out of place, trying to play nice like this.

“What do you want?” She asked again, reopening the glass door. This time, she also made a gesture to let him inside if he wanted. Surprisingly enough, he followed, his helmet under one arm. “Want something to drink? I may have some apple juice, but I’m not sure.”

“Beer?”

“Are you drinking on the job, Mr. Hood?” She smirked, enjoying the way he huffed at her words.

“Call me just Hood.” He shook his head. “And I’m fine just like this. I’m not staying long anyway.”

She shrugged. “What do you want?” She asked for the third time.

Jazz watched him shuffle his feet and run a gloved hand through his hair. He was nervous, avoiding her eyes. He reminded her so much of Danny, and how hard it was for him to open difficult conversations.

“After— After you left, I saw the snipers. Thank you.” He added with a small voice. It was genuine. “They could have really turned the situation to something worse, and… and I couldn’t… I didn’t…”

“It’s fine. You were busy.”

He was talking about the guys on the rooftops that she took care of, and the reason why she couldn’t follow him into the bank on time before the lockdown. She tried to explain, but he cut her off so rudely so he might have found them tied up and knocked out where she left them.

He shook his head again. “I didn’t let you explain.”

“No, you didn’t.” What was the point in sugar coating? “You were, and excuse my wording, a grade A asshole.”

He chuckled. “Yeah.” He sighed. “That I am.” He cleared his throat but didn’t speak for a few moments. Jazz waited patiently as he gathered his words. “I’m not a good mentor. I don’t even know what I could offer you. And I’m a ‘grade A asshole’, but… You are one tough motherfucker to keep coming back again and again... And you did me a solid today… I guess what I’m trying to say is—”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yes, I will be your student.” She smiled and extended her hand. “When do we start, teacher?”

----

Back to Main Archive

Back to Danny Phantom Archive

Do you like my stuff? You can support me here!

#dpxdc #jazz/jason #jazz x jason #anger management ship #hardcover ship #dp x dc #personal coach au

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beautifulmindset111 · 4 months

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MY JOURNEY/ PROGRESS WITH THE VOID STATE

If you checked my post below this one at the bottom of the post I was saying i was trying to enter void state using yoga nidra (Jason Stephen yoga nidra his worked the best for me) I didn’t enter last night bcuz my muscle was jerking so I thought it would mess up my progress buttt it was just falling asleep quickly so if I js ignore it and didn’t pay so much attention I would’ve entered the void state and that’s what it’s going to happen tonight im deciding and allowing myself to go in the void state finally after so long (since 2021) im gonna stop yapping and update yall later but yesterday was night 1 so the first update will be from yesterday night

5/16/24 - did the guided meditation (Jason Stephen’s) at 2:00 am 2x and affirmed and didn’t enter bcuz of the muscle jerks I was having .

same day - At 5:00 am rn i did the meditation and affirmed but i was not in right state it helped feel relaxed kinda but i was not focused on the meditation. so it didn’t get me into that state of deep consciousness that i tapped into 2 days i wasn’t focused on what he was saying and was kinda late to his commands some i didn’t even know what to focus on buttt i sooo recommend his yoga nidra and I spelled his name wrong it’s Jason Stephenson yall 😭but like i was saying i recommend his vid sm 2 days ago when I was focused on it I felt idk how to explain it but like a good light headedness when I was done . So I js wasn’t focused enough tho. I needed to ground myself kinda but yh guys happy manifesting and shiftingggg🫶🏾✌🏾

5/17/24- didn’t do it 😁

5/18/24- i just tried a 2hr yoga nidra guided meditation by ally boothroyth and I didn’t even do deep breaths I js laid there focusing on my breath listening to her talking. I didn’t do any deep breathing exercises bc I’m not really good at them and I’m lazy 😭 i wanted to do a longer version bcuz I js thought it was better bc it’s 2hrs and Ik I’m gonna probably enter/wake up in the void by then and I’m not a fan of silence it makes me bored and fall asleep i started seeing a light white flashes it wasn’t literally flashing at me but like yk when ur under water and u see the waves type shii thats how it was and then my left hand started feeling floaty and then I started feeling like I was spinning like I was a roasted pig on a bonfire and yea then I opened my eyes! im definitely going to try this tn !!! I’ll update u guys tmrw!!!!!!

5/19/24- I tried it this morning and my hand felt floaty that’s it my end time was 23:22.

5/25/24- hey guys ik I’ve been distant and im ngl i haven’t rlly been doing anything these past few days i going to stay off of tumblr for a while and stay consistent with my void journey but off social media i love u guys sm and im thankful for u guys sticking by me and watching my progress. once I get into the void I’ll come back and tell u guys my experience and what I manifested im going to stay on tumblr and give u guys advice !! So farewell for now my bunnis until I come back 🩷 - ariisrealities

#yoganidra #void state #manifesation #manifesting #pink #law of assumption #easy

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laxmiree · 1 month

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[CN] MLQC Lucien’s The Sea No Longer Distant MQ translation (Part 3/3)

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

This post contains a detailed spoiler for an MQ that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~

[Warning]: The content of this MQ is pretty explicit and may not be suitable for individuals under the age of 18 (CN server). It is recommended that those who do not meet this age requirement refrain from proceeding beyond this point.

Translation under the cut!

Previous Part=> [Click Here]

—[Part 5]—

I don't understand Lucien’s words.

The problem that has been troubling us does not have a final solution.

Perhaps neither his stubbornness nor mine is wrong. Maybe all we need is a few days of rest, or to reap some successful rewards, and then we can move forward.

It's just... I feel like there are some very important answers that I've overlooked.

??: MC, since you're free, wanna come play beach volleyball?

Producer Xiao Cui excitedly runs over from afar, grinning at me.

Xiao Cui: We're just two players short!

MC: [unamused] "Two players short"? You haven't even found anyone to play against!

MC: [worriedly] Besides, I'm not that great at volleyball.

Xiao Cui: Hahaha, it’s fine as long as you can hit the ball over the net~ Besides, we have Professor Lucien!

Lucien hears this and just smiles, turning to look at me.

Lucien: Do you want to play?

MC: If... you're not afraid of losing badly with me on your team, I guess getting some exercise wouldn't be too bad~

Before sparring with Xiao Cui, Lucien earnestly guides me through some simple warm-up exercises.

Then, he skillfully volleys the volleyball. Despite the sea breeze, I catch it steadily.

The azure sky seems clearer and brighter than usual. The breeze sways the palm leaves and also lifts up his hair.

I don't know if it's because of the exercise or him in front of me, but my heartbeat feels faster than usual.

MC: Lucien, have you played volleyball before?

He seems to think about it seriously, then nods slightly.

At his cue, I pass the ball to him again.

Lucien: [in an unsure tone] Oh, it seems I did play a bit when I was in the States*.

He quickly glances at the ball and the court, appearing to have already calculated where the next ball will land.

Perhaps even Lucien himself doesn't realize it, but right now his lips are slightly lifted, and his eyes sparkle with pure joy and relaxation.

MC: ...You would forget something like that?

Lucien: Maybe I subconsciously felt it wasn't a memory worth keeping.

Lucien: After all, when those people hit a bottleneck, they'll want to waste time playing around with anything, no matter how irrelevant.

Lucien: They called it ‘changing their way of thinking’?

Lucien: [chuckles] Sometimes, if I was unlucky, they'd drag me along for a friendly match.

MC: [laughs] How is that unlucky?!

I laugh and accidentally miss the ball, sending it flying far away.

Lucien: They called it a friendly match, but they'd make me direct the offense, and if we lost, we'd have to review it…

Lucien: [despite his words, there's a subconscious fondness in his tone:"] It was a waste of time and very troublesome.

Lucien's voice drifts over with the sea breeze, and before I can react, Xiao Cui is already positioned across from me, eagerly raring to go.

Although it's just a casual game, everyone is playing with a competitive spirit.

As the volleyball flies over the net at high speed, he quickly shuffles into position and bends his knees slightly, mirroring the ball's trajectory.

His forearm muscles tense, sending the ball soaring perfectly towards me.

With barely a step, I leap and spike it over the net.

MC: Woah!

Even with my limited volleyball experience, I can instantly feel the precision and power of Lucien's pass.

But as the ball is hit back and forth, especially with the sand and sea breeze, he still seems to be struggling to hold on by himself.

I really want to try hard to catch the ball, but the increasingly heavy breathing and hot air make my steps feel heavier, and my arms and wrists are starting to ache.

At the same time, as we get into the rhythm, the ball's speed keeps increasing.

We seem to have entered a state of urgency, tension, and desperation, yet neither of us is willing to give up.

Even though I'm exhausted, I start running again.

A ball is spiked straight into the open front court. I almost instinctively run forward and scoop it up…

…Bumping it high into the air.

The sky is clear and vast, and everything seems to slow down. I subconsciously hold my breath and look up.

The ball continues to fly, passing through wispy clouds and seabirds, falling towards the edge of the court.

A small splash of water enters my vision, and the vast ocean shimmers with light as Lucien already stands beneath the falling ball.

He also maintains his gaze upwards, and then finally slowly turns his eyes towards me.

Lucien: ...So that's how it is.

His expression looks so gentle as he lifts the ball to a higher place as soon as it touches his fingertips.

The blinding sunlight blurs my vision, and in this moment, I finally understand.

What is your own mood, and what is that very important answer?

The ball soars high with the wind, giving me plenty of time to slowly adjust my pace and posture. I let out a breath and—

It lands steadily in my hands, as if those words that have never been spoken reach me in the silence.

Xiao Cui: ...Boss, why don't you hit it back over the net!

Panting, I watch as Lucien walks toward me.

Lucien: Let's... take a break.

✂— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Lucien and I stroll along the beach in the sunset, shoes in hand. The gentle tide washes over our ankles, and for a moment, neither of us says anything.

After an unknown amount of time, Lucien stops.

I turn my head and see him standing a few steps away from me.

The dense evening mist falls upon the distant shore, and darkness creeps in from the edges of the horizon.

Warmth and coldness seemed to pour onto him at the same time, making Lucien look so enigmatic at this moment.

MC: [smiles softly] Lucien, I just suddenly realized something that I have always overlooked and taken for granted.

Gazing into those dark eyes, I smile at him.

MC: In my heart, Lucien is also ‘the best’.

MC: Before, I would only think that you were physically tired, but neither your mind nor your heart would ever stop.

MC: Even though that seems to be true, I seem to have forgotten to ask you…

I put away my smile and look at him with utmost seriousness.

MC: Are you... also afraid of stopping?

The surging tide echoes ceaselessly, just like a restless heart.

Most of Lucien's face is hidden in shadow, making his expression a little difficult to perceive clearly.

In that dark sea, does that ever-forward gaze hold too many struggles that I cannot fathom?

Lucien: Perhaps, in the time when I couldn't yet define it…

Lucien: I have felt fear too.

His voice is light as if it had finally descended after thousands of days and nights of contemplation.

MC: ...What are you afraid of?

Lucien: Afraid of death.

At that moment, Lucien appears a bit cold.

Lucien: Perhaps, I often feel that "stopping" is equivalent to death.

In the entirety of those urgent years, his hasty footsteps never looked back.

Truth and death are always accompanying each other, both has been beautiful and captivating enough for long time, making every moment spent in vain seem particularly wasteful.

Lucien: But... you appeared, and I hope you can slow down your growth at your own pace.

MC: I know.

Lucien: But maybe that's not the case.

A blank confusion seems to appear in his eyes, making him seem so real.

Lucien: Long before I realized it... I already needed you by my side more than I had imagined.

Lucien: I didn't have such high expectations before, because I thought you were already good enough as you were, but you always... always walked by my side.

His hoarse voice drifts through the last rays of fading light, igniting a warmth that envelops my entire body.

Lucien: You once told me that you would definitely catch up with me.**

Lucien: And I don't know when it started, but I've gotten used to it, and I took it for granted that you would definitely be here.

MC: And I will always be here.

Lucien: Yeah, so I forget.

He squeezes out an incredibly tender and loving smile, tinged with a hint of heartache, and slowly walks towards me.

Lucien: I forgot that you actually worked very, very hard... to keep yourself walking behind me.

Lucien: I thought achievement was only natural because I was arrogant and selfish, and I thought everyone should follow my steps.

Lucien: I took your presence by my side for granted, enjoyed your company, and the feeling of you dreaming with me.

Lucien: But I forgot…

Lucien: That you will get tired.

His voice is so soft, it's as if something breaks the dam with it, blending him with the dusk and merging into another sea.

Lucien: I'm a fool, aren't I?

Tiny kisses fall on my face, making the person in front of me both blurry and clear.

MC: I don't want to let down your expectations or make you wait for me, but I really want to dream with you.

Lucien: [very, very softly] I know.

MC: But I'm really tired, Lucien.

I feel Lucien's arms wrap around me in a hug, and hear his voice against my ear.

Lucien: Mm, it’s very tiring…

Lucien: And I am tired too.

It’s not only when you’re lost that you’re allowed to stop; when you’re tired, it’s okay to stop as well.

It's not about stopping for others, but also about giving others the signal that it's ‘okay to stop’.

It seems so simple, but for him, it's so difficult and unfamiliar.

No one had ever told him this, or perhaps someone had hinted at it, but he was always in too much of a hurry to ever seriously examine it.

Until there is someone in his life that he can't let go of, making him uncomfortable yet also helpless.

She had given him this feeling many years ago, and now, as the branches and leaves grow deeper into his marrow, he knows he can no longer escape.

He finally sees the lightless sea clearly, realizing that the starting point that had long disappeared is now far, far behind him, and he no longer needs to fear stagnation.

Behind him, there seem to be many ships, large and small, with unfamiliar and familiar faces, and in the instant of turning sideways, he sees her.

Lucien: My dreams already have you in them.

Tears and kisses blend together as Lucien gently lifts me as if he is holding up my entire world.

Lucien: [whispers softly] I think... you can't leave anymore.

MC: I've never considered that option.

I lower my eyes to meet his gaze, lost in that depths of the ocean tide, and devoutly kiss him.

With a contented sigh, our lips and tongues lovingly entwine, and we ardently seek to leave a mark on each other that melds into our very flesh and blood.

Our body heat and scents mingle, colors both similar and different blend beyond distinction, like water dissolving into the sea, leaving no trace of their differences.

It's just that we are both intentional, deliberately wanting to linger a little longer and stain the other person's whole body in our own colors.

The tide rises and falls as he and I entangle in a dance. But just as he wants all of me, I want all of him.

I want all his fears and brokenness, all his longing and love, until his soul is bare.

Even I am startled by this greed of mine and can't help but laugh.***

Lucien laughs as well. I don’t know why, but I always feel like he knows.

MC: Love is truly troublesome, isn't it?

Lucien: [whispers hoarsely] But it also makes me incredibly satisfied.

His hoarse voice falls to my lips, and I feel him filling my entire world, leaving no room for retreat.

Lucien: So... I'll gladly bear it all.****

— — — —FIN (but there's one bonus story + short reflection under this T/N) — — — —

[T/N:

It turns out that what she overlooked was her own expectation of him—that he could keep going as long as he didn’t feel physically tired. They see each other as the "best" and, even if they don’t mean to, they unconsciously place the ‘expectation’ on each other to always move forward and reach ever-greater heights… This date provides them the opportunity to grow through reflection:”

*: Him mentioning his time in USA! You can read more about his friends in Monochrome Scenery.

**: It's from what MC said in Fantasy Book Date! Just as this date mentions again and again, the path he walked on is a lonely one. It’s because MC has been working hard to accompany him so he doesn’t feel as lonely; and on this date, Lucien realizes that he’s been taking this for granted.

And, while before I highlighted them mirroring each other imperfection, now I want to highlight how they mirror each other desires~

***: MC’s ‘I want all his fears and brokenness, all his longing and love, until his soul is bare. Even I am startled by this greed of mine and can't help but laugh.’ this is a mirror to Lucien’s most classic line; “I am insatiable and I want your everything.” . Just as Lucien longs to ‘have’ all of her, she also longs to greedily ‘have’ all of him, whether it’s the good or the bad.

****: Lucien’s last line is a direct reference of MC’s line from Aquarium Date. This might get missed because Elex translated it differently ahah. The Chinese idiom 甘之如饴 (gān zhī rú yí) literally translates to “as sweet as syrup.” It is used to describe someone who willingly endures hardship or difficulty, often with a sense of satisfaction or joy. So, even though love is ‘troublesome’ and can cause suffering, just like her, he’s willing to endure it as if it’s a sweet thing.

✂— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

—[Memory Silhouette - Like-minded people]—

Seagulls fly low, stirring up dense foam of waves.

My colleagues and I are sitting around the beach chatting when one of the editors suddenly seems to remember something and shows us their phone calendar.

Editor: Comrades, let me tell you a horror story.

Editor: In three days, we'll be back at work. Why does vacation time always fly by so fast?!

Assistant Director: Shh, don't ruin the fun at the happiest time!

Screenwriter: ...Hey hey, the boss is right there. Is it really okay to be so openly "sick of work"?

With that comment, they all turn their gaze towards me, the "boss." I shrug helplessly in response.

MC: If I could, I wouldn't want to work either.

Editor: No way, the boss has to work. If the boss doesn't work, who's going to pay us~

Everyone bursts into laughter.

At that moment, I spot a familiar figure through the crowd and quickly raise my arm, waving enthusiastically.

MC: Lucien, over here~

Director: The boss's boyfriend is here, make room, make room.

With a whoosh, the colleagues beside me immediately scoot aside, kicking up a puff of sand in their haste.

Under everyone's gaze, Lucien smiles and sits beside me, his fingers discreetly intertwining with my pinky behind our backs.

Lucien: Hello everyone, I hope I'm not interrupting anything.

Editor: Of course not. We were just talking about how our vacation is almost over, and we're very, very reluctant to go back.

Lucien: If you're really that reluctant, the boss is right here. Why not take a few more days off while you have the chance?

MC: That’s right. As long as you have leave left in your attendance record, I’ll definitely approve it.

Editor: Seriously? I have half a year of compensatory leave! I want to take half a year off!!!

Assistant Director: **** you, just quit already!

Editor: Boss! Approve it!

MC: In your dreams!

A group of people laugh and joke heartily, but only Lucien ponders silently as if he is quietly observing something.

Lucien: As far as I know, editing is one of the more demanding jobs in the film and television industry, with working through the night being quite common.

Editor: Alas, there’s nothing I can do about it.

Editor: Sorting and organizing dozens of terabytes of footage, and syncing audio tracks—it's all very tedious work.

Editor: And if you do it long enough, lower back pain, varicose veins, and tendinitis will all come knocking. The "side effects" are pretty severe!

Lucien: Since that's the case, do you continue doing it because you really like the job?

Lucien's question makes the editor pause, then quickly straightens up and declares their loyalty to me.

Editor: Of course, boss, I still really like this job.

Editor: Editing is the soul of a film. Without an editor, even the best shots and stories can't be properly expressed.

Screenwriter: Hey hey, the screenwriter is the soul of the film.

Director: I have to disagree. The director is the core of the team!

Although they are arguing, each person's face is filled with smiles, their eyes brimming with passion and longing for their dreams.

Editor: But... how should I put it? It's a bit of a stretch to say it's purely for the dream.

Editor: You know how tiring it is. How much is a dream worth? Isn't it all for the salary and this group of people?

Editor: It's still more fun to dream together.

Everyone is stunned for a moment, and I blink my eyes.

Assistant Director: You're starting to get sentimental, huh?

Screenwriter: But it's true, I'd rather work overtime to write scripts for everyone than for those **** clients.

Watching my colleagues playfully bicker beside me, I can't help but smile, feeling an indescribable sense of gratitude.

When we get back, I'll give everyone a raise. And I'll earn even more money so we can all dream even bigger dreams together.

Dreams are built on the foundation of reality, and I'm lucky to have met partners who make them bloom even more beautifully.

Lucien: [murmurs quietly]...I see.

A soft voice falls in my ear, and I come back to reality to find Lucien murmuring something.

MC: What’s wrong?

Lucien: I just suddenly realized the meaning behind many seemingly meaningless moments in the past.

Lucien: If I had understood this sooner, I might have achieved better results with a gentler approach.

Seeming to sense my heavy gaze, he turns his head.

Lucien: Why are you looking at me like that?

MC: [smiles softly] I actually think you should be luckier than me.

Lucien: ...Why?

MC: Because scientific research is harder than what we do. For a long and uncertain outcome, there are still many people who choose to walk with you.

MC: They are all such talented people, but they all believe in you and are willing to dream with you.

His eyes seem to be filled with a surge of complex emotions, causing him to furrow his brows involuntarily.

Lucien: I thought it was just a sort of give-and-take relationship.

For some reason, his words made me feel a sense of loneliness.

Many words surge in my mind, but in the end, I only hold his hand.

MC: Perhaps humans, as these strange creatures, are more complex and greedy than you think.

✂— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

[Lux’s Short Reflections]

And with this, the MQ translation is done! :>. Personally, this one is probably the hardest translation I’ve ever done because of how poetic and delicate the words are... But! It still has a very interesting theme and ‘problem’ that I never thought of and I enjoy translating this one~

Lucien has… always been someone who moves ahead of others, and many people admire him and want to follow in his footsteps. However, his rapid pace unintentionally creates invisible pressure for others to keep up. Lucien struggled to understand why he caused this pressure and reflected on it, trying to find an answer. Perhaps, as a genius, he finds it hard to grasp that others need to work harder to reach his level, or maybe he moves so quickly that he doesn’t have time to reflect.

After opening up his heart to her, Lucien finally realized he also needed to rest. He understood that his hurried pace wasn’t just an instinct but a fear of stopping, which he equated with death. After realizing how far he already is in the ‘sea’, he finally grasped that he doesn’t need to keep pushing himself so hard and creating pressure for himself, as he has already come a long way. He can also feel exhausted, even if it’s not physical tiredness just like in last year's Distant Similarity MQ.

So, it’s okay to take a break, not only if you no longer can move forward, but also if you feel ‘tired’. If you're still reading and feeling like you're ‘not good enough’, take a moment to look back and see how far you've come. You’re wonderful for making it this far, so don’t forget to give yourself a break as a reward~ And lastly… thank you for reading!

#putting my short reflection at the end u.u enjoy!#mlqc lucien #mr love queen's choice #mlqc cn #mlqc spoiler #mlqc #mlqc translation #mr. love queen's choice #mr love lucien #mlqc xu mo #mlqc spoilers

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writing-whump · 28 days

Text

The Breaking Point

Seline and Isaiah have a TALK. Some pain and breathing problems after heart surgery mentioned.

"Are you feeling nauseous?" Seline asked as she adjusted the pillow behind Isaiah's back on the couch.

"Uhm," was the elaborative answer. She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes.

She fought tooth and nail for Isaiah's release from the hospital once she was sure she understood everything the recovery phase would entail. Arguing with the doctors, telling the nurses that the hospital was too much of an incubator of germs in Isaiah's condition and that as a wolf, he would feel more comfortable with his pack and territory at home.

What she didn't expect was Isaiah shutting down. Wasn't it supposed to get easier instead of harder?

Isaiah's lips were pressed in a tight line and he was had that sickly paleness about him that made it hard to gauge his state. His cheeks were gaunt, he lost weight in that one week at the hospital, only on IVs.

Although he could handle food now, the long list of medications he was adjusting to - from beta-blockers to blood-thinners like warfarin to aspirin to help with blood clots - had the unnerving side-effect of causing nausea.

He could get nausous from not eating and from eating and not eating the right stuff. Honestly, she didn't know what issue to adress first.

But Isaiah just watched her sullenly, set on not revealing a single helpful detail. Jesus Christ. It was like a time loop, like they were not getting anywhere, not learning anything.

Matthew was still crouched down, unlacing Isaiah's shoes. Bending down was not recommended after the surgery. As was no heavy lifting. Or strenuous exercise.

The more she kept mentioning it, the more sullen and unreadable his expression became.

Seriously. How was she supposed to handle it, if he didn't voice his pain? What issues to talk over?

"You don't have to stay, you know?" He said suddenly, leaning his head back on the couch.

"Excuse me?" Seline stumbled down to the couch, not sure she heard right.

Isaiah's lips twisted, but he still glared up at the ceiling. "What, you think I wouldn't notice? You keep listing the medications and all my limits and things that make me fragile and sick or whatever, but you are so disgusted you can't even look at me."

Seline felt her mouth fall open in a little o. She threw a helpless look at Matt, but he just shrugged. Looking all the way like he just wanted to hide under the bed and wait for the storm to pass.

Her hands closed in the firsts on the armrests. "So that's what you think? That I'm disgusted with you?"

"Yeah. And I'm sorry for getting sick, I truly am," Isaiah said, nonchalantly daggering her heart, "I tried my best. I tried to get better, to be happy to compensate for the stress from the previous years. I thought it would go away on its own. I'm sorry I disappointed you-"

"No."

"No? Am I wrong?" Isaiah said in challange, finally lifting his head. His vibrant green eyes were shining feverishly. At the back of her mind it hit her with concern, since the doctors said he might sport a low-grade fever for an entire month after the surgery.

"I'm not disgusted with you," Seline said slowly, still stunned. "I'm angry with you, you moron!" She jumped to her feet, pacing around the room. From the corner of the eye she could see Matthew taking the pharmacy bag and slithering away to the kitchen with a flinch.

"I can't believe it! You don't even know what you have done!"

Isaiah frowned, a hand subconsciously curling around his chest like it hurt to breathe. "What I have done...?"

"You kept it a secret! You were in pain for months, dizzy, nausous, everything and you. Didn't. Tell. Me." Her voice jumped up an octave and she had to swallow down against the emotion tightening her throat. "You have any idea how that felt, standing in front of that doctor asking me how long your problems been going on and not being able to answer? I felt like an outsider in my own relationship!"

Isaiah looked dumbfounded, like that had never crossed his mind at all.

She whirled around, eyes wide, cheeks flushed. "And the worst part is, that I didn't notice myself. It was partly my fault, maybe even half of the whole thing. More than Matthew's even, because at least he noticed."

"That was an accident, I didn't want him to know either-"

"Did you choose me because of that? Because you knew I would be ignorant, that I live in my own world, in my books and studies and writing and wouldn't push you to handle the hard parts?" She ignored how her eyes burned, practically screaming now.

"What? No!" Isaiah struggled to sit up straight, even paler than before, almost like a wax figurine. He took a long, laborious breath, wincing as he exhaled.

Regret and guilt shot through her like an arrow. "Isaiah, let's- let's stop this. I'm sorry, we shouldn't have started this when you're still-"

"I- I was trying to spare you," he wheezed. "You think this is easy for me? That I wanted to be this pathetic, weak and pained in front of you?!"

Seline stopped in her tracks, amazed and reluctant all at once. That was the first time he had ever raised his voice at her. More like croaked, but it was there.

"I wanted to deal with this myself. It was my family, my past, my dad who messed me up like this-" he coughed, hand now pressed against the incision side of his chest. "You think I wanted this for you? A partner in life with thousand of issues? Who is a burden to you?"

Seline sat down on the sofa next to him, reaching out her hand towards his, but he shook her off.

"Don't you dare suggest it was your fault," his voice was a whisper, but cutting like a knife. "That it had anything to do with you. You did everything right. You are perfect, understanding, confident, brilliant, with a loving family and artistic passions and-" he coughed again, chest rattling painfully as he struggled in to get enough air.

"Okay, lean back, Isaiah, lean back a bit." She out another pillow behind his back to prop him up. "Deep breaths, you are alright."

Isaiah obeyed, closing his eyes. His breathing was still so chocked up.

"If it hurts, I can give you the nitroglycerin tablet. It melts under the tongue and should have an immediate effect." Seline’s hands trembled slightly as she rubbed Isaiah’s arm. "You can't stress yourself out like this."

"Just—just give me a minute," Isaiah said. He didn't turn her hand away this time, so she sat there unmoving, trying to gauge her intervention from the changing colours on his face.

When he breathed in with relief, though shoulders still tense, she let out a breath too. "Want some water? Painkillers?"

Isaiah gave a tiny shake of his head, a no. "I need you...to understand..."

"We are not talking about this right now," she said sternly.

"No...we..." He took her hand in hers then, entwining their fingers. "I was in...denial. I wanted it...to go away...if I was happy...shouldn't it? I thought it would get...better and you wouldn't have to..."

"Isaiah," she said in a small voice, brushing the black bangs out of his eyes. He got all sweaty in those last five minutes. "You are such a fool. You know how many points you have over me?"

Isaiah squinted his eyes open, rolling towards her tiredly. "Points...?"

Seline nodded. "I keep a score. All the things you do for me versus those that I can do for you. I started counting so it wouldn't be too uneven in your favour." She pushed a blond curl behind her ear self-consciously. "But it still is. You do so much for me, for Matt, for the packs, for anyone who asks for your help. I can never get anywhere close. 100 points is quite the headstart, isn't it?"

Isaiah frowned deeply, breathing shakily.

"So you don't have to worry about being a burden or that we are taking care of you. You have done so much for us, this is the least to repay you."

"That's not-"

"It's not the main reason," she leaned her forehead against his shoulder. Just a gentle touch, no real weight behind it. "I want to do this for you. I want to be there for you. To be able to." She looked down at their hands holding each other. "Why won't you let me in?" she whispered. "What am I doing wrong that you keep pushing me away?"

Isaiah tugged his hand out of her grasp, and her heart sank. For a moment, he just looked at her, his expression caught between pain and something else—fear, maybe. Then, before she could fully process the look in his eyes, he put both his arms around her, squeezing her against his chest so tightly it hurt. His feverishly warm lips brushed against her temple.

"I love you," he whispered.

Seline let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, her arms wrapping around him in return. Something inside her heart clicked back into place. Warmth flooded her from her toes to the top of her head, mixing with the hurt, the tension, the love.

She sniffled and he winced, gently pushing her away just enough to see her face. The tears spilled over both her eyes at once, but she smiled at him. "So? How are you feeling?"

"Better than yesterday, worse than tomorrow," he said, bumping their noses together. "My chest hurts. And it's...hard to breathe still. Shooting up and over...to my arms, you know?"

She sighed in relief at the admission, her wet cheek pressed against his. "I got something for that."

#sickfic #hurt/comfort #angst #post op #chest pain #heart issues #my writing #werewolf wip #Isaiah

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totowlff · 8 months

Text

chapter 15 — family that i chose

➝ cassie discovers that pregnancy cravings suck

➝ word count: 2,6k

➝ warnings: none

➝ author’s note: if i wanna cry? yeah.

16 WEEKS The backbone and tiny muscles in your baby's back are gaining strength, so she can straighten out that head and neck even more. Thanks to those developing facial muscles, your baby is capable of making a few expressive frowns and squints, even at this early stage.

Cassie felt pathetic sitting inside of her car, nose red and eyes filling with tears, especially over something that would feel trivial a few months ago.

It all started over the summer, during her trip to Austria for the Grand Prix. Toto took her to a cafe in Vienna near his flat that served this specific type of pastry - almost like a cinnamon roll, but with chocolate filling instead. He said it was called schokoschnecken in German, but it was originally a Hungarian pastry called kakaós csiga. It meant the same thing in both languages - “chocolate snails”. She had one, and it was delicious, but it wasn’t something that she considered a highlight.

Well, until that week. Toto had traveled to Hungary, after all, it was another normal race week and that meant little time to talk to each other. They were able to conduct quick calls and messages about how she and the baby were doing, but Cassie felt strange every time she got off the phone.

It was as if the lack of Toto’s physical presence began to feel bigger with each day he spent away from her. Cassie even suspected it might be something related to her hormones, which she blamed on most things these days, including the way she felt uncomfortably bloated, had unpleasant heartburn, and was on a constant emotional rollercoaster. Deep down, she knew all of this was coming, and that she shouldn’t feel bad about it, but thinking about it just made her want to cry more.

She tried to calm herself down with some breathing exercises, letting her head fall back and gaze up at the roof of her car, but she was interrupted by her phone ringing. She glanced at the screen and realized who was calling, and took a moment to try and compose herself, wiping her cheeks before she answered.

— Hello, Cassie? — she heard Toto say. It sounded like he was smiling — How are you?

— Hi, Toto, I'm fine — Cassie said, cringing at the nasal quality to her voice — And you?

— Everything's fine here too, I'm coming back — he began, stopping after she sniffled once again — Are you crying?

— No, not at all…

— Yes, you are crying, I can tell by your voice. What happened?

— It's just — Cassie said, in a low voice — Remember the photo you sent me on Wednesday?

— The one with my breakfast at that cafe?

— Yeah.

— What about it?

— It's just that there was a plate with those… pastries I had in Vienna — she stammered, feeling her lower lip tremble — The chocolate rolls. The… chocolate snails, or whatever they were in German.

Cassie's voice broke, and she started sobbing again.

— Oh, my angel…

— I thought there wouldn't be any around here, so I bought some chocolate croissants at Sainsbury’s, but they were horrible. Then, I went to Waitrose and they didn't have anything like that, just cinnamon rolls. After that, I went to Pret and they only had ones with white chocolate — she continued, while tears ran down her face — And now I'm in front of a Danish bakery that one of the girls in marketing recommended to me, with an empty box of cinnamon rolls and in tears because I can’t find anything like it.

— Probably because it’s a Hungarian pastry — Toto murmured on the other end of the line.

— I remembered that it was like a cinnamon roll, so I thought that would be close enough to make these cravings go away — Cassie replied — And I feel like an idiot because I ate all these pastries for nothing and they’re probably not good for me, and the doctor said I’m supposed to be eating well so I don’t gain too much weight aside from the baby, but nothing else even sounds good right now…

— Cassandra…

— I even tried making them at home, but I didn’t let the dough rest long enough and all of the butter leaked out of them and they were really greasy and chewy — she continued, sobs punctuating her words and making fat tears fall into the empty box in her lap.

— My angel, listen to me — Toto interrupted her, his soft voice loosening the knot in her chest — Firstly, you shouldn't worry about getting fat. You are growing an entire human being and you have every right to eat whatever you want. I want you to worry about being well and happy, not about numbers on a scale.

She sniffled, looking at her belly, bulging under the blouse she was wearing.

— Are you sure? I feel so ugly…

— You could never be ugly, my angel — Toto replied, making her smile — You’re so gorgeous that you’re going to be the prettiest mama at the playground, the other parents won’t be able to take their eyes off of you.

Cassie giggled.

— Please, I’m not that…

— We’ll see about that, when you make a man faint because he saw the most gorgeous woman in the world holding the prettiest baby on the playground.

— What about the women that won’t be able to take their eyes off of the tall, handsome man with the charming accent pushing a stroller?

— We'll see, Cassie — he laughed — Now I need to go, okay?

Suddenly, her joy went out, like a candle that had just been blown out. The prospect of Toto hanging up was terrifying. Why did he make her feel this way? Why did the idea of not being able to talk to him for a while feel like her heart was being ripped out of her chest? Toto wasn’t her boyfriend, he was her boss and her daughter’s co-parent.

— Okay — Cassie mumbled.

— Don’t worry, Cassie. I’ll be back tomorrow, and I’ll come and check on you after I get back — the team principal said, just before the line went silent. She sighed as she stared at the screen as it went black. Cassie just wanted it to be the next evening.

A day later, the sound of the intercom put an end to Cassie's agony.

Jumping up from the sofa, she tapped the button on her intercom and let Toto in. She hovered uncomfortably by the door, trying to settle herself so that Toto wouldn’t see the way she was waiting for him. Hearing footsteps coming up the stairs, she opened the door for him. The smile that appeared on Cassie's face when she saw Toto was completely involuntary, but it turned into surprise when she saw that Toto was holding a pink pastry box.

— Toto?

— Ah, good evening, Cassie — he said, smiling. When he got close to her, Toto bent down to plant a cordial kiss on her cheek — Are you okay?

— Yeah — she stammered, as Toto stepped into her apartment and removed his shoes — What is this?

— What is what?

— This — Cassie said, pointing to the box he had just placed on the table in her entryway.

Toto smiled.

— Ah, someone called me yesterday saying she wanted to eat Hungarian chocolate rolls — he explained, opening the box almost theatrically, revealing a dozen glossy pastries, smothered in icing. Staring at the contents of the box, Cassie felt an inexplicable wave of heat expand through her chest.

— You got these for me? — she stammered, looking up at Toto.

— Of course, you said you wanted them, so I brought them to you.

— But, how? You said you were going straight from the circuit to the airport…

— I asked the catering staff to pack a box and leave it in my office after the race — he replied, anxiety written all over his expression — Aren't you going to try it?

— Can I? — Cassie asked, shyly.

— Of course, they are yours.

Taking one of the pastries, she took a careful bite, closing her eyes and letting out a long sigh. It was crispy on the outside and soft on the inside, the chocolate combining perfectly with the buttery layers of dough. As she chewed, Cassie couldn't help but be impressed by the texture and softness of it, even though they were probably a day old at that point.

When she opened her eyes again, she met Toto's attentive gaze.

— Good? — he asked, expectation clear on his face.

She nodded, taking another bite while he smiled with satisfaction at having accomplished his mission. However, as she chewed, Cassie noticed that his smile seemed almost mischievous.

— What? — she asked, mouth full of pastry.

— You’ve got something on your face — Toto replied, seeming to hold back a laugh.

Finding a bit of chocolate icing on the corner of her lips, Cassie wiped it off with her thumb, bringing it to her mouth and licking it off. However, that made Toto shake his head before taking a step forward. Silently, he brought his hand to the tip of her nose and gently rubbed her skin with his thumb.

Looking up at him, Cassie found warmth in Toto's brown eyes. It was as if he was standing in front of something precious, looking at someone who was truly important to him. And the feeling of being that person for him, of being relevant to the point where he brought a box of pastries directly from Hungary to satisfy her stupid pregnancy cravings, made her eyes fill with tears.

— Cassie? Are you okay?

— Yeah — she sniffed, running her fingers over her cheek — I’m okay, just...

Placing his hand over hers, concern was evident in Toto's eyes.

— Isn't that what you wanted?

— No… I mean, yes, it's what I wanted, just — Cassie's voice trailed off — It's really good. Better than I imagined.

The team principal smiled, his thumb stroking the back of her hand.

— I'm glad you like it, Cassie — Toto said — I was really upset after hearing you crying on the phone.

— I'm sorry about that — she said, looking down at the half-eaten pastry in her hand.

— No, there's no reason to apologize, my angel. I’ve read about the cravings pregnant women get and, like I said, I'm here for both of you — he assured, placing his other hand on her belly — And if our Ingrid wants chocolate snails, she'll have them, no matter what. I insist on that.

Staring into his eyes, Cassie could hear her own pulse in her ears, as well as a strange sensation in her abdomen. It was a kind of spasm, very different from the butterflies she used to feel when she was with Toto. When the feeling suddenly stopped, she realized what had happened.

And her eyes filled with tears again, this time, with joy.

— Cassie? — Toto asked softly.

Placing his hand in the exact spot on her belly, it only took a few seconds for the spasm to repeat itself. Toto looked down at her abdomen, seeming to process what had just happened.

— You felt that?

Toto looked up with wide eyes.

—That was…

— It's her — Cassie smiled, feeling — She's moving.

An incredulous laugh escaped his lips.

— Mein kleines Mädchen — Toto murmured, staring at Cassie's belly again, as if he could see Ingrid's little face through her skin. Then, he knelt in front of her— Dir gefielen die Süßigkeiten so gut, dass du dich entschieden hast, vorbeizukommen?

Feeling some strange impulse, Cassie brought her hand to the top of Toto’s head without thinking about it, stroking her fingers through his hair.

— Was für ein verspieltes kleines Mädchen du bist, Ingrid. Ich kann es kaum erwarten, Sie hier bei uns zu haben und unsere Tage in pure Freude zu verwandeln — he continued. After a new flutter, the two looked at each other, the tears in their eyes speaking much more than any words.

A few seconds later, he stood up and wrapped Cassie in a tight hug, pressing her head against his chest. The silence in the apartment's dining room carried a tranquility that was impossible to describe, at least in her view. With her eyes closed, she enjoyed the warmth of Toto's arms and his calm breathing, interrupted by the occasional sniffle.

This was the peace she had sought all her life.

— Thank you — Cassie whispered. The word made Toto pull away slightly to look at her, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

— For what? — he questioned.

— For the pastries.

— You know it was the least I could do for you, right? — Toto said, a mischievous smile on his lips — I'm here to support you in everything, it's my commitment to you and Ingrid.

— And that's why I'm thanking you. For being by my side from the beginning, when Ingrid was just a dream of mine — she said — I don't think I'll ever be able to thank you enough for getting into this with me, despite all of the hassle, the appointments -

Cassie's voice cracked. It still felt a little surreal that they had made it, that they were actually going to have a daughter together. But the slight flutter in her belly was proof enough that there was a little girl growing inside Cassie.

— And I would do it all again.

— Would you?

— Yes — Toto said, nodding — I would go through all the exams, all the conversations, all the stages of our legal agreement, all the bureaucratic procedures...

— Even the night we conceived her?

The silence that followed after Cassie's question was different from the one that had enveloped their embrace. Toto stared at her with an unreadable expression, as if he was thinking about what he would say to her.

— Well, yes — he replied, then added — Especially considering we wouldn't have Ingrid here if it weren't for what happened that night. Furthermore, if it hadn't happened, we would probably have had to continue with the insemination process and we would have run the risk of new failures, new frustrations...

Disappointment grew within Cassie as Toto continued babbling about how the process of continuing to try to have a baby artificially would probably have worn them both out. She knew that question had been risky, especially considering the particularly unknown territory they were exploring together.

However, there was a part of Cassie that wished Toto had responded that she would get through this because he liked her and wanted to take the next step, but those hopes were being dashed as he talked.

“How am I going to be happy like this, Toto?”, she thought, while he kissed her forehead again.

— Now I need to go, I have some things to organize at home and some emails to answer — he said, taking a step back.

— Are you sure? — Cassie stammered — I can make us something to eat, or we could order something...

— I don't want to keep you any more busy than necessary, and besides, you need to rest. You’re at the office tomorrow, right?

— Yes, I am — she murmured, almost disinterested — Getting things ready for the summer shutdown.

— Do you have any plans? — Toto asked, his hand still resting on the side of her belly.

— Well, I'm thinking about going to see my aunt in Chichester...

— Ah, Simone, right? — he smiled, confident that he had gotten it right.

— It's Sybil, Toto — Cassie laughed — And yes, that’s the one. She’s the only family I really talk to, aside from my sister. I don't even know where Aunt Penelope lives and you know that my father's family was never very affectionate with me, so it doesn't make sense to talk to them.

Toto’s gaze softened.

— They have no idea what they're missing.

— A real nuisance, my grandfather Albert would say.

— An extraordinary woman — he corrected her, before approaching and placing a kiss on her forehead again, accompanied by a hug — I’ll see you tomorrow?

— As always — Cassie replied, forcing a smile.

— Perfect — Toto said, before bending down slightly — Wir sehen uns auch morgen, okay? Ich liebe dich, mein kleines Mädchen.

Cassie walked him out of the apartment, and he hugged her again. As she closed the door, she spent a few seconds in silence, his warmth still present in the places where he had touched her body so tenderly. Placing her hands on her own belly, she tried to replicate the way he caressed her, feeling the first movements of their daughter, the child who would bond them forever.

The constant reminder that she was too difficult to love.

#toto wolff #formula 1 fic #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #wlffog #etlwlff #toto wolff x oc #formula 1 x oc #formula one x oc #f1 x oc #formula one fic #toto wolff fanfic #formula one fanfic

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kirishimasbabygirl · 2 years

Text

Therapy Session

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A/N: Hey Guys! This is the last part of my three part series! I hope you enjoy it! After this part I'm going to be doing a poll on what I should write next! I don't really like how this one turned out, I'm shit at happy endings lol

TW: Swearing, Angst, Kind of a Happy Ending

HERE'S Part 1 Part 2

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You and Katsuki have been going to your therapist, Dr. Reo, for a month, and he is trying, like, really trying.

He's been on time for these appointments, doing the exercises your therapist has given him, and has given you the space you need.

Hell, he even slept in the guest room for you, but he still hasn't answered the big question.

"Now, Mr. Bakugo, the question still stands after this past month I've seen the two of you; why did you cheat?"

You looked at him expectingly, leaning on the opposite side of the couch from him, arms crossed.

He had been asking himself this question many times this past few weeks.

Why did he do it?

He wasn't drunk; it wasn't that he wasn't satisfied by you; god knows he is.

"Because…" he thought to himself because I could.

He felt his blood run cold; he did it…because he could.

He had control over a situation and did it because he could.

"Because I could. I had control for the first time since I'd become a hero and made it to the top 10, Hell, since the wars in high school." He slumps back into the couch.

"Since I was a kid, the minute I got this power," He looks down at his hand, rubbing his scared fingers together.

"My life, my future, was already planned out for me, and I could get away with everything."

He lets out a shaky breath as tears gather in his red eyes.

"I thought I could get away with using that woman, that I could get away with hurting the love of my life all because I thought I could. Like I always do."

He looks out the corner of his eye to see you staring at him in horror, tears streaming down your beautiful face; he fucking hurt you so damn bad.

"Because of… what-" you croak, hands shaking as you bring them to your face, hassling, wiping the tears away.

"But!-" He adds, straightening up, reaching out for you, clasping your hands together.

"I don't…I don't want to feel that way." He looks at you pitifully

"Please…Please believe me."

You had nothing to say.

Dr. Reo nods his head at the blond.

"Well, that's progress, Mr. Bakugou; maybe you should take a step outside, take a breather while I talk to the Missus for the rest of our session?"

He stares at you a bit longer to ask if that is okay; you nod your head, dropping your gaze.

"Okay," he whispered as he dropped your hands and slowly stood up; he never took his eyes off you.

"I'll be right outside if you need me, okay?"

You have a tight-lipped smile; you can see him deflated at your reluctance to speak to him, nodding again as he exists in the room.

Dr. Reo focuses his attention on you.

"So, this is one of our last secluded sessions. Do you want me to be honest with you?"

You nod, fiddling with your hands; you can still feel his callous fingers on them.

He sighs at you, pulling his glasses off and placing them on the coffee table in front of you.

"Ms., I firmly believe that Bakugou needs one-on-one therapy; he's hoarding some deeply rooted issues; I can recommend a good hero specialist therapist if that's something he'd want, but as for your relationship."

You lean forward, hands on your knees.

"He loves you and feels genuine remorse, but it's up to you," He points his finger at you.

"Whether or not you forgive him."

You sigh, head falling; you want to, you do, really.

"I do, trust me; it's just…" You raised your hand and rubbed your face. "I'm just scared."

"Of?"

"Of him doing it again?"

He raises an eyebrow at you. "Are you asking yourself or me?"

That gave you pause.

"I… I'm scared of what people will say or how they'll look at me like I'm some pushover or a gold digger who'll let him fuck whoever as long as I get his money or some stupid shit."

You've read the magazines through the years the two of you have been together, you've seen all the clickbait titles on youtube videos and drama channels, and you know what they say about you.

He nods

"And he'll do it again like you must have seen her; she's a top model!" You laugh pitifully.

"And you were pro-hero Natural Disaster."

Your face dropped; you rather forget about your hero days.

"You love him?" He questions, you nod

"Do you want this to work out?" You nod again

"Then go make it work." He waves at the door

"It's gonna take a lot more than me to fix this, and even after all that work, you still don't have to forgive him."

You look over at the frosted glass door to see Katsuki's silhouette.

"This has been hard on both of you; he's moved out of your shared bedroom, avoided him, and refused to speak more than one sentence unless it's here."

You watch him pace back and forth in fount of the door, a nervous tick he has.

"By those actions, you're showing him that you don't want this to work, yet he comes to every meeting for you."

You feel your heart break while watching him.

Has he been this anxious since what happened?

The timer blares out; Dr. Reo leans over and taps his phone.

"Go; he needs you."

You nod numbly, slowly standing up.

The door opens, and there he is, waiting, and like clockwork, he extends his hand out for you to take, which you've been ignoring for a month, he knows you won't take it, but he tries.

'He needs you.'

He's surprised when he feels a soft, warm hand entangle with his callous and scared one.

He looks at you, but you refuse to meet his eyes; you might cry if you do.

"Let's go home Katsuki."

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His lips quiver, eyes welling up; he throws his head back, staring at the office's fluorescent lights as the tears run down his face.

"Y-yeah, let's go."

Tag List.

@samkysnks

@mikasaredscarf1

@jjkclub

@novalies

@sadcookie365

@sakusasimpbot

@sad0ni0n

#bakugou x reader #bnha #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo angst #Cheater!Bakugou #katsuki bakugo angst #kay writes #x reader angst #cheater!katsuki #mha x reader #mha #bnha x reader #katsukibakugou #bakugo katuski #bakugo x you

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anastasiaskarsgard · 4 months

Note

Could you do a one shot where the reader tries to rob the marquis de gramont’s house only for that to go wrong and now the reader is being interrogated.

You woke to a shrill bell, in a room you didn’t remember. Trying to get your bearings, you came to the realization that you had no memory of this place, and you were only wearing a pair of panties.

A screaming headache hit you as hard as the fact that they weren’t even your panties. Plum purple panties, with intricate lace and embroidered roses, looked far more delicate than anything you’d ever buy.

Scanning what you could see of the dimly lit room you were in, it became painfully obvious it was some sort of cell by the metal door and lack of any windows. The only piece of furniture, was a surprisingly ornate velvet chaise you were presently handcuffed to.

Frantically trying to recall how you ended up topless, in someone else’s underwear, in a dimly lit prison cell with no windows, you felt a panic attack swiftly approaching when you found no answers.

The last thing you could recall, was telling your twin sister you’d meet her in your shared suite, as soon as you swam a few more laps. You were in Paris for fashion week in a few days, and were very sought after by all the designers. Your sister ate a very strict restricted diet, while you were a bit more lax and liked food. Unfortunately that meant you had to work out to make up for the extra calories. You actually somewhat enjoyed exercise, and staying active, while your sister hated it. Still, you were amazed at your sisters restraint when it came to food. She never ate any carbs, any sugar, any processed foods, any refined grains, and even refused starchy vegetables and high sugar fruits. She also only ever drank water. Ever.

Maybe that was how you ended up here. Now that you were thinking about it, you had accepted a Mimosa from a fellow guest, but it’d been brought to you by a waitress and you hadn’t even finished it.

You hadn’t sensed any danger or nefarious intentions towards yourself or your sister, and had been recommended the resort by several fellow models and colleagues. You hoped your sister was at least okay.

Suddenly, the door swung open to reveal a tall well dressed man, glowering down at you.

Never one to be intimidated, even with the obvious enormous vulnerabilities you currently had, and no plan whatsoever, you were not about to be polite.

“Who the FUCK are you motherfucker, and WHERE ARE MY FUCKING CLOTHES?” You shouted towards the end. “And what the fuck is this shit?” You asked as you pointed to your wrist, cuffed to the sofa. “This is coming off RIGHT NOW and I’m leaving!”

The man stood there with the same rude facial expression, not responding or reacting to anything you said. Breathing hard, you watched and listened for a few seconds, before closing your eyes, and screaming at the top of your lungs, for as long as your lungs would allow.

Taking a deep breath, preparing to unleash another one, you peeked at your captor and froze your breath to see he was smiling at you. Fucking smiling!

You saw red. “What ARE YOU SMILING ABOUT? Come over here and I’ll give you something to smile about you fucking nut!” You shrieked.

“Sssshhhh!” He placed a finger on his full lips, shooshing you. “How will you know how to win the game, unless you listen to the rules?”

That was it. You were at a whole new level of pissed. You were so angry at the mere suggestion of this fucked up situation, being some weird game, it didn’t even occur to you, that you should probably be frightened. Maybe even terrified, but all you knew was you were going to kick this guys Ass. “Let. Me. Go. Now.”

“What? So you can sneak out again like you did last night? And after I had forgiven you for leaving the party and going through my personal things?” He shook his head amusedly. “You are going to tell me, exactly who hired you, and maybe I won’t kill you.”

Well shit.

Last night your sister had said she was going to bed early and you’d gone out and met up with friends. Could she have gone out after you left and tried to rob this hot guy? Didn’t sound possible, but here you are in a dungeon or something.

“Well? How hard do you want this to be?” He snapped.

“Okay hear me out. I’m a twin and I never went to anyone’s house yesterday so you must be looking for my sister. This really doesn’t sound like her type of deal but I’m always telling her she needs to go out and live a little.” Suddenly feeling overwhelmed, you laid back on the chaise and shut your eyes. “We are successful models here for fashion week, so I seriously doubt she was trying to jack you. She never steals anything so maybe she was just being nosy.”

Several minutes passed before you heard the man approach you and undo your handcuffed wrist. You opened your eyes to look at him and were stunned with how beautiful this man was. He glanced down at you, before standing to his full height and walking out of the room.

Jumping up, you quickly checked to see if the door was unlocked. Unsurprised that it was, you started to pace back and forth.

“CAN I AT LEAST HAVE SOME CLOTHES??!!?” You shouted.

Fully expecting to be ignored, you were surprised when the door swung open to reveal a woman holding out a couture looking dress on a hanger, “put this on. The Marquis wishes for you to join him for brunch.”

Nodding dumbly, you took the dress, and slipped it over your head, all the while sizing up this woman for escape. While she looked fit, she was considerably smaller than you, and you were certain you could take her.

Just as you were about to attack her, the door opened again, revealing two huge security personnel.

There goes that plan. You thought to yourself.

One of the men placed heels down on the floor in front of you. You’d never seen them before, but they fit, so you weren’t complaining.

Silently following after the woman, tailed by the two men, you couldn’t help but gape at your surroundings. While you imagined the place with a dungeon, must be fancy, you weren’t prepared for the level of opulence, and immense size of wherever this was.

Artwork that you’d studied in college, hung on the walls, and furniture you only saw in museums and magazines, surrounded you.

After walking for several minutes, you came to a dining area set in a sunroom. On the table was several breakfast and fruit options, and your stomach rumbled at the sight.

“Sit down. The Marquis will join you shortly. Do not try to escape, your guard detail is just outside the door, and it’s better not to upset my master.” The woman stated in a clipped tone, before exiting the room.

Taking a seat, you scanned around the room to see if any of the windows appeared to open. Deciding they likely did not, and even if they did, the wall surrounding the property, was so far away, you could barely even see it. This seemed like the type of place that had big scary Dobermans or something.

Turning your attention to the food, you sniffed it trying to determine if it was poisoned. Realizing you had no idea how to determine if something has been poisoned, you just picked up a piece of melon, and nibbled on it.

“Isn’t it rude to eat before everyone has arrived?” The Marquis asked as he walked in the room.

“Not as rude as handcuffing a woman to a chair in your dungeon in someone else’s underpants,” you replied cheekily.

Smirking and looking down, he nodded his head a bit before taking a seat. Turning his striking green eyes to you, he took in your appearance very deliberately. “I checked and you are in fact a twin.”

“Ding ding ding! Get this man a prize!”

The Marquis genuinely laughed, before leaning forward and pursing his plush lips. “How well do you know your sister? Are you two close?”

You picked up another piece of fruit and took a bite, maintaining eye contact with the man across from you. You weren’t sure where he was going with this, but you couldn’t see any harm answering questions, that a quick scan of your social media accounts would reveal the answers to.

“She’s the strait laced, conservative, boring version of me, with the self control of a monk, is what I would have said if you asked me yesterday. Today… I am torn between being mad at her, and proud of her.”

“Why proud?”

“Because look at you! Look at this place! You’ve even got some snobby title to boot, and she bagged you. Then she ghosted you, and obviously hurt your ego. She’s never this exciting.” You answered honestly.

“You find this behavior exciting? Flirting with a man, only to look through his belongings while he showers, and exit before he returns? This is acceptable behavior?” He asked indignantly.

Inwardly you were screaming. Your sister NEVER had one night stands. You have had a few and every time she gave you so much shit over it. Going so far as to tell friends and family about them, in an effort to shame you or something. It never worked, but it was irritating that she tried, and come to find out she was doing it too! You absolutely were going to give her an earful.

“Listen buddy, I’m honestly sorry that she did this to you. You’re obviously not used to rejection, and judging by how rich and important you must be, I can see where her looking through your stuff seems nefarious, but I guarantee you, no one hired her. She probably was just kinda tripping that she just had sex with some random gorgeous French guy and was curious, or she hella thought a guy like you must have a girlfriend so she was looking for clues. Now either she found some female items in your stuff and decided to leave, or she was just embarrassed about being a hoe bag, when she’s normally the biggest prude in America.” You leaned across the table and grabbed a pastry, “you’re not going to eat?”

He frowned at you, looking as though he was going to deny you, but seemed to change his mind and grabbed a few raspberries. Popping them in his mouth, he stared off in the distance contemplating something. “We did not sleep together. I had to take a shower because a drunken idiot, knocked an entire tray of desserts into me.”

“Why was she in your room?”

“She came here with an associate of mine, but it was clear from when they arrived, she was not interested in him romantically. He became belligerent, ordering her to leave and calling her all sorts of names. I personally don’t like that sort of behavior, so I had him removed. I approached your sister to offer her a car to take her home, but somehow we ended up talking most of the night. Then the drunken idiot incident happened, and she didn’t want to be left alone with a bunch of strangers, so she asked if she could accompany me. I honestly thought she was going to attempt to seduce me, but no such luck. She just sat down in the receiving area of my personal living quarters. I actually didn’t even take very long, but when I came out she was gone. I assumed she went back to the party, but was informed by my personal security, she’d left out a side door into the night. They were able to track her back to your hotel, where I had them pick her up, but I suppose grabbed you. You see, I have some very dangerous enemies that use various tactics to get to me, and I thought your sister was sent to infiltrate my space and possibly take something, or leave some type of device. I enjoyed her company, so I may have overreacted and automatically assumed the worst in her, when maybe I just live in a world that has made me paranoid and cruel.”

“Wow.” You stated. “That’s a lot to unpack. Rich people problems I guess. You don’t seem like too bad of a guy, now that I’m wearing clothes and not in a dungeon. Fucking bat shit crazy response to a chick just trying to leave tho. Especially the somebody else’s underwear part. That was terrifying.”

He cocked his eyebrow and smirked cockily. “I’m how do you say… strategic. I apologize, and hope you can forgive me. I have a driver at the ready to take you wherever you need to go, and will remain available to you for your entire stay. I also insist you and your sister go on an all expense paid shopping spree, to wherever you like as an apology for how we became acquainted.”

“What if I said I want you to drive me around?” You asked playfully. You couldn’t believe you were seriously flirting with this guy, but he was too interesting to just leave behind. You knew he was only offering the driver and shopping spree to persuade you not to report him to the authorities. You were pretty sure, that even if you did report him, nothing would come from it. He was the kind of rich that was above the law. You didn’t know what a Marquis was, but it likely meant he was a respected member of society, and nobody would believe some random American model saying she got kidnapped by him. He probably had thousands of women willing to give a kidney to go on a date with him. He was likely on some European eligible bachelor list or stalked by the paparazzi everywhere he went. You really wished you had your phone to google him.

“You are being serious?” He asked incredulously.

You were a bit offended he seemed so shocked by the suggestion. Was it that he didn’t drive that made your request so unbelievable, or was it the prospect of spending time with you? Crossing your arms, you stared back at him expectantly.

Scoffing, he rose from his seat and began to pace back and forth across the room, periodically glancing your way, never breaking stride.

He finally came to a stop when the woman from before entered the room and approached him. Speaking to her in a low tone that you couldn’t quite make out, she looked over at you with a surprised look on her face, before bowing to the Marquis, and rushing out of the room.

Still waiting for an answer to your question, you kept your arms crossed and stared straight ahead, even when he walked up next to you.

He lightly chuckled, and combed his fingers through your hair affectionately. “Your mood swings are so extreme. It’s a good thing you are so beautiful, or you might be considered a brat.”

Snapping your head to look up at him, you stuck your tongue out at him, and had to really focus not to bust out laughing at the expression that appeared on his face.

What did you have to lose at this point? “No one has ever stuck their tongue out at you, have they?” You inquired, with a snarky grin plastered across your face.

He scoffed and turned his nose up at you, so you took the oppurtunity to stand up and start walking towards the exit. “Let’s get a move on your majesty. I’m probably already late, and not showing up will cost me a small fortune. I’m under contract.”

“I have too many obligations. I cannot cancel everything to be your personal chauffeur.”

Stopping dead in your tracks, you turned around slowly, and placed your hands on your hips. Do you really think you can kidnap an international model, and then just say oopsie and send her off with a random driver? Don’t answer that, I won’t like your answer. I don’t care if you’re the king of France, you have to give me a day to make this up to me. Understood?” You dropped your hands, and marched up to the impeccably dressed man, never breaking eye contact.

Stopping just centimeters from his face, you had to hand it to him; he never flinched. But if he thought you were gonna back down, he had another thing coming. Over your dead body.

Ever so slowly, he kissed each cheek with a lingering kiss on each. “Au revoir, une fille.”

Before he could back away, you grabbed his face and kissed him square on his lips, pressing your body against his.

Meanwhile in the security room:

the security on duty, several other security personnel, and the servants were watching this crazy girl interact with one of the scariest men in Europe.

“Do you think she could possibly be so stupid?” One of the security guards asked to no one in particular.

“She is an American.” Another replied.

“And a model.” One of the maids added.

“Why hasn’t he killed her? He’s never so patient with anyone. And the way she takes such liberties with his person. It’s unimaginable!” The valet that would be driving this girl if she survived long enough asked.

“I saw him with the sister last night as well and he was absolutely enthralled with her. I’ve never seen him speak to a woman so long. He likely wishes to get to her, and will use her to get the other.”

“I don’t envy them. It’s never a happy ending when the Marquis takes a personal interest in you.” The head of security stated.

“Maybe he will fall for her…”

The entire room broke out in an uproar of laughter. Wiping tears from his eyes, a huge burly bodyguard lumbered out of the room, making his way to find his boss. Maybe if he convinced her to leave, his boss wouldn’t kill her.

Knocking at the door, just in case their activities had progressed, he waited several minutes for a response but none came. Turning to go back to the security room, and enjoy the show that was likely taking place on the other side of those doors, he froze at the sound of them bursting open.

“The entire day is just not possible. The best I can do is the morning.” The Marquis said as he followed the bossy American.

“Guess I’ll just have to kidnap you then. Which way to your cars?” She asked, still walking down the hall like she knew where she was going.

“I’ll have one brought around.”

“No I want to pick which one. Lead the way your majesty!”

Every employee watching, could not believe their eyes when the Marquis de Gramont, did just that.

#bill skarsgard #bill skarsgård #marquis de gramont #the marquis #marquis vincent de gramont #Marquis #John wick 4 #my writing

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