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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months

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End Game 7

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: hump day, wooooo.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Strange how you never found comfort at home. Well, it never felt like one for you. You were always just a hanger-on. A burden.

As you enter your grandma's house, you can't help but exhale the tension you've been holding in. She's in her chair, reading, not a word at your arrival. You go into the kitchen, set on eating the frozen meal you lost your appetite for the other night.

You peel back the corner on the tray and shove it in the microwave. As you shut the door, you nearly wince at the unexpected figure in the doorway. You don't know if you're really surprised or if Andy has you jumpy. Both.

"Want some coffee?" You offer your grandmother, hoping to appease her. "Tea?"

She grumbles and waves you off, shuffling across the tile in her slippers. She crosses her arms and her lip sticks out, "nice of that man to come all the way down here like that."

You turn your attention back to the countdown and shrug, "yeah."

"He didn't need to just for all that. For you, did he?" She prompts. Her interest both irks and worries you. She never cared about anything. "And after losing his family."

"Right, yeah, it's tough," you twiddle your fingers at your side.

"Don't sound so heartbroken," she scoffs, "Christ, wasn't that boy you're friend?"

You face her as the microwave beeps, "grandma..." you can't tell her. If she even bothered to listen, she wouldn't believe you. She doesn't even know Andy and she's already taking his side. Typical. "Yeah, I'm sad. Guess I'm a bit in shock."

You turn back and take the too hot tray out, holding back a hiss at the singe in your fingertips. You spin and cross the kitchen to grab a fork. Your grandma huffs and putters after you.

"He sent them flowers," she says.

You stir the noodles and cheese, "he did."

"Fancy. Expensive."

You don't really get why she's still harping on. She didn't put so much mind to your prom or graduation or even when you got your job. Yet you can't be surprised where she's strayed; she's always been on you about money.

"Seems to me he's a bit lost," she says, "you're..." she weighs her words before she speaks, something she rarely does, "maybe he's tryna find some direction. He might... might wanna take care of ya."

"Huh?" You make a face and glance at her from the corner of you eye.

"Like, I dunno, I watch those talk shows, grief is something nasty. I would know," she goes on. You can't remember the last time you heard her talk so much. "He only got-- had the one kid. You're about the same age... maybe he's tryna, I dunno, replace what he lost."

You nearly laugh in her face. Really? This is what she cares about? You stare at her and furrow your nose. You could tell her. You could try. She's listening. For once.

"I don't think... it's not... I'm not his responsibility and I don't wanna be."

"You're barely your own responsibility," she sneers, "can't see a good thing in front of you."

"Grandma--"

"Well? Pretty sure there's more where those flowers came from," he tuts, "you got a few hard lessons to learn, girlie.

You look down at the macaroni. You're not hungry anymore. You grab the tray and walk away.

"Yeah, well, maybe you shoulda tried to teach me some, huh?" You toss over your shoulder and stomp out of the kitchen.

You go into your room and kick your door shut. How is he doing this? How is everyone, even a woman who hasn't lived in reality for twenty years, on his side?

You put the tray and fork down and go to the other side of the bed. You sit facing the window and drop your head into your hands. The only person you have is too far away. Besides, you don't want to drag her into this. Not any more than you already have.

🎮

For once, you’re anxious to get to work. You welcome the distraction from everything else; debt, grandma, and the biggest problem of all, the one you won’t even name. You stroll up to the ice cream booth as Luis stands outside the window, chatting to Jessie as she stands at her vigil inside. You frown. You don’t see the manager often. Only when he hired you.

“Ah, there she is,” Luis spots you and waves you over, “right on time.”

As he checks his watch you pull out your phone. You’re early, like always. His presence is more than a coincidence. You have this ripply feeling in your stomach. You black your phone and cross your arms, hiding it under your elbow.

“Hi, how’s everything going?” You ask as you approach the kiosk.

“Everything’s great,” Luis smirks, “sunshine’s out, customers too.”

You glance around. The picnic tables are mostly full. It is the perfect weather for a scoop.

“Yeah, gonna be a busy shift,” you pander with a smile.

“Hey,” Luis wags his finger as if remembering something, “before you start, let’s have a chat.”

“Oh, alright,” you agree.

He waves you away from the window as more customers approach. You follow him to one of the tables. You wait for him to sit before you do the same. He looks around from behind his black lenses and tilts to reach into his back pocket. He slides out his phone and brings it forward to cradle in both hands.

“So uh, how are you liking it? The work?” He asks.

You’re uneasy. You stare at his cell then look him in the face.

“It’s good. Steady,” you answer as you keep your own phone in your lap.

“Mhmm,” he hums and once more glances around, “look, this is never easy but I got a complaint--”

You blink slowly. You’re not surprised. You figured it would happen. Still, you thought maybe Andy might be above that. Or anything at all.

“Obviously, I take these things seriously. This business is all about customer service, especially with the Dairy Queen down the block,” he explains, “but I do try to give the benefit of the doubt. I checked the cameras.” He pauses for effect as you shrink down, “you closed the window.”

You sigh and heave out a breath, “I did.”

“You know we don’t do that,” he reprimands.

“Sir, I know but... the customer... he wasn’t a customer. He’s... bothering me.”

He pokes his tongue into his cheek and scratches his neck, “oh? Didn’t look like that type. When I spoke to him, he didn’t even seem upset. He just asked me to check in, really, but it’s not his shop. He don’t gotta worry about the bottom line. I do.”

“It won’t happen again,” you wisp out.

“I know it won’t,” he says.

You sit, waiting for him to continue. He just stares at you. You shake your head. No.

“Sorry, I gotta let you go.”

“What? It’s my first complaint--”

“This is an ice cream shop, how many of those do you think we get? Not very hard to keep the people happy so if you’re getting unhappy customers, well, that’s all I need to know.”

“Please, Luis, I need this job--”

“Shouldn’t have closed the window. I’m sorry. That’s the one rule.’

“God, I--” you huff and snarl, “whatever. Fine.” You stand and untie your apron, “get your bottom line.”

You toss the apron on the table and swipe up your bag. You turn without waiting for another empty apology. Fuck. It’s shitty but hey, there’s always the DQ and now you have experience, right?

🎮

You fill out an application for the Dairy Queen and a few other places. Your job hunt has been chronic as it is. It’s only that your search for a second gig, is now back to square one. You have only your last check coming to you before you’re digging into your meagre savings; the money meant for tuition.

Your grandma is back to living in her novels. Good. You didn’t realise until before how much you preferred it.

As you close yourself in your room, your phone vibrates. You look down at the message. It’s him. He’s been messaging, still thinking he might talk you into it. He is a lawyer but this isn’t his court. This is your life.

How pathetic. A grown man meddling in the affairs of a nineteen-year-old. If you could let go of the catfishing, everything else has assured you of his character. You flop onto your bed and swipe away his texts.

You wallow there for a while. In self-pity, in futility, in listlessness. You don’t know what to do. Everything is at a standstill. You have no job, you don’t know if you can pay for next semester, let alone the year, and you’re stuck in this deadbeat town.

You put on a video to try to drown out the incessant anxiety. Today, you’re just going to let yourself sink. You can deal with everything tomorrow. You close your eyes and yawn, drifting into a haze that makes your head fuzzy.

You’re roused by another vibe of your phone. You ignore it. He’s not going to get an answer. He can keep skirting around your blocks but you’re not wasting your energy. You’ve told him enough times to leave you alone. He has to get bored eventually.

You roll over and bury your head in the pillow. You hear your grandma clunking around in the kitchen. You hate this place. You hate your life. The more you think about it, you can’t deny how horrible it really is, especially in the shadow of your dwindling future.

What did you do to deserve this? You’re a good person. At least, you’ve always tried to be. It feels like a lot of karma for that Twizzler you stole when you were eight.

Your grandmother keeps up the racket and your phone keeps on buzzing. You flip over and sit up. You snatch up the phone and stop yourself from flicking your thumb sideways. It isn’t him. It’s Kara. You never did call her back.

You answer and put her on speaker, “hey, sup?”

“Hey,” her voice is shaky, “uh, I don’t know.”

“What?” You sit up straighter, “is everything--” your voice trails off as you listen to the commotion on her end; chatter you can’t make out, movement obscured through the speaker, “what do you mean you don’t know?”

“The cops are here,” she murmurs, “I don’t know. They just showed up. Said they got a call from the landlord or something. Cause it’s the property owner, they can just come in or whatever. I don’t know, I don’t know...” Her voice quivers with panic, “me and Calvin were just hanging out...”

“That’s... why would they--”

“Shoot, I think...” she lowers her voice, “they must’ve found his stash. Shit, shit.”

“Kara?” Your heart races as you try to keep track of what’s going.

“Miss, can you please hang up the call? We need to question you,” a deep voice interjects.

“One second, I’m just on the phone with--”

“Miss, hang up or you’ll be charged with obstruction.”

The line cuts and you gape at your phone. What the hell? You try to dial back, the call rolls through but doesn’t pick up. You try again and again. You get out of bed and pace, texting Kara helplessly. Shit, shit! How is this happening? Over what? A tiny dime bag? Everyone smokes, not that you’re the biggest fan. Too smelly for you.

You put your hand to your forehead. What do you do? You can probably get a bus ticket. Even if you get to her, the bond is going to be way more than you can afford. You doubt you’ll even be able to scrape it together.

Do you call her parents? No, they’d kill her, then she’d kill you.

You shake as your legs turn to jello. You sit back down and close your eyes. Holy crap, this can’t be real.

Your phone vibrates. It doesn’t stop. You look down at the incoming call. Unknown Caller. You’re not stupid. You know it’s him and his timing assures you he had something to do with this. This isn’t a coincidence. Those don’t exist. If there was any sort of luck in this world, you would have found some by now.

“What?” You put the phone to your ear and snarl.

“I can help your friend,” he says.

You’re silent. You want to scream at him. You want to swear at him. You want to call him every nasty word you can. But this isn’t about you, not just you. You brought Kara into this mess, even if you never meant to. You won’t let her pay for your stupidity.

“Meet me at Oxford and Maris. There’s a restaurant--”

“Fine,” you snip and hang up.

You lower your phone and shudder. He won. Given his career, he must be used to that.

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #defending jacob #end game

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lilywastaken · 1 year

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⇝ together .

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!AFAB!Reader.

PART THREE OF MÉNAGE.

SUMMARY: A month after his return, you start warming up to Simon, only for him to ruin it.

WARNINGS: AFAB!Fem!Reader (no use of Y/N!), Fluff for once, Angst, mild nsfw, mentions of child abuse and abuse in general, canon typical violence, choking (not in a sexy way).

A/N: Finally finished!! I'm so sorry I haven't been able to get this out sooner, these past weeks have just been chocked full of assignments I had to finish 😭 I hope this lives up to everyone's expectations!!! Please don't forget to reblog and leave a comment, it helps a lot!!

WORD COUNT: 9.2k

MASTERLIST.

If you want to be tagged on future works, please follow and activate notifications on this account! — @lilynottaken !

Also on Ao3!

"'m blaming this on you."

You grumbled to Simon as you watched your son clap his hands against his father's, happy coos and gurgles leaving him.

"What?" He turned away from Tommy to look at you with a confused look, well, you assumed it was confused by the way his eyes were squinted. "How is this my fault?"

"He's copying you." You yawned, curling into the foetal position and pulling up the blanket over your body, head almost rolling off the sofa as you continued to pay attention to your son and his father's every movement. "You don't sleep so he doesn't."

"Not sure that's how his brain works yet." You could hear the amusement in his words, rolling your eyes as you switched your gaze from them up to the telly, that was playing some football game Simon had put on a few hours ago. "Think he's just not tired."

You know you should've expected this, Tommy's doctor had warned you at the last appointment when he'd gotten his first shots that he might experience some type of sleep regression, which meant more hours of staying awake while watching your son. And maybe it would've been worse for you if Simon wasn't there experiencing the same stress as you were. Weirdly, it felt nice to have another person in the same boat as you, even if he didn't really seem that keen on needing to sleep like you did.

Tommy seemed to had taken a liking to his father ever since the first day they'd both met, but that was kind of a given after Simon had spent the whole month after that coming over almost every single day (except for the days where he'd warned you before time that he'd be gone for work) and spending it all with his son.

You kind of hoped that Tommy had started to recognise him as a father like he did with you as a mother, since he was at the age where he was able to recognise caregivers; but even if he didn't, he did still cling onto Simon's hand every time it was time for him to leave like he did to you, tears bordering at his glassy eyes when you stood at the door with him in your arms waving goodbye to Simon.

You almost started crying every time he'd start making grabby hands at Simon, who'd rest his face against his son's tummy and let his chubby hands pull at the cloth of his balaclava, sometimes even pulling it up over his lips so he could press a quick kiss to his cheek, hiding his face immediately once you came in, unknowing that you'd been watching them before.

It wasn't like the bad blood that you had with Simon had magically been solved, you were still sometimes on edge or a bit snappy at him when it came to Tommy or your "relationship" with him, but you weren't as furious with him as you were when he first showed up.

"Not interestin' enough for you, am I?" Simon grunted as Tommy's attention drifted from the clapping to the telly above him, eyes wide as the presenter talked about some red card.

"You've bored him." You snickered, outstretching an arm to click your fingers, the sound immediately catching your son's attention. "Hi, duck!"

"He's not a bloody cat." Simon grumbled, picking up Tommy carefully from his spot on the blanket you'd draped on the floor for him to lie on, moving him onto your chest so he could cuddle into you.

You were about to snap back when Tommy interrupted you both with a wide yawn, chubby hands clinging onto your sleep shirt and eyes threatening to droop closed, although they were still stuck to the image of the footballers running across the field on the TV.

Both of you froze, Simon having been mid way to getting a toy he'd dropped not so long ago so he was stuck in that position, eyes wide and staring at his suddenly sleepy son.

You placed a soft hand on his back, pressing him further into your chest so the sound of your heartbeat would lull him to sleep easier.

But as luck would have it, a goal was scored right at the moment where his eyes finally fully closed, the commentators shouting out excitement and forcing your son back awake with a cry.

Simon and you groaned in unison, the man finally picking up the toy and collapsing on the ground, lying on his back right next to the sofa and glaring up at the ceiling, listening to you try and calm your son down from his abrupt awakening.

"Who scored?" You grumbled, masking your annoyance with interest.

"Not Manchester." Simon grunted back, raising a hand to take Tommy's, his fingers brushing against your chest in the process. "Haven't had a bloody win in a while."

"Sorry." You mumbled, remembering the disappointment that had shone in his eyes when you'd told him about some of the losses of the teams he liked he'd asked you to take a note of while he was away for work.

He'd done well at keeping his promise, sending you messages every time he had to leave, no longer disappearing without a trace, even if it was just a single day of paperwork or a check up at base. He sometimes also sent you pictures, whether it was him in his car showing you that he was close to your flat in case you weren't prepared for him or the takeaway menu at your favourite fast food place, asking for your order. They were always dark and a bit out of focus, but you couldn't deny that you hadn't let out a laugh when you'd seen the failed attempt of him trying to get out of frame, his skulled balaclava peeking out from a corner of the picture.

He'd been gone for a week this time, which explained why he was being so clingy towards Tommy ever since he'd arrived, takeout in hand and arms itching to wrap around his son, and had spent the whole last hour catching up with the both of you.

"Are you sleeping here tonight?" You yawned, closing your eyes for a moment and trying to ignore the squirming boy on your chest, his hands digging uncomfortably into your clavicle.

"Yeah. Though I probably won't be doing much sleepin'." He rumbled, letting Tommy wrap one of his chubby hands around one of Simon's big fingers. "Y'know I can just take over. Go get some rest."

You bit the inside of your cheek at that, looking away despite still having your eyes partly closed, your grip unintentionally tightening around Tommy's small body.

You were still put on edge whenever you left Tommy alone with Simon, even though he'd shown no ill towards you in any way, you just couldn't help it, the thought that something might happen to your sweet boy when he wasn't under your supervision was enough to strike an unexplainable fear into you. You knew that he'd noticed how your face turned sour whenever it was mentioned, but he hadn't ceased asking completely, knowing that sooner or later you'd have to entrust him with your son like you'd both agreed.

"Is that okay…?" You whispered, your voice barely audible over the cheers and cries of excitement from the telly, but by the way he turned his head towards you and squeezed Tommy's hand, you knew he heard you.

"Yeah. Don' worry. You need some rest."

You both stayed put for a few seconds, your hands slowly falling from their place on your son's back and scooping him up carefully before pushing yourself off the sofa, forcing Tommy's hand out of Simon's in the process.

You watched carefully as he shifted off the floor to sit next to you on the sofa, his built arms moving to cradle his son in their crook, rocking him slowly as you got up, anxiously fidgeting with your fingers as you stood and watched them both for a moment, almost terrified of taking a step out of their vicinity.

"Go." Simon commanded, getting comfy on the sofa as he turned his attention back to the game playing on the telly, the assertive tone that his voice took enough to send shivers running down your spine, nodding your head out of instinct before scurrying away like one of the rookies Simon was oh-so used to ordering around back at base.

After having a well deserved shower and pulling on some of your cosiest pyjamas, you let your body collapse onto your bed, curling into the middle where the mattress dipped and covering yourself up with your countless amount of blankets due to the chill that had overcome the country after a few rare weeks of warmth.

You smiled as you remembered how happy Tommy had looked when you'd taken him out in his stroller and let him bask in the sunlight for a bit while sitting next to him at the park, trying your best to focus on his giggles and not on the shadowy figure of his father standing behind you, more like a bodyguard waiting to take out any threats to you both instead of the father he claimed to want to be.

You let out a huff at the memory of how cautious Simon had been at first around you both, almost like a stray cat getting used to their new family: always standing around you but never too close, bringing you small gifts (i.e. takeout or groceries he thought you'd need or Tommy's new favourite teddy bear he now slept with instead of his duck), slowly making your home his own unconsciously by leaving some of his clothes packed away in a small corner of your wardrobe or packing the fridge with some of how own personal food items.

You'd noticed, of course. How could you not?

At first, when you'd found some of his clothes in the midst of the batch of laundry you were tending to, you were struck with fear. Fear that everything you'd worked hard to build was going to be invaded by this barely known presence you were just starting to get used to, but as time went on, you realised there was nothing scary about it.

It was oddly comforting, in a way. It made you feel less alone when you spotted the extra toothbrush he'd plopped in the glass next to yours, the mug he'd brought over after he'd exclaimed his concern that all of yours were fit for coffee and not for tea or the hoodies he left lying around that Tommy loved curling into whether Simon was wearing it or not.

You pulled a pillow into your arms, simulating the feeling of your son in your arms you'd gotten so used to in order to fall asleep, closing your eyes and letting the muffled sounds of the football game still playing on the TV and your son's faint giggles lull you slowly to your first proper sleep in a while.

You were pulled awake by the sound of your phone going off, your whole body jerking up and rushing to grab it out of instinct, the bright screen illuminating your room and forcing a groan out of you at the disturbance, letting your eyes focus until you were able to properly read the notification.

A frustrated sound left your lips at the message from one of the dating apps you'd forgotten you had informing you that you'd matched with someone, angered that it had been something so stupid that had woken you up from one of the best sleeps you'd had in a long time and not something important.

You fell back down onto the mattress, planning on closing your eyes and curling back into the pillow you'd been spooning moments before, but as your body slowly calmed down from the initial shock that had filled it, you were met with nothing but silence.

Your eyes had adjusted enough at this point that you were able to turn your head over to your door, frowning at the lack of light that normally came from under the door when the living room was lit, raising your head from the pillow slightly in an attempt to catch out any sounds that might be originating from anywhere in your flat.

But once again, silence continued to rule over your home.

You could've just closed your eyes and willed yourself to fall back asleep, but the creeping feeling that it was too quiet for how it normally was, that something might have happened in the few hours you'd let yourself rest was slowly burrowing itself in your mind.

And fuck, what if Simon had done something? What I'd you'd misjudged him? What if he'd taken advantage of your tired state and just fucked off with your son in his arms, leaving you broken and abandoned once again?

The fear that struck your body at that train of thought was enough to wake you up properly, allowing your body to act like it had just consumed countless amounts of caffeine and rush over to the partly open door, slowly pushing it open before looking around frantically, eyes landing on the back of the sofa and on the turned off TV in front of it.

Your hand landed on the headrest, your heart skipping a beat as your eyes landed on Simon's sleeping body, his arms protectively wrapped around Tommy, who was resting on his chest like he'd been with you before you'd gone to rest.

You made it fully around until you were standing in front of the sofa, one of your hands coming up to grab at your thin sleep shirt right over the place your heart was currently hammering against out of relief.

Fuck…

Of course he hadn't left.

You were just being paranoid.

Simon had shown you no ill will the whole time he'd been here, but you were still on edge, assuming the worst from him…

A staggered breath left your lips, your hands coming up to cover your face as you willed your body to calm down, your legs trembling as the adrenaline that had rushed through you momentarily started to fade, leaving you confused and exhausted.

One of your legs threatened to give out, and as soon as you were getting ready to collapse, a warm hand grabbed at your thigh, a silent scream threatening to leave you until you realised who it belonged to, staring down with wide eyes at your son's father, one of the hands that had been cradling Tommy now holding your leg with the same care.

"What happened?!"

You could see the panic in his eyes despite the darkness that enveloped the room, his thumb slowly rubbing up and down your skin, his best attempt at soothing whatever pain you were harbouring that he had no idea about.

He called your name, pulling you closer to the sofa so you were kneeling on the free space of the plush sofa, staring down at Simon's chest and raising one of your hands up to your son's little head, running through his thin hair.

"What happened?" He repeated, more assertive this time rather than the panicked tone he had taken before, his hand moving from the back of your thigh up to your waist, almost like it was natural to do so.

"Nothing…" you finally let out, blinking away some of the tears you hadn't realised that had formed at your waterline. "Just… Uhm…"

"...Nightmare?" He offered an easier excuse than the real reason you'd pulled yourself out of bed at such an hour, slowly nodding your head in agreement and causing him to let out a sigh. "Do you-"

"I'm okay. Just… shaken up." By the way you were anxiously running your fingers through Tommy's hair as if to assure yourself that he was real, that he was indeed lying there asleep (something you hadn't realised up until that moment, Simon had somehow actually gotten Tommy to take a nap.), he assumed that whatever nightmare you'd had was related to him. "Needed to check that he was okay."

Yeah, that cemented it.

Simon would be lying if he said he hadn't a few nightmares of his own about Tommy ever since he'd met him properly, whether it was him forcibly being taken away from you by one of the many enemies he'd made across his life or a freak accident ending any hopes he'd had of all of you being a family.

And maybe they were a bit out of pocket, he'd made it very hard for anyone to trace you or Tommy back to him by always parking his car a few blocks away, making sure that Tommy had your last name instead of his and that the military had no idea about his offspring.

He couldn't have any records that would link you two to him, he couldn't even risk taking that chance, he knew that as soon as two of his weaknesses were revealed, it would only be a matter of time for them to be exploited by his enemies.

So, he understood. He understood the fear that came with a nightmare about your son, the need to see him and reinforce the fact that he was okay in your head.

"He is. Tired 'imself out a few hours ago." He moved towards the back of the sofa, allowing you space to sit next to them both, his hand still continuing to rest on your warm skin and pulling you along carefully, ready to pull away the moment you showed any signs of uncomfort.

"How come he sleeps for you?" You mumbled, more of a thought to yourself rather than something you wanted to share, but it caused Simon to smile beneath his mask nonetheless, raising his other hand up to Tommy's head to run a finger down his little nose, ignoring the way his heart rate spiked when it brushed against yours.

He thought about making a joke about being his favourite, hoping that it would brighten the mood a bit, but then remembered the look of dismay that would come over his teammates' faces whenever he made one about anything, and on second thought, maybe he'd have to wait a bit until you were both comfortable enough to enjoy his stupid jokes.

"Guess he's bored of me. You're much more entertainin' to be awake around." He rumbled, a soft chuckle leaving your lips at what you assumed was an attempt to lift your spirits.

"Yeah…" you smiled, leaning your body on the arm that was propping you up, your hand ceasing its brushing of Tommy's hair and simply resting on his small head, your heart growing bigger as he let out a little coo, snuggling further into Simon's hoodie.

You hadn't even been thinking about the hand cupping your waist, too focused on your son's sleeping figure and the warmth that it brought you, unconsciously wriggling a bit further into the touch, but you froze once Simon's hand immediately snapped back from you, as if he'd taken that as an immediate sign that he had broken a few boundaries by getting too close.

"Sorry."

You bit on your tongue, not wanting to full admit how much reassurance his touch had brought you and how much you'd give to have it back (you blamed the neediness on how exhausted your body was and the delirium that came with the lack of sleep you'd been subject to recently), not making any move to answer and instead focusing fully on your son.

"You want to take him?" Simon offered, leaning further up the sofa so he was kind of sitting, kind of lying on the arm rest. "Don' kids sleep better with their mams?"

"I… I think that may be a myth." You breathed out a chuckle, shaking your head as he made a move to hand Tommy over to you. "No, it's okay. I move a lot at night, I don't - I don't want to hurt him, you know?"

Simon turned down to the fragile little human he was holding, remembering the exact moment he'd realised that you were both in charge of taking care of him, of keeping him out of danger and stopping anyone and anything from shattering the little being that seemed to be made of glass.

"That's fine."

Silence fell over the both of you, an awkward atmosphere forming as you didn't move, feeling as time went on that you were invading the little personal space he was allowed to have in your flat.

"D'you want to stay?"

What?

Your brain short-circuited, blinking at him owlishly, as if he'd just spoken in an unknown language, the words still processing in your mind.

"Stay?" You managed out, looking down at the space between you both, a space where you could easily fit into if you were to snuggle into his side and let him hold you.

But surely, he wasn't suggesting that.

Memories of how he'd held you that fateful night flooded your mind, his warm calloused hands sprawled out against the bare skin of your waist, the sound of his heartbeat drumming against his ribcage lulling you to sleep…

"Yeah, stay."

…It made you want to accept.

Made you want to melt into his side and wrap an arm around his wide chest, tangle your fingers in your son's soft hair and lie there with them both, making sure that no harm could come to Tommy thanks to the protective shadow that was Simon Riley.

But you couldn't. You knew that.

The walls you'd built while carrying Tommy in hopes that you'd never be hurt or abandoned again, the walls that had kept you relatively safe within the expanse of your mind refused to crumble, refused to make way for the man that had come barreling back into your life and threatened to destroy them.

You couldn't risk it.

So, you didn't.

You pulled your hand away from your son as if he burned, cradling it against your chest and looking away from Simon's imposing stare, the look in his eyes making you want to squirm and cry and adhere to anything he wanted.

"No." If you'd still been looking at him, you would have noticed the way his shoulders slumped, the way the dim light in his eyes proceeded to disappear at the single word that left your mouth. "Thanks."

It seemed every little step of progress you'd both taken together the whole month immediately dissipated away thanks to his idiotic question.

Of course you'd fucking refuse his stupid invitation, what was he thinking? That you were both a happy couple who didn't pass on any chance to hold each other in your arms? That he was your husband, the proper father of your son who you loved and cared for, who you enjoyed having pressed right against you? He was a fucking idiot. He couldn't contain himself for once in his life and he'd gone and ruined everything.

"Okay." Despite the inner turmoil that raged inside of him, that simple word of affirmation was all he could get out, and he hoped to whatever god was up there (that apparently loved torturing him) that you'd both wake up the next day without a single recollection of what had happened last night.

"Good night." You whispered, pushing yourself off the sofa and wrapping your arms around your chest, immediately regretting every single one of your actions that night as you gazed upon how truly comfy and warm Simon and your son looked snuggled together, wishing that you had the emotional capability to let your resentment go and indulge in Simon's touch.

"'Night."

You willed yourself to take the first step back, tearing your gaze away from them and heading back to your bedroom, your face erupting into warmth out of a mixture of embarrassment and sadness, a clear sign that your body wanted nothing more than to just burst into tears and let Simon wrap you up in his arms and soothe you down like you knew he could.

You buried your face into your pillow as soon as you made it back into your now-cold mess of sheets, tugging one of the pillows back into your arms and doing your best to imagine that it was someone else, someone else who was as willing as you'd imagined Simon had been before to have you in their arms, to stroke your hair and calm you down because they loved you, because they cared about you and wanted nothing more than to see you as happy as you'd been a mere few hours ago.

You passed out soon enough, a few tears running down your cheeks as you subconsciously wrapped yourself around the pillow like a koala, the tear stains quickly disappearing during the night and lacking any evidence that they were once there when Simon walked through your door in the early morning, standing at the side of your bed for a few moments before he leaned over, pulling up the covers and tucking them around your sleeping body.

The sound of the shower coming alive and the pipes groaning was the thing that pulled you awake, struggling a few moments to rid yourself of the covers that pushed onto you, wondering to yourself when and how you'd tucked yourself in so aggressively, turning your head towards your bathroom and listening to the clinking of shampoo bottles and the water as it hit the tiled walls.

Your bathroom was unfortunately directly connected to your bedroom, so in order to get into the shower, Simon would have had to pass by your bed and… tuck you in? Did he really tuck you in?

You pulled languidly at the covers, looking down at your nightwear and growing warm as you saw how transparent your shirt looked in the morning light, leaving almost nothing to the imagination of whoever were to look down at your chest.

Simon had seen you like that.

You squeezed your eyes closed out of embarrassment, as if he was right there judging you with his stupid thousand yard stare, lifting yourself off the mattress and looking around your wardrobe for a shirt, restoring to a band one you'd stolen from one of your ex boyfriends you'd never had the heart to throw out.

You were mid straightening it out, your previous night shirt now pooling at your feet, when the door to the bathroom opened, your immediate response being to wrap your arms around your chest and let out a cry of warning, turning around so he was facing your back.

"Fuckin'-"

"Go back in!" You cried out, wanting nothing more than for the earth to burst open and swallow you whole, feeling too tired to be dealing with this kind of embarrassment at such an early hour of the morning.

You cracked an eye open as the door closed, letting the grip you'd had on the shirt go as you faintly heard Simon curse, trying to erase the memory of what had happened out of your brain.

As you pulled on the shirt, you willed yourself to think about anything other than the glimpse of flesh you'd seen before turning around, the wide chest that had been littered with the scars he'd once let you trace over, the towel around his waist that had barely cov-

Stop!

Unknown to you, Simon was having a similar dispute with himself from inside the bathroom, resting his flushed face on the cool tiles of the wall as he listened to you shuffle around your room, cursing himself out for being so goddamn stupid and exiting the bathroom without even checking if you were awake or not.

That wasn't the only reason he should've checked, he thought you'd still be asleep, so stupidly, he'd gone out with barely any coverings, including the one on his face, so he was pretty sure you would've seen the way his eyes almost immediately darted down towards your chest if you hadn't been busy enough with covering yourself and ogling at his chest.

"Fuck…" he breathed out, running his fingers through his hair and looking at himself in the foggy mirror, the tired, broken stare of a being he could barely consider a man staring back at him.

After a few more moments of staring at himself he couldn't bear it anymore, grabbing his discarded balaclava and pulling it over his what he considered broken face, his other clothes continuing as he did his best to cover every single patch of skin he could, hand landing on the doorknob once he was finished and asking for confirmation.

You'd about finished putting on the shirt when he'd piped up from inside, letting out a small "you can." before he opened the door again, face now covered and eyes darting down at the oversized shirt you'd pulled over your bottoms, closing it behind him.

"Didn't know you'd be changin'." He grumbled, his way of apologising without saying the exact words, eyes scanning the band on your shirt. "Y'like Joy Division?"

"Huh?" You looked down at the shirt, straightening it out to properly look at the band you'd forgotten was plastered on the front, shrugging slightly. "Yeah, they're good. I'm, uh, not the biggest fan. This was my boyfriend's."

"Boyfriend?" He spat out, almost with malice.

"Ex." You clarified, pulling at the ends of your shirt out of nerves, the way he was staring down at you reminiscent of how you'd assume higher ups looked down at their soldiers when they were in the wrong.

"Right." He grunted, looking away from you and training his stare at the bedroom door, nodding towards it. "'M gonna go check on Tom."

He brushed past you, leaving you standing in the middle of your bedroom twiddling your thumbs, confused and embarrassed due to the interaction you'd just shared.

You walked into the kitchen, stopping in your tracks when you noted that the dishes you'd left last night after Simon had brought take away had been cleaned right up, the plastic bowls from the curry thrown away in the recycling along with the other trash you'd used when making Tommy formula (you resorted to using that instead of pumping or breastfeeding when Simon was over).

God, now you felt even worse for what had happened last night.

You rubbed your hands all over your face, digging your nails into your scalp as you ran them through your hair, snapping your head up as your heard your son giggle, going back a few steps to look through the crack of the door, your chest tightening as you watched Simon feed Tommy, murmuring a string of words you were too far away to understand.

Fuck, you really felt awful.

You pulled out a few ingredients, acting almost on autopilot as you fried the sausages and toasted the bread, making his tea subconsciously the way you know he liked it (he'd never forced you to make tea, you'd seen the sticker on a takeaway cup he'd left on the counter), and pouring it into the cup he always used.

"You didn't have to." Simon mumbled as he walked out of the nursery, holding the empty bottle of milk in one hand and a plastic bag with a dirty nappy in the other, looking down at the plate of food you'd made him.

"I wanted to." You mumbled, taking a bite out of your own buttered toast as you watched him walk around the kitchen, throwing away the bag and cleaning out the bottle before starting on his breakfast, standing at the island instead of sitting like you were. "As thanks. For, uhm, cleaning up."

"It was nothin' deserving of this." He mumbled underneath his breath, shoving a spoonful of the baked beans into his mouth, now visible thanks to him pulling up his balaclava, the taste of the normal breakfast he'd have at whatever café he normally went to complete shit compared to yours.

"It's fine. I went a little overboard, it's been a while since I've cooked for someone."

He let out an amused huff, nodding his head. "Yeah, babies don' really need a full brekkie."

You both went silent after that, your eyes looking around at everything but at him, secretly hoping that he was enjoying the food, wishing you would've put on the radio or the news so you weren't sitting in complete silence.

The tapping of his fingers against the counter finally pulled your gaze towards him, watching him carefully as you continued to eat.

"Laswell called."

Laswell?

The face you made must've made him realise you had no idea who he was talking about, his hand coming up to grab the mug of tea and take a long sip before speaking again.

"Station Chief Laswell." You nodded along, hoping that he'd believe that you actually knew what he was saying. "She's got a mission f'us."

Oh.

"When?" You spoke out, a bit choked up as you tried your best to focus on the food instead, you always got unexplainably nervous when he left for a mission, despite the fact that he always came back.

"Gotta be there by 1."

You turned to look at the time on the microwave, the 09:00 displayed there striking unexplainable fear in you.

"You should get going, then."

"I should."

Neither one of you moved.

"Did you say goodbye to Tommy?"

"I did." He took a final sip of his tea, placing the cup down and turning to look at the nursery, the strangling pain he felt every time he left you coming back to haunt him. "Changed his nappy too. Like y'taught me."

You smiled at the memory. A few days after he'd first shown up you'd tried your best to teach him how to change Tommy and you'd gone through almost 10 nappies by the time he'd been able to put one decent enough (you'd quickly changed it yourself after he'd turned around, you didn't want the nappy to cut off your baby's circulation), so you hoped that he'd actually done it properly this time.

"Thank you…" You offered him a small smile, looking down at your own cuppa, wrapping your arms around the now lukewarm mug. "Go get ready. I'll clean up."

Simon really didn't want to, he wanted to continue standing there talking to you, gazing at your tired face and how cute you looked taking small bites out of the food you'd made that you'd undoubtedly wouldn't finish and would slide over to him like you'd done all those times before.

But he couldn't. He was a soldier. One that was trained to kill and follow orders no matter what and no matter the circumstance, one that would be laughed at if he called in saying he wanted to stay with- well, whatever you were to him.

He was about to zip up the duffle bag he'd left in your room during his small stay when he caught a glimpse of something he'd forgotten about.

The gun was relatively light in his hand, one that was smaller than the ones he was used to carrying out in the field, but could quickly figure out how to use in the span of a millisecond.

He called out your name, rapping his knuckles against the counter to catch your attention, raising his arms in surrender as fear filled your face, dropping the plate into the sink and taking a step back as soon as you caught sight of the gun.

"Simon! What the fu-"

"It's not loaded." His other hand waved around the magazine, placing them both down on the island in front of you both. "I'm not going to use it."

"I would fucking hope so!" You cried out, wiping off the soap suds on a towel and pressing your back into the counter, gripping the edge of it as if he was really threatening you with the gun.

"Do you know how to shoot one?"

You shook your head. You'd never even seen one this close apart from the rare policemen that carried one, let alone held one.

"Come." He picked them two items up, walking back into your room and waiting for you at the door to follow, worried about what he was planning on doing. "Where would you keep a gun?"

You turned to him with a raised eyebrow, once again expressing your confusion with a single stare before turning to the bedside table closest to the side you normally slept in, pulling the drawer out and immediately growing warm as you gazed down at the string of condoms along with some other items.

"Here, I suppose…" You watched him sit down on the bed, the mattress immediately sinking beneath his weight as he raised the gun and magazine up into your line of view.

"Take it."

You shakily did as he said, the gun feeling heavy in your palms in contrast to how easy it had felt for Simon, turning it around a few times as he continued to speak, pointing out every single detail and part of what he had soon let you know was a Glock.

"It's the one most policemen carry. Not very heavy, but still capable of takin' down a man." He murmured, almost letting out a chuckle as he took the gun and cocked it, making you jump at the sudden sound.

"Why would I want to take down a man?" You asked tentatively, taking it back from him and trying to fit in the magazine like he'd instructed you to.

A warm hand came up to cover yours, stopping you in your tracks and allowing him to get up and take the firearm from you, pulling out the magazine and placing them both in the drawer, trying his best to ignore the other items that were scattered around.

"Listen to me." He turned his head as he slammed the drawer shut, staring directly into your eyes to make sure that you were paying attention. "I cannot ensure your safety while I'm gone. There's tons of fucked up people who'd take whatever change to tear me down and would not think twice about using you or Tommy to do so. This is just in case. You only use this if you or Tommy are in imminent danger. If there is someone threatening any of you, you do not hesitate, you take the gun and use it."

Use it.

Use it!?

His hand came up to cup at your cheek, pulling you out of your swarming thoughts so he could be sure you were listening.

"I- Simon, I can't- I'll go to jail if I use it, I can't-"

"You won't." He interrupted, shaking his head. "I won't let them. You're under my protection, this is just in case of emergency when I'm not around."

You nodded, not knowing what else to do, the gun that had been in your hands mere moments ago feeling like a burden despite it being locked away.

"Oi. Lovie, look at me."

That immediately caught your attention.

"Tell me you understand."

Your mouth had gone dry, the combination of the shock behind his little surprise and the nickname that had slipped out of his mouth proving to be too much to handle.

"Tell me. You understand."

You took a deep breath, nodding your head. "I understand, Simon."

Even after he'd left, you couldn't shake yourself off that foreboding feeling, terrified that the moment where you'd have to use the gun would arrive sometime soon, the thought of you or Tommy coming into danger while Simon wasn't around enough to make you want to crumble into tiny pieces.

You'd stood by the door like you always did, although this time Tommy was fast asleep in his crib and your arms were empty, leaving you to say goodbye to Simon (although looking up into his eyes, you knew he wasn't Simon anymore) all by yourself.

"When d'you think you'll be back?" You whispered as he opened the door, not wanting to disturb any of the neighbours that might be loitering around (despite knowing that news about the terrifying man that resided in your apartment had travelled quick after he'd threatened your neighbour), handing him his jacket.

"A week, tops. I'll send you a text as soon as I know." He grunted, shoving on his jacket before pulling up his duffle bag, swinging it over his shoulder. "You need anythin', you call base, okay? They'll relay the message if it's necessary."

He'd given you the number to his base a few weeks ago, but you knew you'd never have the heart to call it, too embarrassed that the little problem you were currently having was nothing compared to what Simon was going through, and you didn't want to disturb any of his work if it really wasn't that important.

"Sent you money this morning. You got enough for a month." He went through his mental list of everything he should say to you before going, leaning against the door frame and looking down at you through heavy eyelids. "Get some takeout, don't strain yourself any more than you already are. Doctor said you should take it easy."

You dismissed the urge to roll your eyes, cursing yourself out for even allowing him to take you to the doctor in the first place and listen in.

"I know. I'll be fine, Simon. You just worry about yourself."

"Always do." He said, nodding his head as a form of goodbye before pushing himself off the doorframe, heading towards the elevator and leaving you standing there, only closing the door when you heard the front door close from all the way downstairs.

— I think he misses you.

— Won't let go of the teddy bear even though it's all dirty :(.

‍‍‍‍‍‍‍

God, if Simon wasn't wearing his mask he was pretty sure he wouldn't have been able to contain his smile, zooming into the picture you'd sent him of your small boy lying in your bed fast asleep cuddling the little plushie he'd gifted him.

‍‍‍‍‍‍‍

— More.

‍‍‍‍‍‍‍

He hoped you understood what you meant by that, and by the way a few more pictures loaded in within seconds, he was glad you did.

He had to print some of those.

He'd once made a joke about one of the soldiers who wore a picture of their beloved in a small locket to Soap, commenting how it reminded him of the soldiers in WWI, when they were really just on their way to disarm a bomb.

But now he felt the need to have some type picture of you both or trinket that you'd given him right in the pocket over his heart, one that he could easily pull out in the middle of a mission to remind himself of why he was doing this, of why he couldn't let himself get caught by the enemy, of why he always had to come back to you.

He couldn't even bear the thought of his dog tags arriving at your doorstep instead of him one fateful day.

"Your nephew?"

Ghost snapped his head up, meeting the curious gaze of his captain and the bright orange tip of his cigar. "What?"

"Your nephew." Price gestured towards his lieutenant's phone, where the picture of Tommy drooling around one of his toys was still displayed. "You told me about him once at that bar in Vienna. What's his name?"

"Joseph." Ghost answered, shaking his head. "No, he's… Not a baby anymore. Must be a bloody teenager by now."

Price hummed, taking another puff from his cigar before looking away, squinting his eyes from the sun, wishing he'd been as smart as Ghost by bringing a pair of sunglasses.

"So."

"So?"

"Who's he, then?" Once again, the captain looked down at the dimly lit picture, where he could barely make out the features of the little boy, but by the onesie and plushie, he was able to decipher the not so difficult puzzle.

"He's…" Ghost trailed off, taking one last look at the picture before turning off his phone, sliding it into one of his pockets and crossing his arms over his chest. "No-one."

"No-one?" Price huffed out, amused. "So you just have pictures of random babies on your phone, is that it, Lieutenant?"

Ghost flared up at his captain, the frown obscured by the sunglasses he'd put on after the clouds had dispersed, but by the way his body had tensed, Price could only assume he'd pissed him off.

"Name's Tommy. That's all you're getting." He grunted out, looking away from the older man like a child admitting to something embarrassing.

"Like your brother?" Price commented, letting out a groan before sitting down on the wall next to Ghost. "Isn't that a coincidence?"

"No, she didn' know when she named-" Ghost stopped himself from saying anything further, the slip of the tongue already having revealed the existence of a 'she', and he did not want to say any more.

"'She'?" Price grinned, blowing out some of the smoke before bringing his cigar up to his lips. "Come on, Simon. We're not on duty, are we? Not your captain right now."

He'd promised himself to keep quiet. He couldn't have anyone find out about you or Tommy, he couldn't risk having that information out in the open, his weakness out there for everyone to know.

But Price… Well, Price was different. He'd saved him multiple times across the span of time he'd spent working for the army, he'd been the one to pull him out of the deepest of holes, the one to trust him enough to allow him to join the 141.

They trusted each other.

"She's… I don't know." He let his head cock back, looking up at the forming clouds. "I knocked her up."

"Fuckin' hell, Simon." Price breathed out along with some smoke, turning to look at him with a sort of horrified and disappointed stare. "You're a dad?"

"Yeah."

"Christ, you're makin' me feel fucking old." He grumbled, taking the phone from Ghost as he handed it over, squinting at the dimly lit screen. "Cute little bugger, isn't he?"

Ghost smiled beneath his mask, watching Price scroll through the countless pictures you'd sent him across the month he'd been back, resisting the embarrassing urge to point out small details of every picture like an art major in a museum, instead keeping quiet and itching slowly to grab his phone back.

"Think you're a good dad?" Price asked, taking Ghost back a bit as he slid his phone back into the confines of his pocket, shrugging his shoulders as he squinted at two figures in the distance.

"Not the worst. Don't think he's got the mental capability to recognise if I'm good or bad to 'im. Least he doesn't cry every time he sees me." He breathed out a chuckle, snapping his mouth shut as he saw Soap and Gaz approach, the conversation sizzling away as they plopped down next to them both.

As the others started talking about another topic, Ghost thought about the question he'd been asked before more in-depth.

He wasn't a bad father, right?

He wasn't like… that.

Simon would be caught dead before even thinking of inflicting onto Tommy the same pain his own father had inflicted onto his family.

Imagining his small boy going through the same trauma, the same horror, the same fear he'd felt during his childhood was enough to tear his cold heart apart.

And he'd never treat you like his father had treated his mother, he'd never subdue you to the same pain she went through every day, he wouldn't let himself fall into the circle of abuse that had started way before his own father.

And Simon wasn't perfect. He knew that.

But he wouldn't stoop as low as his father had during the beginning of his life, where instead of the love and care a child was supposed to receive from his parents, he received the abuse and pain that no one deserved.

Just like him.

He closed his eyes as he remembered the burning shouts as his father berated him, always comparing the both of them and forcing Simon into tears, the mere thought of ending up as horrible as his father reducing him to sobs.

Even now, he still felt sick when he'd stare at the pictures of his father his mother still kept around her room in the nursing home, horrified whenever she'd point out their similar eyes and same blond hair.

But he wouldn't end like that. Despite whatever physical similarity he shared with his father, they had nothing in common personality wise.

Simon wasn't a monster.

He wouldn't hurt you or Tommy.

He wouldn't let anyone hurt you or Tommy.

He was a protector, a soldier trained to serve his country and the civilians who resided within it.

And he would protect. No matter what.

"S'alright, lovie… Jus' me."

"Simon…" You breathed out, letting your eyes flutter closed as his hands roamed the exposed skin of your chest, broken lips pressing kisses the whole way up to your jaw.

"That's it… Such a good girl f'me… Pretty, pretty girl." His warm hands cupped at your chest, pulling another whine out of you as he toyed with your breasts. "My good girl, right?"

"Mhm…" You mumbled, letting your head loll back onto Simon's shoulder and look up at him through tear covered eyelashes, your brain not functioning properly to process the blurred mass of what you assumed was a man's face staring down at you with those beautiful eyes, his breath hitting your lips as he leaned down to press the kiss you'd been longing for for so goddamn long—

Your body jolted awake, an uncomfortable ache between your legs quickly making itself known as you tossed around in your messy bed, brows furrowed as your brain tried to catch up with your suddenly awakened body.

What had you even been dreaming about?

You rubbed at your eyes with your wrists, digging them deep enough so you saw a few blinding colours, letting go and resorting to staring up at the ceiling.

You didn't even bother checking your phone, already knowing that the only notifications you would have received in the few hours you'd spent asleep were the ones from the dating apps you still didn't have the energy to delete.

None from Simon, of course. He'd been gone for over two weeks by now, which wasn't surprising, since he had let you know that this mission would be a long one and had warned you in advance.

Considering the last mission he'd gone on was almost a month ago (and had only lasted a few days, you think he finished as soon as he could to be back with Tommy, by the way he'd barreled through the house to get to the nursery) and that you and Tommy had gotten him all to yourself for about two weeks straight, you'd expected him to be called sooner or later.

You weren't really looking forward to him coming back, since you'd have to break the news to him that he'd missed Tommy's first attempts to sit up without support and the success that came after.

Luckily, you'd filmed most of it, although you did end up throwing the phone on the sofa to congratulate your son personally, pressing kisses to his chubby rolls and listening to him giggle before accidentally helping him fall back onto your bed, causing him to burst out crying.

Okay, well, maybe you could just edit the final part out.

You were pulling the covers over yourself, snuggling back into the warmth of your mattress before attempting to close your eyes and fall back asleep (hopefully to return to whatever dream you'd been having before), when the sound of the creek of your floorboards snapped you out of it.

Your heart stopped, listening out for any further sounds, breath hitching in your throat as what you feared you'd heard continued, recognising the footsteps going from the living room into the kitchen.

You leaned over to your phone, hoping to God that Simon had finished the mission early and had sent you a quick message telling you he'd be coming back soon, but as you unlocked the phone…

Nothing.

So whoever was walking around your house was not Simon.

You heard muffled whispers, too quiet for you to understand but loud enough to send a cold shiver down your spine.

It terrified you. That cemented the fact that there was actually someone in your home, walking around like it was nothing.

But there was more than one voice. Two. Or was it more?

You assumed the sound that had woken you up had been the door opening, which inflicted even more fear into you at the thought that they must have had a key instead of knocking your door down since the sound hadn't been enough to stick with you after pulling you awake.

Your eyes instinctively darted over to the bedside table, where Simon's gun still laid untouched every since he'd "gifted" it to you, staying frozen until one pair of feet got a bit too close to your door, mind racing and adrenaline pumping through your veins as you scrambled to open the drawer as quietly as possible and pull out the gun and mag with shaky hands, carefully pushing it in before cocking it, hissing at the loud sound it made.

You stepped out of bed, body shaking as you neared the door with the heavy gun in your hand, listening out carefully for what they could be saying.

"—ce gaf. Didn' expect this from ya."

"You're a classy one aren't — your sofa?"

The voices were broken and muffled, leaving your brain to try its best to complete them.

God, this was terrifying. You could feel your whole body shaking, waiting for the moment where it could give out.

It's okay. Deep breaths.

You can do this.

The doorknob rattled, the moment it twisted seemingly happening in slow motion, your heart skipping a beat before you raised your gun up to the attacker, finger grabbing at the trigger just in case they made a dangerous move on you, your frantic eyes meeting the surprised ones of the man you were currently pointing a gun at (which you'd never used before, mind you).

"Steamin' fuckin'-"

You didn't even have time to react before his arm instinctively raised towards you, hand grasping at your throat in an instant, like the only thing he'd been taught to do was to kill.

"What the fuck are you doing!?"

You heard a familiar voice roar as the hand tightened around your throat, the gun now abandoned at your feet as your hands scratched and tugged at your attacker's hand.

The last thing you saw before your eyes clouded over was the large shadow coming up from behind your assailant, their face one that despite the tears that blurred your vision you could tell was ready to rip apart someone.

You didn't even have time to think if it was going to be you or his partner.

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#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x fem reader #ghost x female reader #cod mwii #call of duty #ghost x you #ghost fanfiction #ghost x fem!reader #ghost fic #cod mwii x reader #ghost ansgt #ghost fluff #simon riley fluff #cw pregnancy #— ménage

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kairiscorner · 1 year

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hi! i saw fic requests were open but you absolutely don’t have to do this one if you’d don’t like it. i mainly wanted to get this idea out of my head so hope you at least enjoy reading it!

Maybe E-42!Miles meeting their future s/o through his Uncle Aaron? Aaron’s been complaining about his car for some time but neither he nor Miles have been able to look into the issue since they’ve been busy with Prowler stuff. One day Aaron suddenly stops complaining about his car and even looks happy about it. When Aaron brings Miles to a new auto shop he found, the intern mechanic had to try to fix Aaron’s car since everyone else was busy and turns out the girl is a natural at fixing cars. She ended up saving Aaron a good chunk of money and Miles even realizes this new mechanic is a real quiet girl from his classes that he didn’t notice since the girl tended to blend into the background.

HELLOOOOO I LOVE THAT THOUGH WHAT !! i'm not exactly a miles 42 simp, BUT I WILL GLADLY WRITE THIS YEEEEE (i'm craving to write more for him ngl, maybe i will !!)

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

she's really something else — miles 42 x fem!reader

summary: you were extremely cool, being able to fix his uncle's car's issue in a flash while also being super cute in his eyes–man, you make him forget all the lessons his uncle gave him about impressing girls, you make him feel so... foolish and in love. word count: 511

miles was sitting down on a chair by the mechanic's garage, waiting for the repair person to get there. his uncle aaron had been complaining about his car's condition for quite some time now, and just recently did he start lightening up about it, after he found out about a mechanic nearby that didn't charge too much.

not long after, a girl in the mechanic's uniform came in with tools and dirty gloves and a pair of goggles on her head. she immediately got to work on uncle aaron's car. "tio, this girl's the mechanic you found?" he asked his uncle and looked at him quizzically, to which the latter responded with a nod. "a natural, ain't she?" he asked miles with a grin as miles nodded back. "i mean, she's getting the job of two people done way faster." he pointed out as the girl came out from underneath the car in an instant.

uncle aaron and miles went over to her as she explained what issues she saw with the car and what might need to be fixed next time. miles caught himself staring at her and only realized he was when he thought to himself how familiar this girl seemed, but she also didn't seem like an acquaintance of his. he had to admit, though, she was a real cutie–a smart, talented, quick to work cutie.

his uncle aaron glanced at miles and nudged at his arm. "y'know her? your eyes are saying so." he teased miles as he shook his head and shrugged. "i know i've seen her before at school, never talked to her though." he said briefly as his uncle called her over. miles' eyes widened as she turned around and made eye contact with the two. "this is my nephew, miles, miles morales. he attends brooklyn visions academy, too–your boss said you're from there, yeah?" he asked her as she nodded and got a good look at miles.

"yeah, i know you." she said briefly with a crooked smile which miles reciprocated with his own widening one. he tried to play it cool though, as his uncle aaron always taught him, but it was so hard to do when miles was face to face with such a cool and cute girl. "i'll be right back, gotta talk to your boss real quick. miles, keep her company for a little bit." his uncle said as he walked off, with miles stuttering and stammering a reply his uncle couldn't hear as he left.

you took off your goggles to get a better look at him, which made miles a little more flustered because your eyes underneath just looked so adorable. you introduced yourself to him, and miles blurted out, "ah, yeah, i remember your name." "you do?" you asked with a hint of curiosity as miles' eyes widened and he tried to calm down again. "y-yeah. i do." he stuttered, which made you smile wider. man, was he a sucker for that smile... no wonder he fell so hard for you and wanted to be yours.

tags !! @k4tsu3 @pixqlsin @zalayni @fiannee @anikaluv @ii01vq @toneystank-3000 @maxoloqy @solecitoszn @luvstarrstruck

#earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x you #earth 42 miles morales x y/n #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales fluff #miles 42 x reader #atsv #atsv fluff #atsv imagines #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse fluff

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deliciousangelfestival · 6 months

Text

The Lady - 2

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Eddie Horniman x Female Reader

Summary: After fifteen years away, a step-daughter returns for her Duke step-father's funeral, only to inherit a staggering 8 million pound debt and strike a risky deal with a criminal underworld figure.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Chap 1, Chap 2, Chap 3 , Chap 4 , Chap 5 , Chap 6 , Chap 7.

Your ongoing support means the world to me! Reblogs are a fantastic way to help spread the word about my work. I'll do my best to reply to all your comments. Thank you for your continued encouragement!

Bucky leaned back in his chair, studying her reaction keenly. "I understand your concerns," he said, his tone surprisingly understanding. "But trust me, this is a business matter. We're not in the business of hurting innocent people."

"If someone died, I'd probably get deported," Bucky added casually, his tone belying the seriousness of his words.

"You're American too?" you blurted out, your voice tinged with disbelief. It was only now, under the stress of the moment, that you noticed Bucky's lack of a British accent.

"Yup. Just like you. So we have something in common," Bucky replied, his smile masking the underlying tension between you.

Leaning back in your chair, you feigned deep contemplation, buying yourself time to process the weight of Bucky's request. "After thinking thoroughly, it's not gonna happen," you finally declared, your words a thinly veiled refusal.

Bucky's easygoing demeanor vanished instantly, replaced by a steely resolve that sent shivers down your spine. Drawing closer, he rested both arms on Rupert's study table, his gaze piercing you unwaveringly.

"Your Grace, because of my friendship with Rupert, I'm giving you this last chance," Bucky declared, his voice low and commanding.

With a swift motion, he produced a business card from his suit pocket and slid it across the table towards you. "I'll be waiting for your call."

As he retreated, you couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding creeping over you. The stakes had never been higher, and you knew that the choices you made in the coming days would shape the course of your future in ways you couldn't yet comprehend.

The weight of the situation pressed down on you like a suffocating blanket as you surveyed the room, your eyes landing on the familiar photos adorning the walls.

Among them, a small picture frame caught your attention, capturing a moment frozen in time: you and Rupert, smiling at a polo game.

Your voice faltered as you addressed the silent figure in the photograph. "Why did you choose me?" you whispered, the weight of the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. "Dad."

Feeling lost and overwhelmed, you pondered your next move. Should you confront your mother, who seemed to have kept secrets hidden all along?

Or seek answers from the twins, who had already distanced themselves from the burden?

After careful consideration, you decided to turn to your childhood friend, Eddie, for guidance. With a sense of determination, you grabbed the car keys and set off for Halstead estate, hoping that Eddie might offer some much-needed clarity in this sea of uncertainty.

As you stepped onto the familiar grounds of Halstead estate, memories of summers past flooded your mind. Despite the initial awkwardness of being left behind by your mother, the warmth of Eddie's family soon enveloped you in a sense of belonging.

The memories of summers spent here flooded back. Your mother left you behind, as the twins didn't want you to join the holiday. So, your mom left you here since Eddie's manor was closer to you.

Initially awkward, but it became enjoyable with Freddie always cracking jokes and Eddie, the adventurous one.

Reminiscing about fishing trips, horseback riding, and clay shooting, you couldn't help but smile at the fond memories made in this idyllic setting.

Suddenly, a familiar voice broke through your reverie, and you turned to see Freddie, Eddie's brother, approaching with open arms. Despite the passage of time, Freddie seemed unchanged, his jovial spirit shining through.

"Y/N! Come here. Give me a hug."

You embraced him. It had been 15 years, and he seemed different, almost radiant.

Freddie said, "I'm sorry about Rupert. I lost my dad last year too."

You replied, "I'm sorry too."

"So, it's obvious you're not here for me. You want to see Eddie?" Freddie asked.

"I am," you confirmed.

"He just finished a conversation with a guest. Let me take you there," Freddie offered, leading the way.

When you walked into the study room, you heard an elegant female voice saying, "I'll give the info later."

As she walked out, you noticed her stylish demeanor and sensed a mysterious aura around her. There was a hint of leadership in her presence, but what struck you as odd was the faint smell of weed lingering in the air.

She smiled at you before departing.

"I didn't expect you to come here so soon," Eddie remarked with a smile as you turned to face him. Seated in a leather chair, he exuded the air of a true duke.

"I didn't know where else I could go," you replied.

Freddie cleared his throat. "I'll leave you two alone."

Eddie offered you a seat and poured a drink, which you gratefully accepted.

"I heard you got the title. Congrats," Eddie said, raising his glass in a toast.

You chuckled softly. "The title is useless when all I've got is debt."

Eddie fell silent for a moment. "I went through a similar situation myself. What kind of problem are you having right now?"

"Do you know Bucky Barnes?" you asked.

Eddie clicked his tongue in response.

Crossing your arms, you continued, "So you know him. That means you knew about my stepdad's weed business."

Eddie leaned back in his chair, thoughtfully swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "Rupert got into the business earlier than me," he began, his tone reflecting a mix of resignation and regret. "The woman you saw before is Susie Glass."

"He had a business with her," Eddie continued, his voice tinged with disapproval.

You clenched your jaw, the realization sinking in.

"I didn't know much about the details, but your father was on the list that worked with the Glass," Eddie explained, his expression troubled.

"He wanted out," you interjected, your voice firm with determination.

Eddie nodded grimly. "And that's where Barnes came in. He's a syndicate, setting up a branch in the UK from New York. His business was unique and deadly."

The dimly lit study seemed to take on a more sinister atmosphere as Eddie spoke, shadows dancing across the walls like flickering flames. The air was tense, each word carrying the weight of unspoken truths and hidden dangers.

"Rupert owes Barnes 8 million pounds," you stated, the gravity of the situation sinking in.

Eddie hesitated for a moment before responding, his expression thoughtful. "That's..."

"I know, it's insane," you interjected, your voice tinged with frustration.

Eddie met your gaze, his eyes reflecting a mix of sympathy and determination. "I could pay off your debt," he offered quietly.

You recoiled slightly, taken aback by his proposal. "Then what? I'll still in debt. It never ends," you countered, a note of bitterness creeping into your voice.

You sighed, the weight of Rupert's decision heavy on your shoulders. "Why did Rupert choose me?"

Eddie nodded in understanding, his expression reflective. "I asked the same thing when my dad chose me instead of Freddie."

Your brow furrowed in confusion as you looked at him, prompting Eddie to chuckle softly. "Problem solver," he explained simply.

You nodded slowly, considering Eddie's words. "Both of us did join the military. Is it because we went through difficult situations?"

Eddie leaned forward, his gaze unwavering as he locked eyes with you. "Probably," he agreed, a reassuring smile playing on his lips. "But I'm sure you could handle it. If not, I'll be here to help you."

A warmth spread through you at his words, and you felt a slight blush creeping up your cheeks. "Thank you," you murmured gratefully, appreciating his caring demeanor.

You nodded firmly. "I've got all I need. I'll go now," you declared, trying to maintain composure as you turned to leave.

Eddie nodded in response. "Sure. I'll see you next time," he replied, his tone gentle and understanding.

As you walked away, you couldn't help but feel a swirl of emotions inside, like a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and feelings. You tried to keep a cool facade, but deep down, your heart was racing.

Meanwhile, Eddie watched you go, a flicker of concern crossing his features. Then, a voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Did she notice?" someone asked quietly.

Eddie glanced over, meeting the gaze of the speaker. "Not yet," he responded softly, his expression thoughtful as he contemplated the situation.

You drove for what felt like an eternity until you finally arrived back at your own manor. As you stepped inside, you noticed Hugo playing in the living room with Susan. Ignoring your mother, your focus was solely on your little step-brother.

You were just ten years old when you first met Rupert, and he had quickly become the best father figure you'd ever known. During the eight years you spent here, you learned to appreciate Rupert's love for his legacy and the history of the manor.

Sighing heavily, you knew you were about to make a risky decision.

Heading to Rupert's study again, you picked up Bucky's business card and dialed the number. After just two rings, his voice filled your ears. "I've been waiting for your call, Your Grace," he said smoothly.

Rolling your eyes at his confidence, you replied, "Just one job and you clear the debt?"

Bucky chuckled, his tone dripping with assurance. "It would be a big explosion. They'll think it's a terrorist attack. But no, Your Grace. Five small explosions, and we're done."

Bucky's voice crackled through the line, his tone both humorous and tinged with an unmistakable edge. "Think of it as fireworks, Your Grace. Except instead of pretty colors, we'll be making a statement."

You couldn't help but let out a nervous laugh, the gravity of the situation juxtaposed with Bucky's nonchalant demeanor. "And what kind of statement would that be?" you asked, trying to match his casual tone.

"The kind that says, 'Don't mess with us,'" Bucky replied, his voice dripping with a dangerous charm. "We'll leave 'em scratching their heads and scrambling for cover."

Despite the seriousness of the conversation, you couldn't deny the thrill of adrenaline coursing through your veins. "And you're sure this will work?" you inquired, a hint of skepticism creeping into your voice.

Bucky's confidence was unwavering. "Trust me, Your Grace. When it comes to making a scene, I'm the best in the business."

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Author Note: Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.

Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

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slvttyharlow · 1 year

Text

Missing Anniversary.

Featuring. Jack Harlow x Fem! Wife! Reader.

Anonymous Request. Can you write a jack fic where he misses an important date like anniversary or something so a little angsty that turns into fluff.

Summary. Jack misses an anniversary and you’re upset.

General Tags. Angst and Fluff.

Content Warnings. Crying that's it.

Word Count. 809.

Notes. Anon, I hope I did your request justice, I'm so nervous, this is my first fic that's out on this acc and I really wish I did good, please go easy on me. If you'd like to be tagged when future works are out, you can fill out that taglist form.

Extra. Requests are open, please read my rules beforehand! / Comments, likes, and reblogs are highly appreciated but not pressured.

Starred Links. Navigation + Masterlist + Prompts + Taglist

When Jack came home, you were sitting on the couch strolling through your Instagram not even throwing a glance his way. He walks in and smiles when he sees you. “Hey babe, it was a good day at the studio, got a lot done but I missed you though.” He said with a huge smile on his face as he walked up to you going to kiss your lips but you moved your head slightly so that his lips met your cheek.

“What was that?” He questioned but you just ignored him and kept scrolling through your phone. You were pissed and you had every right to be, today was your wedding anniversary and you thought to make it special by cooking his favorite food and setting up his favorite lingerie that he could take off of you later but he forgot. You tried giving him the benefit of the doubt like maybe his phone stopped working but he texted you earlier asking you to send a picture of the cologne he regularly used.

You knew he would be busy with his album, and you were fine with that, you supported him every step of the way but you never expected him to forget an important day like this, you treasured this day so much, the day you married your high school sweetheart so him forgetting made you feel hurt, you’d have been happy if he just sent a text, it was the thought that count.

“So you not gon tell me why you’re acting weird?” Jack was getting quite annoyed at being ignored especially when he came home early to be with you since he missed you throughout the day, you were the only thing on his mind when he was at the studio so for you to be acting this way towards him was crazy. You simply rolled your eyes and got up and walked past him, bumping his shoulder as you walked to the dining table and picked up the plates of food that were now cold, and made your way to the kitchen to wrap them with saran wrap.

Jack wondered what he could’ve done to make you this mad at him but he came up empty. What he did know was he wasn’t going to let you go to bed angry. “Babe, please tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it,” he spoke softly as he walked into the kitchen, watching you put the food in the fridge. You ignored him again and were about to make your way to the bedroom but Jack immediately got in front of you, stopping you from taking another step. “Nuh-uh, you know we don’t do silent treatment and no going to sleep angry at each other,” he says as he looks down at you.

“Jackman move out of my way,” you said as you got annoyed with him being in your presence, not wanting to look into his eyes knowing if you do, you would give in like you always did. Jack was surprised by the use of his first name since you always called him ‘babe’ or ‘baby’. “Not until you tell me what's going on.”

“Do you know what today is? Why don’t you check the date!” You yelled as you stepped back putting some distance between you and him. You watched him pull out his phone with a quizzical look on his face and when he sees the date, you turn your back towards him not wanting to make eye contact since you might start crying at any moment. “Baby… I’m so sorry, I thought it was tomorrow, I swear I have everything planned,” you stayed silent and he came closer, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to him and that’s all it took for the tears to roll down your cheeks and he started rocking you back and forth.

“You know I love you right?” He says soothingly as he starts tracing shapes on your stomach, you nod your head silently and lean more into his touch. “I promise you, I thought the 25th was tomorrow and had everything ready for us to celebrate,”

“It wouldn’t hurt you to start checking your calendar on your phone,” your response makes him chuckle. “Yes, I’ll be more up to date from now on, can we start over our anniversary for tomorrow, trust me you gon love what I have planned.”

You turn around in his arms and look into his blue eyes. “Yes we can, I’m sorry I was mean to you,” he shakes his head. “Don’t apologize, I deserved it, I love you,” he rubs your arm a bit. “I love you too, babe,” he connects his lips with yours, holding you close to him not letting you go, come tomorrow he will make it all up to you.

#🎤 𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩? ╱ 𝙟𝙖𝙘𝙠.#jack harlow #jack harlow angst #jack harlow blurb #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow one shot #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow x you #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow story

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eldragon-x · 8 months

Text

🐊 krook 🔁 krook

🐊 krook

I don't remember following this Pokemon, they keep posting mushy inspirational screenshots and quotes

🐊 krook

they were previously rottenworld? I see how it is. another idiot falling into the trap of telling yourself everything will be fine and the world is worthwile. im so sick of this. soon you will all see the ugly truth

2 Notes 💬🔁🤍

🍎 guildmaster-wigglytuff 🔁 kingofdarkness

🌑 kingofdarkness

Another successful day of working in Team Teal! ^_^ Funfact: I learned today that the team name was inspired by the color of the glow of the Time Gears ⚙️ My team mates were hesitant to tell me more about it though.

🍎 guildmaster-wigglytuff

That's great, Darkrai! TOOM-YAH!

5 Notes 💬🔁❤️

#guild associates #motivation #funfacts

🍃 paradise-virizion 🔁 lopunnycharm

💗 lopunnycharm

Reblog this if you support trapping Pokemon in ruins! ✨

2.575 Notes 💬🔁🤍

🤡 paradise-emolga 🔁 lake-guardian

⚙️ lake-guardian Follow

Pokemon are upset at me for including Team Charm on the list of explorers with issues. I'm sorry but you can't brush off their actions as "girlbossing". I promise you there are other admirable female dungeon treaders you can support, like Octillery or Virizion.

1.933 Notes 💬🔁🤍

#wait I need to do something funny

🍃 paradise-virizion

Having a moment, but I don't think I could ever express enough how much joining an adventure team has helped me. I was at a real lowpoint when I became a part of Team Scales and would reject everyone around me but thanks to them, I learned to open up and trust in other Pokemon again.

7 Notes 💬🔁❤️

#delete later

🌈 chasingafterhope

Sorry for my recent inactivity, I've been busy getting in touch with some old friends and moving to Air Continent. I don't know if I'm ever gonna start posting regularly again, might abandon this blog altogether, but I'm glad Pokemon appreciate it. Have a nice day!

360 Notes 💬🔁❤️

#personal #madoka tag

🪦 dustnoir 🔁 forest-clock

🏅 expedition-society-official Follow

its been really dire lately if i'm honest. legendary pokemon all over the world are turning to stone and we still have no idea who could be behind it and im very worried for the kids here. i dont know why ampharos thought it would be a good idea to let them join i just feel like everythings getting worse

🏅 expedition-society-official Follow

wrong blog

🌺 forest-clock Follow

Time traveller here! It will pass but you have to make it through The Voidlands first 👍

485 Notes 💬🔁❤️

#predictions #future posting #dark matter incident #friend tag #reblog #expedition-society-official

#unreality #long post #pmd on tumblr #pmd #pokemon mystery dungeon

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fabled-lady-twilla · 5 months

Text

Hi, I'm Twilla and I'm currently in the process of writing a ShigaDeku Dystopia/Soulmate AU fic that no one, and I mean literally NO ONE, asked for! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Why do I always join fandoms late and why do I always somehow end up loving/shipping the rarepairs in fandoms that barely anyone likes or wants to read about lmao? 🥺👉👈

I just finished reading the latest manga chapter, watched all six seasons, and binged all three movies. I am absolutely BURSTING with ideas of where I want this story to go. I want to at least post the first chapter by the time ShigaDeku Week 2024 is here next month. :)

In my fic timeline, the MHA canon story line doesn't happen until Class 1-A's third year, and since my story is set six years after their graduation, most of the main characters are in their mid to late twenties. My story starts after the Quirk Affliction, a strange illness that begins killing off Quirk-users all around to world, resulting in a massive a death toll that causes civilized society to collapse.

Anyways, here's the general synopsis:

The Final War was over before it had even begun. With the onset of the Quirk Affliction, a mysterious illness that disproportionately targeted the Quirks of heroes over the Quirks of villains, the world was left defenseless as it plunged into a new era of chaos and devastation.

It’s been six years since the onset of the Affliction and the death of All Might. Six years since the world’s heroes, and the society they desperately fought to protect, have crumbled into dust in Shigaraki Tomura’s hands.

From the ashes of this destruction, Japan’s new regime was born. The country was split into three territories, each with its own Grand Commander, united in nothing save for one singular rule: life for those who submit, and death for those who do not.

As Grand Commander of the largest and most plentiful of Japan’s territories, Shigaraki has lived the last six years reaping the fruits of his labors and taking pride in helping his Sensei accomplish his dream. But as of late, Tomura has been having strange dreams of his own: hazy memories of an abandoned park, of blooming wisteria trees, of laughter and freckles and forest green eyes.

Midoriya Izuku, now Quirkless due to the Affliction, has not stopped his pursuit of helping others, despite the world — and everything in it — turning itself upside down. Izuku dreams of a brighter future, and strangely enough, dreams of his long-lost childhood friend, Shimura Tenko.

The same Tenko that Izuku had unknowingly befriended as a young boy. The same Tenko who’d stopped him from jumping off the rooftop all those years ago. The same Tenko that, Izuku realized with horror, was now the monster known as Shigaraki Tomura.

Unfortunately, Izuku learns all too late that having a Soulbond with the King of Villains comes with a heavy cost. Shigaraki seems hell-bent on keeping Izuku as close to him as possible, believing Izuku to be his Soulmate, and thus, Shigaraki’s only true weakness, stirring up an ill-fated romance that neither has prepared themselves for.

As a new calamity encroaches upon them in the form of a mad man attempting to become a god, the heroes and villains must find a way to work together and solve the mystery of the Affliction before it destroys the world and everything they hold dear.

✨ P l e a s e ✨ let me know if you're interested in hearing about this by either, liking, reblogging, or sending me a PM. I'm working really hard to get the first chapter of this out by ShigaDeku Week 2024 in May!

Thank you so much for reading. 💚💚💚

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wordsaresimple-imnot · 5 months

Text

Pen pal's - Bill Guarnere x F!Reader

Summary: Bill's childhood friend and neighbor writes him a letter after Henry is killed. They keep writing each other throughout the war, but following the events after Bastogne Bill sends a final letter that might end their future before it can really start.

Warnings: she/her pronouns, reader goes by childhood nickname, angst (mentions of war & healing from injuries), does have happy ending.

A/N: I have the biggest respect for the real life heroes of WWII (and all other wars, past & current), this work & all other works is based on the actor(s) and character(s) portrayed in the Band of Brothers series.

A/N pt 2: Full transparency, this one sorta got away from me but I let my creative muse take over and here we are. I was sitting on this idea for a minute and honestly, I love how it turned out. Hopefully y'all like it too! Comments, likes, and reblogs please!! Thank you!

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

It was two weeks after Henry passed when a letter arrived for Bill. He didn't recognize the handwriting, but he knew the return address by heart. It was the house right next door to his childhood home. His suspicions of who it was from was confirmed once he started reading it.

Billy, I've spent the last week trying to figure out something comforting and eloquent to say but all I can come up with is; I'm so sorry about Henry. I can't imagine how you feel. I can't do much to make you feel better over there but I promise to help your mom and sisters with anything they need. You all have been a second family to me my whole life. I pray you stay safe and come home soon. Pip. P.S. I found this picture in one of my old journals and it made me smile. I hope it can do the same for you.

Bill flipped over the photograph that had been included and did, in fact, smile. It was three young kids laughing at the camera, completely covered in mud. He was pulled from the memory of that day when a hand grabbed the picture away from him.

"Henry, Billy, and me." Luz read the back of the picture out loud before flipping it around. "Who's the girl?"

"None of your business." Bill grabbed the picture back and stuffed it in his breast pocket, sending Luz a glare.

Not being fazed at all, Luz leaned over and skimmed at the letter Bill was still holding. "Billy? Who's Pip? Same girl from the picture?"

"Who made you the new Nixon around here? Fuck off, will ya."

"What's got Gonorrhea's in a twist?" Toye asked as he joined the two of them.

"Got some letter and picture from a girl." Luz wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"What, girl's not your type anymore?" Toye smirked at Bill.

"Both of you's, shut the fuck up. It's a neighbor I grew up with. She's like family."

"She cute?" Toye asked at the same time Luz said, "Is she single?"

"She's nothing to you two's or I'll break your jaws." With a final glare Bill folded up his letter and walked away. Toye and Luz smirked at each other, knowing this wouldn't be the last time they pissed him off about this mystery girl.

Pip dropped the remaining pieces of mail on the ground and rushed to her room, eager to read the letter addressed to her in messy handwriting. She knew she was smiling like an idiot as she read it, but she didn't care.

Pip, I appreciate you reaching out and taking care of ma and the girls for me. I couldn't ask for anyone better to watch over them. You're picture did make me smile, something I haven't done much of lately. I can still hear our ma's chewing us out over ruining your dress. Said Henry and I were keeping you from being a 'proper lady'. And if I remember correctly your response was you'd be one "when pigs fly". Thanks for reminding me of happy times. Don't be a stranger. Billy.

Two weeks later, another letter arrived.

Pip, I saw a field with some horses in it today and I thought of you. How you always wanted to live just outside the city with some land to have a horse and lots of dogs. I hope you get to have that one day. Maybe I'll come by and visit when you do. Billy

The next day as Pip made to leave the house to drop her response off at the post office, she ran into her mother.

"Where you off to in such a hurry?" The gleam in her eye and glance down at the letter in Pip's hand made it obvious she already knew the answer. Pip decide to play along since she was an only child and her mother needed to fuss over someone now and again.

"Just sending a letter back to Bill." She'd stopped calling him Billy out loud to people, but that's who he'd always be to her.

"Yes, I saw he'd send another letter. His poor mother doesn't even get back to back responses that quick. Lucky girl." She mused, smiling at the blush forming on Pip's cheeks.

"It's not like that, we're just old friends."

"Of course. Well, check with his mother and see if they have any mail to send out along with yours." Pip nodded, gave her mother a kiss on the cheek and practically sprinted out the houses before any more questions or observations could be made.

Bill couldn't figure out why he was so anxious after sending that second letter to Pip. She was just his neighbor, a life long family friend, like a sister... Well, not entirely like a sister. Henry always saw her like a sister, taking her under his wing and becoming the big brother she didn't have. His sisters saw her as an older sister, someone to play dress-up with and get boy advise from. But him...he'd never really seen her as that. She was family, absolutely. But not his sister.

When her response came, he wasn't sure if his anxiety got worse or better as he ripped it open.

Billy, I would have loved to have seen that field (although, maybe not during war time). I'm surprised you remember that, I think we were seven or eight when I came up with that idea. I never told you but I always imagined you'd live right next door to me and we'd see each other everyday, like we always did before this war. No matter where I end up, I'd still like you to visit. Pip

"Another letter from your 'family friend'?" Toye jumped down into the foxhole next to Bill.

"Why you sayin' it like that? She is a family friend. And what do you care who I get letters from?" Bill grumbled, folding his letter up and stuffing it inside his jacket.

"Luz said her name was, Pip. What's that about?" Toye asked, completely ignoring Bill's grumpy mood and response.

Bill gives a loud sigh, knowing that Toye isn't going to drop it and by extension neither will Luz until they've discovered everything to do with her.

"It's a nickname. Short for Pipsqueak. She was always this tiny little following me and Henry around back home."

"Sounds annoying." Toye says offhandedly, looking at his companion out the side of his eye. He see's a small smile form on Bill's face.

"At first, I guess. But honestly, it became so normal I never really thought about not including her in things." There's a long stretch of silence as they keep watch, then Bill speaks again. "She's family, but she's not my sister. Never has been. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah, it does." Toye lights up a cigarette, passing one over to Bill. "Should tell her that someday." Bill doesn't respond, just lights up the cigarette and pulls a long drag from it.

The weeks and months that follow are filled with countless letters sent back and forth. There's no declarations of love or detailed accounts of the war, just two people sharing memories or tidbits about their days.

Pip would fill in the blanks about what was going on with his sister's love lives; who was a bum, who seemed nice, who looked weird. Once she gave him the play by play, as she could remember it, of a dinner at his house with the whole family, her, her mother, and a new beau his sister Marie was dating. His name was Paul, but said to call him Paulie. Pip and his two younger sisters, Bianca and Isabella, were on the verge of giggles all night because his voice sounded so much like a parrot and they wanted to ask him if he wanted a cracker. Then there was the shameful cooking lesson their mom's tried to have with Pip, that resulted in five burned pies.

Bill would tell her about the country side they'd go through and different animals he would encounter. He'd also tell her about the guys and stupid shenanigans they'd get up to. How getting shot in the ass started to become an Easy Company right of passage. When he meets Babe, he tells her about another Philly kid that grew up not far from them and how he's alright. He tells her about a game of darts he played with Babe as his partner, against a George Luz and Buck Compton, saying how they lost but he knows if she'd been his partner they would have won because they always make a great team.

They share memories from their childhood, some including Henry some with just the two of them. When she comes across them, Pip sends old pictures of them for him to have. One he becomes especially fond of is them at 16; they're at the local fair, he's holding a huge teddy bear he's just won above his head with one arm, the other is thrown over Pip's shoulder and she's got her arms wrapped around Isabella's shoulders as the younger girl is standing in front of her. They're all smiling, but only Bill and Isabella are looking at the camera. Pip is looking straight at Bill.

He got a lot of ribbing and questions from the guys when that picture came, but he just told them all to 'fuck off'. By this point it was common knowledge that Bill did, but didn't, have a girl back home. The guys loved to annoy him but truly they were happy he had someone, not all of them did.

Slowly, almost naturally, the letter's started becoming more intimate. Not sexually but emotionally. Greetings went from Dear, to Dearest, then Darling, eventually landing on "My Billy/Pip". Signatures would mix some type of variation of "Love, your Billy/Pip" and "Always yours, Billy/Pip". There still hadn't been any type of declaration of feelings, but they'd often write each other about the future and things they wanted to do or see together. They were always together no matter the plan or idea that popped in their heads about life after this war.

Then one day, in a forest in the dead of winter, everything changed.

It had been months since Bill and Toye were shipped back to the hospital for their surgeries and rehabilitation before getting to go home. Months since he'd last responded to one of Pip's letters. He knew, she knew what had happened as he'd written his ma letting her know he was okay after a telegram went out about his injury from the army. He couldn't stand the idea of her being worried sick about him, not after what happened with Henry.

Pip never mentioned the accident, just kept her letters light and full of the day to day happenings. But they always ended the same way, "P.S. Take your time, I'm here when you are ready and I'll always be yours." Each new letter was like a dagger in his heart. He loved her, so much so that he was planning to ask her to marry him when he thought he'd be going home a whole man. But now, how could he ask her to be with him when he wasn't all she deserved?

One day, he grabbed some paper and a pen and started his own version of a Dear John letter.

Pip was both relieved and terrified when she got a letter from Bill. He hadn't responded since being sent to the hospital to have his injury tended to. When his mother had gotten the telegram, all the army had said was that he was injured and being sent out immediately to their primary hospital. After what happened to Henry, she was in a terrible state so Pip pitched in as much as she could while wanting to breakdown herself. Soon enough a letter from Bill himself came and explained the situation as best he could and what was going on, but ultimately letting his mom and sisters know he was already. They'd all cried together when they read that. She waited weeks but no letter arrived for her. As time went on, she accepted that he needed time to heal and figure things out, so she kept sending him updates on his family and things in town, praying that one of them would trigger some type of response. Now she held one in her hands and she didn't know what it would contain.

Sitting in her room, she opened the letter and with each word felt her heart breaking.

My Pip, I am sorry I have not written. Truthfully, I have not known what to say. I know you must have gotten updates from my ma on my condition and I suppose that was the cowards way of letting you know and again, I am sorry. I didn't think this was how I would be telling you this but, I love you. I'm so damn, madly in love with you it's all I can think about lying here. But I can't keep this going any longer. You deserve someone not scarred, literally and emotionally, from this war and the horrors that have leaked inside me. I want you to have everything you've ever dreamed about. I just can't be the one to give it to you. I will love you till my last breathe. Love you always, Billy

With her letter crumpled in her hands, Pip curled up into her bed and cried until there was nothing left to come out.

Bill knew he should feel lucky. Hell, he was the luckiest damn bastard he knew of right now. He was finally home after being away for years, seeing the worst of human nature, eating a home cooked meal surrounded by his mother and sisters that he'd missed terribly. But there was still a large aching hole in his heart the shape of the girl next door. He'd been home for a month and they'd yet to run into each other. He wasn't sure if he could handle seeing her after the letter he'd sent, but that didn't stop him from praying for just one glance.

His sisters had seen her a few times since he'd been home, but every time he asked how she was they just shot him a glare and changed the subject. They obviously knew enough to have picked her side and he couldn't blame them.

"You're awfully quiet tonight, William." His mother's voice brought him back to the present. "Everything okay?" He suddenly felt like a child again under her critical gaze.

"Yeah, I'm good ma." He slapped on a quick smile, which dropped quickly at hearing Bianca and Isabella snort and cough at the end of the table. "What's up with you two?"

"They're tired of you lying. We all are." Marie sent him a cold look.

"I'm not lying about anything." He clenched his jaw to keep his temper in check. These were his sisters, not the boys, he couldn't react like he wanted.

"Yes, you are. Pip is too. You're both miserable. We see it everyday. Just admit you made a mistake and apologize." Marie turned fully to face him and gave him a look that challenged him to deny any of it.

Before he could say anything, his mother cut in. "Girls, go to your rooms. I wanna speak with William. Go on." She gave them her no nonsense look when they didn't move fast enough. With a few grumbles they all left the room and the silence that over took Bill and her was tense.

"Ma, I don't want to talk about it." Bill sighed, leaning back in his chair.

"You don't have to speak, just listen, yeah? You're my child and when you have a child you pray that they find happiness and have all of their dreams come true. It sounds foolish, but that's the truth. Throughout the years, I've always believed that your happiness lie with Pip and when you started writing each other I knew I was right. Every time she would relay some story you wrote her or say "Bill said this, Bill said that" it was like looking in a mirror to when I first fell for your father. Once you've had a great love, you recognize it in other people. Now, looking at both of you all I can see is myself after your father passed. A sorrow that settles in the bones and your soul and never quite goes away. I know you had the best intentions in mind when you did, what you did, but if it's slowly killing you both inside was it really for the best?"

Bill couldn't bring himself to meet her eyes, too afraid he'd completely break down, so he stared at his plate and fiddled with the table clothe. Eventually his mom got up, gave him a kiss on the cheek and left him alone with his thoughts.

Two days later, Pip stood at the back door of the Guarnere house. She'd promised Bianca she'd help her pick a dress for her upcoming dance and after much back and forth, and almost tears, had agreed to come to their house only because Bianca swore Bill would be gone. As she entered the kitchen, she called out to Bianca but didn't receive an answer. She walked further into the house, heading towards the living room still calling out.

"Bianca? Anybody? Hello? I swear if she stood me up, I'm gonna kill her." Just as she finished her though out loud, she stopped dead in her tracks. In the middle of the room stood Bill on his crutches, holding her favorite flowers in one hand. Every time she opened her mouth to say something, she couldn't think of anything and closed it again. Eventually, Bill broke the silence.

"Don't be mad at Bianca, I bribed her to get you over here. I understand if you don't want to hear anything I have to say and walk out, but if you give me a few minutes I swear you'll never have to see me again if that's your wish." Hesitantly, Pip walked into the living room and followed Bill's lead by sitting on the sofa. Slowly she took the flowers from him and laid them in her lap, meeting his eyes.

"I've been practicing what to say all day, but can't seem to remember a damn thing now." He gave a humorless chuckled, clenching and unclenching his hands to steady himself. "What I did, all of it, is unforgivable. I...All I could think about in that hospital was all the things I wouldn't be able to do with you. All the things I might not be able to give you. I believed I was doing what was right, by pushing you away so you could find someone else. But underneath all of that I was scared too. Scared you'd see me now and think less of me. Would always look at me with pity in your eyes and I'd never be that great man you deserve. Now, I'm scared I've lost the only person that matters. Every day since I sent that letter, and especially since being home, it's felt like a wound is festering inside me and I can't fix it. I know I've hurt you, and I'll never forgive myself for that, but if you can just give me a chance to make it right I'll spend forever making it up to you."

Bill would've given her his beating heart if she asked for it. The longer the silence stretched, the more he was sure she would say goodbye. He held his breathe as one of her hands, shakily raised and cupped his cheek. She had tears in her eyes.

"How could I possibly look at you and think less? You've been everything I ever wanted since we were kids. And now everyone knows what I always knew, that you're a hero and a great man. We've had each other backs for forever, I don't think we should stop now. I don't care if we can't do certain things the way we talked about, we will find new ways to do them. All I want, all I've ever wanted, is you by my side. I'll accept your apology under on condition."

"Anything." His answer was immediate.

"Kiss me." The words were barely out when he pulled her closer to him and pressed his lips to her, firmly and with all the passion he had inside him.

Bonus scene: 6 months later

Everyone seemed to be having a good time; drinks were flowing, people were dancing, and in the corner taking a break from mingling, the bride and groom were sipping champagne and sneaking kisses.

"When can we leave?" Bill mutters, nipping her bottom lip quickly.

"I spent all day getting ready, I'm wearing this dress as long as possible." She half joked, taking a sip from her flute.

"I never said you had to take it off." Bill whispers in her ear, smirking at the blush on her cheeks.

"Control yourself and I'll let you take it off, however you want." She shoots him a wink and then grabs her purse, pulling a small box out of it. "Here, I have a gift for you."

Bill raises an eyebrow, taking the box from her. "What is it?"

"Just open it." She smiles at him.

Bill pulls the top off and pulls out a little figurine, laughing instantly. It's a small pig with wings attached. When pigs fly. He looks back and her and cups her cheek.

"I love you, Mrs. Guarnere."

"I love you, Mr. Guarnere."

#bill guarnere #bill guarnere x reader #band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic #hbo war #hbo band of brothers #band of brothers x reader

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sailor-aviator · 1 year

Text

Fool's Fare: Chapter Two

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Captain Jake "Hangman" Seresin had come close to swinging from the gallows more times than he would care to admit. He's stolen, cheated, even killed. The worst thing he's ever done? Broken the heart of a woman. Having broken the heart of the woman whom Davy Jones himself had fallen for six years ago, Jake is now cursed to live as something not dead, but not alive. He's doomed to live a half-life for the rest of his existence unless he manages to obtain the treasure Davy Jones deems most valuable. The problem? He has no idea what it is, and he only had seven years to obtain it.

Trigger Warnings: Crossdressing, Cranky pirates, Jake Seresin. I think that's it?

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: I feel like this is NOT my best work, but I'm not sure if that's because I'm a perfectionist or if it's because it's actually bad. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated. 18+ ONLY!! You can find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator!

Series Masterlist || Moodboards || Playlist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List

You bolted upright in your bed, sheets drenched with sweat as you fought to regain control of your breathing. Your heart hammered away in your ears as the sound of rushing water faded into your memory. You glanced out the window to see the soft pink of the rising sun as it sat just below the horizon. Good, you still had time. You scrambled out of bed, feet carrying you quickly into the front room. Bradley had his foot propped up on the table to lace his boot, a nasty habit your mother had scolded him for countless times when she was still alive.

He glanced up at you with a frown, noticing your disheveled appearance. “Are you alright?”

“You can’t go,” you said flatly, staring at him. Bradley let out a long sigh as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Guppy,” he started, “we’ve talked about this.”

“No, you’ve talked about this. You decided that I wasn’t important enough to be included in the conversation.”

“That isn’t fair,” he grumbled. “I'm doing this for us and our future.”

“You’re doing it because you can’t stand the thought of staying here another minute,” you snapped at him, causing him to shrink back into himself with a grimace. “Bradley, it will kill me to not know whether you’re safe or not.”

“I already told you-”

“Yes, I know what you said,” you groaned, running a hand through your hair. “But, I will spend every waking minute wondering whether or not you’ve been captured or killed. I will be left here to wait for you on that hill like Mother did.”

Bradley said nothing as he stared at you. His lips pressed into a thin line as he walked past you and down the hall to his room. You heard him moving around, opening and closing drawers before he came walking back towards you.

“Here,” he said, shoving the clothes into your open arms. You stared bewilderingly down at them before looking back up at him. He gestured for you to move down the hall. “Go change.”

“What?”

“Go change,” he said again, a bit more bite to his tone. You slowly moved past him and down to your room. You stripped your nightdress off and quickly began to pull on the shirt and pants he had shoved at you. You didn’t even know he still had these things. They were a little big on you, but they would do. You had just finished lacing your boots up when a knock came at the door.

“I’m decent,” you called, and Bradley swung the door open. He stared down at you, nodding with approval at how his clothes fit you. He tossed you a rucksack that you barely caught.

“Pack only what you need.”

“Bradley, what-”

“C’mon, Guppy,” he ordered, rushing around your room to pack what he thought you might need. “We don’t have a lot of time.”

“I don’t understand,” you frowned. Bradley turned to you with an incredulous expression.

“The only way you’re going to let me go,” he said like he was speaking to a child, “is if you come with me. So, you’re coming with me.”

“Women aren’t allowed on ships, Rooster.”

“Which is why you’re dressed in my hand-me-downs right now,” he rolled his eyes. “I’m getting you on that ship as a cabin boy if nothing else. Do you have everything?”

He rushed out of your room with you in tow. “Yes, I think so,” you muttered.

“Good,” he said. “I’ve already left a note for Tom. Now let’s get goin’.”

Bradley opened the front door and walked out without looking back. You moved to join him, but hesitated, resting a hand on the door jamb. You turned to take one last look at your home. It was dark, the morning light not having reached the windows yet, and it felt empty as you stood there.

“Guppy?”

You turned to look at Bradley who had stopped a few feet ahead of you. The two of you stared at one another for a moment before he reached his hand out to you. You took it, closing the door to the little cottage as you allowed him to pull you forward.

The docks were already bustling as Bradley pushed his way through the throng of fishermen, you not far behind him. He carried himself confidently, standing a couple of inches above everyone else, and waving to the familiar faces around him. You, however, did your best to hide your face with the jacket and hat Bradley had handed you. It would do you no good now to get caught trying to sneak onto a pirate ship.

“You’re late.”

You glanced up to see Captain Seresin leaning against a stack of crates, a frown pulling on his lips. A handsome, dark-skinned man watched Bradley stoically.

“Yes,” Bradley said, clearing his throat. “Sorry about that.”

“You’ll do well to remember to be on time from now on,” Jake sniffed, green eyes glancing down to where you hid behind Bradley. “Who’s this?”

“This is my younger brother,” Bradley started, moving to rest a hand on your shoulder and pull you forward for the captain to see. Jake stared at you, face unreadable as he looked you over. You stood up a little straighter, puffing your chest out. Bradley had you bind it before you left to help conceal it beneath the jacket.

“What’s your name?” he asked finally. You balked, eyes darting nervously to Bradley. How had the two of you not thought up a name? It was a careless mistake, and the longer you took to answer, the more you began to panic.

“Pete,” Bradley rushed out. Your eyes widened. “Pete Mitchell.”

“Pete Mitchell?” The dark-skinned man blinked in surprise as Jake’s eyebrows shot up. “As in the sailor who went by the name of Maverick?”

“He was my father,” you said quietly, head hanging. How did these men know your father? It didn’t make sense that these men would know him.

“You hear that, Javy?” Jake laughed. “Didn’t know the great Maverick had a kid.”

“Neither did I,” the dark-skinned man, Javy, frowned. His eyes now held a look of intrigue as they studied you. You shifted, trying to hide yourself behind Bradley as the man continued to stare down at you.

“Could be good to have him on the ship with us,” Jake mused, and Javy snorted.

“Or it could be bad luck.”

“Nonsense!” Jake cried out, grin wide. He turned his attention to you. “You got any experience sailing, lad?”

You gave another glance at Bradley who gave you a small nod of encouragment.

“No, sir,” you admitted. “But, my father taught me as much as he could before he died.”

Jake hummed, casting one last look at Javy. He looked back at you with a smirk.

“The two of you can follow my quarter master, Javy, here to your quarters.”

You moved to follow Bradley as Javy motioned for the two of you to follow him, but Jake grabbed your wrist to stop you. You looked back at him curiously, and he fixed you with a humor-filled smirk.

“Don’t go causin’ any trouble on my ship now, you hear?” He winked. Your face remained stoic, unsure of how to respond. He let go of your wrist and motioned with his head for you to follow the others. As you walked onto the ship, you glanced behind you to see a pair of twinkling green eyes still staring after you.

The thrill of finally setting sail after a lifetime of having to make due with the stories that Bradley and your father told you was unlike anything you could have imagined. The sea crashed against the underside of the ship, and the ocean spray hit your face in a fine mist. You were leaning off the side of the ship, watching as your home faded away in the distance.

“You lean any farther, and you’ll fall in.”

You jumped, nearly falling off the ship in the process. The man grabbed you quickly with a low hum of “easy” before helping you stand up straight. He was handsome, dark blue eyes hidden behind a pair of glasses, and his brown hair was pushed back off of his face.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m Bob.”

“It’s fine,” you breathed, offering him a small smile. “I shouldn’t have been leanin’ over like that. My name is Pete.”

“I heard,” he chuckled. “You’re the talk of the crew. No one knew Maverick had a son.”

“So I’ve heard,” you muttered. Before you could ask him about your father, he clapped a hand on your back, pulling you towards the hull.

“C’mon,” he grinned as the two of you walked. “Let’s go make supper for the crew, cabin boy.”

You followed him down into the dark belly of the ship, moving around crew members as they rested in their bunks. Bob led you into a back room that functioned as the galley. Bob showed you where to find the different tools you would need to prepare different meals for the crew.

“You’ll be expected to help me out with the cooking as the new cabin boy,” he explained as he grabbed ingredients for that night’s meal. You fell into easy conversation with the young man, sharing stories and laughing.

“And then the fish began wriggling, and he hollered so loud, they must have heard it clear across the Atlantic!” Bob laughed as you giggled.

“Reminds me of the time Rooster tried to catch a fish with his bare hands,” you joked, remembering how excited he had been before a rogue wave had taken him by surprise.

Bob turned to you. “What was he like?”

“Who?” you asked, slicing away at the loaf of bread in your hand. “My father?”

Bob nodded, and you paused your movements with a sigh. You stared up at the ceiling as the familiar sense of grief washed over you. “He was very kind. I’ve never met anyone who didn’t like him, actually. He was a great storyteller, too. I remember when I was younger, he would sit by the fireplace next to my mother, and he would tell me stories about men who went on grand adventures off at sea. Rooster used to pretend like he wasn’t listening to the stories, but he’d always ask just as many questions as I would.”

You felt tears prickle at your lashline, and you quckly scrubbed at them. Bob gave you a sympathetic smile.

“You must really miss him,” he said softly. You gave him a watery smile.

“I am who I am today because of him,” you murmured. You jumped when the door to the galley swung open to reveal a handsome man with skin darker than Javy’s.

“Bob, is the food ready yet?” he huffed. Bob scrambled to do one last check over the food before nodding his head.

“Yeah, it’s done Reuben. We’ll bring it out in a minute,” Bob stuttered frantically, rushing to dish out the food. Reuben grunted before turning to walk back out the door.

He stopped, glancing back at Bob. “Oh, before I forget. The captain says he’s eating in his quarters tonight.”

Bob sighed. “Thanks, Reuben.”

The other man sent him a wave over his shoulder and departed without another word. Bob quickly handed you a serving dish before pushing you towards the door.

“You better go,” he murmured. “The captain doesn’t like waiting. His quarters are upstairs and the door right in front of you when you enter the hall. Knock on it when you get there.”

You gave him a nod before turning to make your way in the direction he specified. You passed several men who were gathered around the end of a large table. They all cried out at the sight of the dice that rolled out of the cup and onto the table.

“Snake eyes!”

The air turned cool as you stepped out onto the deck, the last rays of the sun disappearing beneath the horizon. You saw the multitude of stars that were already shining in the night sky, and you could just make out some of the constellations your father had taught you.

“The most important star you’ll ever need to know, little minnow,” he had whispered to you one night, guiding your eyes up to the heavens, “is Polaris, the north star. A sailor is never lost as long as they can find it. It brings me home to you, your mother, and Bradley every time I’m away.”

You stared at the shining star, heart wrenching. “You didn’t bring him home.”

You continued on, stepping into the hallway where three doors stood. You walked up to the one directly in front of you, knocking like Bob had instructed. A beat past, and the door opened to reveal Javy standing in front of you. He blinked, taking in your much smaller form.

“Cabin boy,” he greeted, eyes looking at you with intrigue still. You cleared your throat, shifting nervously from one foot to the other.

“I’ve brought the captain his supper,” you murmured, eyes looking everywhere but at the man before you. “I’m sorry, sir. We didn’t know you’d be eating here as well.”

“I’m not,” he replied, taking the serving dish carefully from you. “I’ll be joining the crew momentarily. I’ll give the captain his meal, cabin boy. You go on ahead.”

You hesitated. You weren’t sure why you did, but the sound of pained grunt from inside the cabin caught your attention. You moved to peer inside, but the quarter master blocked your view.

“That will be all, cabin boy,” he gritted out, a warning in his eyes. You nodded hesitantly before turning to slowly make your way back out onto the deck.

When you made your way back into the galley, you found that Bob had already begun to dish out some of the plates.

“Are you alright?” he asked you, seeing the pinched look on your face. You looked up at him quickly before giving him a very unconvincing smile in reassurance.

“Yes,” you said. “I thought I heard someone in pain in the captain’s cabin.”

Bob stilled for a moment before continuing his movements, humming in thought. “Was anyone there with him?”

“No,” you shook your head. “Javy was there.”

Bob breathed a breath of relief. “That’s good, then. He’ll take care of Jake, don’t you worry.”

You hummed, grabbing a plate he handed you and walking out to serve the rest of the crew.

A couple of weeks had gone by, and you were slowly falling into a routine aboard the ship. Bob kept you busy with meal preparations and stories of the different places the crew had visited during their travels. He was regaling you with one such tale as the two of you sat in the shade provided by the upper deck.

“I think you’ll like Jamaica, Pete,” Bob grinned at you.

“Why’s that?” you ask him, glancing at him sideways with a grin of your own.

“It’s great over there! The beaches are beautiful, and the food is amazing!”

“Personally,” drawled a deep voice, “I think Pete here would be more of a New Orleans fan.”

The two of you looked up to see Jake leaning against a barrel, and both of you scrambled to stand up.

“Captain,” you greeted, and Jake raised an eyebrow at you.

“I see you’ve been working hard.”

“We were just taking a break, Jake,” Bob muttered. Jake hummed at him before gesturing towards the hull.

“Why don’t you go finish preparing for tonight’s meal?”

Bob sighed, moving to obey the captain’s orders with you following.

“Not you, cabin boy,” Jake called after you with a smirk. You stopped, casting Bob a worried glance, but he gave you a smile in encouragement.

“I’ll see you down there,” he whispered to you. “Don’t let him scare you, okay? His bark is worse than his bite.”

“I heard that,” Jake groused. Bob chuckled before patting you gently on the shoulder and continuing on his way. You turned around to face the blond man who was watching you with a twinkle in his eye that you couldn’t place.

“What is it you need from me, Captain?” you asked him, hands folded behind your back. Jake’s smirk grew.

“No need to be so formal, cabin boy,” he chuckled. “You might as well call me Jake. Everyone else around here does.”

“I’ll call you ‘Jake’ when you call me ‘Pete,’” you shoot back at him, clamping your mouth shut as Jake let out a booming laugh, throwing his head back in glee.

“Any other captain would have had you flogged, cabin boy,” he grinned at you. “But lucky for you, I’m not them. Go on and help Bob with the food, and tell him to stop griping at the lack of supplies. We’ll be docking at Port Royal in the morning.”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. You turned to walk away, but Jake called after you.

“Oh, cabin boy?”

You turned to look at him.

“I never properly welcomed you that day,” he smirked, eyes shining. You frowned at him in confusion. Pushing up off the barrel, he strutted along the deck towards the stairs that led up to the upper deck. Pausing, he glanced over his shoulder.

“Welcome aboard the Hangman.”

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun hangman #top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin x you #jake seresin x you #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin imagine #hangman x reader #hangman #hangman x you #hangman imagine #fool's fare

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 8 months

Text

Dirty Work 23

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: what up my slutty butties!

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You help Leslie bring out the plates. You set one before Mr. Laufeyson as Leslie puts one down before an empty chair. You can hear your dad muttering at his puzzle. Your boss is unfazed as he smugly sits waiting.

"Offer him something to drink while I get your father," Leslie lowers her voice, turning her back to your guest, "I know you didn't have a mother around but have some common courtesy."

You flinch, injured by her unnecessary remark. Sometimes she says things that sting, just like your father. You suppose that's why they get along so well. She sidesteps you and enters the front room, announcing her presence gaily as she calls your father's name.

"Mr. Laufeyson," you face him sheepishly, "would you like something to drink?"

"I suppose you haven't any cabernet," he snorts. You clamp your lip tightly in humiliation. "I am driving so I suppose it wouldn't matter, you have water, yes? It will suffice."

"Yes, Mr. Laufeyson," you answer and spin away, fleeing to the kitchen behind the shield of the simple task.

You take a glass from the cupboard, checking to make sure it's clear and clean, and fill it from the filtered jug in the fridge. You return to the dining room as Leslie helps your father in. He bats her hand off his arm and grunts as he drops into an empty chair across from Mr. Laufeyson. You put the water in front of your boss and peek over at your dad.

"Dad, do you want something--"

"No," he barks as he snatches his fork, poking at the seasoned turnip, "what is this shit?" He sniffs, "smells like garbage."

You sit and balance at the edge of your chair, not paying any mind to the food before you.

"Charlies, don't be rude," Leslie claims a seat of her own, "Loki's mother was so kind to send this over to us."

"I don't know her," your father growls.

"Can't complain for free food, can we?" Leslie girds gently and sends a smile to Laufeyson, "it's been a tough day for him. The humidity really bothers him."

"Would you be quiet?" Your father snaps, "I can speak for myself and I'm just damn fi--"

Your father breaks out into another storm of coughs. He hits the table and braces it, his fork clattering as he struggles to catch his breath. Mr. Laufeyson sits placidly, picking up his knife and fork, and cutting into the pork loin.

"My, you do sound rather terrible," he says as he pokes a morsel of meat in the air on the tines.

"He'll be fine, he just needs to catch his breath," Leslie assures.

"Mm, have you thought of an air purifier? It might do this place some good?" Laufeyson suggests with a curl of his lip, biting into the pork.

"Mr. Fucking Fancy Pants," your dad slaps his own chest as he finds his voice, "what do you know? You ain't some doctor walking in here telling me how to breathe."

"I have several degrees so I could claim the title, I suppose," Laufeyson taunts, "I always thought it a bit pompous, however."

"Ah, go off and buy another set of tits," your father snarls.

"You are such a loving father, aren't you?" Laufeyson goads.

"Good enough to know yours never smacked you hard enough," your dad retorts.

Silence. You look at Leslie as she peers between the men, a frigid smile frozen on her face. You bat your lashes as you teeter and grip the table.

Your dad takes his fork again and scoops up a soft chunk of turnip. He puts it in his mouth, making a face as he tastes it then gags and spits it out. It flies across the table onto Laufeyson's plate. Your brows rise as Leslie's expression mirrors your shock.

"Tastes like garbage too. That mother of yours must be just as much a disappointment to your father as you," your dad chortles at his own insult, hacking into another fit.

Mr. Laufeyson sets his fork down. He sighs and slides his plate away. He stares down your father as he sets his back straight.

"As much as you are to your daughter, I'm sure."

"Mr. Laufeyson," you squeak.

"Get--" your father coughs and chokes, fighting to get to his feet, his stomach hitting the table and rattling the dishes, "the fuck--" cough -- "out of my house."

"Is that what you call this place?" Laufeyson remains seated, glancing around derisively.

Leslie gasps, "sir, now you are too much, we welcomed you in--"

"I wasn't aware your job included nursing his bruised ego," Laufeyson shoots in her direction, "don't remind me of etiquette. I brought you all more than the scraps you have in the back of that dingy fridge. Of course, you wouldn't have the taste or sense to know good food."

"I said GET OUT!" Your father hollers so hard he sways, his voice scratching at its peak.

"Dad," you stand up, "Mr. Laufeyson, please, you need to go--"

"Take your own advice," he stands and scoffs in your father's direction.

"Stop, please, he's my dad--"

"Oh yes, I've heard it before," Laufeyson sneers, "and I heard you beg him just the same before he--"

"No!" You exclaim, "no, leave. Now. Please--"

"You needn't convince me further," Mr. Laufeyson strides around the table, "Chuck," he stops next to your father as he puffs, grasping the chair for support, "try not to choke on your own vitriol."

He pats your dad arm, causing him to recoil and fall onto the chair. Leslie rushes over to him as you stand dumbfounded. You hoped the day wouldn't get worse and yet, you can't say you didn't expect it. Even so, it hits you like a car at full speed and knocks the wind out of you. You don't know what to do.

"Have a good night," Mr. Laufeyson says at the door, "however pleasant it could ever be in a rat-infested hole like this." He looks at you, "thank you for this lovely dinner."

He turns and struts out. You shake your head as adrenaline courses through you, burning around your lungs and hammering in your chest. You look over at your father as he continues to cough violently.

"Dad..." you try to go to him.

"Haven't you done enough?" Leslie snaps as she lashes you with a glare. You wince and stumble back.

"I didn't--"

"He's right about you, isn't he?" She snarls, "you're just an ungrateful brat."

"No--"

"Go!" Your father forces through his choking gasp, "you little bitch!"

Your lip trembles as the room spins. You twirl away without a second thought, horrified and humiliated. You run out into the hallway and barrel up the stairs, sobbing by the time you get to the top step. Mr. Laufeyson has ruined everything. Your job, your family, and your entire life.

You thought you had nothing before, how wrong you were.

✨

You cry yourself to sleep, just like many nights before. Your head swirls with rippled visions of angry eyes and shadowy figures. You drown in the thick unconscious, nearly suffocated with terror as you're paralysed against the virulent nightmares.

You wake only as a crash splinters your sleep. You sit up, heaving for air as you see a dark figure eerily similar to the one in your dreams. You blink until you can, the light of the hallway glowing in the limn your father's portly figure.

He drags out the next drawer from your dresser and dumps it over the pile mounded on the floor. He staggers as he drops the plywood and kicks it aside. He leans on the handle of his oxygen tank as you reach for your lamp.

"Dad? What are you--"

He struggles to reach for the bottle by his feet. He lifts it and wobbles as he untwists the cap. He overturns the bottle of bleach onto the heap of clothes, kicking them around as the stringent chemical spills out. You watch as he ruins the layers of new clothing and cry out as you bounce to the foot of the bed.

"What are you doing!?" You shriek.

"Whore's clothes," he tosses the bottle on top, "you... bring your pimp in here like the slut you are--"

"Dad," you whimper but have no words. He's not so far off after all. You look down at the clothes and the pale stains of the bleach patching across the fabric, "dad, I'm sorry. I tried-- I was only--"

"I don't care," he grits, "I'm done with you. You been..." he takes a deep breath, clasping his chest, "mooching off me for thirty years. You sucked the life outta me--" he gasps again, "look what you done to me," he tugs at the tube that trails down his chest, "this is your fault. You killed me just like you did your mother."

"No, no, no," you touch your cheeks as they burns and your tears fall free, "please, don't say that."

It's another nightmare. It has to be. You're still sleeping. This can't be real.

"Dad," you stand and reach for him, "don't be mad--"

He hits you. Not hard, he can't. He's too weak. You flinch and back away, cowering as you cradle your head. He looks around, his head bobbling and grabs the hardcover book from atop your dresser.

He nears you as you shrink down, stunned into helplessnness. He grips the book with both hands and swings it at you. The first strikes doesn't wake you. It's real.

He hits you, over and over, the sharp corner jabbing into your cheek and chin, then the side thumping across your shoulder and against your side. He keeps on until he can't.

He drops the book and coughs, bending over as he slips to one knee. You watch him, tears streaming into your hands as you babble like a child.

"Daddy," you murmur.

"You get out or I'll call... the goddamn... police," he braces the oxygen tank and forces himself up. "This isn't your home no more." He limps and drags the tank to the door, "it never was.”

✨

You don't know what to do. You can barely stop crying long enough to think. The heavy bags weigh down your steps as you wander mindlessly to the corner and stop, the reality of the moment crashing down like thunder.

You drop the duffle bag and sit on it, letting your work bag hit the pavement by your feet. The sun has barely come up as you sit in the dim hue of dawn. Where do you go?

You feel yourself sinking. Your lungs are reading to shrivel and your head is going to cave in. You're lost. You have no home, you have no father, you have nothing... well, you still have a job.

You cry a little longer, until you hear the first sign of life from across the street. You get up as a man comes of a house. He doesn't notice you as you hitch up your work bag and grab the duffle from the sidewalk. You just need somewhere for a night or two. Let dad cool off and you'll apologise. It will be okay.

You walk down to the main road and catch the first bus. You have no direction, no destination. You get off as you see the marquee of the Holiday Inn. You've never stayed in a hotel, hopefully they have room for you. It seems like no one does.

You shuffle inside, tired and worn out. There's a woman behind the front desk, sitting on a chair so you can only see the top of your head. You hobble over under the weigh of your bags and wait for her to notice you. When she doesn't, you tap the bell on the counter.

"Eh?" She stands up, almost tipping over, "sorry," she yawns, "didn't hear you come in."

"Mm," you hum and chew your lips, "that's okay. Erm..."

"Do you have a reservation? Bit early... or late, to be checking in."

"No, uh, I don't," you lower your eyes, "do you have anything available?"

"Sure we do," she answers chipperly. You look at her name tag; Mindy. "I got a few singles clean and ready."

"Okay, that's good," you answer, "how much?"

"Hundred and twenty for tonight. Credit on file or three hundred cash deposit."

"Oh," you try not show your surprise, "okay, I er, think I have enough but I don't have a credit card."

"Now worries, there's an ATM," she points across the lobby.

"Thank, can I leave my bags here for a second?"

"Sure, sweetie," she turns to the computer and clicks around.

You cross to the machine and dig out your debit card. You slide it into the slot and push the firm metal buttons. Your stomach plummets as you punch in the custom amount for withdrawal. You were saving that for the mortgage and Leslie. You hit Yes and the machine whirs, spitting out a stack of bills and a receipt.

You return to the counter and hand it over. Mindy asks for your name and phone number. You give her your info, growing more weary by the moment.

"Here are your keys," she hands over a tiny paper folio, "checkout is 11am tomorrow."

"Thanks."

"Wifi info is in there, along with information about breakfast. Coffee in the room and a kettle. Oh, and microwave."

You thank her one last time and collect your bags once more. You go to the elevator and check the folio for your room number. You hit floor six and wait for the box to rise. You step off, following the wall plaques to the matching door. It's yours, just for a little bit.

You swipe the card several times before it unlocks, struggling to make it register. You push your duffle inside with your feet and put your work bag beside it as the door shuts on its own. The room is small, the walls are pasted in faded wallpapers and the bed is made with sheets that remind you of another decade.

You put the keys on the table against the wall and drag yourself to the bed. You don't really have any time to nap, you just need to get off your feet for a little.

Your restlessness doesn't let you sit long. You wear some of your old clothes, of the few pieces you salvaged from the ruin. You check yourself in the mirror. You don't bother with the makeup. Mr. Laufeyson will be disappointed either way. Besides, you shouldn't care so much what he thinks. You're just his house manager after all. You're there to do a job.

If only believing it would make it true.

You find a route that goes towards his neighbourhood. It lets you off a few blocks away and you take your time. You almost don't have a choice as your body is achy from your father's attach, new bruises rising tenderly to the surface.

You're early despite the fractured night. As you pass the cafe, you slow and glance through the window. Just one more quiet moment before you face the inevitable.

You push inside and see the same woman as last time. You give the same order as you doubt she even recognises you. She hovers her finger over the touch screen of her till, "we have a special, a rose tea latte, if you're interested."

"Oh?" You scrunch up your lips, you've never been good at saying no. "Sure, I'll try that."

You got the change to pay and frown. You shouldn't be spending what's left on a tea. You should be smarter. Maybe if you were, you wouldn't be such a loser.

You sit and stare at the pink foam. You don't know if you can do this but what other choice do you have? You could just disappear but for how long? You'll run out of money. As hard as it was to get this job, you don't think a new one would be any easier when you have one reference. A reference who you don't expect a shining review from.

You sip carefully. It's delicious. You drop your forehead into your hand as hot tears brim your eyes. You fight to constrain them, nearly quaking with the effort. Your eyes are swollen enough as it is.

You continue to drink, keeping your head down, and finish before you resign yourself to fate. To face Mr. Laufeyson. You can do this, not because you're strong, but because you have to.

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #maid au #dirty work #avengers #mcu #marvel #thor

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riswippiesx · 8 months

Text

Love & Care | Toji Fushiguro X Fem! Reader

🌷 Part two

•The confession and aftermath🌸 Part one(headcanons)

Theme: mild angst, fluff, slightly suggestive at the end(very mild, just some hint)

Warnings: ooc Toji, age gap(Toji is in his early 40s and reader is in her early 20s), suggestive jokes, nervousness, not proof read[I'm lazy asf😐]

Notes: Finally the part two is here. I'm sorry if Toji doesn't sound like Toji😭 I didn't want to make him a rude bratty guy here. also so sorry for the delay. This Toji has no filters and says suggestive jokes. I have portrayed Megumi's relation with Toji in a frank manner. They are like friends more than typical son and dad.

Also long stroy warning!!⚠️ I just love to write long fics! So don't mind. I hope you enjoy🦋

Oh the nervousness! It was ruling over your mind and you hated it. Once you even decided to ditch the evening meet up and put some excuses later on when Megumi would be furious at you. You could handle it, you were great at calming Megumi down all the time. It'd be piece a cake. But again, you knew you would regret in future thinking everything was already fallen in places except for one single piece, The confession.

The dilemma was draining but a faint possibility of getting together with a man whom you actually wanted, was keeping you up and thus you decided to shrug off all the thoughts of ditching the meet up and went to take a shower.

And the shower worked like charm for you. Your mind was finally working straight and you did all the routines you needed. You pampered your hairs and your body just the way it seemed right. After all, the evening might turn into something really special. Well there were chances, at least.

You dried yourself after shower and texted Megumi if the date was still on and he reassured you everything was fine. He didn't forget to warn you about the scary circumstances if you dared to back off in the last moment and the last thing you wanted was to offend determined Megumi. So you assured him that you won't back off.

You mothered Megumi, but sometimes he turned into a strict guide towards you and this time wasn't any exception. So you chose a outfit, suitable enough in your eyes. You decided to keep your look subtle. You were almost done when your phone ringed once. It was Megumi, who texted you the address of the beautiful cafe where he decided to bring his dad. You texted him back and left for an uncertain but exciting evening.

"Are you sure that you will be okay with me? I mean you said it was a hang out with your friend.. So..?", Toji asked, buttoned up with black shirt.

"Of course dad. Will you stop asking me the same question for like tenth time now?", Megumi looked at his dad's direction with a tired expression. He purposely didn't mention your name. He said that his friends wanted to meet his dad, since they thought his dad was so cool, which was quite a truth but Toji barely believed that. But Megumi somehow convinced him.

He felt like a dad, who was trying to set up two children. It was too much to deal with but if the whole thing turned out in the way he thought, it would be worthy enough. But he didn't have any plan about the opposite results at all.

He brushed off his thoughts soon after and hurried his dad, "C'mon, why are taking so long to get ready, dad? Hurry up already..or we will be late"

"Oh boy. Don't rush me up. I'm an old man. Spare me", Toji smirked at his son while fixing his waist belt. Megumi sighed in response.

"You? Old man? Yeah sure", Megumi mocked back. He wasn't as old as he claimed. After all, he was the one who was getting a girl, while Megumi barely had a talking phase with anyone. Anyway.

It took you 30 minutes to reach to that certain cafe but you were the one who reached first, actually. You stood outside and noticed the ambience inside. Being honest, it was really beautiful and eye catching. The dim lights added an extra charm to it. You smiled. Megumi did a great job in finding a proper place.

You waited for near 10 minutes when you heard a familiar voice calling for you.

"Y/n?"

Yoy looked back and found your dream man with a bouquet of your favorite flowers. And that was enough to melt your heart. Moreover, he looked extremely handsome in his all black look. His black shirt, black pants and that gorgeous black overcoat— oh he looked expensively glorious. You couldn't look away.

"T-Toji san..", a smile appeared on your lips as you stated his name.

"I didn't expect you...to be that friend...?"

"....what friend?"

"The one who said that I was cool and wanted to meet me..?"

Oh so that was Megumi's excuse huh.

"Yeah..I well..actually they will arrive soon.."

"Alright...is there any other female friend?"

"No...?!"

"I see...so here...." He offered the flowers to you. "Megumi told to give these flowers to the his female friend and since no other female friend of his is coming, I hope these are meant for you..?" He smiled and you died at pretty his smile.

"..thank you...these are my favorite.."

"Oh? Great. But Megumi couldn't give it to you..sorry for that..he said he left his phone at home and he needed it contact with that certain friend..so he went back to take it and I came here....that boy is so clumsy.." He laughed.

What a great actor you are, Gumi! You praised him in your mind and smiled. "That's okay.."

"Yeah let's wait here till he arrives."

"It's fine, let's.. Go inside if you don't mind..he will join us later..? Or...well the tables might get all booked..."

Toji was silent for while before he agreed and you two entered the cafe. If it looked great from outside, it looked heavenly once you entered. The light music in the background was putting everything together.

The two of you were guided to a pre-booked table and sat there. You had plenty of topics to chat about but this evening wasn't for chitchat. You needed to get to the point but it was scary. You couldn't bare rejection, not from your dream man. Toji was speaking to you but it was hard for you to focus when so much was going on in your head.

"Y/n..you are not responding.. Are you okay? Feeling alright?", he sounded worried and you realised that you were zoning out the entire time when he spoke.

"Well..sorry I was zoning out.."

"That's fine..you are okay right?"

"Yes", you smiled. He sounded so soft and caring. Was it real? Or were you being delusional? You couldn't tell. Then you forced yourself to engage in the conversation. You needed to divert your mind before actually confessing. It was just some basic chitchat when he mentioned.

"I can say some boys checking you out"

"Oh?"

"Yeah but let's ignore them. But you..do look pretty." A nervous giggle was the only thing you could do as a response. Your heart was pounding so hard that it might come out. Even Toji might hear it. Shit. You needed to get yourself together.

"Y/n are you really okay? Are you feeling uneasy? Want to go back? We can..."

"No..it's fine..no worries."

"You look like I need to worry. Your forehead is sweaty..it's kinda chilly today..you must feel sick.."

"No I..I am totally fine trust me..."

"Are you hiding something? Or you want to say something?"

You looked away. Your heart rate never became this fast. You knew it was the right time. You had to tell him your hearts content. Megumi worked hard to bring you two this far. You won't let him down. You won't let your future self regret. But you wasn't sure how to start.

At that moment of extreme nervousness, you felt Toji's hands on yours.

"It's okay Y/n..you can tell me pretty much whatever you want. I know I don't mind much. So calm down first and then say it."

Your eyes drifted back to his and his eyes hinted some care. Care for you. He was trying to comfort you. He was trying to help you. And it actually worked. Your extreme nervousness reduced a bit. You grabbed his hands back and closed your eyes. Yours eyes were shut untill you were again in control of your nerves.

You slowly opened your eyes. The peace you were feeling in your heart was so soothing. Your dilemmas weren't that much bold anymore. Your lips parted to form a few words.

"Toji san...I...like you...not as Megumi's dad..as..you..yourself.."

Toji took a moment to process the words you stated. You liked him? You? Such a gorgeous woman liked him? Was it a joke? You eyes didn't seem like one though.

Both of you stayed quiet and took your time. Your hands were still in his hold. But he took back his hands. And that was the last thing you wanted to happen but you imagined this a thousand time in your head. Rejection. Rejected by your dream man. Rejected by Toji Fushiguro. Was he refusing your feelings? Of course he was. Why would he ever be with a younger girl like you? He wasn't that fallen to consider his son's friend as his partner.

Your heart and mind was getting bitter.

"..excuse me..for a bit..y/n..I need to go check if Megumi is coming..."

Part of you wanted to yell ans say that he won't come. This evening was meant for you and him and him only. But another part kept your lips shut together. You just nodded in approval and with that Toji left the cafe.

You were certain that he partially rejected you. He didn't like you. Megumi was wrong, so wrong. You shouldn't have listened to him. You could have faced the longing but this..this wasn't something you could bare. All the times you spent with Toji, made you fall even further for him. His laugh, his jokes..you laughed a lot. His eyes, so deep to even drown you. His noticable scar, which he stated to be sign of his daring younger life's stunts- you adored that a lot. His face even looked better with it. You loved all of it but it was all for your own self. You didn't have to confess it. Dumb! Really dumb!

You looked down. The bitterness was consuming you. You wanted to cry but some strong determination in you didn't let you embarrass yourself any further in a public place. You just sat there with you head on your both hands.

Toji quickly came out. He really hoped that you didn't notice the faint blush on his face. He couldn't recall the last time he blushed like this. It was overwhelming. He wasn't sure when things turned into something more than just some chitchat about Megumi's well being. He ignored it all untill one day, when he found himself thinking about your pretty smile while working or making dinner or taking a pleasant shower.

He was ashamed of himself when he found that he had fallen for a girl half of his age, and she was literally his son's best friend. How could he? But he did and it was hard to sallow that fact. Everytime you stopped by to chat or met up to hang out, he was mesmerized by you. You brought a ray of sunshine in his dull days. His heart was filled with so much love after many years. Your memories, smell, words lingered around him for hours after you left each time.

But he thought it just one sided. Sometimes he felt you might like him back but he scolded him for thinking that far.

It was all proven actually right when you confessed. His heart stopped, ears perked up. You felt the same as he did? How could the world be so perfect. His heart told him to accept right away but a person appeared in his mind's mirror. Megumi. His son. How would he react if he found out his dad with his best friend?

And that was when a lot came in together. He got a faint clue about Megumi's consent in all this. Almost every time you two met up cause Megumi brought you two together. You two were all in meet ups while Megumi left each time with some weird excuses. He guessed something but certainly not this far. He needed to confirm if it was all in his brain or Megumi was actually involved in this. Thus he excused himself and came out of the restaurant. He knew that it was rude of him. He noticed how your face darkened when he excused himself but he couldn't afford to make a mistake in taking his further decision where you two were linked.

He brought out his mobile and dialled Megumi's number. He didn't pick up. Toji kept on calling and in the seventh attempt, Megumi finally picked up the call.

"Yeah I just got back and grabbed my phone, dad. Don't worry i'll be..." Megumi's fake statement was cut by Toji.

"Megumi be honest with me. Did you willingly set me up with Y/n?"

Megumi went silent. He had nothing to say as a reply to that.

"Megumi, I want an answer." Toji again spoke.

"Dad..."

"Yeah I'm listening"

Megumi sighed in disappointment, "...yes...I did..sorry..."

"How many times?"

"Pretty much all the time..."

"Wow"

"Are you upset?"

Toji didn't reply to that. He couldn't. He wasn't upset bur he was confused.

"Sorry...if you are...just don't blame her-"

"I'm not..just tell me one thing. Why did you do all these? Are you okay with... Your best friend being with your...dad?"

"I am always okay. Even I want you two to date"

"Why do you say so?"

"Why? You two literally talk about each other all the time. You have no idea how Y/n just keeps praising you all the time. And then at home, you do the same about her. You two didn't know how to keep things up, so I did the favour. Now tell me one thing. Did she confess?"

"She did."

"I hope you accepted"

"I came out of the restaurant without saying much"

"Dad...you are a game spoiler..."

"How on the earth would I know that you were this intrigued about us.."

"What?"

"I thought you would creep out if you get to know about I was dating your friend-"

"No I won't. When you two go so well with each other, why would I?"

"Right...so should I ...accept..?"

"You are asking? Yes you should! Geez!"

"Alright."

"You old people are so dramatic"

"Still your best friend liked me over you", Toji grinned over the call and Megumi could heard the sarcasm in his tone.

"Yeah yeah whatever. Just go back and accept."

"Sure, thanks"

"Go!"

And the hang up. Toji was sure about his next move. He would confess as well that he liked you, he loved you. You were the woman who made him gasp from time to time. You were the woman who fluttered his heart.

Thinking about you brought a smile to his face. He took a deep breath and turned to go back inside. That was when you came out. You looked tensed and upset. He knew he screwed up. He had to fix it.

"Y/n..."

"You were right.. I am actually not feeling well. Don't worry I talked with the manager. They cancelled the booking. You can go back. Sorry for wasting your time. Also, Toji san..forget what I said. Please. It was just a....well don't mind", you forced a smile.

"Y/n no..you're getting it wrong.."

"Please don't push yourself Toji san. I totally understand."

"No you don't. Y/n listen to what I want to say"

You were silent. He took that chance and spoke.

"Y/n.. I didn't mind. Not at all. Why would I..when I felt the same.."

You looked up at him. Your eyes were slightly widened.

"Yes..I like you too..and not just as Megumi's friend. As you. Y/n you amaze me. You're an wonderful woman. I just didn't accept right away because..I wasn't sure what Megumi would think of me..if I did..."

"Gumi knows about-"

"Yes I talked to him already. Actually I came outside to call him. Didn't expect my boy to go that far" he laughed a bit. "But I'm glad he did. Because I didn't have that courage to make a move on you. It felt so wrong to think about you as my partner at this age..I thought it was one sided. But your words cleared my thoughts and I'm really so glad that you feel the same for me."

"Are you...sure?"

"One hundred percent" he stated confidently which was enough to make you chuckle. Oh how pretty you looked with a smile on your face. "So ......is the proposal still valid?"

"It is always valid." You smiled. Toji's eyes softened a bit more as he grabbed your hand and kissed it.

"Great. Now let me ask you out this time..okay?"

"On a street side?"

"For now, yes."

"The people?"

"I don't really mind"

"Well..okay"

Toji got on his knees and hold your hands close to his heart. "Y/n..will you...will you do a favour to this old man and be his girlfriend?" You giggled at his goofy confession and replied, "I'd love to" and with that he kissed your hand once again.

Since you cancelled the booking, Toji decided to take you to his favorite bakery and you tried some of the cookies and desserts, so did he. You two were like two birds in love. And it was actually pure love. The adoration was so content in your relationship that you both felt at home in each other's presence.

After hanging for a bit more, Toji stopped at a flower shop and bought your favorite flowers for you, as you left the previous bouquet at the cafe. Also he didn't buy that with the intension of giving it to you in with his consciousness. So it was needed. You were delighted, so was him.

You walked as you talked. His car wasn't there since he told Megumi to drive back to take his phone. Well he didn't know things were all planned anyway. So you two decided to walk to your home.

It was a long walk yet that felt so less. Distance never seems enough when you are with your favorite person.

"Well, we are here..", Toji spoke with a smile.

"Yes..thank you..for today..Toji san.."

"Just Toji.."

"It'll take some time to adjust", you laughed.

"No problem"

"Good night. Let's meet another day, soon"

"Sure.." Smile never left his lips. You nodded and turned to get inside of your apartment but he again called you. You looked back while he stepped closer

"Forgive me for this but..." He didn't finish his sentence when you felt his lips on yours. That heavenly feeling, which you imagined so many times, was actually happening to you. Your soul jumped and shivered. You were quick to close your eyes aa you got lost in that one kiss. It hold so many emotions. After so many days, you were finally being kissed by the man you loved and adored a lot, by YOUR man.

He, on the other hand, found the peace of the world on your lips. His heart raced yet it bought peace to him. Your lips felt soft on his and his hands cupped your face. He just couldn't let your lips go.

Finally he let your lips go and looked at your face. You looked even more gorgeous up close. He admired you. Your eyes were closed yet he could tell your eyes would speak of happiness and excitement.

His breath fell on your face as you opened your eyes again. You eyes met his and his gaze brought the very common yet sweet factor of love to you, shyness. Your gaze drifted to the ground and your lips were slightly swollen from the kiss. He just wanted to kiss you again but he had to control himself. He didn't want to over do it. So he slowly let you go but stayed close to you.

"Did I cross the limit?" He smiled.

"No.."

"Glad to know" he kissed your cheeks and your heart just almost stopped. You wanted to hide your face. His direct gaze was piercing your through your soul. So you hugged him and hid your face in his embrace. Your action made him giggle softly and he hugged you back.

"There there..did I make you shy?"

"Didn't know you were such a tease"

"Well sweetheart, there's a lot you will learn from now on"

"..looking forward to it.."

"Yeah?" He slowly pulled you back and looked at you. "Sure?" and you nodded. A mischievous grin appeared on his features. "You will learn how far my teasing can go...soon" and he winked as he grabbed your waist. Your face was burning with shyness.

"Toji san! It's getting late...you should go back now..good night !" With that you made yourself free and ran inside your apartment with your racing heart.

The whole thing made him laugh hard. His phone rang and it was his son.

"Yeah..Hello"

"How did it go..?"

"Very well. She is now my girl"

"Thankfully."

"Yeah I even kissed her.."

"Well I didn't need to know that much dad....but yeah good for you two" Megumi smiled.

"I know. Just a show off"

"Old man!"

"Hey! Don't insult me like that..your mom won't like it.."

"Huh?"

"Y/n..she would certainly not like it if you insult her boyfriend and her possible future husband"

"I would never call her mom! No way"

"Someone else will..."

"Yikes. Can you please be careful about what are you saying and whom you are talking to! You are disgusting! Y/n would be so mad if she knew that you were saying such weird stuff to me about you two"

Toji laughed in response. "Sorry sorry..just kidding. Will be careful from now on don't worry.."

"Come back soon"

"Yeah"

Well...sorry for being so late omg💀 the college works are just..anyway..anyway...I hope it was okay? Cause I typed for so long lol☠️

Also, Requests are currently closed! I'll inform when they will open again. I'm keeping my chat box open but I would just delete all the requests if I get anything from today untill I open my request box again. sorry💗

Thanks a lot for reading!

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated ♡

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