#they don't WANT more military presence

[whileyoureinschoolidothisallday]

man using your time as Black Woman of the Moment to call for the "Most Lethal Military in the World" when the destruction of Black and Brown bodies is currently and has been front and center in the public eye for the last 5yrs at the least is a specific type of vile and there's a special place in hell

[shadow4-1]

I'm just imagining Ghost telling you that he'll kill anyone you decide to sleep with that isn't him. And, of course, when Soap finds out he's got a bit of a death wish.

Like, you and Simon are just friends with benefits. He drops by your place whenever he gets a leave and that's it. No strings attached. Just something quick to fill the time. At least, that's the way it'd always been.

"If you fuck anyone else m' a kill 'im."

It's hard to take him seriously when he's got you face down on floor with your ass up in the air. You groan and try to push your hips back against him. He grabs you by the scruff of your neck and cranes your head back. You whine at the discomfort but he doesn't stop. He mutters the threat into your ear again before finally letting you go.

You cum harder than you'd like to admit. But when you finally come back down to Earth, you start to wonder. You try to ask him about it but he says nothing. Whatever this is - it's supposed to be no strings attached. You're allowed to see other people. You're allowed to fuck other people.

But you've never known Simon to be anything other than a man of his word. His threat is more than likely serious. You don't know much about his background other than he's military and that he's sustained heavy trauma over the years. So, you find that you don't really want to try him.

It's easy for awhile. Simon always leaves you satiated. But, as weeks turn into months you start to feel your skin crawl. You would've already called up your other friends with benefits by now. Instead, you'd blocked them all that first week he'd left.

You try to ignore your hunger, but it festers into a deep seated need none of your toys can rid you of. You get a call from Simon one night after a fruitless tryst with your vibrator. He sounds to be in better spirits after you whine about how much you miss him. You don't even realize how you sound until the words are already out of your mouth.

"Johnny's gonna drop by t' check in on you, love." Ghost hums contentedly. "Show 'im a good time."

He hangs up.

What does he mean by that? You'd met Johnny numerous times before. You'd flirted and enjoyed yourself in his presence but...he's Simon's best friend. Show him a good time? Does he want you to screw him? But...he said he'd kill anyone you sleep with?

You try to keep your resolve when Johnny drops by later that evening. He's his usual charming self - touchy and too comfortable. You voice to him your unease, but he brushes it off with more shameless flirting over your homemade dinner. After dinner, he practically throws you up onto the kitchen table. You kick and push at his chest with outstretched arms. Whatever this is can't happen.

"No! Johnny, he'll kill you." You squawk, pushing at his jaw, trying to keep his lips off of you.

"He wouldn't dare!" He laughs as he forces off your panties with impatient hands.

He flips you over on your stomach, forces your shirt and bra off. He humps desperately against you, slipping his cock out of his jeans. He smells of sweat and musk - as if he'd run straight to your flat after receiving Simon's call.

"Johnny, please." You try to reason with him. "I don't want you getting hurt."

"Hurt? Simon'd never hurt me, love." He hums, tweaking one of your nipples with one hand while he eases open your folds with the other.

"He loves me just as much as he loves you! Besides-"

Johnny laps a long stripe from your collarbone, up across your neck and chin, before stopping to press a firm kiss directly to your lips. You shy away at first, but it isn't but a moment longer before you melt into him. It's been so long...and Johnny is willing to take the risk.

"If he did try to kill me it'd sure be one hell of a fight." He smirks, pressing himself deep inside of you. You whine, tears pricking in your eyes as he practically splits you open with how thick he really is.

"I think I could take 'im nowadays. Aye know all his secrets!"

[dontforgetukraine]

Ukraine Donation Guide Master Post

(Ver. 2 updated Aug 13th, 2024) I will be reformatting this and adding more in the future when I have time.

Also a quick note, all of the groups I have found through twitter have been around long enough for them to be vetted by each other and the brigades they work with. In fact, a lot of these groups collaborate with each other too. Those that are in the fight for Ukraine have been diligent in calling out those that are grifters. Word spreads around quickly if an organization doesn't show up with what they promised. They also use their social media (often Twitter) as a means of transparency for their work.

Remember: When considering on whether to donate, always use your best judgement and donate to those you trust if you do not see what is listed is up to your standards.

Multi-Purpose

United 24 has various fundraisers dedicated to defense and drones, medical aid, rebuilding Ukraine, humanitarian demining, and science and education. You can pick which one you want to contribute to under their various projects.

Liberty Ukraine uses funds for humanitarian aid, medical supplies, protective gear and equipment, and rehabilitation therapy. You can choose which campaign of theirs to donate to.

Come Back Alive is a charitable foundation that supports Ukraine's military with competent assistance while also focusing on security and defense. They also have projects that use sports to help veterans rehabilitate. You can choose which campaign to donate to.

Serhiy Prytula Charity Foundation works to help both civilians and Ukraine's army. You can choose to donate to an active project or any of their general campaigns. Civilian aid campaigns cover temporary housing, supporting crisis and emergency responses, schools, demining, and healthcare. Military aid campaigns cover drones, optics units, communications equipment, and support of air defense teams.

Food Aid

World Central Kitchen works with local partners wherever they are providing food aid. They make sure meals and meal kits are what the local population eats. Even though there is no separate fundraising campaign for Ukraine (that I can see), they still do great work.

Animal Rescue

Hachiko Foundation works to help displaced pets and strays in frontline areas. They help with veterinary care, outdoor shelters, setting up feeding stations, and rehoming animals.

Medical Aid

Hospitallers (Website) is a volunteer organization of paramedics that was founded in 2014. They evacuate the wounded, provide medical aid on the frontlines, assist in rehabilitation, and transfer of the deceased to burial sites. They are also supported by Ukraine Charity. Visit Hospitallers' website to see how many they have evacuated, different methods you can donate, and more information about them.

Other

Saint Javelin (Twitter; Website) is a great place to get apparel, gear, and other cool loot to show your support for Ukraine. They don't take donations, but instead raise funds through their shop with a portion of their sales going towards humanitarian aid and critical items needed by the defenders (generators, pick-up trucks, medical supplies etc). Part of their shop has items made in Ukraine to support Ukrainian businesses. Overall, their products are high-quality. I include them due to their impactful presence in the Twitter community I follow and how they make Ukraine visible in an alternative way. Consider buying someone a gift from their shop.

The Kyiv Independent (Twitter; Website) is a great English language resource for news about Ukraine. I include them because I think supporting good journalism is incredibly important, especially now when the information space is fraught with Russian propaganda, misinformation, and disinformation. My followers have probably noticed I've pulled a lot of quotes from their stories in an effort to amplify Ukrainian voices and experiences. Look on their website for more information on different way to support them, such as their Patreon.

---

If you're on twitter, there are a number of groups and people that fundraise for Ukraine and for specific units fighting on the frontlines. If there is no official website, a PayPal for donations is listed in their profiles. When considering on whether to donate, always use your best judgement and donate to those you trust if you do not see what is listed is up to your standards.

@/Teoyaomiquu almost always has a fundraiser for Liberty Ukraine with a specified purpose. At the time of writing this, he is currently raising funds for engineering equipment such as excavators. One such excavator is already in Kursk. Follow him to stay up to date with what he's fundraising for.

Dyga's Paw (Twitter: @/dzygaspaw) is a smaller group that has recently raised funds for starlinks, drones, batteries, and Ecoflow generators. You can look at the fundraising campaigns they currently have on their website.

@/DefactoHumanity represents and founded Planet of the People with their website U(a)nited for Freedom. She frequently posts updates about their fundraisers and what their partners need. They are known for providing Frontline medical aid supplies, protective equipment and other military aid, technical equipment (starlinks, drones, scopes, etc), and infrastructure equipment (generators, vehicles, power stations, etc). They even have a merch store of the battalions they partner with if that's your jam. Here is their link tree if you wish to explore more. And in case you're curious, there is an article bout the founder here.

@/wilendhornets (Website) specialize in making high quality drones that have gotten a lot of praise from Ukraine's army. They have attracted a lot of media attention too. Check out their website for the list of articles that have been written about them. Their Twitter is very active with strike footage.

Ants Kitchen Hub (@/ants_kyiv) is a volunteer kitchen that makes dry rations for the Ukrainian army. They are more active on their other social media. To learn more about them, check out their link tree.

@/frontlinekit (Front Line Kitchen) is represented by Richard Woodruff. Originally they made shelf stable food for the Ukrainian army, but now their fundraising has branched out to other campaigns such as raising funds for medical supplies and drones. They are a well known group that many battalions have come to for help.

@/bekamaciorowski (Rebekah Maciorowski) is as combat medic and nurse who helps provide medical care to soldiers and civillians at the frontlines. She raises funds for medical supplies and other equipment, but also helps train soldiers in first aid. More of her social media that features her work can be found in her link tree.

@/UkraineAidOps (Website) is another organization battalions frequently go to for help. They fundraise for all sorts of equipment from medical supplies to drones. If you're interested, they also have a shop with patches from different brigades and flags signed by soldiers. Their shop also includes a separate section called the Victory Gallery where artifacts from the war are turned into art. This includes shells that are painted on, scrap metal from downed enemy planes are turned into keychains, and pieces of a rocket are turned into lamps.

Chris Garrett is the co-founder of Prevail. His organization deals with humanitarian demining as well as training for trauma care, training of bomb disposal, and education to the public. Prevail works with local agencies in Ukraine as well as the army.

Project Konstantin (Twitter; Website; Linktree) is still going strong after the death of their founder, British paramedic Peter Fouché. His digital ghost can be found here. They collaborate with the military, thus giving them an insight into what is dearly needed. They often raise funds for starlinks, personalized first aid kits (IFAKs), generators, portable power stations, and other nonlethal military equipment. I regret forgetting them the first time this post went around. Visit their website to see everything they have done and more. It has more information on what and how they do it than this post can cover.

One Team One Fight (Twitter; Website; Linktree) has some of the original members that worked for Ukraine Aid Ops. They formed their own group after differences with the previous one, and are still helping Ukraine. They are very visible on various social media showing what they have accomplished in their deliveries to various brigades. They're another group that seeks to bring starlinks, drones, medical supplies and protective gear to the battalions that come to them for help. Check out their website for more information on their current fundraisers, their achievements, and received recognition.

NAFO 69th Sniffing Brigade (Twitter; Website) Another small group that focuses their funds on delivering drones, generators, vehicles, and saving the occasional furry companion. They are very diligent in their updates for their fundraising campaigns. Check out their website for more information and the articles written about them.

Postmaster General Boomer (Twitter; Website) focuses on humanitarian aid, animal aid, and logistics. Boomer is the beloved pet of one of the founders and the secret boss/mascot. They have many transparency reports and are diligent in reporting the various "tours" they do in getting supplies where they are needed to go. They are based in Germany but have built up many connections during their existence. They have also worked closely with Ukraine Aid Ops.

--

I am sure I have forgotten some, so please reply or comment with any more I should add to this master post. I will edit and update as I see and evaluate more.

Last updated: Aug. 13th, 2024

Version updates listed below

August 13th, 2024 Added:

Hospitallers

Saint Javelin

The Kyiv Independent

Project Konstantin

1 Team 1 Fight

NAFO 69th Sniffing Brigade

Post Master General Boomer

[zvaigzdelasas]

Do you have an analysis on Sinwar being the new politburo chief? Very unexpected choice.

Have a couple thoughts:

Dissolving more of the barrier between Hamas as a political organization & as an insurgent organization

Spitting in Israel's face who was hoping that a decapitation strike would leave hamas with a leader lacking broader political legitimacy in the organization or create divisions/deepen divisions between civilian governance & militant organization

Lessens the leverage Qatar has over Hamas as they were providing Haniyeh with refuge

Since Sinwar is (presumably) in Gaza, his presence will likely be used to justify decreasingly discriminate attacks even moreso than it was before

Likely much more uncompromising (not to imply Haniyeh was) in negotiations

Israel and the US will have to directly negotiate with someone they despise

Dropsite News describes sinwar as such:

Despite the sinister portrayals, Sinwar’s writings and media interviews indicate he is a complex thinker with clearly defined political objectives who believes in armed struggle as a means to an end. He gives the impression of a well-educated political militant, not a cult leader on a mass suicide crusade. “It's not this black image of Sinwar as a man with two horns living in the tunnels,” said Hamad, the Hamas official who worked directly with Sinwar for three years. “But in the time of war, he's very strong. This man is very strong. If he wants to fight, he fights seriously.”

In 1988, just months after Hamas was founded, Sinwar was arrested by Israeli forces and sentenced to four life sentences on charges he had personally murdered alleged Palestinian collaborators. During his 22 years in an Israeli prison, he became fluent in Hebrew and studied the history of the Israeli state, its political culture, and its intelligence and military apparatus. He translated by hand the memoirs of several former heads of the Israeli intelligence agency Shin Bet. “When I entered [prison], it was 1988, the Cold War was still going on. And here [in Palestine], the Intifada. To spread the latest news, we printed fliers. I came out, and I found the internet,” Sinwar told an Italian journalist in 2018. “But to be honest, I never came out—I have only changed prisons. And despite it all, the old one was much better than this one. I had water, electricity. I had so many books. Gaza is much tougher.”[...]

Sinwar, unlike leaders of Al Qaeda or ISIS, has regularly invoked international law and UN resolutions, exhibiting a nuanced understanding of the history of negotiations with Israel mediated by the U.S. and other nations. “Let's be clear: having an armed resistance is our right, under international law. But we don't only have rockets. We have been using a variety of means of resistance,” he said in the 2018 interview. “We make the headlines only with blood. And not only here. No blood, no news. But the problem is not our resistance, it is their occupation. With no occupation, we wouldn't have rockets. We wouldn't have stones, Molotov cocktails, nothing. We would all have a normal life."

Throughout 2018 and 2019, Sinwar endorsed the large-scale nonviolent protests along the walls and fences of Gaza known as the Great March of Return. “We believe that if we have a way to potentially resolve the conflict without destruction, we’re O.K. with that,” Sinwar said at a rare news conference in 2018. “We would prefer to earn our rights by soft and peaceful means. But we understand that if we are not given those rights, we are entitled to earn them by resistance.”[...]

After the end of Israel’s 11-day bombing campaign against Gaza, Sinwar spoke to VICE News and sought to frame the Palestinian struggle in a U.S. context, using recent cases of lethal police violence against African Americans. “The same type of racism that killed George Floyd is being used by [Israel] against the Palestinians in Jerusalem, the Sheikh Jarrah neighborhood, and in the West Bank. And by the burning of our children. And against the Gaza Strip through siege, murder, and starvation.”

And additionally (echoing the words of Hagari)

Support among Palestinians for Hamas and its Gaza leader Yahya Sinwar, according to the recent poll, “remains very high” and has increased during the past three months. At the same time, while two-thirds of Palestinians polled in the occupied territories believe that Hamas will “win the war,” only 48 percent of those in Gaza agreed.

Hamas has insisted the war cannot destroy its movement and will remain part of the tapestry of Palestinian factions governing its besieged and occupied territories. “What matters is that you finally realize that Hamas is here. That it exists. That there is no future without Hamas, there is no possible deal whatsoever, because we are part and parcel of this society, even if we lose the next elections,” Sinwar warned in 2018. “But we are a piece of Palestine. More than that, we are a piece of the history of the entire Arab world, which includes Islamists as well as seculars, nationalists, leftists.”

Daniel Hagari has also echoed this last bit [TimesOfIsrael is Israeli Private Media]

“Hamas is an idea, Hamas is a party. It’s rooted in the hearts of the people — anyone who thinks we can eliminate Hamas is wrong,” he continued.

Rumors are that Netanyahu is trying to figure out necromancy in order to bring Haniyeh back

Also check out this interview conducted by Vice

[luna-loveboop]

Wars and Wild as knights in Lu

They have issues.

I have a lot of thoughts on Wild and Wars and their relationship (Order of this post is talking about saluting, Wild and Wars' different perspectives, memory issues, and fire) Rant time.

No saluting!!

So Wild took a formal- almost/awkwardly saluting pose when Wars confronted him in 'Entrance pt.2'

It's similar to the first time Wild addressed Wars as 'captain'. His left hand is up from where a salute should be, and his overall posture is awkward, with his shoulders and right hand raised, but it's clear he's trying to do a salute in the presence of a fellow knight.

In the second example his hand is behind his head, but his posture is very straight and his right arm stiff- he's again attempting a formal saluting position. Which is still awkward

It is less clear but his changes in posture clued me in. He goes from like a deer in the headlights to visibly sweating to straight backed and looking up at Wars- looking at the changes in his body language

Side note but I literally love how Jojo draws the champions tunic so much-

We can't see the action of Wild's body language in a comic, just the positions he went to. But he visibly leaned away from Wars before switching to a straight backed saluting-like posture. He's clearly freaked out, hence Twilight's face: >:(

I think that Wild taking somewhat military poses around Wars is important to their relationship issues because it comes from his struggle with memory and identity

.

So like. All of them have different perspectives

Wars

I adore Wars. He is baby and I love him. I think it is also important to acknowledge that he would not speak to any of the others this way.

And the scarf man cmon it's so pretty they are so cute-

Why is Wars talking to Wild like this? He's called him out and reprimanded him multiple times in front of the others. Wild has taken it well but tbh if it was Legend I think he would be on fire.

To some extent I think he is in captain mode. I think that he has trouble seeing Wild as not a knight. Wars gives Wild respect as a knight who sacrificed for his kingdom, but now it seems he's taking it away as a knight who's not doing well enough since he 'disregarded the plan'

At least I think that's the outside (or Wild's) view of it. But Wars internally really cares about Wild and he saw him run up to a giant and lose it. Different ways of showing concern perhaps?

Who wouldn't want to keep Wild from getting more scars?

I just. Don't doubt for a second Wars really cares about Wild- even if the way he's acting still isn't cool. He has no right to treat him like a soldier any more than the rest of the chain, and right now I think Wild is acting as the more mature person.

Wild

I adore Wild. He is baby and I love him. I think it is also important to acknowledge that although he is clearly making efforts after Twilight's injury, Wild has ignored Wars for the majority of Lu, by not speaking to him much, and not thanking or acknowledging Wars when he directly helped him. (Small example being walking with Hyrule not Wars when injured and not directly responding to Wars)

Wars cares about and respects Wild, but it seems Wild wants nothing to do with him, and he's been cold towards Wars for the majority of Lu. To Wild, Wars reminds him of his perceived failure. Which is valid feelings, but still not fair. And I think that ask is talking about these two.

The thing I love about this is each of them are right and wrong in some ways, leading to the tension between them. So fully blaming either of them is not logical

The rest of the chain is just vibing. Except twilight who's mad and wants them to just grow up, but. Heros of courage not wisdom @uniquevoidflowers ;)

And that ask- '''Are any of the Links ever jealous of another Link for adventures that were less difficult/life threatening?'' ''When you hear Wild say he 'hates' someone you'll have your answer.''' somewhat leads to my next point-

Wild's identity and memory issues exacerbate all of this

In Entrance, Twilight is being stressed and defensive, that's ok. What concerns me most is that Twilight has talked with Wild through stuff like this in his rough moments

Wild has tried to be formal several times- he is not very good at it

Four's face I can't didnwidkekfjej

Wild isn't and can't be 'him'- the same 'perfect' (<actually has crippling anxiety) knight he was before, and Twilight knows this. And I agree with him a bit, I think, that Wars is making things worse in Wild's mind by being that perfect soldier, and seemingly holding Wild to a standard he isn't

Wild's attempts at saluting is symbolic of that- Wars makes him feel like a failure trying to be the person he should be. But Wild shouldn't be anyone but himself.

Anyways. Fire.

Wars and Wild have issues, and I want them to work through all their relationship drama so they can reach their PEAK dynamic, which is obviously this

I mean like. We need these two to be friends

Anyways. Wild is in this constant state of identity crisis, and being around Wars has not been beneficial- neither of them is or has been showing the other the respect they deserve. Not as knights, but as people and brothers. They need a get along shirt.

All this Art is by Jojo @linkeduniverse au!

:)

[codtrashsammy]

Soft Ghoap Thoughts

Don't get me wrong, i'm a feral freak for all the dark!Ghoap content, too. ...but like... lil idiot soft boys who know they love you but also know they love each other and don't know how to use Google to properly define anything between y'all Maybe you met Johnny first and you guys just clicked and then somehow Simon showed up, and now you're all just a sweet little trio And it's not even sexual for the longest time- Simon would be far too traumatized to just go for that and Johnny has his whole manwhore persona, so he wouldn't want to risk pushing you away in the slightest. So you just casually have these two big ass military duded in your apartment (a house? In this economy?) that just casually exist with you. Simon cursing while trying to fix that leaky faucet you've had since before you even moved in, while griping and barking at Johnny to hold the flashlight steady and you're just sitting on the counter watching it all in amusement. (Simon: Bloody hell, just HOLD the thing Johnny: 'm tryin' real hard, LT, real hard Simon: You're clearly fucking NOT and really they're only doing it because of your little giggles and quips as you sit over their shoulder watching, such a pretty baby for them, just bein' around them and blessing them with your presence) Johnny with his arms wrapped around you after a bad day at work and Simon just comes over and flops down nearby like a cat who wants attention but isn't willing to ask for it- so they both just hand around and kinda comfort you, but really they just wanna touch you. You, who is so confused because one minute they're griping and bantering with each other and the next you have Johnny leaving little kisses on your cheeks with a dumb grin while Simon just happily interlocks your fingers with his when you're walking back home from the bar. Simon and Johnny both who are as obsessed and in love with each other as they are you but are too scared to put a label to it in case that's what finally scares you off and they'd rather have some of you than none of you at all. Okay, more soft thoughts coming later <3 I love these war gremlins sm

[lvlyghost]

The Things I Never Said

Pairings: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

Summary: Simon had told you he never wanted to be a dad, so when the inevitable happens you run.

Word Count: 2.2k

Tw: angst, fluff, ooc simon(? descriptions of pregnancy and panic attacks, medical inaccuracies, slightly suggestive but nothing too explicit, this isn't proofread; i think that's it?✨

A/N: omg i couldn't stop thinking about this so i had to write it! I'm just feral for dad!simon loosely connected to this bc this is where the idea came from. Hope y'all enjoy it🫰🏻💛🦄

Masterlist✨| Part 2

You're shaking by the time you're out of the bathrooms. There's no doubt. You think with slight tremble on your lower lip. It almost feels aa of the world around you is closing in. Suffocating your lungs. Your vision blurs, when you toss the pregnancy test in the trash can.

This can't be happening. Not to you.

It's not that you didn't want to have kids.

But Simon didn't.

At this point you're sobbing uncontrollably, gasping for air. It's a good thing no one comes to this part late at night. The only moment you could find peace and solace. Sliding down the wall, hiding your face in your hands. How could you let this happen? You should've been more careful.

Your mind goes back to that day when neither of you cared about the consequences. Caught up in the moment, tearing each other's clothes; eager to be together. You hadn't seen Simon in two months when he was deployed to Serbia and you had to stay behind. Being both in the military meant knowing the risks. Every time could be the last time. You heard things about that specific mission. He got injured. You remember the gnawing fear clawing at your chest. And then there he was, knocking on your door as soon as they landed. His shoulder wrapped around bandages. He kissed you hard, desperately.

Hitting the mattress with you on top of him, not wanting to hurt him anymore. The sweet things he murmured in your ears, hands intertwined as you fall apart together.

You love him.

He cares for you.

But even if he felt slightly the same way about you, it wouldn't be enough.

Simon had... traumas. A tragic story of his own. You heard him talk about it late at night when he couldn't sleep. Those demons that plagued his mind, his dreams... and you listened. That's all you could do.

Offer a hand to the man that had saved you over and over again. And somewhere along the lines you fell.

And you fell hard.

Somewhere between dark nights and shared kisses at dawn.

-

You didn't get any sleep last night.

Your mind is still spinning with the anxiety. The morning sickness that started to disrupt as soon as you woke up. Red, puffy eyes that you try to dissimulate by washing your face hoping it goes away.

You get dressed feeling devastated, knowing that you'll have to face him as soon as you enter the training room. He's in charge. The mere thought makes you want to throw up. But you leave the bedroom nonetheless. Walking down the hallway feeling your hands sweating and your ragged breathing.

When you finally open the doors you're fifteen minutes late. That alone will earn you a punishment.

It's almost as if he feels your presence, immediately finding your form when you enter, his jaw tightens. Simon doesn't like this. But as long as you're under his command you get equal treatment or else, he'd be in problems. Both, would be in problems.

"Bit late Sergeant." He grumbles, emphasizing the last word staring directly in your eyes. Ghost is perceptive and is aware that something is wrong, but doesn't comment on it... yet. "Fifty push-ups. Start sparring when you're done."

You swallow down saliva, feeling your throat constrict.

Fuck, fuck. Don't cry. Not right now.

This whole situation has you sensitive.

You start, concentrating on doing the push-ups. Hearing the distant voice of him echoing around the room, sometimes you think he's closer to where you are then he's gone, but his gaze never leaves you. It's almost sinful how good he looks in that tight green army t-shirt and cargo pants

Your arms are sore and wobbly by the time you finish. Standing up you fight a wave o nausea, closing your eyes so hard you see white dots behind your eyelids.

"You alright?" It's Kyle's hand on your shoulder what brings you back, your eyes fluttering open and find him looking at you, eyebrows slightly raised.

You give him a small smile and a nod.

"Just tired that's all. Didn't get much sleep last night." You divert your gaze where the rest are beginning to spar. "How mad is Ghost?"

Gaz chuckles.

"I wouldn't call that mad. I think he's worried. You look like shite, dear."

"Oh." You say.

Gaz prompts you to the other side to join the training. Everyone's gathered around the training mat. Soap is kicking a soldier's ass. What was his name again? You forgot.

A gentle brush on your skin and then delicate fingers wrap your arm. You freeze, Simon's feather touch sends goosebumps all over your body. You turn your face upward to acknowledge him. His deep blue eyes soften when you look at him.

"Is everything okay Sergeant?" He asks. No. He demands.

You open your mouth and then close it. That's a question you don't know yourself.

I wish. You want to say.

But nothing will ever be okay after last night.

"I... I- didn't get much sleep, Sir. That's all."

Simon sighs but doesn't insist. He just nods, accepting your answer for now, once the training is done he'd talk to you. "You're up." He instructs.

Hand to hand to combat has never been your strongest suit but you do it nonetheless. Informatics on the other hand... you're the best of the best. That's why you're here, why you're a part of the task force.

Ghost stands within your range of vision in a way that you can see that he's there even when you're fighting.

You start although you're not in your best shape. Your heart is racing but not for the adrenaline. Your mind is fuzzy and your stomach churns. The panic is starting to break loose on you. You recognize the signs. You barely dodge the man's punch, this can't be called sparring. You're merely deflecting his hits, defending yourself.

Get a fucking grip!

Soap and Gaz look at each other. Then at Ghost who's clenching his fists, looking like he's about to jump between the two and kill the man. They get ready just in case something goes sideways.

You see his fist coming to your face, you take a step back but it grazes your left cheek. Someone in the distance swears and it's enough to distract you, the next blow goes to your gut. He doesn't even hit you with full force, noticing your lack of response he refrains as much as he can but it connects with your abdomen nevertheless.

It suffocates you. Brings you to your knees spitting saliva and gasping for air. You hear the soldier's frantic apologies. You cough trying to breathe but you just can't. It hurts you.

In a quick move Ghost is kneeling beside you, eyes scanning your body for external injuries. Anything.

"Hey... hey, kid! Look at me!" He orders. You can't, mostly because you're gasping for air, coughing, and the pain in your stomach. Ghost grabs your face seeing the tears collecting in the corner of your eyes. Another wave of nausea hits you and you spit out whatever comes out of your mouth. Simon takes you in his arms lifting you and runs to the infirmary, gritting his teeth. His steps echoing in the empty hallway as he bursts the doors of the med wing open.

-

"Captain..." you greet him as soon as you walk into his office, closing the door behind you with a soft click. Price looks at you, arms crossed. The bucket hat resting on his head. He's dead serious.

"Does he know?" He interrogates with that deep voice of his. It's only been an hour since the incident. Price had to do all in his power to keep Ghost busy. It nearly costs him a limb and a punch to his face. There's only so much he can do.

"No." You murmur, looking down to your feet.

"Jesus, kid." He pinches the bridge of his nose. His head was pounding already. This wasn't good. For any of them. John had decided to turn a blind eye on the situation. As long as it didn't interfere with their duties. Now? He shakes his head. Price walks towards you, the youngest of his team and a valuable asset. You were important to him, to everyone in the 141; to Simon in a very different way. "I'm putting you on medical leave. You must take care of your health, your body. I'll see what I can do, yeah? And for the love of God, talk to Simon."

-

You don't.

And that's because you're terrified. As soon as you left Price's office you ran to your room throwing your belongings in a duffel bag. You needed time to think. Of course you'd tell Simon.

Just not right now.

The disapproving stare of the doctor was enough to make you feel bad about hiding your pregnancy from him and then your Captain. You bite your lip and head out, the taxi driver is waiting already so you hop in, wishing to get some time alone. Clear your head and then find the best way to tell Simon about this.

It's raining outside by the time you're in your apartment. You've had time to get a quick shower and take the ibuprofen for your sore body. Your hands run absentmindedly to your stomach, soothing the skin but flinching when you press too hard. You should've stayed at base and talk to him after what happened.

But you're scared of the outcome.

By this time Simon must've found out you're gone. You won't blame him if he hates you. After all you ran away from him, like a coward.

Pouring some tea on a mug you hear the sound of keys jingle, and the footsteps followed by a large shadow that towers above you. Blond hair and hard eyes contemplating you, the mask is gone...

Holy shit. You think.

The only thing that Simon finds comfort in is gone. There's something about him not hiding behind the balaclava that sets deep in your heart. As if he were baring himself to you. Not that you hadn't seen his face before; that's exactly why this is more meaningful. It's serious. He chose to show you how vulnerable you can make him.

"Why?" His stern voice sends shivers down your spine. "I went to check on you and the first thing they say is that you're gone." His lips are pressed in a thin line.

"Simon, it's not what you're thinking..."

"Then bloody tell me what is it." He seethes, taking a step closer. "Was already losing my fucking mind over that bastard hitting you and suddenly you're gone?" He shakes his head. "Had I known you weren't going to fight back..."

"I'm pregnant." You blurt out, interrupting his talk. Simon's jaw clenched, halting and freezing on his spot. "And I'm sorry I didn't come to you as soon as I found out but I was scared." Your lips quiver and you hold back a sob, but unable to do much about the tears. "I was scared to tell you because I know you never wanted any of this, I failed to you. I couldn't sleep, I was panicking and the thought of losing you... I needed time to figure out how to tell you." Simon is silent, he doesn't move nor blinks. He just stares. Memories of his time with his father flooding his mind. He never wanted kids. That's true.

Seeing you there, in front of him. Choking on your words, crying because you thought he'd abandon you like you were nothing? Bloody fucking Christ it breaks his heart. Very few things had that effect on Simon. He had made you fearful of facing this on your own. Did you think you were just his friend with benefits? Someone he'd come to whenever he wanted to get laid? Hadn't you seen the way his eyes roamed over you whenever you were around? Never fucking heard the despair in his voice when you got shot during that black ops in Afghanistan? How he seemed to loom over your presence if some pathetic muppet tried flirting with you? The nights spent in his bedroom, limbs tangled hearing you speak about your day? The mission when he finally realized he was completely and utterly fucking enamored with you?

That time he wouldn't leave your bedside because you were severely wounded and comatose?

"I am not my old man, kid." He states after a few minutes of silence. "And if it wasn't clear already, I'd do anything for you. I don't know shite about being a parent but I'll try, yeah? For you..." he clears his throat. This was as complicated for him as it was for you. "For both of you, I'll try." The words sound strange coming out of his mouth. You close the space between you and hug him, inhaling his scent. He kisses your temple while rubbing soft circles on your back. Relief washes over your body and the tears stop gradually, until it's just the two holding one another during a raging storm of feelings and nature outside.

Soon the tension, the doubts and the anxiety are replaced with reassurance and loving words.

Promises.

Things you never thought you'd hear.

[shehurtslikehell]

for some reason, pro-israel posts have been popping up on my dash so let me give some of y'all an insider perspective.

have travelled to gaza with my mother, it was not easy getting in, the israeli state restricts citizen access to hide the constant atrocities they commit there. i was continuously hassled, i took off my hijab to make entry easier and still it took three days to gain entrance. when i entered i found the city of gaza in complete and utter apartheid.

we stayed with family friends. there were constant roadblocks and security checks which no one was allowed through, one of which was outside a old man's house, forcing him to travel 10 kilometres to access the main part of town. the military presence was constant and terrifying, looking at a soldier the wrong way would cause a confrontation, one you weren't likely to come out of peacefully.

worst of all, i stood in a market place. it was me, my mother and our family friend. we wanted to try the Kibbeh at a stall and all of a sudden, the israeli military rushed the place. we cowered, we prayed, we ran. a bullet hit the wall mere inches from my head. eventually, we found shelter in the dilapidated room of a house bulldozed by the israeli government.

i will never forget this experience, it has caused me more pain and trauma than anyone will ever know and this is why the misinformation and narratives the west keep pushing vex me incredibly.

i don't like telling this story, i don't like reliving this, i don't like potentially demonising and blaming jewish people, many of whom i know do not support the occupation of palestine.

but it needs to be said: israel is a terrorist state and always has been.

forced sterilisations, rape, murder, abduction and these are only a few of the war crimes they have committed.

my heart will forever belong to palestine, to the palestinians, to al-aqsa and the dome of the rock and the olive trees and the churches.

please stand with palestine, this is not terrorism nor is it unwarranted. this is defence and an attempt at decolonisation.

from the river to the sea.

[soberpluto]

Astrology Observations - Rising Signs & Planets

Cancer rising as a parent unintentionally will tend to impose their upbringing's rules and traditions unto their household, and if these are discarded or not followed, they can get pretty upset or offended (they won't tell you this, tough), because attempting to organize and structure the life of their loved ones is one of the strongest ways to show their tenderness and care. This is especially true in routines related to food and family time.

Saturn rising, particularly in Capricorn (and to a lesser degree in the other earth signs) gives amazing bone structure, pretty teeth and refined face shape (well-sculpted cheekbones). They are likely not ones who have experienced broken bones in their childhoods. Depending on the ASC sign, Saturn here may also cause short stature and a sturdy anatomy.

Gemini risings often possess appealing and vibrant gesticulations, beautiful and elongated hands, feet and limbs, a unique tone of voice and a ridiculously contagious smile or laughter. On the flipside (sorry to say this), many of them are very good liars and tricksters, as their high intellect quickly figures out what you want to hear and see in them.

A secret us Scorpio rising folks don't what you to know is that whenever we are interested in you, our eyes will give us away rather easily. We'll hardly confess our feelings until much later, if at all, but if you feel under a microscope in our presence (if you are subject of our involuntarily eerie and soul-piercing gaze), you should know we really like you. You might as well think we hate or despise you... but it's completely the opposite!

Leo risings have gorgeous thick and voluminous hair, usually on the wavy side. They love to buy nice things that draws attention to them, as they enjoy standing out of the crowd even if they are more on the reserved or introverted side of the spectrum. They really don't mind spending their money on costly clothes, makeup or jewelry if they think that makes them more beautiful, even if it actually damages their finances. They love to select and buy gifts too!

Jupiter rising can exaggerate your rising sign's ruling body parts. For example, in Cancer: large boobs or wide thorax / in Taurus: wide and sensuous lips / in Libra: beautiful face, amazing skin and voluminous butt, etc. Unfortunately, Jupiter rising folks can also get overweight super easily.

Mercury ruling risings (including Mercury 1st house and Venus in Gemini) usually make the native look younger than they really are. They also have something really noticeable about their walk... from clumsy to swift, all styles will differ, but they will move in ways that are out of the ordinary, for some reason.

Mars ruling risings NEED some sort of intense physical activity to be balanced, if not, they can literally go crazy due to all their bottled-up anger and restless energy. That's why many of them have a knack for the military, gym or sports, not only because they are good at them, but because this eases their stress in a way nothing else can. And yes, sex is included too.

Water risings, particularly Pisces (including Neptune and Moon in 1st house/conjunct ASC) have the most mesmerizing stare. It doesn’t matter their size or form, their gaze is otherworldly, ethereal, and somehow hypnotic. Water rising souls speak through their eyes, and I’m in love with that.

A Mars rising man can be mistaken for a f*ck boy much easier than other placements, especially if they have Air or Fire in 1st house. Women with this placement have huge sex appeal too, but they tend to attract a lot of envy and rivalry from other females, as their personality is perceived as confrontational and aggressive, even if they don’t act that way. This configuration gives good results when they work with men, but not so much with women.    

Thanks for reading! 😘

Written by @soberpluto

Book readings here! https://starintuitivehealing.etsy.com

[fallenneziah]

Hello I saw your Alpha Ghost x Omega reader fics and I was wondering what if reader was an alpha and Ghost was the Omega

(If you can make reader a timber wolf and make it fluff no smut)

Aw, I love making these things. You'll get all the fluff.

Alpha!Reader x Omega!Ghost

Omega!Ghost who actually was very sheltered about telling people he was an Omega. He didn't tell anyone for a long time and went through years just to try and hide it.

Omega!Ghost who after being captured and held by Roba couldn't help seeing his body as nothing but an object, wanting to hide it more.

The generational shame that came with being an Omega and wanting to hide himself continued for many years that he was like this.

Alpha!Reader whose distinct senses and abilities made them a prime recruit for the military. Joining without incident and pushing through rank.

Omega!Ghost whose been used to hiding so long the feelings he's attempted to keep dormant deep down bubble back up slowly when he sees you.

Your capable, your strong, your scent hits his nose and it's like his knees are weak and he can't get enough.

Alpha!Reader who sees the big lieutenant and it's honestly scary to see him looming and watching you. He's an alpha probably, making sure you don't cause shit for the others.

Alpha!Reader and omega!Ghost don't get too close yet, Ghosts intense heat blockers keep most of his identity a mystery. If anyone got so close as to figure it out that was an accomplishment.

Alpha!reader who starts trying to prove themselves for the alpha watching every day.

Price can only laugh, looking over at Ghost whose watching behind the mask with the lovesick eyes of a puppy finding a new owner. "Do they know?"

"No."

Price looks back at you, flexing your hardest and trying your best to impress. "Didn't think so."

Omega!Ghost who is relishing the attention. He knows you're showing off for him, and whether he will admit it or not, he likes it. He enjoys watching you flex your muscles and show off the wolfish side of yourself.

This gander goes on for a while between the two. Ghost watches as he feels that Omega inside him purrs and leaps. Like a cat awake from a nap ready to stretch its back legs and take off.

Alpha!reader who's tired, a day of showing off to the man who won't even speak to you. They head back to their common area and whose there?

Omega!Ghost whose finding that his omega is much more prone to cuddling than he remembered. Snuggled up in a blanket watching whatever was on tv.

"Sir, lieutenant." You attempted to greet casually as you sat down. The taste of peppermint and lemon citrus. The scent makes your stomach twist and your head whip around.

Omega!Ghost who could care less hunkered in his blanket like a turtle poking his head from his shell while your instincts stir and confusion sets in.

Ghost is very used to your scent because he smelled it first. But as you smell this new smell you realize it's coming from him.

Alpha!reader who realizes the man you've wanted to impress all this time has been an omega. Which, honestly? Not a bad thing. Not at all.

Omega!Ghost smells your growing scent, looking over at you. Your scent swarms the room like a thick cloud. And you look over at him. His pupils expand and close, as if trying to resist relaxing into the presence.

Alpha!Reader who lets the scent fill the air and swarm his nose. You smell of woods, fresh dirt and the familiar smell of a mutt wet from the river.

"You think this is that easy?" He asks curiously as he flips through his book.

You watch his fluid motions, seeing the way his fingers grasp so gently at the pages. You look at his face, seeing his beautiful lashes casting over his brown eyes.

"I didn't realize I'd have to be chasing you.."

"Does that turn you off??" He asks, and looks to you briefly.

Your canines show behind a smile. You reach your hand over and rub his thigh, feeling the muscle tense under the subtle touch. "No, no it doesn't at all." You reply, moving boldly closer to him.

Omega!Ghost usually didn't let people into his space, but hell, you'd worked your ass off for it. "Mm." He replied and you snuggled up to him, your hand drifting around his lap to capture his waist. When that didn't make him move, you nuzzled his scent glands, shifting his mask and giving them an experimental lick.

Ghost jumped, his cheeks going bright red. "That's enough you- mutt."

"Ouch, Ghost... You like it."

Alpha!Reader who proceeds to gently groom Ghost. Ghost hadn't ever been groomed before. Maybe the occasions head scratches from Price but this was... So much different.

Omega!Ghost who can't help whining for your attention and affections. His resolve is slowly crumbling beneath him as your smell is the tip of the treat. He's held it off as long as he could, now he just needs the experience he's missed out on from people he can trust.

Alpha!Reader doesn't pull his mask up too high, but enough to lick and kiss around his neck and shoulders. There was no intention of lust behind them, merely to help his shoulders relax with warm, sweet lips tending to them.

Omega!Ghost who sinks into it, nuzzling against you. Every instinct in his body he'd pushed down for years over years pooling out in an instant. His trust issues scream at him, and he partly pulls away. "Keep your hands where I can see them... Mutt." He mumbled, attempting to make it clear where his line drew.

Alpha!Reader who fits him in their arms, nuzzling him. As any wolf would, you continued to groom him. "I wouldn't do anything you wouldn't want." Ghost is completely lax. Whatever you did... Fuck you did it right.

Something felt so... New. It felt like your arms were a barrier between him and everything else. Your arms kept him safe, your scent, your presence, this was safety.

Alpha!reader who watches his eyes so effortlessly flutter closed. They nudge his cheek and press a quick kiss to the mask, feeling their heart jump for joy.

"We'll take it slow ... But I think I've found what makes you tick." You chuckle, seeing him fully blissed out, getting a mere taste of what true safety feels like. After years of hiding, worrying and screaming. You've given him just a smidge of what he could have with you.

Safety and companionship.

[multifandomimagin3s]

Reader is angry at them - 141 + Los Vaqueros

Requested by Anon

mentions of sex, no actual smut, reader is gender neutral.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

His reaction would probably depend on multiple factors: why you were angry in the first place, if he's angry at you too, and how close he is to you in the first place.

If you weren't close, he probably wouldn't give a shit - if you were in the military he would probably pull rank, using his status to put you in your place should your anger towards him impair your abilities on a mission.

If you two were close, he'd probably either give you the silent treatment or would be upfront, asking you "Right, what's the fucking problem?"

If he's angry at you too, mans is stubborn as a bull.

He'd probably remove himself from your presence entirely if he gets to the point he feels physically angry - with all his past trauma, he doesn't want to risk hurting you in a fit of anger.

You'd probably have to talk to him first unless he was genuinely in the wrong, but even then he'd only truly apologise if you were genuinely hurt by what he'd said or done.

Well, apologise is a strong word in this context - you'd probably get a gruff "sorry" since he's a man of few words and doesn't like making himself vulnerable.

The make-up sex would be 10/10 - he can't verbalise what he wants to say, so he'd rather show you.

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

Less stubborn than Ghost but not by much.

If you're angry at him, he wants you to just tell him outright so you can talk it out.

If you don't tell him, then it's the silent treatment.

If he's aware that he's done something to upset you, then he is in fact quick to apologise - flowers, chocolates, the whole nine yards.

Probably would be the type to try and make you laugh when you're angry - and dammit it works nearly every time.

He's generally a happy-go-lucky guy so if he's angry at you, it would probably be over something important - like if you were on a mission together and you risked your life either to save his or another teammate's.

In which case, he wouldn't hide his feelings at all - he wears his heart on his sleeve, and tells you just how much you mean to him and how the thought of loosing you makes him feel physically sick to his stomach.

Captain John Price

Hm, I think his reactions would be interesting.

He's older and more mature, has seen some shit in his life that were more than a bit traumatising to say the least.

He's also of high ranking within the military, and is more than used to dealing with the anger of others and dishing out his own share.

Similarly to Ghost, it would all depend on how close you two were to begin with.

If you're not close and you're a lower rank than him, be prepared for months of bathroom duty, intensive training and god knows what other punishments he has up his sleeve - not in the fun way either.

If you are close, he'd probably just ask you to tell him what's bothering you - if he can fix it, consider it done. If it's something bigger, then you can talk about it, he's relatively reasonable when it comes to most things.

If he's angry at you too - he doesn't do the silent treatment and doesn't do angry outbursts either.

He's calm - so calm, it's almost unnerving.

He can voice his anger with a calm tone - it feels as if you're dancing on the edge of a knife.

If you were giving him the silent treatment, he'd leave you to it - if it went on for a long period of time, then he'd confront you because he's "too old for this shit."

The best way for you both to get your frustrations out? Sex. After not being able to talk to you for what felt like weeks, he secretly craves the intimacy.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

See I can't see him getting angry over anything minor - he's too laidback for that.

Like with Soap, if you risked your life for his on a mission, oh he would be pissed.

But he probably wouldn't tell you outright - you'd have probably gotten some choice words from Price about being reckless; "Don't let me catch you trying something like that again, you fucking muppet!"

He'd go dead silent - not to be confused with the silent treatment though, the anger is there and it isn't dormant, just bubbling up.

Would probably start his rant once you asked him if he was okay.

No, he wasn't.

He'd be pacing in his room, going on and on about how stupid it was for you to practically try and get yourself killed to save him, how the team needs you, how much he loves and cares about you, and how guilty he would feel if you did in fact die trying to save his life.

I reckon he'd start to cry out of anger, at which point you'd hug him and let him get it all out of his system.

He's not a big crier, but this wasn't just a run of the mill thing.

Please don't pull anything like that again.

Alejandro Vargas

Silent treatment? Never heard of it.

He's a passionate man through and through, so if he's angry at you then he's going to tell you. And probably loudly.

Always feels guilty if he ends up yelling at you during an argument and apologises soon after.

He too wears his heart on his sleeve - well he would but as he tells you all the time, you have his heart.

If he had it his way, he would protect you from all harm that the world could throw your way; and he sure tries to.

When you're angry at him, he'd probably try to woo you out of it - depending on what you're angry about this usually works, he can be very smooth.

Also a big fan of make-up sex - angry sex lets him release his pent up frustrations in a healthier way, and it lets him show how much he loves you.

If you tell him why you're angry at him, he'd listen; if it was over something relatively small like him leaving things lying around your apartment or him eating your leftovers, then he'd make mental notes not to do it again; if it was over something bigger, like how dangerous his job is and how he risks his life on the regular, he probably wouldn't respond well to it.

It's his job and his comrades are family to him - he doesn't plan on giving it up anytime soon, so that would be a big talk you guys would have to have.

Overall, he's a stubborn guy but he has your best interests at heart.

Rudy Parra

On the outside, he's a quiet guy.

But he's also a Sergeant Major - so it's not as if getting angry isn't in his toolkit.

If you're angry at him, he'd encourage you to just tell him, let it out - shout at him, cry, whatever you need to do, just don't go silent on him.

He's a grown man, he can take it.

When he's angry though, he's a bit of a hypocrite - he wouldn't yell at you or voice his frustrations for a while, but wouldn't go silent either.

He'd just give you this grumpy look >:(

You'd eventually be able to talk it out but he's thought through everything he wants to say about a million times in his head first.

I think make-up sex would be probably the last thing he'd be thinking of in the moment, he'd much rather just have some intimacy between you two - whether that be watching a movie together, cuddling, going out somewhere, just some time to yourselves.

If he genuinely was at fault, he'd dote on you - even more than he usually does.

He'd run you a bath, give you a massage, cook you a meal, you name it.

He doesn't like it when you're both angry at each other and aren't talking so when you're able to talk it out and make amends, he shows how his heart beats for you.

[saksukei]

simon ‘ghost’ riley and his love languages

masterlist | i think i may have wrote too much??

there’s one thing lieutenant simon ghost riley knew when he began dating you. he had to be the best version of himself or at least try. you were the only person he met that he ever wanted to try for.

i. words of affirmation

initially, simon has trouble adjusting to calling you any pet names and just calls you by your name. it isn’t until he gets comfortable enough to say, “love” which is his go to nickname. he says them only in private though.

and then it’s nicknames galore. he calls you his sunshine because he literally adores your smile so much!!! the type to say, “i brought flowers for you. they needed sunshine and you were the obvious choice.” and he also says things like, “my darling angel” when you get him a cup of tea.

most importantly, if you ever do something that’s like daunting or difficult for you or if you learn something he’s gonna say “that’s my girl, always so intelligent.” if the two of you ever hit the gym together and you hit more reps than your regular ones, he’s gonna be so happy for you. “atta girl,” he kisses your cheek as he pats your back.

ii. gifts

he wasn’t very heavy on gift giving. that was until he saw something that he knew you’d like and bought it. and the smile that graced your face with the stars in your eyes made him want to do it more often.

and he felt his heart jump when he saw you cherish the letters he’d written when he was deployed. ever since then, he’s been leaving cute little notes for you, making handmade things you’d like such as bracelets, necklaces. he knows how to sew and he sewed a cute little shirt for you. this also brings me to the fact that he likes knitting a lot and loves making mug warmers? it’s endearing really. he can also carve wood apparently? so he makes sweet little decoration pieces for your apartment. (but also lumber jack simon making me insane)

all in all, he loves giving gifts. he’s the type to make a special notebook for just you and put pressed flowers on each page. “got you something you liked, darling.”

iii. acts of service

simon’s strongest way of expressing love is through acts of service. he’s a military man and a firm believer of ‘actions speak louder than words.’ i’ve said it before that his eye for detail is insane and he uses it in the relationship as well. alongside with his ability to literally commit you to memory, he remembers everything. (except birthdays, but he’ll remember yours).

from bending down to tie your shoelaces, to refilling snacks that he knows you like, to picking up heavy stuff, to guiding you with a hand on your waist, everything really!!! can read your facial expressions like it’s the only thing he knows and can immediately figured out what you like and don’t like. “you okay?”

and god, he's also aware of the sidewalk rule! never lets you walk on the outer side. the type to place a hand on corners and edges so that you don’t get hurt. he’s always looking out for you, ensuring you don't have anything in your way. he’ll always stand behind you because he feels it gives him a better chance to protect you.

iv. quality time

such a sucker for spending time with you but that’s mainly because he knows his is limited. and he would never risk not spending another minute with you. from watching movies, to watching you do make up in front of the vanity, to reading books together, training together, having tea. he finds your presence alone to be comforting. it's like you deal with all of his inner thoughts and reservations without even knowing it.

he also enjoyed doing mundane domestic tasks with you like getting groceries, setting up ikea furniture, cooking and cleaning together, honestly he loves it all. especially if there’s some jazz music playing in the background. i can absolutely imagine rubbing a little flour on simon’s face and he’ll get so offended, chasing you around the entire house, pining you down, just to do the same to you.

v. physical touch

simon is hesitant to become physically affectionate. that's not to say that he doesn’t enjoy it, it's just that when you’ve been met with violence all your life, gentleness is hardly something you expect.

but god, did he want to melt into a puddle when you held his hand or when you pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek. he swears he forgot how to breathe. and little by little, he got comfortable. hands hesitant to be on your waist, until that's the only place you found them, his head always nuzzled in the crook of your neck. “this might just be the favorite part of my day,” he says softly.

from lacing fingers, to kissing you the first thing in the morning, once simon’s comfortable, he won’t go a day without being intimate. “c’mere give me a kiss” to “you’re my good luck charm, love.”

[tleeaves]

Having so many thoughts about how the casting of Tom Blyth as a conventionally attractive man and his changing looks throughout the film actually demonstrate how much the directors intended for him not to be thirsted over -- and what thirsting over him at this point says about the audience.

I mean, if you're given a pretty face, like Coryo is said to have also in the books, you can get away with a lot because not many people are quick to scorn you. It's the fault of Greek philosophy most likely, but it's been thought for so long that physical beauty equates moral and ethical soundness. He has beautiful, absolutely gorgeous curls in the first two parts of the movie (and book), he's explicitly described as lovely and pretty, and many of the women in his life trust him until he reveals his motivations at the end.

The removing of the curls, I think, was not just about the military. It was about removing some of that beautiful mask and costume Coryo moves through the world in, chipping away, so that people began to see just how corrupt he was when they weren't blinded by his charms and he got too caught up after thinking he had their unwavering trust.

Coryo is the games. He makes himself a mystery wrapped in pretty things, surrounded by pretty people, to lure others in and distract from the snake he is underneath. Literally from Shakespeare's Macbeth "serpent 'neath the flower" (paraphrasing, I can't remember the precise wording for underneath and what not). The presence of roses on his character is even more fitting then, not just to disguise the scent of blood, poison, and mouth sores later on, but to give people a false sense of security, to please them, to charm them so they don't notice the snake coiling around them and preparing to bite.

Just like the characters, when the audience thirsts over this younger Snow, they are falling right into a trap. He does not love, he wants the control over people. He enjoys the manipulation. He would sooner kill you to protect himself no matter if you're his lover. The directors, Collins herself too, they're laughing or perhaps just wearily sighing over an audience that does not understand when they are being targeted. Snow wants to be admired. When an audience admires him and overlooks all the bad, it's a commentary about them and the way our society favours beauty over goodness. The way some will roll over and offer their necks to the knife just because it wears a pretty face and it manipulated them into sympathising.

Snow is dangerous. The thirst traps and edits, good as they are for a handsome man like Tom Blyth, are exactly what the Capitol would do for Snow. What he would encourage in theory. He's the snake underneath the flowers. And the audience of both the games and The Hunger Games franchise, is once again ignorant to what their behaviour means. Successful manipulation of a group.

How scary would that be if it happened in real politics with slightly different methods?

[barnacles34]

Only You (Ryujin x Male Reader)

Tags: 12k, Obedient Ryujin, Smut, Smut with Plot, Mutual Pining, Reunion, Existential Crisis, Confident Protagonist, Emotional Complexity, Exploration of Idol Work Culture, Mild Alcoholism

This is kind of a prequel to Beautiful Relationship, I even wrote this one before Beautiful Relationship (thus the quality, I believe, is worse), but all my smuts (foreshadowing) are stand-alone. I tried editing this to the best of my ability, hopefully it is as well received as Beautiful Relationship.

---

The labyrinthine corridors of Samsen Company echo with the whispers of a typical blood feud, a battle for majority stock that has raged pointlessly. And yet, I stand atop this corporate Olympus, an adopted child of supposedly 'middling' potential, now orchestrating a behemoth bureaucracy from the confines of a messy, decrepit office room in my sprawling estate. The irony isn't lost on me that only the office room nearest the entrance truly feels like home.

My 26th birthday dawned, a day that should have been a personal milestone, instead became a crucible of insufferable drama. My 'brothers,' those parasitic entities I can barely stomach, the sycophantic beggars I despise, and the so-called friends whose very presence grates on my nerves – all converged like vultures to a carcass. As I extricate myself from my forcibly invaded sanctuary, I allow my gaze to drift over the manicured landscape, pointedly ignoring the fumbling private investigators who've abandoned all pretense of subtlety in their ravenous pursuit of compromising intelligence.

I exist in a state of emotional limbo – neither depressed nor elated. I've reached the zenith of my capabilities, my natural introversion honed into a weapon of corporate warfare. The room I've claimed as my citadel, locked against all intrusion, is the crucible where I forged my majority ownership of Samsen. It's my den, my haven, the only place where the cacophony of the outside world fades to a bearable whisper.

I don't venture out for something as mundane as a cigarette or to ruminate on 'innovative' ideas (a laughable concept – my success stems not from innovation but from an uncanny ability to accumulate and wield power). No, as I step beyond my threshold, my mind is a tabula rasa, momentarily free from the incessant calculations that usually occupy it. Yet, as the cool air hits my face, I find myself inadvertently delving into the labyrinth of my past, present, and the myriad potential futures stretching before me. Some intangible force, a siren call I can neither name nor resist, beckons me towards the unknown, towards a life I've never dared to imagine.

---

The memory of my adoption by Mishima, the venerable chairman of Samsen, surfaces unbidden. I was 14, newly orphaned, my parents having departed this mortal coil in quick succession. Mishima's explanation for taking me in was deceptively simple – right time (he was pushing 70), right place (his hometown), and a third reason uttered so softly it's become a lifelong enigma, a puzzle I still turn over in my mind during sleepless nights.

Our relationship defied easy categorization. He was never a father figure, more a mentor, a guiding star in the treacherous waters of corporate politics. When I aced the aptitude tests and CSAT, I put on a show of wanting to enlist in the military before settling into a cozy Samsen sinecure. But it was all smoke and mirrors, a carefully crafted lie concealing my true ambition – to ascend to the executive echelons of Samsen.

Mishima, ever the puppet master, saw through my machinations instantly. With a smile that seemed to hold the wisdom of ages, he said, "Before you become an executive, you should get better at lying in people's faces." That night, I was christened as an Executive-to-be, my position awaiting me post-military service.

But even my Machiavellian mind couldn't have predicted the earthquake that was Mishima's inheritance letter. To be named heir-apparent alongside my two 'brothers' sent shockwaves through the Eastern hemisphere. An adopted child, thrust into the limelight, my past carefully obfuscated by my new family to mask the true extent of my capabilities.

---

As the memories fade, I find myself pondering the possibility that I'm not just tired of work, but of the very fabric of my existence. I crave a distraction so profound it would eclipse even the most insufferable company. With a decision born of impulse rather than reason, I orchestrate a day of frivolity.

The following morning finds me chauffeured to a waterpark I've rented for my exclusive use. The experience proves disappointingly hollow, each splash and slide a stark reminder of the void within. Undeterred, I embark on a frenetic tour of Seoul, each new locale failing to scratch the existential itch that seems to grow with every passing moment.

---

It's in this state of restless dissatisfaction that a name bubbles up from the recesses of my memory – Ryujin. The mere thought of her sends an unfamiliar tremor through my usually imperturbable demeanor. We were inseparable once, the suburbs of Seoul our playground, our bond seemingly unbreakable. But that was before the adoption, before life carved its divergent paths for us.

Twelve years have passed, each of us climbing our respective mountains of success. Yet, as I stand before the stadium, a maelstrom of emotions I thought long buried threatens to overwhelm me. I'm almost late, almost nervous, almost... happy? The unfamiliarity of the sensation is both thrilling and terrifying.

My arrival causes the expected commotion, ripples of shock spreading through the crowd like wildfire. But for once, I find I don't care about the attention. My focus narrows to a singular purpose – watching ITZY perform. After an eternity of jostling bodies and exclamations of surprise, I'm finally ensconced in my front-row seat, an island of luxury hastily constructed amidst the chaos.

As I settle into the chair, the full weight of my nervousness becomes palpable. Every sensation is heightened – the plush fabric beneath my fingers, the unyielding rigidity of the table before me, the oppressive weight of the air in this crowded arena. My usual mask of indifference slips, revealing a vulnerability I thought I'd long since excised.

---

The performance unfolds like a fever dream, a symphony of movement and sound that both captivates and unsettles me. I watch the ITZY members with a mixture of admiration and envy – their fierce dedication to their craft, the seamless fusion of dance, visuals, and music. It's a spectacle that should fill me with satisfaction, yet I'm left with a lingering sense of disappointment. The void within remains stubbornly unfilled.

As the final notes fade and the crowd's roar subsides, I find myself rooted to my seat, mind whirling. The luxurious leather suddenly feels like a straitjacket, the weight of my position as an executive a millstone around my neck. I'm struck by the absurd thought that this gnawing emptiness might be nothing more than a placebo effect, a phantom pain born from the crucible of my nightmarish birthday and the constant strain of tolerating those I despise.

My reverie is interrupted by the approach of a man who exudes an air of exaggerated politeness. He relays an invitation to the ITZY dressing rooms with such ceremony you'd think he was delivering a royal decree. Something inside me snaps – the carefully constructed facade of the 'genius' executive crumbles, revealing the raw, emotionally stunted individual beneath. I ignore the man, my feet carrying me towards the dressing rooms of their own volition. My mind, usually a finely tuned instrument of analysis, now overclocks, dissecting every possible outcome of this impulsive action.

The journey through the backstage labyrinth is a sensory assault. The suffocating atmosphere of the stadium gives way to a cloying sweetness that grows more potent with each step. I follow this olfactory breadcrumb trail, my heart thundering in my chest with an intensity that would alarm me if I weren't so single-mindedly focused on my goal.

At last, I stand before the door. My knuckles barely graze the surface before it swings open, revealing a stunningly beautiful woman with vibrant orange hair. Her eyes widen in recognition, a mix of excitement and trepidation evident in her voice as she exclaims, "Welcome Koji-nim!"

I mumble pleasantries, feeling suddenly out of my depth as I step into the room. The ITZY members, now dressed in casual attire, bow nervously, their practiced professionalism cracking under the weight of my unexpected presence. But all of this fades to background noise as my eyes lock onto Ryujin.

She bows with a grace that belies her nervousness, her doe-like eyes carefully avoiding my intense gaze. Her black hair, still damp from the performance, frames her face in a way that speaks of careful styling even in its apparent dishevelment. Her skin, a creamy canvas that seems to glow with the lingering energy of her performance, peeks through the airy, wrinkled fabric of her clothes. The subtle interplay of concealment and revelation is mesmerizing.

I'm vaguely aware that I'm staring, my pupils dilated to the point where the other members exchange confused glances, uncertain of the sudden tension in the room. But Ryujin knows. She feels the weight of my gaze, understands the unspoken currents of our shared history.

"Ryujin," I breathe, the name a prayer and a curse on my lips.

She finally meets my eyes, a maelstrom of emotions swirling in their depths. "Koji... it's been a long time."

The air crackles with unspoken words, shared memories, and the weight of twelve years of silence. The other members watch our interaction with a mixture of confusion and fascination, sensing the undercurrents but unable to decipher their meaning.

As the initial shock wears off, we fall into a semblance of normalcy. Pleasantries are exchanged, names are shared, and I find myself being drawn into the warm camaraderie of the group. They reveal their upcoming monthly break, a respite after their grueling world tour. My limited knowledge of the K-pop world extends only to the scandals of overwork, so I find myself oddly relieved at the thought of their well-deserved rest.

The conversation meanders, touching on various topics, until it culminates in an unexpected invitation to join their world tour celebration. I accept without hesitation, surprising even myself with my eagerness.

As we make our way to the celebration venue, carefully avoiding main roads to evade the ever-present threat of paparazzi and private investigators, I find myself ruminating on the absurdity of my situation. I, Koji, possibly the busiest person in the world, yet somehow finding time for everything. The irony isn't lost on me.

The fear of private investigators that once plagued me now seems almost laughable. I've become so entrenched in South Korea's infrastructure that any move against me would be tantamount to domestic terrorism – or so the political board assures me. The thought elicits a sardonic chuckle, the absurdity of my life hitting me anew.

We arrive at our destination, a traditional building that exudes an air of quiet opulence. The owner herself greets us, leading us to a private room that seems worlds away from the bustling city outside. As we enter, the emphasis on traditional aesthetics is immediately apparent, demanding a level of respect and decorum that even I, in my usual state of detached amusement, feel compelled to honor.

We shed our shoes and take our places around the low table, sitting cross-legged on plush cushions. I note with a mixture of irritation and intrigue that while Yeji has positioned herself next to me, Ryujin sits diagonally across. The arrangement irks me more than it should, and I find myself stealing glances at Ryujin when I think she isn't looking.

The arrival of food and drink signals the start of the celebration in earnest. Soju and whiskey flow freely, the ingredients of forgetfulness laid out before us like a tempting feast. The ITZY members' eyes light up at the sight, their excitement palpable.

"Are you usually this excited to drink?" I ask, unable to keep a hint of amusement from my voice.

Yuna, the youngest, pipes up with an enthusiasm that's both endearing and slightly alarming. "Well, nothing helps the soul breathe more after months of being abroad and weeks working more hours than Elon Musk does in the office than a couple of bottles!"

The other members playfully scold her for her candor, but I find myself warming to their dynamic. Despite the obvious nervousness that still lingers beneath the surface, there's a genuineness to their interactions that I find oddly comforting.

As the night progresses and the alcohol flows, the conversation becomes more animated. We discuss our respective careers, our histories, and a myriad of other topics. I notice with a mix of professional admiration and personal concern that the ITZY members seem remarkably resistant to the effects of the alcohol, despite having consumed significantly more than I have.

It's in this atmosphere of lowered inhibitions that Ryujin finally breaks her relative silence. I've been aware of the concerned glances the other members have been throwing her way, as if her quiet demeanor is out of character.

"Did you know Koji Oppa and I were–" she begins, only to be cut off by a whispered warning from Yeji about the use of honorifics. I turn to Yeji, intending to ask for clarification, only to be struck by the intense blush coloring her cheeks. The other members, quick to pick up on the situation, begin teasing Yeji mercilessly.

Ryujin clears her throat and continues, "Did you know Koji-nim and I were childhood best friends?"

The revelation is met with surprise from the others, who look between us with newfound interest. There's a moment of hesitation, the weight of our shared history hanging in the air, before Ryujin and I begin to piece together the story of our upbringing.

As we talk, I feel a subtle shift in the atmosphere. The barrier that had existed between us – built of years of silence and divergent paths – begins to crumble. The others, sensing this change, relax into the conversation, their earlier nervousness giving way to genuine curiosity and warmth.

Yuna, emboldened by alcohol and the more relaxed mood, turns to me with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Hey sunbaenim, why are you so handsome, even though you're a chairman?"

The question catches me off guard, my usual sharp retorts failing me in the face of such unexpected forwardness. I scoff and take another bite of food, buying time as I try to formulate a response.

From the corner of my eye, I notice Ryujin glaring at Yuna, her eyebrows tied with irritation. The younger girl immediately wilts under the look, adopting a sulking posture that speaks volumes about the group's dynamics. It's fascinating to me how a single glance can convey so much between them.

As the night wears on, the effects of the alcohol become more pronounced. Soon, everyone except me is in various states of inebriation, heads lolling and arms thrown around each other as they burst into spontaneous song.

In this haze of alcohol and nostalgia, Ryujin turns to me, all pretense of formality abandoned. "Hey! Why haven't you contacted me? I used to send an endless amount of messages waiting for your response after I was done being a trainee, waiting for your response, and don't say that you changed your phone number because it's clearly the same and it even lights up your phone just now when I texted you!"

Her words, slurred but pointed, catch me off guard. For perhaps the first time in my adult life, I find myself at a loss for words. The carefully constructed walls I've built around myself suddenly feel paper-thin in the face of her raw honesty.

"I... I wanted to reinvent myself," I finally manage, the words feeling hollow even as I speak them. "To bury the past."

The effect of my words is immediate and heartbreaking. Tears well up in Ryujin's eyes, and in that moment, I'm struck by the realization of how much I must have meant to her. The thought that I, in my single-minded pursuit of success, might have caused her pain is unexpectedly distressing.

But the moment passes quickly, swept away by the infectious energy of the group. Soon, they're on their feet, performing elaborate choreographies despite their inebriated state. I watch in amazement, marveling at their skill and dedication even in such a compromised state.

As the night draws to a close, I'm faced with an unexpected dilemma. The ITZY team has departed, leaving the members without a way home. In a moment of uncharacteristic impulsivity, I decide to take them to my alternate penthouse nearby.

The journey is a comedy of errors, with me attempting to wrangle five drunk K-pop stars into my chauffeur-driven car. As we ascend in the elevator, my arms full with the most inebriated members, Yeji and Yuna, a cascade of more sensible plans floods my mind. The irony of my situation isn't lost on me. But it's too late for regrets now.

I manage to navigate each member to a separate bedroom, where they immediately succumb to exhaustion. As I close the last door, I turn to find Ryujin waiting on the couch, her eyes heavy-lidded but alert.

"Why does this home feel like it hasn't had anyone living in it at all?" she asks, her gaze sweeping across the immaculate, impersonal space.

I pause, considering my words carefully. "Because I bought these homes thinking that the bigger size would make me happy, but I just end up staying in one room all day."

Her response is immediate and cutting. "Huh... you really must be out of your mind."

I scoff, both amused and slightly stung by her blunt assessment. As I help her to the master bedroom – a decision I'll later attribute to the alcohol's influence – I'm acutely aware of the warmth of her body against mine, the subtle scent of her perfume mingling with the lingering aroma of soju.

As she settles onto the bed, her voice takes on a softer, almost vulnerable tone. "Please hug me."

The request catches me off guard. "Why?"

"Pay me back for all the years you've neglected me."

Her words hit me like a physical blow. "Didn't you stop texting me?"

"Because you ignored me for two years!" The pain in her voice is palpable. "What was I supposed to do? Text you for two more years? Would that ingrain in you the idea that I valued our friendship!?"

As she weeps silently into the luxury tapestry, her oversized button-up shirt and pantyhose creating a strangely alluring silhouette against the expensive bedcover, I'm struck by the complexity of our shared history. The years of silence, the unspoken longing, the paths that diverged only to converge again in this moment – it all comes crashing down on me.

Despite my usual aversion to physical contact, I find myself drawn to her. I climb onto the bed and wrap my arms around her from behind, inhaling her scent one last time before succumbing to exhaustion.

---

I awake alone, the lingering warmth on the sheets the only evidence of Ryujin's presence. The distant sound of clattering draws me from the room, my feet carrying me to the balcony overlooking the living room. The sight that greets me is unexpected – Ryujin in the kitchen, the air filled with the aroma of a home-cooked breakfast.

As I descend the stairs, the other members quickly apologize for their irresponsibility the night before. Their earnest attempts to make amends – cleaning the rooms, preparing breakfast, even stocking the fridge – are both touching and amusing. I find myself imagining, with a hint of sardonic humor, how these globally successful idols would fare as my personal staff.

After they leave, I savor the breakfast Ryujin prepared, each bite a reminder of a simpler time. As the day progresses, I find myself utilizing more of the penthouse than I have in years. The library, once a showpiece, becomes a sanctuary as I lose myself in classic literature. It's a luxury I'd forgotten I needed, especially after working 365 days last year and nearly every day this year. The irony of my negotiated "optional" work life isn't lost on me – even if I hadn't shown up for a decade, my position as chairman would remain secure due to my overwhelming support in the company.

At 7 PM, the doorbell's chime breaks the peaceful silence. Expecting the cleaning staff, I'm surprised to find Ryujin at the door, a hefty bag in her arms and dressed in what appears to be pajamas.

"What are you doing here, Ryujin?" I ask, unable to keep a note of curiosity from my voice.

Her response is typically direct. "We finally reunited for the first time in 12 years and we're just gonna act like that's a small thing?"

She pushes past me, her determination evident. "Let me in! Let's watch a movie and catch up some more, and don't say we already caught up... despite being drunk, I knew most of what you were saying was corpo-talk, you freaking alien."

"Ah... you crazy lady," I mutter, but there's no real annoyance in my tone.

As she makes herself at home, pulling out an array of fermented vegetables from her bag, I can't help but ask, "First of all, why?"

"Because your fridge looks sadder than a divorced and broke 50-year-old," she retorts. Then, more softly, "And because I can tell that you need a female to care for you."

The statement catches me off guard, and I find myself strangely touched by her concern. To cover my momentary vulnerability, I tease her, "What happened to yesterday's Ryujin, who was as timid as a flower and couldn't even look me in the eyes even when blasted?"

My words seem to have an unexpected effect, causing her to retreat into herself slightly. But she continues her self-appointed task, quietly arranging the vegetables and asking permission to use the fridge. As I watch her, a memory surfaces – her family's vegan kimchi, a specialty due to seafood allergies. The fact that I remember such a detail after all these years is surprising.

"Hey, I got some expensive ass whiskey," I offer, an olive branch of sorts. "Let's eat those fermented vegetables and watch a movie."

She looks at me, a hint of surprise in her eyes. "How did you know I liked whiskey?"

"Observations," I reply, allowing a small smile to play at the corners of my mouth.

Her cheeks color slightly, and she turns away, busying herself with the food. "You know, you act like you've changed and abandoned the past, yet you seem even more strikingly original. You've still got your crazy brain itching to check under every rock, your handsome face, your dark stare..." She trails off, her blush deepening. "I'll cook some side dishes, you pick out the movie."

As she cooks, we fall into a comfortable rhythm of conversation, catching up on the years we've missed. The ease with which we interact is both familiar and new, a testament to the strength of our childhood bond and the people we've become.

Later, as we settle on the couch to watch "Chungking Express," Ryujin begins to lean into me, her body warm against my side. Without thinking, I wrap an arm around her shoulders, and she nestles into the crook of my neck.

The sensation is intoxicating. I find myself more aware of her presence than the movie, the scent of her hair – clean and floral – filling my senses. As the film progresses, I realize that neither of us is paying much attention to the screen.

When the credits roll, Ryujin's cheeks are flushed, and she avoids my gaze. "Why do you always look at people like you're going to kill them?" she blurts out.

"I know you like it," I reply, my voice low and teasing.

Her reaction – a mix of embarrassment and pleasure – is endearing. As she gets up to clear the dishes, I compliment her cooking. Her soft "Thank you" is barely audible, but the pleasure in her voice is unmistakable.

"Well, is there anything else you want to do?" I ask as she returns.

"Can we sleep in your bed for just a bit?" Her request is tentative, almost shy.

"Why?"

"Just a bit tired from the whiskey."

I can tell she's not being entirely truthful, but I find I don't mind. "Sure," I agree, surprising myself with how easily I acquiesce.

As we settle into bed, I hold her close, careful to maintain a respectful distance between our lower bodies. The warmth of her presence, the soft rhythm of her breathing, lulls me into a state of contentment I haven't experienced in years.

"Koji," she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah?"

"Have you had girls here on this bed before?"

The question hangs in the air, heavy with implication. I consider deflecting, but something about the moment – the darkness, the intimacy, the years of unspoken feelings between us – compels me towards honesty.

"Yes," I admit, "but not out of my own volition. A bunch of executives wanted better odds of staying with the company by forcing me to lay with their daughters before I was chairman..." I pause, the memories leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. "Those nights were some of the worst."

I feel Ryujin stiffen slightly in my arms, then relax. Her hand finds mine in the darkness, intertwining our fingers. No words are spoken, but in that gesture, I feel a wealth of understanding, forgiveness, and something deeper that neither of us is ready to name.

As we drift off to sleep, I'm struck by the realization that for the first time in years, I feel truly at peace. The void that I've been trying to fill with work, with success, with material possessions – it seems less daunting with Ryujin by my side. And as consciousness fades, I allow myself to hope that maybe, just maybe, this is the start of something new, something real, something that even I, with all my power and influence, couldn't have engineered.

"Whore," she said abruptly, her voice laced with a mixture of hurt and playfulness.

The word hung in the air for a moment, its weight palpable. I felt a surge of conflicting emotions - amusement, indignation, and a strange sense of relief at her ability to joke about such a sensitive topic.

"Huh!? You little brat," I growled, my voice a low rumble. I took advantage of my growing stubble, mercilessly rubbing my chin against the soft skin at the back of her neck. The prickly sensation elicited an immediate response.

"Why does that actually hurt!?" Ryujin squealed, her body squirming as she tried to escape my assault. Her laughter, barely contained, filled the room with a warmth I hadn't realized was missing.

Eventually, our playful struggle subsided, giving way to a companionable silence. We lay there, the quiet punctuated only by our soft breaths, gradually drifting into a deep slumber. It was, I realized as consciousness faded, the second-best sleep I'd ever experienced.

When I next opened my eyes, disorientation set in. The familiar contours of my bedroom slowly came into focus as I processed the situation. Ryujin was still asleep, her arm draped possessively over mine, maintaining our embrace even in sleep. A glance at the clock jolted me fully awake - we had slept for over 19 hours. The realization hit me like a bucket of cold water. Were we hibernating?

My sudden movement disturbed Ryujin, a light sleeper apparently. Her eyes fluttered open, confusion giving way to surprise as she registered my agitated state.

I hastily explained our unexpected time skip, watching as understanding dawned on her face. Without a word, she sprang up and made a beeline for the restroom. Her urgency puzzled me.

"What's up?" I called after her, my voice still rough with sleep.

"I don't know why we slept for so long," she replied, her voice muffled through the bathroom door, "but I wanted today for us to hang out at this chic bar that's also a library."

The concept piqued my interest, but practicality reared its head. "We'll just get swarmed."

"It's only for celebrities, or is only known by celebrities," she countered, emerging from the bathroom looking refreshed.

"Well... very well then," I conceded, unable to resist the allure of a library, even one doubling as a bar.

As we went about our morning routine, standing side by side at the twin sinks, a wave of nostalgia washed over me. The familiarity of the moment, reminiscent of our childhood when we were inseparable, stirred something within me - a mix of comfort and unease.

Seeking to dispel the suddenly overwhelming emotions, I asked, "Do you have any errands today?" The question came out more brusque than I'd intended, a thinly veiled attempt at creating distance.

Ryujin's response was immediate, her face clouding over with a scowl. "Can't we just be together for a bit? It was the hardest thing being away from you for 12 years, the only reason I was able to tolerate it was because of how overworked I was, and after 12 years you want to leave me again?"

Her words, raw with honesty, struck a chord. Before I could formulate a response, she crossed the hallway in quick strides, enveloping me in a tight embrace. The desperation in her grip spoke volumes.

As I stood there, my arms slowly coming up to return her embrace, I realized she was right. Despite my ingrained tendency to maintain emotional distance, I found myself wanting to be with her too. The admission, even if only to myself, was both terrifying and exhilarating.

We arrived at the bar via what Ryujin jokingly referred to as the "celebrity tunnel network," her expertise in navigating this hidden world both impressive and slightly disconcerting. As we entered, I was struck by the bar's understated charm. It was almost run-down, yet appealingly so - homely in a way that spoke of comfort rather than luxury. I could see why it would appeal to celebrities missing their hometowns, a retreat from the glitz and glamour of their public lives.

"Well, how is it?" Ryujin asked, a hint of anxiety in her voice as she awaited my verdict.

"Pretty damn nice," I admitted, allowing a small smile to play at the corners of my mouth.

Her face lit up at my approval. "Let's go and have some fun!" she exclaimed, her enthusiasm infectious.

What followed was almost dreamlike in its intensity. We played games, drank, ate, sulked, and cheered. Through it all, our focus remained solely on each other, the celebrities around us fading into inconsequential background noise.

"Your neurotic brain didn't expect this much fun, did it? It might faint and die!" Ryujin teased, her laughter echoing as she darted between the massive bookshelves.

"Aish, you little brat!" I called after her, giving chase through the labyrinth of literature.

We ended up nestled between the library shelves, surrounded by the comforting smell of old books and polished wood. The atmosphere was thick with silence, broken only by the soft rustle of pages and our quiet breathing. As we searched for classics, Ryujin naturally assumed her position, her head resting in the crook of my neck. The familiarity of the gesture, the warmth of her body against mine, sent a jolt of electricity through me.

Overwhelmed by the sudden rush of emotion, I gently motioned for us to separate slightly. As I created a small distance between us, my eyes were drawn to her, really seeing her perhaps for the first time since our reunion.

Her jet-black hair, styled to perfection, complemented her subtle yet striking makeup. The black silk dress she wore, flowing to the floor, was a stark contrast to her usual casual attire, highlighting the dichotomy of her public and private personas. Her low heels accentuated her pedicured feet, a small detail that spoke volumes about the care she put into her appearance.

As I gazed at her, I was struck by the realization that nobody else would understand the depth of her character - the caring soul hidden beneath the exterior of a femme fatale. This knowledge, this intimate understanding of who she truly was, felt like a precious secret shared between us.

The longer I looked, the more entranced I became, not just by her physical beauty, but by the beauty of her soul that shone through her eyes. Those eyes, now wide with an emotion I couldn't quite name, met mine. In that moment, we needed no words. Our connection, forged in childhood and tempered by years of separation, spoke volumes in the silence.

As we stood there, surrounded by the whispers of countless stories contained in the books around us, I felt a shift in our relationship. The boundaries we had carefully maintained, the walls we had built over years of separation, began to crumble. In their place, something new and fragile was taking root - a connection deeper and more profound than anything I had experienced before.

The realization was both exhilarating and terrifying. For someone who had spent years cultivating an image of cold, calculated success, the depth of emotion I felt for Ryujin was unprecedented. It threatened to upend the carefully constructed world I had built for myself.

Yet, as I stood there, lost in the depths of her gaze, I found I didn't care. For once, the ever-present voice in my head - the one constantly strategizing, analyzing, planning - was silent. In its place was a quiet certainty that this, whatever it was blossoming between us, was worth any risk.

As if reading my thoughts, Ryujin's lips curved into a soft smile. Her hand found mine, our fingers intertwining with a familiarity that belied our years apart. In that moment, surrounded by the accumulated wisdom of generations contained in the books around us, we began to write a new chapter in our own story.

The deafeningly silent row became our tunnel towards each other. And, my lips crashed into hers. I pinned her to the solid shelf, which I made sure to push with increasing strength to test its integrity before, she took everything with gratitude, her lips moved slower, savoring each moment, my lips moved faster, trying to devour her, increasingly pressing into her silky mouth. 

My entire body pressed against her, and even her little heels didn’t help much in reaching me, she was standing on her tiptoes. Her body pressed against mine, the silken feeling arousing both of us every second, I grasped for more and more, tightening my grip on her, the softness of her thighs obvious through the silk dress, and even more so when I passed my hands under her dress, desperately clamping on her thighs. 

Little breaths of air were the only moments we could stay away from each other at that moment, her meek moans against my mouth were utter bliss, the gentle exhales adding heat betwixt our faces, my hips slowly grinded into her, the heat of my erection pressed against her body, the feeling almost like there wasn’t any cloth between us, leaving her mewling on my lips, each moment of my hips bringing out a deeper moan out of her mouth. We kissed each other with occasional eye contact, the kiss wasn’t enough, I needed to stare into her beautiful eyes, engorging on her, conquering her state of mind. 

Our passion grew only larger, I grabbed hold of everything, her exposed milky thighs surrendering to the shape of my grasp. My hands slid on the side of her body, I grasped tightly, akin to a bear hug under her shoulders, yet her body still submitted, syncing the body rolls in pleasure. Grinding deeper into her, letting my tongue trail against her mouth deeper. And, There was a sudden jolt, and a much loader moan left her mouth, her whole body shook and I held her tighter, her lips left mine with trails of saliva to slowly moan into my mouth, she was driving me fucking crazy.

As she caught her breath, our makeout session resumed, this time I held her up as she straddled me, leading to our groins rubbing even more intensively. The only thing separating our genitals were 3 layers of clothing that were already soaked in her essence. The pain of keeping an erection in my pants soon became apparent, yet it was probably the smallest thing in the world compared to kissing Ryujin. The static of the books slightly picked strands of her hair off, the increasing static of our ministrations gathering the attention of even inanimate objects, for our passion was so great. Her neck divulged, surrendered to the cupping of my hands, her head relayed and followed the motions of our cuddling. 

The pleasure strained her face so beautifully, the knotting of her eyebrows, the irritated wrinkles of pleasure. 

“Oh my go-god…” she exhaled beautifully into my face as she stared intently, “I never expected my first time to be in a public library.”

“This isn’t your first time, this is your introduction, dear, I’ll find a space where I’ll send you to heaven.” I replied.

Her face knotted with a joking disapproval, with a slight hint of anticipation of what could be. 

A beautiful cornucopia existed in our ecosystem, a beautiful quietness mixed with the groans of pleasure. The deeper I went, the more she accommodated, and yet I felt a slight hinge, a hint that she was overstimulated.

I paused, quietly prodding at what could the irritation be.

She had nearly lost her voice, raspy and soft, she said,“I’m so sorry, I’m so sensitive that any more action would probably make me pass out”

Such a gentle and kindred soul, you smirked, giving a peck on her lips one last time before you lowered her on her bare feet because the small heels had slipped off as she straddled you. Even without heels, her legs were jelly, and she fell down like a doe. 

She glanced back and laughed. 

She used her arms to hold on to me as we exited the building and into the car.

She broke the warm but not awkward silence to say, “Koji, could you drop me off at [X]? I promised to do something today and I’m about 3 hours late…”

I looked at her dumbfounded, “what about your bag?”

“Keep it there… You don’t just want to end it off here right?”

There was silent confirmation in both parties.

“Well… what about your dress? It’s soaked”, it was basically her entire lower half part of the dress that was damp.

Her cheeks grew bright red, “pervert… let’s grab some clothes fast at a store.”

The day merrily went by as we both said our heart-felt goodbyes. 

—---

 A day later,  several epiphanies were realized within the octane of haphazard thinking I was ‘famous’ for:

First, that I really didn’t need to work much at the company at all, I had set myself up such that any more action would be diminishing on both the company and me.

Second, I was bored as hell, entering some scholarly professorship under my own authority helped stave it off somewhat.

Third, my loins grew hot whenever I thought of Ryujin.

-----

Ryujin had been busy with friendly and familial commitments that she made prior to going on an escapade with Koji, if she could, she would’ve canceled all of them in a heartbeat. Holidays for Ryujin or any idol is usually heavier than many jobs, like a veteran in Vietnam, beaten up, broken but still itching for a little more. Though Ryujin was doing better than most idols, she was a finalist for the national math olympiad, an accomplished essayist in her school, these other facets of her life threatened the utter subservience many agencies demanded, to be like IBM white shirts whose entire life molded into IBM was the fate of many idols.

After 2 straight days of commitments later, she finally embraced the cold warmth of her bed at midnight. And her entire mind was only of Koji. Her brain was etched with the intense moment they shared in that library, their desires being unleashed on each other in such an unsuitable place, maybe if it was more suitable, perhaps they would’ve gone farther?

This thought shook Ryujin, goosebumps over her body and her loins grew heated. Her moans were soft against the fabric of her pillow, and she quietly whispered his name with eyes closed and euphoria bloomed in her mind. Her face knotted with pleasure, with imagination ablaze in her cranium. Her embarrassed thoughts of being brought to climax within just a minute or two were overridden by her desire for him. A warm wetness grew in her until she stopped breathing, her mouth agape, slowly pouring out a warm moan.

She silently uttered, in a low tenor: “I miss him…” splayed out on the bed, in the afterglow of her orgasm.

She probably cannot go without Koji for another day.

After her climax, she debated on whether to message Koji first, thinking that she could be a burden on the budding multi-billionaire. Well, not really, she didn’t care as long as she got to text Koji. Koji was at home, engaging in his self-study in deep work, yet jumped like a gun when a unique ringtone buzzed, opposed to his corpo chat ring that he could care less about.  

She finally finished her arrangements and this time Koji wanted to come over. 

Koji texted, “I would’ve come over if not for the fact that you’re surveilled 24/7”

“Haha, come on, our group is 5 years old, I would jumped off the building if I had to share a studio with someone ever again”, she was beaming with sunshine at the phone, kicking her legs in the air as she felt the conversation turned to her favor, being that he would come over.

“Send me your address ASAP”

“Why do you send texts like a corpo robot hahaha”

“You’ll rue this day”

“I’ll be looking forward to it ;)”

They enjoyed each other’s dry humor, one that developed and grew over the years, making their jokes and interactions even more cohesive to one another. Finally after some banter, they both said their good nights, exhaustedly, Ryujin lightly phased into sleep as Koji stared into the ceiling for hours before sleeping.

Ryujin prepared for the noon meeting by cooking a bunch of meals, especially foods that didn’t use much oil to cook, remembering his intolerance of frying oil. Ryujin predicted that Koji would be absurdly early, so her prep began as early as 8 am; picking out the undergarments, faintly blushing at the idea of both of them going past the line; and cleaning the home until it was spotless. 

Koji was usually conservative with what type of car he drove in public. Yet, this time he sped across Seoul with the Bugatti to not only come early, but to buy gifts for the first time he’s visiting her home, it’s been only 2 days and he missed her whisker smile. Koji entered a luxury pawn shop that had a collection of random goods. He bought a vinyl player, radiohead vinyl disks, and a golden necklace dating back to the 1500s restored near perfectly. He would’ve bought more if he could, but the sudden decision to bring the bugatti out severely hampered his carrying capacity. And so, he carried the goods through the street, and despite shopping around for about 20 minutes, the street was full of people. He gripped his thigh and sped down the road with the loud revs of a matador, it was bound to be a social media spectacle within the hour, he couldn’t care less. 

At 10:45 he arrived at Ryujin’s specified address, and he was quite taken aback by how early he came. Though, now that he arrived, it would be a waste to wait until 12.

So, a knock came on the door. Ryujin was startled, if this was Koji then old habits truly died hard, notoriously giving her family a hard time with how he perceived time. Her flip flops smacked against her heel as she approached the door and slowly opened it, embarrassed about how she was dressed currently.

Koji quickly peered in and took her appearance in, his mouth slowly went agape.

A pink oversized t-shirt, very short shorts, flip flops, and an elegantly promiscuous anklet.

A premature silence arose, she was gorgeous, a close description of her was impossible, a more esoteric description is more suitable: it was as if god molded Ryujin as her passion project, the objective beauty overwhelming, subjective beauty incomprehensible. “Are you gonna keep staring me down and up?”, she giggled with a red tint in her cheeks.

“Oh right, well I brought some gifts since I was visiting your home for the first time”.

“Oh come on! You’re making me look bad, I should’ve brought gifts.”

“To be fair, I am basically the richest man in the world.”

She scowled at him with a slight smile and took a look at the gifts.

She really seemed so happy, fiddling with the items she got, observing them as they sprawled in her thin arms.

“Well, come on in, even though you’re about an hour and 15 minutes EARLY.” She said with a raised eyebrow, as if it was some habit of mine.

“Events lead to another, well come on, introduce me to your home.”

After an introduction and a delicious lunch, “how the hell is this food so good?” her whisker-smile appeared yet again. Koji wasn’t lying, the food was delicious more so than michelin restaurants and their opulent blandness. Perhaps, the taste is enhanced with the warm stare of Ryujin, the bare-faced beauty, in her home-attire, as if this was their ordinary life.

Ryujin asked, “Actually, I never asked you this, but how did you acquire all that wealth?” She was lightly pecking at the food with her metal chopsticks, the slight pinging sounds enthused her question with a more casual tone. It was one of Koji’s favorite questions because it encapsulated the essence of his preparation. 

After about 20 minutes of Koji rambling about his strategies and mathematical approach as an executive, Ryujin said, “damn, you’re a geek”, despite listening wide-eyed with utmost attention.

“You were a geek too, if you didn’t dance you would be the geek of the century! You were reading Kafka at the age of 11, come on!” Koji blurted out, with intense resolve, knowing how much of a geek Ryujin was.

“Well I don’t know, I don’t remember anything from that book. Honestly, I might’ve just pretended to read it because you liked those types of books.” She slightly shuffled in her seat, with her head down as if she wanted to hide from embarrassment at her sudden confession.

Koji laughed harder, somehow, Ryujin just eased his burdens, well his incomprehensible burdens that turned him into a corporate robot.

No amount of conversation satiated their fascination for each other, perhaps the many years they spent apart had deepened their resolve to stick together. 

Ryujin replied, wanting to switch to a different topic, “It seems like you really love your job huh… I thought being an idol was about dancing and singing, and then I was exposed to all the media training, political affiliations, customs, surveillance, and it’s kind of fizzling out, well, until I met you…” her ramble always  amuses Koji to no end.

“Well I would say my job was pretty average, there was never any strong emotions I felt, I felt completely normal leveraging a trade of 50 million dollars that would’ve threatened the entire liquidity of the company, and sometimes I don’t even understand how I became the chairman, it all seems like a coincidence to me.” 

Ryujin, amused with his naivety of his success, replied, “Well you know as Seneca said..”

Koji suddenly remembered the quote that Ryujin was about to say, and cut in together, “Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity.”

Koji interjected again, “I don’t know. Shit. I don’t even know if I was conscious at the age of 14.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit.” Ryujin softly said, almost a slight vibration of her low tone. 

They maintained eye contact, it was endlessly romantic, they fit in so well, a two-piece puzzle in which the two pieces endlessly complex fit on every level of complexity.

There was a trickle of silence, not awkward, no no… they shared each other’s melancholy, sauntering on each other’s presence, needing not a single word to continue enjoying each other's presence. 

Ryujin interrupted the most beautiful silence with her beautiful voice as Koji’s eyes dug into her, “what are you looking at? Loser…”, it was an automatic response, and he didn’t register it, knowing that his stare softens her up quickly. 

“I hope you know that I would conquer the stars for you.”

“What the hell does that even mean?!” A bright flush invaded her bare face, the redness of her embarrassment was adorably apparent when she had no make-up. Still, she tried to maintain the facade of the forcefully-applied girl-boss attitude.

Yet, all those mechanisms built from relentless training and practice wilted under Koji, she was a doe in front of a spotlight, all survival instincts forgotten. Yet, it was addicting for Ryujin, the most unfamiliar territory of her life.

“You know I’m really hard to understand right?” she blurted.

It had been 12 years, after all.

But, Koji replied, “Really?”

And Koji swiftly grabbed the nape of her neck and immediately pulled her in for a kiss. She was shocked, her eyes were wide with shock and yet, her eyes slowly closed, her wispy eyelashes fluttered under the glow of the euphoric makeout and her first breathy moan escaped through her. And suddenly everything felt insignificant, the air heavy and dense with the erotic sounds of kissing. 

Koji picked Ryujin up with just one arm and clearing the way with his other arm, she squealed at the surprise, “How can you pick me up so easily?” she said breathlessly after kissing, staring into Koji’s eyes, “Well you’re like 40kg, come on.” As he grasped her ass for the first time earning a squeal from her. 

He dropped her onto the large couch, he held the small of her back supporting their makeout session, the peaks of her nipples were teasing him through her t-shirt, her lower body was luridly seeking his stimulation. “It seems both of us read each other exactly”, as he released the kiss to dig into the side of her neck, despite the rapid escalation, they fit so naturally, read each other so naturally and knew that they only lusted for each other. “I’ve wanted this from the second I saw you,” she confessed breathlessly against the onslaught of pleasure, “I’ve wanted to experience this lurid love-making only with you.” She always managed to say the right words, the ruthless perpendicularity of Ryujin compared to the other girls turned Koji on only more.

While Koji was buried into her body, Ryujin naturally broke down, she caressed him, hugged him, and slowly rocked against him, her natural response was his natural stimulant. He rocked against her body with a firm grasp on her creamy white ass only getting more affection from Ryujin. “Ah, you are so good, so good, I’m so turned on” she breathlessly said, trying to catch her breath and mouthing her enjoyment. “Worship me”, Koji blurted out, softly moving the pliant hair out of her face, and without specifying any further, the positions naturally changed. 

Ryujin rapidly kneeled on the carpet, and spread her hands around his thighs with unbroken eye contact, she was seduced, she was over the moon, and so was Koji. She kissed and tongued at almost every square inch of his legs, going down to his shins, with her kneeled down, it drove both of them crazy, she truly worshiped Koji. Koji slightly pulled Ryujin off by grasping her hair, and she stared into him intensely with lust and bit her lips with obscene arousal, and then he released her. Ryujin Licked the inside of his thighs, going all the way to his boxers, and slowly grasping the elastic boxers to slowly pull them down. 

Ryujin had almost climaxed just like before with only kissing and foreplay. And when she saw his cock, her arousal skyrocketed. It had happened, it was inconceivable for the friendship to go back to what it was, and now it would be truly and utterly impossible. The last layer of our inseparable friendship unveiled a truly new layer, a new layer that could change them forever.

With the uncertain conclusion in her mind, she took him in her mouth. Koji gasped hot air while looking at the ceiling, and went to maintain eye contact while she slowly sucked on his length. She sucked so seductively, her eyes still boring into you with lust. It was her first time doing this yet her learning rate accelerated, getting notions from the slight knotting of Koji’s face.

“Is this right Oppa?” Ryujin said, with a smile on her face, her lips a little swollen from all the pressure and sucking. 

“It’s very right, baby, just try to reduce scraping your teeth against my dick.” Koji rubbed Ryujin’s nape softly, massaging the smoothness of her skin.

She took the guide gladly, layering her mouth over her teeth, vacuuming her mouth, maximizing pleasure. She took him out of her mouth whenever she felt like she was breathless and slapped it against her tongue. She stared at his cock, it was glistening with her spit and several strands were still there, and she said slurredly, “I just came from sucking your dick, you know that’s how long I’ve wanted this right?” Koji quickly grabbed hold her hair, tighter this time, slightly pulling, a small squeal at the pull escaped Ryujin, “take off your fucking t-shirt” with the raspiness of arousal, Koji’s grip on Ryujin gave her endless pleasure, and the near-growl of Koji caused a vibration of pleasure within Ryujin. She stared intently at Koji as she pulled off her t-shirt, that still had the sloppiness of her amateur attempt, it didn’t matter, experience didn’t matter in love-making.

The breasts of aphrodite, the pinnacle of beauty, supple white boobs with pink nipples, he was going crazy. She quickly got back to work on his dick, and her pink nipples grazed his shin as she made a mess on his crotch. It was obvious that she was fingering herself throughout this, clearly enjoying this debauchery. 

Koji began shoving her on his dick, and she slowly gargled, trying crisis control by dragging out her gargle to make it seem like it was a random noise. Koji chuckled and shoved her even deeper, Ryujin slowly adapted and didn’t need as much time to breathe, the wall of maximality slowly easing deeper and deeper into her mouth, doing it as she upended Koji’s entire life during fellatio. 

She loved it, in her cozy but well-off apartment, with the bright sun peeking through the curtains. She held hands with Koji as she sucked him off. There was a beautiful life that they had envisioned, unburdened by any sort of dubious adoption, unburdened by the expectations of the previous generation. Doing what they enjoyed only, which currently was the love they expressed for each other. Slowly, Koji eased Ryujin’s moving head, pulling her off to signal the end of the session, she released his cock with a low pop. Ryujin’s nervous obedience was apparent, she nuzzled into the hand of warmth to distract her of what was bound to happen, nuzzling deeper into the hand of Koji’s that held her jaw. 

Koji stared warmly and immediately picked her up, she yelped; he asked, “uhhh…. Which one’s your bedroom?” This ridiculous moment just reminded both of them of how ridiculous this situation was, but they weren’t gonna do anything to stop it. He threw Ryujin on the bed, and she relished the situation. Before he got onto the bed with her though, Ryujin slowly planted one foot on her chest. “Why am I bareback about to be violated on my bed and the culprit is suited up like he’s about to go to work in 10 minutes?” Koji tore his button up in an instant, buttons flew everywhere.

He slithered on to her, pinning her to the bed, each hand trapped under the weight of Koji, missionary style. Now that he was closer, she began her onslaught of affection, despite being literally chained under his striating arms. And there they were, Ryujin, a goddess, slowly being dominated by the love of her life. “I’m so wet, please just fuck me… I don’t have a condom but it’s my safe day (she lied)”, and he knew she lied but he didn’t care, not even Koji could resist the dopaminergic onslaught this situation caused.

The brush of their abdomens raised both their hairs, Koji’s hard abs, Ryujin’s slick abdomen both sculpted to streamlined perfection. Koji pushed off the bed, kneeling and palmed his dick, slowly lining up to her entrance. Her folds were wet to the touch and so tender, a few soft taps ensued on her pussy, each causing Ryujin to spasm in surprise

“Is it going to hurt?” She asked questioningly, with not a single intention to stop the action, just wanting affirmation from Koji.

He cupped her face, and kissed her forehead, then her nose, then her mouth, he avoided the question effectively, granting her the affirmation she needed. They were burning up in arousal.

And he slowly pushed in as Ryujin held onto him to steady him, but really it would do nothing, his athlete frame would overpower anything Ryujin tried to do. And as he slowly pushed in, a hard resistance was met, a loud cry definitely signaled something wrong, ah, he forgot she was a virgin. “Just keep going!” She said as she faced to the side to hide her face and bite into the blanket in case any more pain flustered her.

Koji whispered warm apologies into her ear, massaging a side of her shoulder as he slowly pushed in, even slower, even more sensually.

“It hurts…” Ryujin whined against the blanket.

“Want me to take it out?” 

“No… keep going…” she said in an even quieter tone, still managing to be bratty even in her compromised position.

—--

“Holy fucking shit” I blurt as I slowly enter her pussy, a unbelievable softness, a vacuum of pulling, a stone wall of resistance, all contradictions yet the closest description to the glory of her her best kept secret.I use one hand to pull Ryujin’s face to meet mine as I slowly entered and murmured sweet nothings in her face. She was melting, and I could feel it on my crotch. I slowly entered even slower than before and it still almost seemed too much for little Ryujin. 

The scrunch of the nose slowly morphed into a deep moan as I finally settled inside her, and then hugged her, letting the bristles of our goosebumps meet. She was kissing the side of my face as I was meticulously boring into her, moving faster this time. 

Everything was sticky, misty, uncomfortable, the blanket was a little too hot, a little too invasive, the uneven bedding; none of that mattered when Ryujin was moaning softly right in your ear and trying to kiss you. Fuck the future, fuck the past, fuck anything that isn’t with you and Ryujin right now, what matters right now is that I make sure that she enjoys what she has desired for so long.

I get up from hugging her in missionary to kneeling upright, the heat of her chest missing from my chest slowly disheartening both of us. Yet, I thrust in her harder, my dick in her pussy, slick with her love, her everything, and she was rewarded as such, though she wasn’t the only one enjoying it, this was fucking mutual euphoria.

Her head was cushioned into a comically large pillow and her head was being buried in there from my thrusts, she moaned so happily, so beautifully, she was a walking goddess. The Striations of my muscles bulged in random places, full of oxygenated blood, I was slightly red all over. She seemed truly worried, for all she could muster anyway, getting pounded into the bed and opening her eyes any millisecond she could get from me pounding into her. 

I am obsessive in nature, neurotic, and for all the care I tried to muster, I seemed to blow it all away. Seemingly increasing the speed, the knotting of her face clearly showing the orders I forgot to pass in order to get to this speed. Yet she held my forearms, the arms that held her waist down, that made her pussy gum on my cock continuously, getting her essence all over the bed; yet somehow I had been controlled, the softness of her palms slowed my addiction to her pussy, the addiction to her soul, her love, was greater.

The intensity of her pleasure grew further, I loved it. She was speechless, unable to process her pleasure, unable to laugh or scowl, with only moans leaving her mouth. I pressed my 4 fingers just over the pubis bone, and the thumb over her clit, pushing the 4 fingers deep and thumbing at her clit. And the first pump into her showed just how effective this was, she suddenly opened her eyes and immediately came on my dick.

“Oh! Fuck! Oh my gooo….” Her head instinctually pulled upwards, in foreign lands of her orgasm being in utter gridlock under my rule. She could do nothing, yet she could do everything, the slight palming of her hands, the sweet moans, the low tone could get me to do anything, any-fucking-thing.

I kept pumping until she started shaking and I slowly stopped, grinning at her novice submission.

“Holy shit, oh my god, what the hell was that?”, she was panting with love juices all over her body, glistening in the orange sunset. Pressing her forearms over her forehead to ruminate just on what happened. 

I replied, “we have been at it till sunset”, I locked eyes with her, “but we’ve got years to catch up on”, and I flipped her over in a sunken doggystyle position, earning a squeal, a mixed reaction, she knew we had years to catch up on, and this was only a day’s worth, what could be next worried her slightly. She resolved her mind on it though.

She grabbed onto my forearm with affection and consent for me to ravage her behind until she couldn’t think anymore, to think this girl acts like a punk on national tv only amuses me more. And then the sight brought me back to the bed, her legs tucked between my legs, my dick hovering over her creamy white ass, it was obvious she was waiting for any kind of friction, she had her head down facing into the cover in some adorable way waiting for me to pummel her.

But this time, I wanted to savor it. I wrapped my hand in one of her elastic asscheeks and squeezed until a handprint formed, then slapped it.

She screamed into the cover, though she may be obedient, she makes it known when she doesn’t like something and this is not one of them. 

I slowly descend on her, and she jumps a bit feeling the encroaching presence, too turned on to act nonchalant. I wrap my hands around her waist, and somehow my fingers almost touch each other, I bit my knuckle trying not to devour her right this second, try not to destroy this piece of god’s work. I slowly entered inside her this time, and again, utter bliss, she finally took her face off the cover and moaned seductively at me, I dropped down to kiss her while I fucked her inside out.

“You are god’s work, little princess” I whispered into her ear, with a soft grasp on her goosebump-ridden neck, her eyes looked up in arousal, her mouth opened wider, accommodating the lower moans.

Her ass stuck out accommodating my exchange with our genitals, I held one hand around her clit and g-spot area to try to stimulate both, slight grazes were applied, but not much thinking was going on, as I held Ryujin’s chin and kissed her while witnessing her 3rd orgasm, she moaned with extra saliva in her mouth, I saw her mouth crane open in pleasure, strands of our love spreading over the pillow. She was absolutely feral.

I was even rougher with my treatment the next turn around, I entered harder, held her chin harder, stimulated the clit harder. This made her orgasm a 4th time, this time she really needed a break, breaking the kiss to lay down, then the pinnacle of our sex crazed session was revealed to us, we fell onto the floor, we had been fucking so passionately that our session slowly moved off the bed. I fell first and landed on my back, and she landed on me, again revealing just how frail she was required to be. It felt like a beautiful pillow landing on me. We giggled until she asked to blow me instead, “I might actually die if you make me cum one more time and you haven’t even cum yet” pouting as if she was offended, though I was dangerously close, and she was the only girl that even brought me there, anyway what’s better than a goddess giving you a blowjob?

I climbed on the bed, and she climbed much slower, likely due to the “exhaustion”. She set herself up in the “The Pose” with her feet kicking the air as she took me in her mouth. This time, like a super-charged neural network was already giving a earth shattering blowjob, her beautiful feet dangled in the air while I held on to her hair. Her hair slowly collapsed on her face to reveal bangs, her hair spray degraded from our actions.

She was eye-fucking me with her innocent eyes the entire time as she gave me a blowjob, we both stared into eachother, silent conversations blooming in a ridiculous position. And I finally reached the peak, I grasped her head and I held her down until I unloaded all of it, globs of semen flowed down her mouth. The gaps of her mouth needed for breathing flowed out with thick baby batter, she vacuumed her mouth too late. She stared at me in amazement, I raised my brow, an empty response, one that could be interpreted any way. She took the response and understood it her own way. Her mouth slowly left my cock, clean with spit. She swallowed with a grin, rubbing my thighs, then dived down. She kneeled and swallowed it all, then went back down to clean the rest of the semen on my crotch, she licked and mewled until she sat up again softly patting me on the thigh.

“Goddess”, was all I could muster.

She smiled brightly and we showered each other in silent praise. She eventually moved down the bed, but kissed her down, my thigh, my shin, and got up to only collapse as she walked off.

“Oh shit, my legs are literally jelly”, but she adjusted herself, and asked, “Well… well. Do you wanna take a shower together?”, naked, glistening and slightly avoiding my gaze in her embarrassment.

“Do you even have to ask?” I jumped up and took her in a bridal carry. She again kept kissing whatever part she was closest to, my chest, my shoulders, “definitely a gentleman” and rested her head against me.

The shower was warm and it was a tight fit for other people, not for us though, we grazed skin-to-skin assisting each other to clean one another. It was exceptionally hard but it was the hardness that could be ignored, because this moment was almost undeniably better, she rubbed me with her hands and smiled with such affection, not even the graze of my dick fazed her in cleaning up together.

I would’ve brought down the world for her. We exited the shower and toweled ourselves, she said, “can we never be apart again for more than 12 hours?”, then she hugged me from behind, “can we always eat together?”, kissing my back, “can we sleep together every night?”, I replied, “I don’t know if I can fulfill all of those everyday, but I know this, you are mine,” pulling her into a gentle kiss that was the seal of our confessions. We got dressed, “You look great with the button-up that you ruined” she laughed, “I might leave this here as a memorial for our first time and leave shirtless”, I replied jokingly.

We both entered the living room and she immediately went to the kitchen to cook something up, “What about the leftovers, can’t we just eat that?”. She replied warmly with, “I want you to taste everything I planned over the 2 days, leftovers can be thought of later, my king”. Obviously teasing me but that definitely brought the rush out of me, the brief intermission of a wonderful quietness, one that was so cozy went on. I fulfilled my duties as chairman in the amount of time she spent cooking, in the beautiful silence.

She sat next to me, as close as possible, fabrics rubbing against each other. And we ate while watching Twin Peaks, until she was too scared to do so, then watched High and Low by Akira Kurosawa. After the meal, I went to the restroom, and I came out the room to see Ryujin sleeping the deepest I’ve seen yet. 

I picked her up to the bedroom and let her lay there, her soft breathing was adorable. I was tired too, I took the cover that was almost entirely wet and found another blanket, and I slept next to her, not bothering to take off my clothes

I woke up with the familiar discomfort of sleeping with clothes on, imprinted lines and heat. The morning haze pierced through the flying dust, with eyes still accustomed to shuteye. I didn’t move, despite the discomfort, it was unbelievably comfortable paradoxically. It was because she was next to me, she was perfect for a sleeping ad, perfectly on her back, with a slight grip on the cover and mouth agape with slow and steady breaths. I moved slightly to get a better look at her.

Her eyes fluttered open. There was a pause and she scanned the room; moved her hand to feel my arm, and we locked eyes affectionately. “I can’t believe this is real”, then she jumped to hug me. She was so warm, we stayed like that for a few minutes until I felt a dampness on my chest. Was she really crying? Why? I looked down and she buried her face into my chest, I was too busy enjoying the scent of her and I wanted to investigate what happened. I pulled her off of me, and her eyes were indeed wet, “I’m sorry, it’s just that I’m so happy and I don’t know what to say, I’m not sad, it just feels like I’m getting divine intervention or something,” she laughed as she wiped her wet eyes. 

I palmed the nape of her neck, and kissed her forehead then her lips. “You have to be so foul as to think I might leave again, you have utterly seduced me, my little doe,” I planted kisses on her and it was almost about to transition into a very welcome round of sex on her bed. Until a sudden bell rang on her door, she jumped trying to process what to do. “I’ll just stay on the bed”, she affirmed, and hastily went to the door, conveniently with her clothes on.

I heard the click of the door and a familiar voice ask, “Ryujin, what happened? I kept calling you and messaging you and you didn’t reply!”, “I was worried sick!” It was definitely Yeji. “But you literally live next to me!” Ryujin replied, irritated. 

“I know it’s our break and all, but I was kind of bored and I wanted to hang out. I kept calling you and I heard some weird noises next door but I ignored it, and then today you still didn’t pick up your phone…”

“Alright, calm down Yeji unnie, come on in.” Her voice is strangely calm and resolute.

I heard the door click and Yeji sitting down, they chatted about the group and other things. Yeji laughed and was definitely babying Ryujin. Their bond was great, their conversation was very smooth (whatever the hell that means). I don’t even know why I’m at the edge of the bed chiming in on what exactly they were saying. 

“Why have you been so absent though?” Yeji may have been a little foolish, but even she knows Ryujin was acting strange.

“Uhhh.. I don’t know, maybe I just changed all of a sudden”

“Is it about the Samsen Chairman Koji?”

Ryujin was resolute throughout the entire conversation but she stuttered all of a sudden…

Then she stuttered some more, and gave up on replying.

“Wow… I thought you were “immune to love” as you said before… cringy girl, and you even smell weird. Like the smell is some kind of masculine smell, I know you use unisex perfume and sometimes that can approach a masculine aspect but I don't think so..” She definitely knew something was up.

“Have you met up with him after that crazy hangover?” Yeji added on.

“Maybe”

“What!?” Yeji gasped.

“So what!?”

“You know JYP is not gonna like that.”

“Who cares… who cares… I’ll do what I want to do…”

“Is he here right now!?” Shit, she should be a private investigator…

“Mind your own business!” She yelped with excruciating embarrassment…

“Wow, you are really head over heels for him, Ms. Immune to Love, Ms. Resolute Girl Boss!!” She laughed hysterically, hearing what she said about love and how she interacts with people is definitely amusing.

“Well I should really mind my words if he really is here,” Yeji said as Ryujin probably planted her head in embarrassment. 

It’s probably my time to head out and greet her, I grasped the door handle and appeared. It was ridiculous, I had a completely destroyed white button-up that I held the “integrity” of with a pinch of my fingers.

Yeji gasped, “Oh my GOD!!! I’m so sorry sunbaenim… if you heard all of that I was just trying to tease her… I didn’t mean anything” she really seemed to be sincere about it, her mouth was agape with a slight happiness that she guessed something right for once, guess she really was teasing her about it.

I don’t even know what I’m supposed to say, what does a man who comes out of the bedroom with fucked up clothes, does he pose like batman with his fasts balled against his waist or something… fuck, should’ve thought about it a little more.

Ryujin looked back at me smiling with defeat in her eyes, begging with her eyes to resolve this crazy situation.

“Hello Yeji of ITZ…” I paused, Yeji looked disturbed, Ryujin giggled into her arms, Fuck Fuck Fuck already fucked it up.

“Hello Yeji, I am Ryujin’s boyfriend.” --------------

End Note: Hello, hopefully you enjoyed the fanfiction. I'm mainly gonna be doing Ryujin over and over again, she is just genuinely a goddess. For people who have ever even thought of writing fanfiction, do it immediately, it's a journal that you feel inclined to write because it's actually something of interest, as I rarely find myself interesting, not trying to be self-deprecating but writing in a journal is just impossible lol.

[pinkslaystation]

[Part 2] If I meant something to you.

toxic!Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Here's part 1 hee hee hee hee Here's part 3 You believe Simon's changed his ways after your sister's engagement. After his actions, you still want him, but does he want you? Word Count: 3.6k

A half naked woman running out of Simon's flat? A surprise indeed it was.

You really thought he reciprocated the same feelings as you did at one point, for once in your life feeling as if someone truly did want you for you, but that fantasy had dried out, and it was clear Simon had no intentions with you.

Your replacement proved it.

Before you began to weep in front of the Brit again, you hurried to your flat door, rummaging through your sweatshirt pockets for your key, wanting to wallow back into a state of depression in the comfort in your own home.

Simon didn't follow you, instead he just leaned against his door frame, sexily might I add, intensely watching you clumsily rip out past receipts and snotty used tissues from your pockets. He wanted to say something, ask you how your day had been, even thought it just turned 9 A.M.

Then it hit you.

You think back to your previous steps. You woke up at 8:30, you read the texts from your sister, made yourself some coffee, which you definitely think had gone off, and left your home, feigning a state of happiness.

You didn't take your keys with you. They sat on your kitchen counter, almost like they were mocking you for being so careless.

Banging your head against the door, you curse, "Fuck's sake...."

You mentally note that this is probably one of the most humiliating scenes you've found yourself in, nearly as bad enough as your 18th birthday, when your parents congratulated your younger brother instead of you accidently.

Simon exhales a puff of smoke towards your direction, you were so fixed on trying to get inside, you didn't catch him lazily eyeing you whilst lighting a cigarette into his mouth.

"You...wanna come inside?" He asks nonchalantly, looking at the sky, avoiding your gaze as if to seem cooler than you.

"Why would I do that? I don't wanna know where that bitch has been..." You scoff, referring to the girl. You want to look away from him, but his blonde chest hair glistens in the sunlight, enticing you to follow his instructions. He's not even all military mode on you but you already find yourself acting submissive around his presence again.

He grunts, thinking about what to say next, "Well for starters, Francesca's no one...and, where else are ya gonna go?" The sarcasm is sharp in his voice.

So you were replaced by a Francesca.

"And listen love, face it, you need something from me, come in so we can talk. Can't guarantee we'll do a lot of talkin' though..." His words trails off, trying to convince you. Boy, is it working...

His eyebrows are raised, and he purposely flexes his still wet pecs.

Fuck it. You think, barging into his room, purposely bumping shoulders.

You finally enter Simon's room for the first time.

Simon wasn't completely heartless.

Yes, his childhood trauma resulted in his avoidant nature, ignoring his team in order to work alone on the field, disobeying his Captain to do what he'd deemed as best, and even ghosting you ever time you tried reaching out to you. What you didn't know though, was that Simon had given you his previous phone number, one he doesn't use anymore...

Late nights in his hospital bed led him trying to stalk you through Facebook, which no one your age uses by the way (don't tell him that), and every time his searches led him to nothing.

Had he not been so foolish, he would have manned up and straight up demanded you for your number. But he didn't, instead he told you he'd find you if he needed you, which was becoming more and more infrequent.

Yet here he lies, now clad in a loose black top and sweatpants, sitting across from you on his couch in his oddly empty room, hearing you out.

"'Kay so, your sister wants you at her engagement and you need a date, and you have no other friends but me, and you want me to be your fake date." He repeats back to you.

You hum, "For someone that didn't finish secondary school, you're quite smart."

Simon chuckles at the reciprocates banter, "And...what's in it for me?"

You scrunch your nose, "What?"

"What's in it for me." He enunciates his word, as if speaking to a baby, "What do I benefit from this?"

"Are you fuckin' for real, you've basically used me for your own pleasure, and you can't even fake a relationship in front of my family for like a couple of hours?"

You stand up, ready to leave, not willing to be disrespected again.

"Love, listen," Simon pulls on your arms, and you begin to notice the fresh scars decorating his forearms.

"Our relationship...platonic of course, it's like a business. You want something, you gotta work for it."

You're stunned, did he just insinuate that you were merely a business partner to you? Can this man be anymore of an ass, than he already is, reducing your relationship to a step below a 'situation-ship'.

"What possibly could I have that you need?"

"Yeah," he gruffs out, contemplating his decision, "not money 'cos I got more of that than you..."

He sits there in mock confusion, but you had a feeling he knew what he wanted from you the moment you spat out your request at his door earlier.

Before you try cursing him out again, your attention shifts to the ping from your phone, another unfamiliar number, but not from your sister.

10:32 A.M. ####:- Hey kiddo, how's life been treating you. ####:- Finally gotta a job? ####:- Can't wait to see you, your brother's been waiting to introduce you to his new girlfriend, good addition to the family this time I think. ####:- You're getting older now, unmarried and unemployed. Chop Chop.

Great, just a monthly reminder from your father that you've already been replaced by your brother's new fling for the week.

Now you really needed that date.

"I'll fuck you." You state.

Simon stares at your new found dominance, standing up to purposely look down at you and tower over you, disliking the sense of authority shifting between you two.

"Once again, dove."

"Just. Fuck. Me. Simon. Get this shit over with." You command.

Okay, now you actually felt used. Blackmailed into having sex with Simon, just for him to get what he wants really was the all time low for you. And you've hit rock bottom multiple times.

You wake up light-headed, in Simon's empty bed. The bedside table held a small note in messy handwriting and a singular key.

Headed out to the pub, got a spare key for your room. You better be out of there by the time I get back. Jesus, you got the hint.

You wonder why and where Simon got a spare key from, realising that this situation could have been rectified from the beginning, instead he basically coerced you into sex just to fulfill his needs.

Your mother would die if she knew what your life was like.

Walking back into your room, you shoot a text to Simon, your now fake date, informing him of the fool-proof plan you'd come up with.

As you rest on your couch, thinking about the future ahead of you, and your head unconsciously drifts to that dreaded question:

What if you hurt Simon like he's hurt you?

The next few days was filled with your evenings trying to explain the dynamics of your family to Simon and teaching him more about you.

"And what, they went to the theme park and just left you there? Ain't that borderline abuse?" He questions, a small guilty feeling arising in the pit of your stomach learning about how similar both of yours fucked childhood was like.

You shrug, used to being kicked to the curb. You stop yourself before making some remark that he has no right to act upset about your parents behaviour when he's acting no better.

You tell him your middle name, hell, you tell him the correct spelling of your first name, and you stare at him, embarrassed that this hunk has pounded at your core but doesn't even know the vowels in your name.

"And last week was my birthday if they ask, and you better tell them I celebrated it by going to the cinema with my friends." You inform him, hoping some of this information gets retained into his pea sized head.

Simon cringes, unaware of your birthday, recalling the numerous amount times you'd shot him a smile that day, urging at least one person to wish you a happy birthday. He cocks his head, "What friends?" before correctly himself, "I mean, names wise."

"....you gotta make them up."

Note to self: Make new friends.

The big day comes and you and Simon had driven to the venue of your sister's engagement party. Extravagant was an understatement. Anyone that would look at this event would assume your parents were millionaires, but they're not considering only 2 out of 3 children received trust funds.

You wore a sleek black dress with a slit by your right leg, and Simon matched with a clean black suit which, by the way, you paid for.

Though you would usually drink in his appearance, his recent brooding behaviour gnawed in your mind, so no matter how many smiles he sent your direction, they couldn't dispel the unease settling in your gut.

The first hour consisted of the pair of you awkwardly standing around, drinking numerous glasses of the finest champagne, with his broad arm hovering over your shoulder.

"Where's the family?" He asks eyeing every guy that even so glances your direction.

You shrug, glancing at your unread messages to your sister.

1:00 P.M. You:- hey :) made it, wru??? You:- looks very grand btw!! 1:29 A.M. You:- hello? where's ma? 1:37 A.M. You:- champagne's tastyyy You:- hi wru 1:59 A.M. You:- bruh did you rly invite me just to ignore me???

Simon winces at your phone, reminding himself to finally get your number so at least someone would reply to your messages.

"You made it!"

You both turn around at the chirpy voice, instantly locking eyes with your sister.

"Hey, you didn't read my texts, been here for an hour now." You question, as you're being pulled into a hug.

"Oh that was you? Sorry, I haven't saved you on my phone," she laughs. You glance at Simon almost offended by that, even though you hadn't saved her number either.

"Introduce me to the big guy!" She nudges you, and Simon interrupts you before you open your mouth.

"Lieutenant Simon Riley, and uh- also boyfriend." He extends his arm, and you can't tell whether he's faking his grin or not.

She drags his forearms, yanking him away from you and ushering him along eagerly., "You need to meet my family, come come!", as they walk off together, and you find yourself standing there, left to socialise with someone else.

At 3 P.M., you navigate yourself to your family and your 'boyfriend', whom at this point, had really seemed to fit in with the community. Your father hadn't believed that you scored a buff military commander, and if he wasn't unhappily married to your mother, you'd bet 10 quid that he'd be all over Simon.

"Served in Afghanistan huh?" He chuckles boisterously.

"Yes sir." Simon actually looks like he's having fun, displaying the look of admiration for having an almost father-like figure in his life. He begins you question why you dislike your family so much, they're great!

"And you watch football lad?" He pats Simon on his back.

"Avid fan, sir."

Your father shakes Simon's hand, immediately surprised by his firm grip, "Good man. Don't let go of this one, love." He nods towards you, his smile twitching at Simon, who's basically gripping the bones through his wrist.

You force a smile hugging into your boyfriend's side, shouldn't he be saying that to your Simon, rather than you? I mean it's either your biological daughter you've sort of brought up her entire life versus a solider you've known for about an hour.

"Son, take some notes from your sister, no wonder you're single every other day." Your father reprimands your brother, who flinches from the sudden sound of disapproval and grips his girlfriend's forearm tighter. For sure the first time you're actually than him, at finding a better fake partner.

Your mother, on the other hand, was virtually glued to the other side of Simon, gripping his biceps and fawning over his muscles to your brother, who's actually looked like the only one who saw through your facade.

"Wow, you must really enjoy the gym, sweetie." She bags her eyes, disgustingly.

"Yes ma'am."

She addresses you, for what you think was the first time in over a year, and mouths sternly, "I was wrong, I approve."

The entire event was a drag to you, something you weren't used to at all, considering the majority of your childhood was mainly you being left home during such big events, but Simon managed to enjoy the evening whilst successfully lying to your entire family.

"Me and the missus have been together for 10 months now. She's very happy." He raises his glass to you, eliciting a genuine smile from you. It was times like this that you wished that you and Simon just tied the knot and just began dating. However, you couldn't ignore those underlying feelings of a simmering anger, a desire to confront him publicly for using you for so long.

"I am..." It sounds more like a question than a reply, kissing him, in mock affection.

"You need to stay over our place, Simon darling," Your mother gleams, with your father agreeing, "You can stay in the study!"

"You mean my old bedroom?"

It's midnight, and your family have finally fell asleep in the place you once called home.

You lay next to Simon on your old bed, inspecting your previous room. The walls were no longer painted your favourite colour, but now was coated in a dull grey, your desk now replaced by a vintage looking oak table, definitely all to accommodate your father's taste. Any speck of 'you' had been wiped out from the room, and Simon wonders what young you was like.

"That was very fun...I like 'em, your family." He whispers almost inaudibly, fatigue evident in his words. His arm is draped comfortably around your neck, your head resting in the nook of his armpit.

You hum. The unfamiliar attention Simon had brought up on the two of you exhausted you, though a small part of you liked it, that now your mother actually cared about what you got up with him on a daily basis.

"Simon..." You begin, "What- what are we? If anything..."

You're anticipating his rejection.

"Neighbours..." He mouths silently.

You nod at him, hoisting yourself up on your elbows, although his eyes are closed.

"Simon. It's just that. I know it's all a show...but today it didn't feel like pretend...And when you said you wanted to marry me to my mum, it's just, I don't know, didn't feel fake you know. Felt real..Simon...Simon?"

He snores in response.

Great. You're just confessing to the thin air.

If he doesn't take you out, socialising for almost 9 hours straight will. You pass out next to him, no longer under his arm. Simon lays next to you, watching the slow rise of fall of your chest, after faking a snore.

He stares at the ceiling thinking about the day.

Come morning, and you find yourself sitting at the dining table next to Simon, who'd found himself in a hearty conversation with your parents, sister and future brother in law.

Across from you is your brother, whom you're sure didn't fall for your ruse.

His expression reveals concern as he gazes at you, almost as if he's silently urging you to unravel the tangled web of lies you've woven.

With a swift motion, he picks up his phone, arching an eyebrow in your direction, just as your phone chimes with a notification.

9:12 A.M. ####:- ik you two aren't dating. ####:- better fess up before i do

He smirks at you, your expression mirrors one of close defeat.

9:13 A.M. You:- ik you mad that she cheats on you every friday. You:- better check her private 2nd insta account before i do

Your brother looks up, hesitant to curse you out in front of everyone.

You 1, your brother 0.

Breakfast was served at this time you actually got the same amount of food as your siblings did, although Simon beat all 3 of you for it. Even though your sister was celebrating her engagement, the entire conversation was stuck on you and Simon.

Credits to your parents, because you were actually learning things about Simon, and you wonder if he thinks you're self-obsessed given that you've forced every fact about you down his throat and you haven't even given a minute for him.

"...and my Captain John Price, great guy. She loves him actually." He nudges you, breaking you from your trance.

"Huh."

Everyone on the table turn to you as Simon rubs your knee softly.

"OH. Um, yeah. Mr Price, John, um, great guy, handsome and so hot. Love him. The best really."

As you stumbled over your words, trying to cover up the slip, Simon gave you a reassuring squeeze on your knee. His eyes conveyed a silent message, telling you that it was okay and that they didn't catch you in a lie.

Your brother, however, shot you a knowing look, his expression a mix of amusement and annoyance. It was clear that he had caught onto your the slip up.

"Alright, enough about work," your mother interjected, steering the conversation away from Simon's military life. "Let's talk about something more fun. Like the wedding!"

The topic shifted to your sister's upcoming wedding, and you found yourself for once engaged in a lively discussion with your family about venues, dresses, and guest lists. Simon chimes in, his comments light-hearted and filled with humor.

As the breakfast progressed, you couldn't shake off the feeling of guilt gnawing at you. Your brother's text had reminded you that you were deceiving your family, and although it had started as a harmless ruse, it was beginning to feel like a weight on your shoulders.

After the meal, you and Simon got ready to depart, and as Simon and the rest of your family went to his car, you stood back at the front door, watching how perfect Simon fit in with them.

"It's obvious you don't like him."

You turn to the voice: your brother.

Your groan, "You again? Can't you just leave me alone, God's sake..."

"Aren't you a 'lil worried about how easily he lies though?" he taunts, "how'd you get him here? Money? Or you hold him over a secret? Maybe...sex?"

"What's your problem? Can't you just be happy I'm with someone?" You step back from him.

"Of course I am, if he doesn't like who, who else will, no? I'm just looking out for you bro. It's not gonna last, take it from someone who's in and out of relationships like your guy's in and out of other women."

You squint your eyes at him, confused.

"Grace, Josie, Francesca..." he trails off walking slowly towards the rest of the group. Francesca? That name rings a bell...

"Word of advice, don't leave your phone out in the open, I mean the amount of nudes on there, you'd think his gallery was a porn site! And without a password? Didn't know you were into whores, sis." He cackles.

And here you thought the trip had altered the dynamic.

The ride home was 2 hours too long and too silent. You contemplated your next move. Do you beat around the bush or straight up ask him if he's still seeing other people behind your back? You know he doesn't owe you anything, he is your FAKE boyfriend, right? But, why did it feel so real?

"So..." he starts.

You rest your head on the window, "So..."

His hand moves to your thigh, squeezing gently before moving towards your core slowly.

"That was fun." He states.

You hum.

"Real cool family, huh."

You hum once again, unsure what to say.

"We should do that again..."

You look at him confused.

"Are you serious? I think they still think that they have 2 kids, they focused on you the entire time-"

"Well, it's not like you put in much effort to talk, love."

That shuts you up.

He sighs at your silence, "Listen, I've been thinking."

You glance at him, hoping he'd kick you out of his car and let you walk the rest of the way home, too ashamed to be in his vicinity.

"Your parents were hinting us to take the next move you know..."

"Neighbours to friends?" You question.

He laughs, "Your family's great, your sister's and her lad, real cute couple you know, I felt at home...so I was thinking...we should try it you know, going out I guess."

You scrunch your face at him, was he really convinced into asking you out because your parents asked him? And here you were, months of trying to hint to wanting more, and the moment your demanding parents butt in, he's just going to do what they say? And the fact that he couldn't even say the word relationship.

Who the fuck does he think he is?

You cross your arms in annoyance. You were tired of being pushed around like a doormat.

Your brother's words ring through your head, as Simon drives.

It's not gonna last, take it from someone who's in and out of relationships like your guy's in and out of other women.

All the signs point towards rejecting his proposal. He doesn't want you, he just wants the safest route. You being in a relationship with him isn't going to stop him fucking other women.

Why would you waste your time with a guy to whom you meant nothing to?

So you decide to give it to him directly.

"Yes. I'll be your girlfriend."

Thank you all so much for the interactions on part 1! Means a lot :D THERE WILL BE A PART 3 LMAOOO i did not intend for this fic to be long but here we are. lemme know you're interested to be tagged in my future posts! tags -> @lilliumrorum, @kxtz3, @poohkie90, @rainlovesyou12, @restrictionsapply, @lunamoonbby, @nigthmar3moon, @thychuvaluswife, @itsnourm, @bubusi11, @owkittie

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Veronica Lake (I Married a Witch, Sullivan's Travels)—her look is so iconic they used her as a visual model for jessica rabbit in who framed roger rabbit and a bunch of other femme fatale types in cartoons and live action alike. i didnt think i liked women and then i saw her in sullivans travels and said gee i hope this doesnt awaken anything in me! every role ive seen her in she absolutely oozes an aura of "i know people would ask me to step on them" and her EYES bro every photo ive looked at for this submission its like shes piercing thru time and space to judge me <3

Eartha Kitt (Anna Lucasta, St. Louis Blues)—My friend and I have a saying: NOBODY is Eartha Kitt. A thousand have tried, and they've all come up empty and will continue to do so. Everyone knows her for something: from "Santa Baby" to Yzma in Emperor's New Groove to Catwoman to making Lady Bird Johnson cry for the Vietnam War. She was a master of comedy and sex, an extremely vocal activist, and she aged like fine wine... I honestly don't know what I can say about her that hasn't already been said, so I'll stick to linking all my propaganda. Like what else do you want from me. She was iconic at everything she ever did. Literally name another. How can anyone even think of her and not want to absolutely drown?

This is round 5 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Veronica Lake:

Her HAIR, her FIGURE, her VOICE, the way she wore LEATHER AND SANG SONGS FOR NO REASON.

I don't believe there's a person on earth who can watch Veronica Lake in I Married A Witch and not be struck by how gorgeous she is. She had that youthful wonder about her that almost every Hollywood starlet was trying to achieve. Her hairstyle (peekaboo bangs) became an iconic Hollywood style after she popularized it, and made her signature look all the more suggestive. Also, witches are tumblrs favorite!

ICONIC hair sweep

The US government literally begged her to change her hairstyle because it was TOO HOT to handle and women who copied it were getting their hair caught in machinery

Her hairstyle was so iconic and popular that the war department had to come out with a PSA instructing lady ironworkers with ways they could pin their hair up to avoid it getting bound in machinery. [https://veteranlife.com/military-history/veronica-lake/]

She played a lot of femme fatale roles but my favorite is Sullivan’s Travels opposite Joel McRea, which is a comedy. She became famous for her hair style at the time—she wore it long and parted on one side so it would fall over half her face in a very sexy way. They called it a peek-a-boo I think. You’ve definitely seen Bugs Bunny dressed up like her, so I think if she’s being honored in such a way she’s very cool.

look at her

she's GORGEOUS in her little witch outfits that she wore for promos and also in the oversized coats and pajamas she wore throughout the movie...she's got RANGE

My Grandpa supposedly dated her in high school, he drove her to school in his car every day. This is legend in the family.

She has gorgeous hair, has got the smouldering look over the shoulder down PAT, and is just drop-dead gorgeous too!

Schizophrenic icon, popularized the peekaboo hairdo long before Jessica Rabbit

She’s just so prettyyyyy

So much hot in such a tiny package. She was no more than 5 feet tall, and some reports claim as small as 4'9"

If you picture a femme fatale in your head, almost certainly Veronica Lake had a hand in shaping the image you think of. She came to embody the look of the noir leading lady as well as the sound and the performance. Certified Noir Baddie.

Eartha Kitt:

"A hot vintage woman who was not just known for her voice, beauty, poise, and presence, but also her unapologetic ways of speaking about how she was mistreated in the show business as a girl who grew up on cotton fields in South Carolina in the 1930s through the 1940s coming to Broadway first and then Hollywood."

"Have you watched her sing?? Have you seen her face?? Have you heard her talk?? How could you not fall instantly in love. She makes me incoherent with how hot she is."

"She can ACT she can SING she can speak FOUR LANGUAGES she is a GODDESS!!! Although she is (rightfully) remembered for her singing, TV appearances (Catwoman my beloved), and later film roles, her early appearances in film are no less impressive or noteworthy!! She’s an amazing actress with so much charisma in every role. She was also blacklisted from Hollywood for 10 years for criticizing the Johnson administration/Vietnam War, so. Iconic. Also Orson Welles apparently called her “the most exciting woman in the world.”

"She had such a stunning, remarkable appearance, like she could tear you to shreds with just a glance- but the most undeniable part of her hotness was her voice, and it makes sense that it's what most people nowadays know her for. Nothing encapsulates the sheer magnetism of her singing better than this clip of her and Nat King Cole in St. Louis Blues, she pops in at 2:49. Also I know it's post-1970 but her song that was cut from Emperor's New Groove is likely to make you feel Feelings."

Even with as racist as Hollywood was in the 1950s and 60s, Eartha Kitt STILL managed to have a thriving career. She also once had a threesome with Paul Newman and James Dean, and called out LBJ over the Vietnam War so hard that it made First Lady Johnson cry. Eartha Kitt was talented, sexy, and a total badass activist.