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jolalibrary · 2 years ago

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this year's love.

simon ghost riley x f!reader

wc: 5.5k warnings: angst. fluff. smut. feelings. usual jo things. summary: And then you begin calling him Riley. It’s more flirtatious—more meaningful. Simon is when you’re soft, thanking him, when others are close and can hear you. Riley is when you’re leaning over the bar, staring into his soul and smirking so deviously it takes a lot to not kiss it off your lips. an: from the drabble where ghost 'dates' a non-militant he meets in a pub. this is dedicated to @yeyinde for reminding me why British pubs are adorable, and also to @guyfieriii because she hates my angst, but loves my fluff, and makes me want to write better.

simon ghost riley masterlist

He suspects he should stay away.

As soon as he began to crave the sight of you. Ignoring the fact he’s heard This Year's Love by David Gray three times already—and he has only been here an hour. The condensation beads from his glass pools on the picked-at-bar mat, drenching his fingers and wrist.

Not that he cares.

Ghost—

Simon knows it’s all part of the charm.

It has been since the day he turned eighteen and his boss at the butchers took him for his first pint.

The place hasn’t changed since. Everything from the same ten to twelve songs which crackle through the worn and tired speakers. The smokey air, and discoloured, yellowing wallpaper.

Things don’t get replaced either, the chipped glass ashtrays are the same as the ones he remembers. The same chipped mahogany tables with the ill-matching chairs and stools that are wobbly.

The scent in the place is familiar, a mix between festering ale and Mr Sheen, working men and cheap perfume, fust and smoke—both from the crackling winter fire and cigarettes—even if one hasn’t been smoked inside of it for years.

The place, to outsiders, would look like any stone-walled pub on the corner of two streets they’ll never remember. Then they’ll step in, their eyes glancing over the peeling wallpaper, moth-eaten curtains (that never close) and the once-white nets in the windows, before questioning what they’ve walked into. That’s before they’ve noticed the white ball on the pool table is in fact another black ball and that the dart board triple 20 has been chipped out after Bald-Andy lost his rag.

The pub has been a real gem to those who know what real diamonds are for as long as Simon can remember. None of the regulars care that the bar stools have burns from cigarettes being stubbed out, they don’t care that the musty smell doesn’t vanish even with Febreze and sheer will. It’s expected, just like how the bar is always sticky and the energy always feels right.

Here, he can relax.

When he’s home, he feels purposeless. A man with a map but no direction. But, he can unfurl his shoulders from his ears, even let his hood slide to the back of his neck.

Because in this place, strangers aren’t welcome. It’s a local pub, for local folk. Those who wander in, thinking the pub on the corner of quaint and quintessential will provide them with a typical British evening, normally leaving before Freddie Mercury has reached the bridge of whatever song is on rotation.

But, Simon isn’t just here for the bourbon or the ale, he’s not here because the wooden fire licks every wall of the place. He’s not here because it feels more like home than his actual home.

He’s here because there’s one thing that has changed, and it’s you.

You with a rosy, sweet laugh that usually accompanies a smile which makes his heart gallop. It calms whatever storm rages inside of him when you look at him—when you bore your pretty, fucking eyes into him before you lean over, hand on the beer pump as you call him Simon.

Simon.

His name has never sounded more serene than when it falls from your lips. The way you say it makes it seem less than ordinary, almost unique. Humour sways in your eyes, a glint he knows there’s more too—and wants nothing more than to explore.

You’re a vibrant surprise in the middle of my mundane, and it took him all of five minutes to discern you’re both difficult and charming all rolled into one.

And then you begin calling him Riley.

It’s more flirtatious—more meaningful.

Simon is when you’re soft, thanking him, when others are close and can hear you. Riley is when you’re leaning over the bar, staring into his soul and smirking so deviously it takes a lot to not kiss it off your lips.

Women haven’t tended to last here—except Tracy. Tracy, who like the urinal cakes, has been here since Simon’s first pint. Her lines had deepened in her skin over time, but her hair has remained that putrid blonde she tries to claim is natural.

You, on the other hand, are far younger—kind, soft, unless someone gets lairy and then there’s a ferociousness to you that’s packed into something so small. He suspects you know what the men at the bar look at when your eyes aren’t looking, and it’s not the way you command the small space stuffed with offerings and glasses.

He’d paid no mind initially. Tried not to, anyway. He’d decided it would be for the best. Then you’d bite back at Dave that you may be too young to remember a song, but you could still get down on her knees without them creaking.

He had smirked at that.

Deciding his new seat at the bar, on the rickety bar stool was his new favourite seat.

To this day, you always smell floral, but the accompanying scent with it changes. Sometimes you’re sultry, sometimes you’re just sweet. Each time he is able to return ‘home’ he’s never sure which one he’ll get—but it burns a place in his nose all the same.

Hard to shift, difficult to smother, not that he wishes to do either.

Their first exchanges were simple. Contractual. Another? Yes. Your usual? Yes. Then you had placed a deck of cards in front of him, a teasing smile on your face in the quietness of a Wednesday evening.

Keep me company.

It was difficult for him to grasp how soft your eyes were, how it made his mind blank and his heart both hammer and stutter all at once.

Now, it’s normal.

He’s used to it, fucking welcomes the way they land on him. He thinks about them on the plane ride home, how Alan—the chef who’ll serve anything off-menu for a packet of fags—makes a mean all-day breakfast sandwich. But mostly, it’s you.

“You back for long, Riley?”

“No.”

“Never are.”

“You sound disappointed, sweetheart.”

You always smile the same when he calls you that. Always half-roll your eyes before shaking your head, as though flirting with you is oh so wrong.

Especially when you start it first.

“What would you do if I was?”

That’s new.

His fingers pick up a crisp, watching you lean on the pump in front of you. The star earrings hanging from your ears, catch the bar spotlights, making it seem as though you’re literally glowing.

But then, you are—to him at least.

Someone calls for you, pint raised in hand—saving him from answering. You wink, and mumble you’ll be right back, the words lingering in the space you once stood.

You’re too good for him.

Too normal. Too unscarred and untouched. He suspects a bad thing has never happened to you. You’ve not plunged a knife into someone’s throat, not shot a moving target with a precision that most try to replicate on their controllers and headsets.

For that reason, and that reason alone, he knows he should stay on this side of the bar. Even when it takes all of his self-restraint to do so.

It’s hard though.

More so when you give him that look—that one which makes his cock twitch and his thoughts turn feral.

Because the nice girl from the pub may have a sweet, soft voice, but fuck he knows you’re anything but.

You’re all red lips and righteousness, a siren and enchantress who chooses floral perfume to try and disguise the way your eyes undress him.

Not that he complains.

He’s done the same.

Fucked his own fist to the thought of the noises you’d make and how you’d feel enveloped around his cock.

Tonight he’d likely do the same.

Winter is in full effect when he next returns.

Snow was thick on the streets, the roads a horrid mix of ice, slush and asphalt.

You’re behind the bar, Bald-Andy and his wife in the corner near the fire, and the crackling, gruff voice of Oasis is playing. You look up, lips smirking, eyes glistening.

“The usual?”

He considers it. Sweet, caramel and vanilla notes hit his tongue in memory. But he shakes his head, pulling out a stool, and sitting opposite you as your perfume greets him.

“Surprise me, sweetheart.”

You stand fully, hair falling around your face, making his heart lurch and his stomach burn.

“Living dangerously, I see,” you say, turning your back to him as you pull at spirit bottles.

If only you knew.

He suspects something sweet when you place the glass in front of him. The sound of it meeting the worn wood so loud, not that the other two patrons look over. As though it’s just the two of you. No one else. His eyes lift, hooking themselves into yours—unwilling to let you tear them from him as he tries to bury the aches of war and fighting.

It’s caramel coloured, darker at the bottom of the glass than the top. Ice. So much ice.

“Go on, try it, Simon.”

And he does.

It’s sweet, and zingy. It’s mellow but spicy, and he tastes the hints of ginger and rum as the cold hits his teeth.

“What y’made me?”

“You like it?”

Yes.

The tip of your tongue swiping across your bottom lip, watching you lean smugly. “Dark and stormy… the epitome of you.”

A groan leaving his lips, your laugh tasting of sunshine and happier days.

A long moment stretches between the two of you, one that makes the air thrum and him having to shift his jeans. A continuous voice in his head, telling him no, telling him to put a stop to this now.

He drinks it. He even orders it again.

Time ticks fast—too fast. He wants it to slow. Ever since their first flirtation, if you’ve finished when he’s there—he walks you to your car.

You drive something small, your entire backseat is always covered in coats, shoes and books. Something normal, and so typically you.

He does the same tonight, hands in his jacket pockets, periodically scanning the area as you lock the big wooden doors of the pub. You shake them, ensuring you have, pocketing the keys before turning to nudge him.

Simple. Soft. Each gesture in the short walk is always seemingly effortless. You don’t worry he’ll take offence, that he’ll shatter or snap.

Not that he would.

His arm lifting, letting your small hand slide around it for stability as the snow falls thick and fast. It paints the streets in a blanket that crunches under their boots. And there’s something about the snow landing in your hair, on the tip of your nose, even on your lower lip.

He wants to brush it from your mouth, and trace the bow of your upper lip with his thumb.

Because it’s all a contradiction. Snow makes you look innocent, something close to a character from a movie or a Disney film. And, you’re not any of those things.

You’re snarky, huffed whispers and quick retorts when drunkards try to hit on you; you’re witty, funny and boldly brilliant.

So much so, he’s never sure why you work there. He knows you’re studying, knows you’re trying to better yourself. You’ve told him as much over a Pepsi Max in your hand and something stronger in his.

He knows it’s odd to keep staring at you. Your eyes staring up, making your eyes seem wider and bigger than they actually are—pretty sure the flurries of snow, stars and moon are shining in them. But it’s his treat—his reward. The thing he thinks about when he’s knee-deep in mud or covered in blood, sweat and bruises.

Your feet stop at your car, unlocking it—the beep and flash of your headlights casting light across the car park.

“You back for long?”

“No.”

Smiling, you lean against the rear window. “Never are.”

It’s a pattern, a habit. An exchange that has become the norm for the two of you as much as hello and goodbye.

Then, you sigh.

Something you rarely do, not to him—not with him. His brows knitting, tightening, heart thundering in his throat as you drag your eyes up his chest, and neck and land on his face.

“Do you know how perfect it would be, if you grew a pair and kissed me in the snow, Riley?”

Your hand slides into the handle, opening it as your smirk turns into a grin. One which is brighter than your headlights, the moon—hell, the fucking sun.

“Guess I’ll have to wait for a shooting star, instead.”

And, you laugh, leaning your back against the car—expression blended with vulnerability and searing heat that should melt the settling ice on your face.

“Y’seem like the sorta woman to make me work for it.”

“Oh yes, because eighteen months of will-they-won’t-they hasn’t been tedious enough.”

He grabs your elbow, roughly pulling but finds you fall into him with far too much ease. The snow continues to fall, leaving soft cold kisses on his face, but he doesn’t feel cold.

How could he? You’re staring up at him with the searing heat of the sun.

“Y’want me to kiss you, Sweetheart?”

“More than I want to go home and sleep, Riley.”

His hand cups your cheek, warm meeting cold as he pulls your lips to his. Cold, soft lips slide against his, and he tastes the orange from your cordial swirling with his bourbon-covered tongue. Your car groans when he presses you against it, your hand clutching him with the same desperation as he’s flush with your body.

Your cheeks are warm against his hands, eyelashes fluttering open as the two of you break apart.

“You… you want to come back to mine?”

Yes. Fuck yes.

But—

“Next time.”

“Yeah?”

His fingers brush down your cheek, and he nods.

He got your number.

For convenience. You tell him he didn’t need to come in and drink one of your piss-poor beer pulls just to get in your knickers.

So he doesn’t.

He doesn’t text when he first lands. He gives himself a day—a moment to shed the Ghost and become Simon. When you do you don’t reply with anything witty, just straight-laced—just like he likes it.

A time. An address.

He expects you to size him up at your front door, even bracing for a changed mind. You don’t do either. You let the door open, standing two steps inwards dressed in something lace and rippable.

Fuckin’ fuck.

It’s the only thought he has before he slams your door behind him, striding towards you and practically throwing you over his shoulder.

You don’t taste like what he expects—it’s better.

His tongue flattens against you, two fingers inside your warm cunt as you whimper. You reluctantly still clutching to the promise you’d made earlier. The one where you informed him it’ll take more than a few fingers and a skilled tongue to make you scream.

So he sucks. Bites. Nips.

He finds that squishy part, stroking it as your thighs twitch by his ears.

It’s then he grants himself the chance to look at you, finding your lipstick spread in a way which seems deliberately chaotic—even if he knows it isn’t. Your lashes wet, eyes clamped shut as you try and try not to give in.

So fuckin’ stubborn.

Your hands, all smooth and soft, clutching your breasts, the pink of a nipple poking out between your index and thumb as your chest rises and falls as you fight calling out his name.

He likes that you have convictions—it gives him something to break.

His tongue swirling, knowing already what he needs to do to undo you.

And then—

Simon—fuc-k, Simon.

It’s better than classical, better than whatever is number one on the fuckin’ charts. The sound of you coming hard, and fast, trying to bury it in a whisper than the scream you actually want to release. All of it is a better sound than his knife plunging into some unsuspecting op—because he will make you scream.

He laps up every ounce you give him, your pleading whimpers and nails in his hair making him groan against your cunt until you almost snap his neck—or try to.

“Take them off. Now.”

He doesn’t like orders.

He fucking detests them. He gives them. Normally loud and booming. But your voice, all sweet and high-pitched, trying to give stern eyes when your lashes are coated in tears he’s caused…

Your eyes widen when he stands naked. And he knows he’s big.

He’s very fucking aware of it. He’s seen plenty of evidence to support the fact in the wild, surprised eyes of those who he’s dropped his trousers for.

You now being one of them.

But fuck, he fits in you perfectly. So much so, he wants to mould your insides to match him, to ruin you for every other person who thinks they stand a chance with you.

Because they don’t.

But then neither does he.

Not that he’ll squander a moment to fuck with heaven—to hear the cadence shift when he hooks your leg over his hip as he drives his cock into you all the way to the hilt.

He coaxes another out of you, your tight cunt like a vice around him as your manicured nails leave scratches on his back. His tongue swipes across your jaw, before haphazardly capturing your mouth.

You taste like mint polos and sex—a taste he is already sure he’ll crave.

And he wonders to himself if you know how fucking perfect you are. If you have any idea of how stunning you truly are.

Especially like this. Your body shimmering with sweat, each thrust making your breasts bounce as your fingers tease his hair at the nape of his neck.

And then he wonders about something else.

Something far from coating your walls in his come.

Would you fit in his life?

Would you fit as well in it, as he does inside your cunt?

And then you’re clenching, hips lazily trying to meet his as you whimper, moan—

And then you scream.

Not Riley.

But Simon.

Mission accomplished.

It has become a habit.

You have become a habit.

He lands. He waits a day. He fucks you until you are raw, sore and breathless. His lips are on yours, hands still on your hips as he hears how hoarse your voice is.

“You back for long?”

“No.”

But this no is different.

It’s tinged with half a teaspoon of regret and sadness.

You hide your face when he answers now. Sometimes by slinging your arm to shield him from your eyes or by turning from him. It’s like you know he likes them. Likes being able to see each infliction of emotion in them—shimmering, dancing, storming across in front of him.

Somehow, you’ve fit into his life too well—cutting yourself a hole, forcing your way in, and making it seem as though you were always there.

Simon lets you be, too.

You have one of his t-shirts, baggy, black and covered in your perfume. He finds he has one of your hair ties around his wrist, not even realising until he slides on a pair of gloves. Flicking it against his wrist as he thinks of you, something he only allows himself to do briefly.

Things have changed. Shifted.

But the Earth hasn’t fallen off its axis and he’s not fucked up a mission. So he counts his blessings. He doesn’t know if he believes good things can happen to him, but he could be persuaded that he can have nice things. A belief he even starts to accept. A reality he begins to wish for, rather than keep at arm's length.

You’ve left the pub. You hadn’t been working every night for a while. Your studies had ended—receiving a photo of a cap and gown without your face when he was in the middle of a desert.

Now you’re working a better job, one you deserve more—it’s creative, more you. You make the world brighter, and better while he’s getting dirty and riding the world of darkness. You text him once, the day you got paid, that you bought him something nice.

Something he ripped with his teeth when he landed—much to your annoyance.

You’re no longer the girl in the pub. You’re perfectly applied make-up he fucks off your face. You’re high heels and pencil skirts—and sometimes fitted trousers that hug your arse so beautifully, he’s almost a bit jealous. You’re the pink sky at night, laughter that warms his chest, and a smile he thinks about as he falls asleep.

“What would my alias be?”

Your hand slides over a plate to him. Cheese on toast. Nothing big, nothing major, but he stares at it all the same. Because you’ve made him something.

You’ve been doing it for a while, and each time is as perplexing as the last. His brain is unable to figure out how, why and what he’s done to deserve it. Even if it’s toast, a sandwich, or a fucking meal.

Because it’s something outside of sex. It’s outside of holding the back of your head as he fucks your throat; outside of him pinning you against the dark alleyway of the pub he first saw you in, making you both cold and warm all at once.

Even if he knows—constantly turns it over and over in his mind—that this isn’t just sex. He’s not entirely sure what this is. Except…nice?

You take a bite of your own, the crunch filling the air, crumbs littering your top—his top. “My call sign.”

Simon isn’t sure why he told you about what he did. You were in his arms, warm, smelling of sex, flowers and something sharp. And, it fell out of him. Still drunk off your cunt, lost in the tenderness of your fingers on his chest, playing it a pattern with your nails.

Not everything. Fuck, he couldn’t tell you everything—wouldn’t. But you know enough.

Enough for him to know you’re not running, that you still want him knocking on your door whenever he lands—whether it's morning, noon or night.

Now, you’re making him food. Legs long, his black t-shirt skimming your thighs—all his. Looking ever so inviting, making it hard not to push you up on the counter and give your neighbours something to talk about.

“Egg.”

You snort, sharp and light. “Egg?! You’re fuckin’ rude, Riley. Egg? No, that’s shit, give me a better one.”

“But, true. You’d shatter, you’re more yolk than shell, you.”

“C’mon, be serious.”

He gives you a look, finding the one you’re giving him sultry, teasing—demanding.

“Snow.”

You stare for several seconds before you hum, crunching the corner of your food with your teeth. “Lemme guess because I’m oh-so-delicate?”

No—

It’s because you’re fucking perfect.

Because you’re his favourite season and favourite moment.

On some deeper level, he suspects it’s because you’re pure. That you’re unruined. Untainted. Your body has no scars—except the one from chicken pox and one on your hand from a glass bottle shattering. But, that’s it. He’s kissed every inch of you to know, to be 100% sure.

You’re Snow because each time he sees it, he thinks of you. Those red lips, all that fucking audacity and the way you kissed him, tasting as warm as bourbon and as sweet as sugar.

“Yeh, ‘cause you’re all pure and innocent, Sweetheart.”

You laugh, richly. Head thrown back, perfect thin neck exposed to the air—to him.

And he wants to kiss you.

He wants to taste your laugh and smile, let his hands run around the back of your thighs and feel you against every inch of him.

That’s when your eyes land on him again—all full of questions and spice. Your tongue drags across your plush bottom lip, wiping up the grease from the cheese as he swallows.

His throat suddenly dry.

Because the girl he met in the pub—the one standing before him—is standing in his t-shirt. Looking every bit delicious, good enough to eat and never come up for air.

And he thinks—

Realises, he actually, might—probably—miss you when he goes back to Price.

It’s stretched on for months. A year.

He lands, uses the key you gave him and stamps the snow from his boots, half smiling to himself as he does. Whenever he gets here, he doesn’t wait, he finds his way to whatever room you’re in.

Sometimes he doesn’t get far, your body colliding with his. All curves in his hands and arms around his neck, and he’s not sure what the fuck this is, but he likes it.

Loves it.

It’s something like a song about falling in love and a peaceful Sunday morning; it’s those moments you see in movies that make your eyes swell with tears as he stares at you, wondering how on earth you’re so goddamn amazing.

It’s familiar, and yet he has no idea what is happening next or why.

Mostly, though, Simon knows it’s something because he said your name to Johnny.

Not because he was dying, not because he was hurt. But in the middle of a normal conversation, one exchanged on some dark rooftop, stars twinkling, and eyes fixated on a building down a scope.

Normally, he wouldn’t have answered. Would have ignored him.

If y’could be anywhere, right now, Lt. Where’d y’pick?

He didn’t need to think.

He didn’t say home. Because home wasn’t his place, the pub or even the fuckin’ city he’s always ever known. It’s wherever you are. It’s where your heart beats and your bed is placed; it’s where your annoying, shitty music taste is blaring and that sleepy smile is when he wakes up next to you.

So, Simon said your name.

Simple. Easy.

Except it wasn’t simple or fucking easy. It was messy, and complicated. Because Johnny tilted his head, in that obnoxious way he does, demanding more information than he is ever prepared to ever share.

‘Fuck off, Johnny, before I punt y’off the rooftop and tell Price you’d been a cunt.’

Because you are locked away when he’s here. You are chained inside his chest, the deepest fucking secret—one no one will ever fucking take no matter how much they dig, how much they push him too.

You are his.

Something only he gets to enjoy—gets to see, hear and taste.

He’s done all of that for the last hour. Getting some sick satisfaction from edging you until you’re pleading with him, begging him with every breath you have to let you come as you wriggle and wiggle, urging him to lift your legs—just like he likes it, how you like it, and make you see fucking stars.

Now, you’re barefoot.

A different t-shirt of his hiding the welts he’s left, the growing bruises from the way he’d needed to hold you in place. Watching, observing—admiring—the oddness to your steps as you flick on the kettle. He’s always close—looming in the sun’s shadows across the kitchen he knows better than his own.

He has to be. Wants to be.

You’ve not just carved a place in your life, but in his chest—his heart. You’ve seeped into his skin, into his soul, merging and bringing to life something he thought had wilted and died. He doesn’t care that he’s vulnerable, that he’s not jagged edges and sharp stares.

“You wanna go out with me? Tonight?”

You pause, tea bag in hand, looking over your shoulder at him as if he’d asked you to slaughter a pig, a child, a whole bloody family.

The moment is tender, almost fragile.

It trembles under the weight of his question and the silence of your thoughts.

Then it stills—

“You don’t… you don’t have to do that…”

“What?”

Dashing the tea bag into the cup, you turn. Hips leaning against the counter, sigh falling from your swollen, pink lips as your arms fold. The air scented with that familiar smell your home always has—jasmine and pineapple, the sun kissing your toes and legs as your face shows thunder and rain.

The air shifts, changing. It’s speckled in ice with a cold breeze punctuated by you suddenly not able to meet his eyes.

“Date me. Change… this. I know that you… I know you don’t have time for that.”

Except he doesn’t hear that, he hears me.

He suspects you don’t say it to hurt him.

But it does.

It wounds—

It fucking burns. It’s on par with a bullet or a rusty knife, twisting and twisting until it’s hitting nerves and making muscles quake.

It worsens when the kettle clicks, ready—waiting. It blows steam under your cupboards, billowing out around the edges before it rushes to the ceiling. Twisting, turning, desperate to escape the uncomfortable space between the two of you.

But, he just wants to pull you close—impossibly close. He wants to cradle and fucking hug you, even if he never hugs anyone. Simon wants to tell you that he hasn’t been doing this with anyone else. That it’s been over a year of this, and even he knows it’s something.

Admittedly, yeah, he didn’t think he’d have fucking time for someone, and then you came in and blew that all to shit. But, on some level inside of him, he knows they aren’t the words he should be saying. So silence fills the space instead.

Doubling. Tripling. Expanding like foam and smoothing over crevices as you shift your weight from one foot to the other.

And he knows he should just ask again.

Softer. Maybe with a bit more emotion. Counting in his head. One. Two, fucking Three.

Your body turning, holding out a mug you got him—big, black with tiny ghosts on it. Because you’d pestered and pestered to know what he was called. What his alias is when he shoots people. The mug made you grin when you handed it to him last time—tired of him taking your favourite. The one with a quote from a television show you keep promising to show him. Sarcastic. Almost makes his teeth show when he smiles. He almost does the same when he takes the mug, and you turn away from him.

Now when he takes it, your eyes drop to the floor. To the space between the two of you.

The one which feels vast, and far larger than the bar ever felt.

All Simon wonders is why there’s a pit opening inside of him—why it is filling him with a feeling he wants to cut out of himself. It’s not light or nice, it’s dark and twisty.

Because he’s the same person who goes on stupid solo missions where the percentage of survival is low, and still fucking comes back to base with whatever was asked of him. He’s Ghost—a man who many fear. Who is often coated in more of other people’s blood than he is dirt.

And yet this—

You.

Terrify the living fuck out of him. Not that he’s showing that. He knows he’s stood with a stiff back, and a face devoid of any emotions.

“You said it when we first… Just… I know your job is important. I know you can’t commit and I respect—”

“Sweetheart.”

Your eyes meet his. Teeth biting your lip, arms crossing over your chest.

And shit, he hopes to never see this face ever again. This nervous, unsure face that he’s put there. One which complicates everything and pulls on every string inside of him.

You are an enigma, and he’s not even sure you know it.

You’re something he never deserves, something he never thought he’d have, get, or keep.

Yet, here you are.

Someone who has seen every inch of him. Knows what he does. Where he goes. You even know brief moments of his past, the parts of him that he’d rather take to the grave.

You are important. You matter.

He’s falling—free-falling, in fact—and has been for a while, he didn’t even acknowledge it. Pushing it down, letting it sit with all the other things he doesn’t want to deal with.

“Do’ya wanna go out with me tonight?”

Each word hits you, strokes you. He watches as each syllable lands, your eyes reading him.

“You back for long, Simon?”

His lips twitch. “Little bit.”

And then you smile. All devious and cunning, lips twisting as you unfold your arms and adjust your stance. “I think I’d prefer a takeaway. Keep you to myself, while I 'ave you.”

Standing, crossing the small space of your kitchen as he cages you in. Your hand clutching his cheek, soft, gentle, and more than he fucking deserves.

His head lowers, lips close to your ear as you curl your body into him as he whispers, all gruff and quiet so only you—and not a fly or spirit could hear—says, “I’ve always been just yours, sweetheart.”

Simon doesn't expect a response. More a kiss. Maybe even a roll of your hips.

It's why he doesn't expect the words, "I'd hoped so", or the way they make him feel like he's walking on air.

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daily-vitamin-ena · 5 months ago

Text

pharmacy lore goes crazy (thank you @wabatle for drawing the hospital >_<)

welcome to the first ever pharmacy! we only give out vitamin ena and nothing else. inbox is open!!

pharmacity map is currently closed due to me being very busy, personal issues, and executive disfunction. sorry for the inconvenience 3:

commonly asked questions

what does vitamin ena do for the body? -> keeps the heart pumping blood and blood pumping to the heart. no vitamin ena no heartbeat, just death.

what happens if you miss a day? -> you die (/joke you can always recover with more vitamins but yeah you do die so be dramatic in the inbox)

what happens if the PHARMACIST misses a day? -> more lawsuits! bad news for me.

can you take different vitamins or supplements while taking vitamin ena? -> many vitamins that are running in the pjsekai pharmacy community do not give the same affects as vitamin ena, they are safe to take at the same time.

can you take more than one vitamin ena at a time? -> NO. too much blood goes to your body and you explode. it is okay to catch up on days though, and if you have a doctor’s note that you submit in the inbox i will let you.

pharmacies masterlist

@daily-vitamin-ena

@daily-airimomoi-vitamins -> arg/horror elements !

@daily-vitamin-emu

@dailyvitamin-sakitenma -> arg/horror elements !

@daily-vitamin-honami -> arg/horror elements !

@daily-vitamin-kanade -> arg/horror elements !

@daily-vitamin-mafuyu

@mizuki-vitamins-daily

@daily-vitamin-an -> arg/horror elements !

@daily-vitamin-tsukasa

@vitamin-ichika

@akikasa-daily-dose

@daily-nightamins-at-25-00

@daily-vitamin-rui

@daily-vitamin-shizuku

@daily-vitamin-haruka

@daily-vitamin-akito -> arg/horror elements !

@the-nene-pharmacy

@daily-vitamin-nene

@daily-vitamin-minori

@daily-kohane-vitamins -> not horror but often interacts with horror/arg blogs !

@daily-vitamin-mmj-rin

@daily-vitamin-len -> arg/horror elements !

@daily-vitaminori

@daily-vitamin-touya -> arg/horror elements !

@daily-polysho-vitamins -> former arg blog, not anymore !

@daily-vitamin-shiho -> arg/horror elements !

@daily-sekai-luka-vitamins

@daily-vitamin-vbs

@vitamin-samo-chan

@daily-kaito-vitamin

@sekai-meiko-vitamins-everyday -> arg/horror elements !

@evilmafumomvitamins

@daily-miku-vitamins -> arg/horror elements !

@daily-vitamin-leoneed

@daily-mafuemu-vitamins

@daily-vitamin-mizuena

@daily-kanaena-vitamins

@daily-vitamin-ken

@the-best-daily-dose-of-vita-rui

@daily-kanamafu-vitamins

@dailydose-of-kazemaru -> arg/horror elements !

@daily-mafuena-vitamins

@daily-mizuki-vitamins

@daily-sekai-rin-vitamins

@daily-vitamin-sucrose

@daily-vitamin-tenma-siblings

@izumo-saki-vitamins -> arg/horror elements !

@semi-daily-vitamin-soyo -> arg/horror elements !

@robo-nene-vitamins

@moremore-vitamins

@pjsk-sidecharacters-pharmacy

water

@daily-miku-water

@daily-mafuyu-water

@daily-mizuki-water

@meikowater -> arg/horror elements !

@daily-kohane-water

unpharmacy mentions ><

@pharmacity-weekly

@untitled-vitamin

@roariescorner

jesus there are birds

@vitaenabirb

@vitairi-birb

important!! policy on shipping

with the addition of our first ship pharmacy (akikasa pharm) i want lots of my followers to understand my policy on ships.

i want you guys to respect the pairings that people ship (unless it’s illegal or a proship or incest obviously) and i would really prefer arguments and conflict over ships not to happen at this pharmacy. i don’t have a huge otp, and with a cast as big as prosekai i understand lots of pairings and why they’re shipped.

i don’t want these pharmacies to start having wars with each other!!! we’re bound together in culthood that should remain unbroken (/joke about the cult thing, but i really am enjoying this community.) thank you everyone!!

lore??

freddy fazbear / fnaf

chemical x / failed ena prototype (vitamin akito)

The Anarchy

otome kaibou imposter ena

vitamin ena day 16 massacre

neighboring pharmacies’ horror lores (they scare me)

omori

bear anon

vampire anon

𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂

shanti

ant invasion (unresolved)

@roariescorner

more to come probably!!

more info!

blog is run by a minor!!

i unfortunately do not take donations.

main blog is @rain-and-jellyfish go follow :3

go crazy in the inbox claim anon titles literally go crazy

pinned post will update frequently!!

THINGS MADE BY MY LOVELY FOLLOWERS!!!

credits in the alt !! YOU GUYS ARE SICK I LOVE YOU GUYS. also since i don’t want to upload all the pictures here, look at this post!! LOOK AT ALL THE PHARMACIES!! THEY LOOK SO NEAT

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bunnypeew · 9 months ago

Text

Under star lit skies -Moon/sun x reader part 2

WARNINGS: kind of depictions of violence

They are just lil guys

it was finally the saturday where you started your job at the pizzaplex, as you were getting ready you got another email from Fazbear, it said what you needed to do:

-clean up the daycare toy containers

-organise said toys

-put the kids to sleep

it was a short todo list but it seemed pretty normal until the last one. Wasn’t there moon putting the children to sleep? why did you need to do it? A lot of question flooded your mind but you tried to sho them away and continue getting ready.

you didn’t have a car, so you’d have to take the bus there, fortunately for you there was a bus specifically for getting to the pizzaplex, some sort of tourist trap you thought, but it was convenient for you so it’s a win.

As you arrived at the pizzaplex you noticed how many people actually came to this place on a whim, there were a bunch of families and teenagers alone as well, it was kinda nice to see everyone having fun in a way. It was a little crowded at the entrance so it took you a while to get inside but when you did you were hit by warmth and a smell of pizza in the air and the slight sound of music playing from the speakers on the roof. People were walking around the lobby either in group or alone, you were making your way though these people when you get grabbed by a cold metal hand and pulled out the crowd. You gather your surroundings turning around you see who pulled you, tall white animatronic, it was who you knew as Chica.

“hello sweets, you must be the new daycare attendant! welcome in hun!,,

she spoke in a eager voice, and with even an eager expression, she then gives to you a little freddy theme sack.

“here is your uniform! there is also a daycare themed jacket in there as a plus, have a good first day sugar,,

and with that she waved at you and runs towards a group of people that was waiting for her, you open the sack to see your uniform being really colourful and not at all what you expected but you didn’t complain (it probably had to do with the fact you were actually working in the daycare)

You still had the map from the last time you were here so you knew how to navigate yourself more or less. Fuck that it actually took you forever to get to the fucking daycare so when you actually arrived at the door you groaned out loud scaring a family that was probably leaving their kid there, you recomposed yourself tried then to find a changing room of some sorts. Not finding one you decided to just go to the bathroom and just change yourself in a stall, the uniform was rather colourful, it was divided in a blue and yellow way and full of stars and stripes, it also had the jacket that you decided to put on since it was pretty cool.

You then entered the Daycare finally, pushing your way through families and kids, you finally made your way towards the security desk, moving your belongings on top of it, you then look around: The place was full of kids running around and having fun and in all that chaos you finally saw Sun. He was doing arts&crafts with some kids on top of a playmat in the corner of the daycare, it was full of colours all around with toys and other things all displays in containers and shelves. You also noticed that the walls were full of kid-made drawings all around the daycare, you thought it was sweet.

You started approaching Sun and the kids, looking around the drawings that were already displayed and then stopped when you reached the playmat. Sun craned his head up from where he was sitting, sensing that someone had come closer to them.

“Oh my stars! You must be the new helper they sent our way! Golly it is truly a pleasure to meet you new friend! But I do advise you to take off your shoes, it gets yucky when you walk around on the playmats!,,

he says eagerly waging his tail around like a happy puppy at the same time he was moving around the pen he was holding. You looked shamefully at your shoes remembering that this morning you put on mismatched socks cuz you couldn’t find any pair (you were a real mess) but alas you had to take them off, so that you did putting them with the kids shoes on the specific shelves made for it.

You then got to work, spilling the toy containers to clean them and then putting the toys back in accordingly. To be honest it was a pretty easy job you weren’t complaining, the only thing that bothered you was you last task, getting the kids to sleep. Full disclosure you weren’t the best with kids so the thought that had to put each one of them to sleep was terrifying, you thought Moon was supposed to do that, thinking about it made you even more curious about what the fuck was going on so went to ask Sun about it

“hey Sun! can I ask you something?,,

“anything go ahead!,,

he said while wrestling some kids out the jungle gym, tail waging with some kids attached to it, seemed like they were having fun

“why did I get tasked with putting the kids to sleep isn’t Moon supposed to do that?,,

you ask very nonchalantly, smiling, waiting for a response. Sun tho stops smiling and his tail stops waging sending the kids in a sadden state, you got confused at this and tried to reach for him, but then he snapped back, tail waging again and smile back on his face

“oh don’t worry about that Sunshine! Moon is just currently out of service for no specific reason! not to worry, not to worry!,,

“okay…,,

you were very confused at this sudden change of emotions, but you didn’t wanna snoop in even more than you had to.

Hours had passed since you had finished your first tasks and since then you just hang out at the security desk, napping really, it wasn’t until Sun came to wake you up gently.

“hey, I know this is your first day and some stuff is hard, so i decided to help you out in putting the children to sleep! It’s not really in my programming but I could always try!,,

he spoke with a soft but still eager voice, you could tell he was trying his best to being quiet since so far he had been extremely loud. You smiled at that thinking it was sweet and then got up and stretched, you had some work to do.

You and Sun started to clean up some toys and colouring stuff that the kids had left around so you had space to put down the mattresses and blankets, when you were done with that the lights turned off all of a sudden making you gasp and making Sun stop what he was doing midway, he put the blanket down tucking in one of the kids and then started fidgeting with his hands looking away from you

“I’m sorry friend, i can’t help you further than this, be carful and have a nice nap time!,,

he mutters fatally under his breath and then starts running away, tripping over something and almost falling, he then gets hooked by a rope and pulled up to what you assumed was his room. He was quite a strange animatronic, he acted very human to you but you didn’t really mind it, it was cute. You tried to understand what he meant with be careful, you weren’t that bad to the point were you could lose the children (you probably were actually) so what did he mean by that?

You finished tucking in all the kids after half an hour of work, some kids were still in the jungle gym so you had to crumble yourself in two to get in and find them.

It was dark so you couldn’t see much but you started moving forward, calling for them in a low voice as not to wake the others.

clang

you started hearing like something was crawling outside the jungle gym, right on top of it too, you thought it was impossible for a kid to get there so you just assumed it was the natural sound it’d make (or something like that)

clang

BOOM

You were startled by the loud noise and stumbled back, something was on top of the tube you were in, you got scared looking up trying to understand what it could be, until you felt something grab your leg forcefully and pull you out of the jungle gym all in one. You felt pain in all your body, it wasn’t until you were you pulled up in the air that you opened your eyes.

“WHAT THE FUCK,,

“language,,

you screamed and then heard someone in a low voice say that next to you, you tried to turn around but were only spinned around the other way

“why are you snooping around in things that don’t concern you, brat,,

the low voice said again, it was until then that it clicked in your head that the only other thing that was were here with you it was either Sun or Moon, and Sun definitely didn’t sound like that.

“COULD YOU PUT ME DOWN PLEASE,,

you say all in one breath and surprisingly he did lower you down only to then flip you and take you by your throat slamming you against the security desk.

“no one asked for your help, leave,,

he started squeezing harder, making you lose breath you put your hands on his hand trying to get it off, it wasn’t until Sun appeared out of no where to stop his counterpart

“MOON! STOP they are a friend!! Please don’t hurt them,,

he shouted taking moon by the shoulder making his hand looser on your neck, making you fall on the ground coughing.

“Sun you are not supposed to be here,,

Moon says in a growl and looks at you then looks at Sun

He starts fidgeting and looks at you with sorry eyes, you started gathering your stuff ready to leave

what the fuck just happened.

#moondrop #sundrop #fnaf moondrop #fnaf security breach #sun and moon fnaf #fnaf fandom #fnaf sunrise #fnaf sun #fnaf sb #fnaf moon #fnaf #fnaf au #moon x y/n #moon x reader #sun x y/n #sun x reader

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justabigassnerd · 10 months ago

Text

Summer of Love pt. 2

Pairing - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x reader

Word count - 3,275

Warnings - mentions of medication, injuries

Summary - while in the final stages of recovery after a mission gone wrong, Bradley signs himself up to work at a summer camp just for something to do since Maverick has barred him from Navy work for the time being. meanwhile, you're in between jobs and figure working at a summer camp is some good experience. you meet Bradley and experience a romance you could've never expected (along with some very nosy kids)

Summer of Love masterlist

A/N - ya girl is back from the dead people! (did anyone cheer?) anyways I'm so sorry for the long break and I'm sorry this isn't the most exciting fic to return with like I'm fully aware it's mostly filler but I hope it can tide y'all over. if you guys have any ideas of what you'd like to see in the series you're more than welcome to let me know. as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!

With counsellor orientation now in full swing, you were spending a lot of your time getting used to the schedule of working at a summer camp. Early starts were no problem to you and neither was making lesson plans but getting used to the camp and the people you worked with was something you had to settle into. Thankfully, working alongside Bradley meant you already knew one person you’d be around a lot and he helped you feel a lot more confident when you met the other counsellors who’d be teaching field sports. You and Bradley had also been briefed on hikes that you’d be leading and you were able to map out appropriate trails for the hikes.

After a long day of going through lesson plans, running potential drills you could do during activities, and taking your swim test in case you wanted to go in the lake at any point, you were just about ready to collapse. You entered the staff lounge and flopped face down on the sofa with a dramatic groan, hearing the laughs of your friends you entered the room with after dinner.

“Tired?” Ella jokes, easing herself down on the other sofa as you turn your head to look at her.

“Just a little.” You reply with a laugh, flipping yourself onto your side as you greet other staff members who enter, moving to sit upright so people can sit on the sofa with you.

Bradley is among the last people to enter the room and by that point, both sofas are almost packed but upon spotting him, Freddy moves over on the sofa, leaving just enough space for Bradley to squeeze in between you and him.

“Hey, Bradley. There’s a space right here.” He points out, hand patting the free space with a grin as you fight the urge to roll your eyes. You knew Ella had already caught on to your schoolyard crush on Bradley, and you were sure she’d told Bradley’s friends too and that’s why they spent so much time trying to force you two to sit near each other when they could. You knew the chances of Bradley feeling the same towards you were slim so you were more than content to sit within the comforts of your friendship knowing after camp ends you’d go your separate ways and never talk to each other again. You just wanted to enjoy the time you had getting to be his friend without your friends forcing you close and potentially making Bradley uncomfortable.

“Is this okay?” Bradley’s voice shakes you from your thoughts as he eases into the gap between you and Freddy. You nod with a small smile, fighting back the flame you felt building behind your cheeks as Bradley’s leg brushed up against yours. The group of you continued to chat until the sun started to set and one by one people began to retire to their cabins for the night and you and Bradley were among the last to leave the staff lodge and took a moment between the two of you as you stepped out onto the grass and took in the night sky.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get bored of the sky at night.” You mumble, more so to yourself than to Bradley but seeing him look at you out of the corner of your eye gave away the fact that he had heard you.

“I wish I could show you how beautiful a night at the beach is where I live.” Bradley murmurs in response, his soft voice unknowingly fanning the flames that lit beneath your cheeks. You were sure he was just saying that to make conversation.

“I’ll just have to trust you on that one.” You say with a slight chuckle, glancing over at Bradley and locking eyes with him, bringing a small smile to your face as you do.

“That you will. Maybe I’ll send you a picture or something once I’m back home.” Bradley says, his smile mirroring yours. A silence falls over the two of you and you glance over your shoulder, breaking the eye contact for but a brief second to consider your next move.

“I should probably head back to my cabin to get some sleep.” You say, silently hating how awkward you sounded.

“I should probably do the same. We can’t exhaust ourselves before the kids have even arrived.” Bradley then says, watching as you bid him goodnight quietly before turning around and heading in the direction of your cabin.

“y/n, wait!” You stop in your tracks at Bradley’s voice. Loud enough to get you to stop but not loud enough to disturb anyone nearby. You turned around and waited as Bradley approached you.

“I just wanted to ask you if you wanted to run a couple of soccer drills with me tomorrow. I have some ideas for some warmups but I’m going to need a partner to make sure they work before the kids arrive.” Bradley says, hoping and praying you agreed to help him out. He could’ve asked anyone on the field sports team for help but he wanted you to help him.

“Okay, but you know I’m not the best at soccer so if I mess up, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” You say, a smile breaking out across yours and Bradley’s faces as he lets out the smallest of relieved sighs at your agreement.

“You’ll be great, I just know it. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Bradley says, smiling as you nod and wish him a good night before you both retire to your cabins for the night. When you reach your cabin you enter quietly, aware of the people sleeping and quietly get ready for bed before crawling under the covers and falling asleep.

Meanwhile, Bradley entered his cabin and immediately got jumped by his cabin mates who were demanding to know what he said to you.

“You know, I’m going to be so grateful tomorrow when I no longer have to share a cabin with you guys. I swear you give the Daggers a run for their money.” Bradley jokes as he sits down on his bed, rubbing at his eyes.

“We’re just invested now come on! Did you ask her out?” Nathan asks, placing his book down on the bedside table by his bed and giving Bradley his full attention.

“What? No! We’ve only known each other a week. Besides, once we leave camp we’ll probably never speak again. That’s just what happens.” Bradley says with a shrug, leaning back and lying across his bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“Dude, you can just get her number or something.” Cameron shrugs, confident he has solved all the problems singlehandedly. Bradley couldn’t help but let out a gentle sigh at his words.

“I thought some friends I made in the naval academy were going to be people I kept in contact with but the moment we got our deployments that was it. None of us spoke again.” Bradley says, thinking back to the recruits Bradley had befriended during training and then again at flight school and Top Gun. Outside of the Daggers, Bradley had made no solid connections with any other Navy personnel. He of course appreciated the efforts of his cabin mates, but he was sure their efforts were in vain.

“That doesn’t mean y/n would do that to you. I can tell she likes you.” John then says, a quiet falling over the group as all focus ends up on Bradley.

“Okay, well if you didn’t ask her out. What did you ask her then?” Nathan asks when Bradley doesn’t respond to John’s words.

“I just asked if she wanted to run some soccer drills with me tomorrow to potentially add to lesson plans.” Bradley replies, propping himself up on his elbows and glancing around at the group as they all exchange looks.

“And she said yes?” Cameron prompts, the three breaking out into smiles when Bradley nods. They all exchanged a look when Bradley returned his attention to the cabin ceiling. They knew they couldn’t force you or Bradley to admit anything but they could at least nudge you both in the right direction.

“We should probably get some sleep, huh?” John says after a couple of minutes of silence, followed by the agreement of everyone else who quickly get themselves ready for bed and switch off their cabin light to get some sleep.

The next morning, you awoke to your alarm and slowly dragged yourself out of bed to get yourself changed and ready for the day. Once you were dressed, you made your way to the dining hall to grab breakfast, located your cabin mates sat at a table and joined them once you had your food. As you ate, Kerry stood at the front of the room and addressed everyone, letting you know that the first port of call for the day was to find out your cabins for the summer and to move your stuff into your new cabin before creating a poster to hang up on the outside of the cabin to make the kids feel a bit more welcomed and to give their cabin a sense of community straight out of the gate before you’d spend the rest of the afternoon after lunch finishing up your last few chances to prepare lessons for when the kids arrive. After you all finished breakfast, you were dismissed and each grabbed an envelope with your name on it to find out which cabin you’d be in for the duration of camp and once you got out of the dining hall you opened your envelope and flipped the postcard over, studying the writing on it.

“Hey, y/n, what cabin did you get?” Ella asks, sidling up alongside you with her own postcard in hand.

“Cabin eleven. What about you?” You reply, tearing your eyes away from your postcard to look at Ella.

“I’m in cabin five with Alex as my co-counsellor. I’m so excited!” Ella says happily, embracing you excitedly before rushing off to find her co-counsellor. You watched her leave before focusing your attention back on your own postcard. You knew cabin eleven would be a cabin of four girls so you wouldn’t have a co-counsellor but you were okay with that. You were just excited for camp to start properly. When you notice some of the other female counsellors beginning to make their way back to their cabins to move their belongings to their new cabins you begin to follow the crowd, chatting with some of them as you go.

Meanwhile, Bradley had just finished telling his friends about what cabin he was going to be in and turned around in search of you. His smile faltered when he couldn’t find you and instead saw the back of you as you disappeared down the girl's cabin line. He wanted to go and talk to you about your new cabin placement but he also knew he needed to worry about moving all his stuff to the new cabin. He spared you one last glance before turning around and heading in the direction of the boy's line of cabins.

After moving all of your belongings from cabin six to cabin eleven, making your bed and tidying your bags away after putting some of your belongings on the bedside table such as your alarm clock, hairbrush, a book to read, and your notebook filled with lesson plans. After sorting yourself out, you headed over to the arts and crafts room to join everyone in making posters and chore wheels for the cabins. There weren’t many people present when you first arrived but as you began to work on your poster more people slowly trickled in. Kerry had gone around and given everyone a list of names of the kids in your cabins so you could learn their names before they arrived and put them on the chore wheel and poster. You got to work, creating a poster and chore wheel for your cabin. As you finished the poster and moved on to the chore wheel, carefully writing out each chore, a sheet of paper appeared in your peripheral vision and you glanced over to see Bradley easing himself down next to you, and you didn’t miss the way he winced a little as he sat down.

“Are you okay?” You ask quietly, not wanting to draw attention to Bradley potentially being in any pain if he didn’t want you to.

“I’m good, must’ve pulled something in my back moving all my gear. I had a feeling I packed too much.” Bradley says with a chuckle, trying to ease your mind so you didn’t worry about him and trying his best to ignore the way the lie tugged at his heart.

“Maybe take some painkillers later if it’s still sore.” You say sympathetically, briefly averting your gaze back to the task at hand as you write a name on the wheel before returning your attention to Bradley who nods minutely.

“I’ll see how I feel later.” Bradley says with a slight shrug, not wanting to dwell on the subject any longer than he needs to. You nod silently and the two of you remain in the comfortable silence between you as you work on your posters and chore wheels.

“You know… I’m not sure how much a cabin of four thirteen-year-old boys will appreciate a poster on the outside of the cabin, let alone a chore wheel.” Bradley mutters, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye as you let out a small giggle at his words.

“I don’t think my cabin of twelve-year-old girls will appreciate it much either but you gotta do what you gotta do. Besides you might win cool points with your naval aviator career. I’m sure they’d love hearing some of your stories.” You say, shrugging lightly as you put your pen down, satisfied with both your poster and your chore wheel. You stay put for a few more minutes, continuing to chat with Bradley until his friends come over and you excuse yourself so you can go and put the poster and chore wheel where they needed to be.

“I’ll see you at lunch.” You say as you grab your things and address the group, but mostly aiming your words at Bradley as you smile softly.

“See you at lunch.” Bradley echoes, his smile matching yours as you then turn to head to your cabin to put the items in their respective places before heading to the dining room where they are just beginning to serve lunch. You grab yourself a plate and dish up the food in front of you before grabbing a seat at one of the nearby tables, and slowly but surely your friends arrive and sit with you. Ella arrived first with Alex, having had the ability to split the task between two people, and then Bradley and Freddy came up next and spotted the three of you, quickly grabbing their food and joining you at the table with smiles.

“All done with setting up your cabins?” Alex asks after finishing a mouthful of food.

“Just about. It’s starting to feel like a real summer camp now.” Freddy says with a laugh.

“Was the fact that we’re in the middle of the woods with a lake nearby not enough of a hint?” Bradley jokes, making everyone laugh. When you all finish lunch, you clean up and then head outside to enjoy the rest of your afternoon.

“Hey, y/n, let’s grab a soccer ball so I can run that drill with you.” Bradley says and you nod, following him to the equipment cupboard and waiting for him to grab a ball before heading to the field to practice it. Bradley talks you through what he wants to try, making sure his instructions are clear and taking any advice you have to offer to make it clearer for when he teaches it to the children. Once you have been briefed on what the drill would entail you start the activity. After gaining some confidence, you’re able to tackle the ball off of Bradley a couple of times but when you decided to attempt a shot on goal just for a bit of fun you somehow missed the ball entirely and ended up sprawled on your back on the floor staring up at the sky.

“y/n! Are you okay?” Bradley’s face suddenly appears above you, his worried expression soon becoming a look of amusement when he realises that you’re laughing at the whole thing.

“Trust me to fall over literally nothing.” You laugh as you begin to sit up, stopping when Bradley offers a hand to you which you accept with a smile, allowing him to haul you to your feet but your smile faltered when he winced once more.

“Bradley, are you okay?” You ask, now even more concerned at him being in pain.

“Yeah, I’m fine. My shoulder’s acting up again.” Bradley says, making you fight the urge to speak up. He’d claimed his back had a pulled muscle earlier and now it was his shoulder? You were confused at his contradiction but you weren’t going to call him out on it. The most you could do is keep an eye on him.

“Just… take some painkillers. It’ll really help.” You say softly, picking up the soccer ball and walking with Bradley over to the equipment shed to return the ball.

“I will.” Bradley replies. Hating himself even more for lying but the lingering pain from his accident was manageable, he had just wrongly assumed that missing one day of his prescribed medicine would be okay since the pain hadn’t been bad recently, even with the activities he was partaking in.

“Maybe we should spend the rest of the afternoon going over our hike plans, just to make sure we have them sorted.” You offer, wanting Bradley to relax a little and not overexert himself. You may not know the cause of his pain or even where it lies but you did know you wanted to help your friend however you could.

“That sounds like a plan. Let’s grab our notebooks and meet on that bench just by the dining hall.” Bradley says and you nod before parting ways to return to your cabins to grab your notebook before heading to the bench and meeting Bradley. The two of you spend time comparing notes and revising anything that needs a second look at before it comes time for dinner and the two of you make your way up into the dining hall and have dinner, still discussing ideas before your friends join you.

When you all finish dinner you exit the dining hall and instead of heading to the staff lounge like you usually did in your evenings, you decide to head back to your cabin to prepare yourself for when the children arrive tomorrow afternoon. You bid your friend's goodnight and head back along the path that leads you to your cabin and enter the small building, flipping the light on as you do so. You decide to get a headstart on getting ready for bed and so go for a shower and change into your pyjamas before returning to your cabin, lying on your bed and reading your book as the sun finally sets. When a wave of tiredness overcomes you, you decide to close your book, set your alarm, and hit the hay, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to fall asleep both excited and nervous for the chaos that is to come tomorrow.

taglist (comment or ask to be added):

@noz4a2 @kim-stark @jessicab1991 @myxticmoon @burningwitchprincess @casuallyeating @adoringanakin @iamabeautifulperson18

#justabigassnerd #justabigassnerd writes #summer of love #summer of love universe #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fic #top gun maverick fic #rooster top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw #rooster x y/n #rooster x reader #rooster #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw

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inezrable · 10 months ago

Text

Introduction Post

Hi! I'm Ezra, though I may have more names in future. Welcome! Here are some things i'm into:

OurGoodShadows

Doctor Who

Blackpool

Sherlock

BBC Ghosts

David Tennant and Michael Sheen

Takin' Over The Asylum

Queen/Freddie Mercury

Millionaires (the band)

Ride The Cyclone

Heathers

Bright Young Things

Yellowjackets

My fav Youtubers: Matt Rose, Izzzyzzz, Lily Simpson

My pronouns are he/she/they/star/xe/it

Edit: here is my pronouns page

And here is my ao3 go leave a nice comment for me over there (PLEASE. US AO3 AUTHORS ARE STARVIN' 'ERE)

Crowley ask blog @serpent-of-eden-666

Looking for good omens fanart ideas? @good-omens-art-prompts

Dni: radfems (terfs and trans inclusive) homophobes, racists, "MAPs" (pedos), zoophiles, transphobes, Trump voters, or just general dickheads. Rudeness is not tolerated on this blog.

But as long as you're not harming anyone, you are welcome to interact. If you are mean, I will block you.

My awesome sibling: @ferretinatoiletroll

#about me #introduction #introductory post

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pollunam · 5 months ago

Text

Flaws. Part 6.

"We’ve received an urgent message. Hurry, come here,” Freddie shouted.

His voice sounded as if it came from a parallel world. I pulled away from Anders, lowering my eyes. “It’s time to go.”

On the table, among the plates, lay a map over which the men were bent.

“‘Duchess’ will leave the port three days earlier.”

“We’re already at full speed,” Graham shook his head. “We won’t make it on this route.”

“If we take another route, we’ll run into our fleet,” Gus reminded.

“But we have no other options,” Jeffrey said. “The only thing we can do is cut through here,” he traced a line on the map with his finger.

“Dangerous.”

“Who among us cares?”

Everyone exchanged glances.

“Alright, we’ll go this way. Hesse, how many days will it take?”

“Twelve, at least.”

Gus nodded. “That will do. Well, Y/N, thanks for dinner.”

“You’re welcome,” I nodded, still in a foggy state.

“Peace?” Jeffrey extended his pinky to me, just like in our childhood.

“Peace.” I extended mine, remembering how we used to fight and make up only in this way.

“The smell of fresh bread just came back to me,” Appleyard smiled. Those were pleasant memories, which always made me feel light and sad at the same time, but now I couldn’t even focus on the conversation, let alone find my way back to the distant past where we used to run carefree to the stream, fall, and fight with bullies. Truth be told, we were the bullies: Jeffrey, my brother, and I.

But now there was no one left. The internal coordinates had shifted, leaving only two points on the plane: me and Anders.

He smoked silently, glancing at me, shy and embarrassed. I felt a cocktail of emotions, a mix of euphoria and slight fear. Indeed, love scares me more than blood, fights, gunshots, and death. Gradually, the cabin emptied, some went outside to smoke in the fresh air, others to carry out their duties on the ship. We were left alone, separated by the room, a distance that Anders crossed in a matter of seconds, pulling me into a kiss. Bold. Confident and sharp.

He smelled like salt water, tobacco, firecracker smoke, and ash, like strong whiskey and a stormy sky.

At this moment, you can truly go insane. And now I knew this for sure. They say we live only once, but we can die many times. If all of this is entirely true, then I am ready to live and die only like this and only with him.

Anders stepped back. I was breathing heavily, but hearing footsteps, I carefully turned away from Lassen and started tidying up the bedding, constantly gathering my unruly hair.

“What are you doing?” Graham suspiciously eyed us. Anders remained unruffled, “Odd question, Hesse.”

“I just don’t want any quarrels or tension.”

Oh, yes. Tension – the most comprehensive word to describe almost any situation.

“Everything’s fine,” I tugged at the corners of my lips, “don’t worry.”

“Alright, if you say so.” Graham climbed to the top bunk.

I hid behind the book I kept under the pillow, begging the main characters to take me with them into their intricate conversations and plot twists. My eyes ran over the lines, tripping over commas, but I couldn’t catch the meaning of the book. The kiss still lingered on my lips. Anders left the cabin, and Graham’s head immediately hung over the edge of the bed, peering at me, “Are you sure everything’s alright?”

“What do you mean?”

“It was just too quiet in here.”

“Believe me, it would be bad if it were loud in here.”

“Something’s not right, I can feel it, you know?”

“With your gut?”

“Something like that.”

“Graham, you just want to gossip, but I have nothing to tell you.”

“When you decide to, remember, I’m your best friend here.”

I laughed, agreeing.

Soon all the beds were occupied, the light was out, and only the ghostly shimmer of stars occasionally penetrated the cabin through the swaying curtains. Inside me, a fire was burning, and energy was stirring, making me want to run out, climb the rocky shore, and dive into the water, feeling it close over my head like a dense dome. I heard Anders get up from his place; he gently touched me, then let the cold wind in through the slightly open door and disappeared into the night. I quietly slipped out after him, grabbing a warm turtleneck sweater.

“Knew you wouldn’t fall asleep.”

“After what you did, I can forget about sleep.”

He smiled. “It was worth it anyway.”

We stood side by side, gazing at the celestial canvas.

“You know, there’s a Scandinavian legend about a sea monster. The god Odin was so afraid of the devastation this creature could cause the universe that he placed it where it could do the least harm. He threw the small serpent Jörmungandr into the ocean that surrounds Midgard. In the Midgard Sea, Jörmungandr grew so large that he could encircle the whole world and hold his own tail in his mouth. That’s why he’s called Jörmungandr, which in Old Norse means ‘Earth’s Necklace.’ So the Aesir conferred and threw the serpent into the great ocean that surrounds Midgard. Over the years, the world serpent grew so much that it flooded many coastal villages, and people had to relocate. They say Jörmungandr still lies at the bottom of the ocean, encircling Midgard, and he is not pleased with those who venture into his domain.” Anders’s voice floated in the halls of my mind, painting pictures of mighty gods and a giant serpent sleeping under a water canopy.

“What do the legends say about love?”

Anders looked at me, his gaze soft and warm, he reached out, entwining our fingers. “I only know one, but it’s sad, I warn you. It was a long time ago, so long it’s hard to imagine. The goddess Freyja and the god Od were an inseparable pair, their love exemplary in many ways, but one day Od disappeared. It was a tragedy for Freyja; she set out to find him, fearing nothing, but the pain of her loss never subsided, and as she searched for Od, her tears turned into gold, which is now called amber.”

“They never found each other?”

“No, to this day, there are many theories about where Od went.”

“Even in this sad story, there is much beauty.”

Anders moved closer, hugging me by the shoulders. “It’s still better when people are found.”

“I was right, you’re a romantic.”

“Only when no one’s watching.”

The ocean drove a piercing wind, but I felt warm in his embrace. I rested my head on his shoulder, listening to the movement of the waves. Somewhere inside, doubts and questions began to stir, but not now. I would think about it later, even if I regretted it.

We sat on the stern all night, talking. Anders gently adjusted my hair, stroked my palm, and smiled. I told him about my childhood in a small village, how I broke my arm falling from a tree, and how my brother and I once stole apples from a neighbor. Lassen’s stories were so similar to mine, like two identical tales unfolding parallel to each other.

We both had lost loved ones and knew the bitterness of that pain like no one else.

“You know, this is so unlike me,” he began. “When you boarded the ship with such simplicity and ease. I mean, it was as if nothing bothered or worried you, you just were, and that’s all. It struck me from the first glance.”

I listened intently to his revelation, not hiding a half-smile.

“And then, how can someone look like the most harmless and kind creature, yet in a second mercilessly perform their job?”

“You do that too,” I noted.

“It feels different from my side. I also think I like you a lot.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you’d better decide for sure as soon as possible.”

Anders laughed. “Alright, I’ll try right now.” He moved closer, running his hand over my cheek. “I like you very much, and that’s for sure.”

“Just don’t tell anyone, Viking,” I replied in his manner, smiling.

The dawn rose over the water, leaving behind a night filled with conversations and laughter, as we quietly slipped into the cabin. I dove under the blanket, feeling infinitely in love, and the sparks of this emotion bubbled inside, hitting my head like champagne and knocking me off my feet.

I don’t know how long I lay there, unable to close my eyes, but soon Gus woke up, jumping down from the top bunk and stretching. He woke Graham, then Anders. I was sure he hadn’t had much sleep either.

“You slept like that?” Graham rubbed his eyes, looking at Anders in his sweater.

“Sleeping on the floor is chilly.”

“I heard someone going out at night, is everything alright?” Gus pulled on his favorite sweater, placing his hands on his hips. It was clear who was in charge here.

“Smoking,” Lassen replied calmly.

“Something’s not right,” Hesse repeated, “I’m just sure something is happening right under our noses.”

“Could you be any louder?” Jeffrey grumbled. “Make sure everyone hears you.”

I was sure all eyes were on me.

“Alright, on to a new day,” Gus said, walking out.

Freddie was slowly crawling out of his sleeping bag, “What now?”

“Don’t sleep, my friend,” Graham extended his hand to help him up.

For some reason, my heart was pounding wildly as I too climbed out from under the blanket; it seemed my nonchalance was too forced.

“Coffee?” Anders offered.

I nodded, then met Hesse’s most disarming gaze, “And you’re sleeping in a sweater?”

Damn. Of course, I usually sleep in pajamas, but you can’t sit all night on the deck in them.

“It was cold.”

Jeffrey approached from behind, crossing his arms over his chest, “You’re lying. I know when you’re lying.”

“Bluffing, Apple. I know a lot about you too,” I stood in the same pose. “Is this starting again?”

“No, just why would you lie?” He raised his hands in the air as if surrendering, but his “but” was a low blow.

“First prove I’m lying, then we’ll talk.” I took a cup of coffee from Anders. I didn’t know if he made it for himself or me, but I quickly decided. Judging by his heavy sigh, it wasn’t for me.

Freddie was still standing, sleepily staring at one spot, “I really don’t understand anything.”

I shook my head, walking out onto the deck under Jeffrey’s gaze. Lassen chuckled, turning away from everyone and immersing himself in the preparation of the most magical drink in the world.

#anders lassen #anders lassen × reader #fanfic #female reader #the ministry of ungentlemanly warfare #reqs open #request

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