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ms-demeanor · 1 day

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You posted about adhd and I was hoping to follow up to clarify something. I’ve explained to my partner a million times about how the borderline-hoarding mess of his space is very mentally draining to me, and he understands but we’ve both essentially accepted he won’t clean his mess because he can’t because of his adhd. You’re saying he’s actually being a shit head?

This isn't necessarily an issue of him being a shithead, but it also isn't a sustainable situation. It's not good for you and there's a level of clutter that's probably not good for him either.

Large bastard is a lot more clutter-y than I am. The solution we've come to is trying to keep our messes at least isolated from one another; he can have his messes and I can have mine, but he can have those messes in his spaces, not all over the place. Sometimes those messes migrate, and that's when it's important for him to make the effort to rein them in rather than trying and failing to make a daily effort to keep our entire shared space tidy.

I think when you say "we've both essentially accepted he won't clean his mess" what I'm hearing is resignation; you're not happy about this but you don't know what to do so you've thrown up your hands and he feels helpless and unsure of what to do to improve the situation. This is the kind of "it's fine" that isn't really fine.

I think it would be worthwhile for you to each separately think about the mess and talk about it together. Are there areas that YOU *need* to have not-messy? Both for utility and your mental health? Are there areas where you can tolerate more mess than otherwise? Are there areas that are going to be harder for him to keep the mess out of than others? Are there things he doesn't *know* about cleaning up the mess?

I'm obviously a big "communication communication communication" person so I'm going to recommend a lot of talking about stuff, which is probably going to mean a lot of thinking about and interrogating stuff. I'm going to say "talk to him about why the mess bothers you" which means you also have to really articulate to yourself why the mess bothers you (for instance I'm not actually *bothered* by a messy kitchen, but I know it's going to reflect badly on us - and me specifically b/c of presumed gender roles - if someone pops by and the kitchen is a disaster, AND a messy kitchen is going to be harder to use). Genuinely, sometimes knowing *why* something is a problem might make it easier for someone with ADHD to do something. And it's not that he doesn't care that it upsets you, it's just that "Oh if I don't wash my breakfast dishes Anon won't have clear counterspace to make lunch" might be stickier in his brain (and less hard to look at emotionally) than "this thing I forget to do upsets my partner so I should do it."

For the record, I think that people with ADHD should read up on Demand Avoidance and see if it might explain some of the issues that they have in their day-to-day life; I've seen some really unfortunate situations with friends where trying to do things that their partner needed became the subject of demand avoidance. *I* have experienced negative outcomes of demand avoidance. The solution to that, however, isn't to stop making attempts to do the thing OR to simply try harder to do as they're asked/told (which reinforces the demand), it's to work on setting up a situation where the partners' needs are not interpreted as a demand. This is fuck-off difficult and requires a lot of patience and care and many attempts to succeed and will be different for each person and relationship.

(Also for the record demand avoidance isn't *super* strongly linked to ADHD and it's not a definitive symptom; like Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, it is something that occurs in some number of people with ADHD and can be a useful lens through which to examine various behaviors; you don't need to have DA or RSD to have ADHD, and having DA or RSD also doesn't invalidate your diagnosis; they're symptoms. For me, DA often feels like "if I don't look at it, it can't get me" - If I ignore all the messages I've got they aren't real and don't have real consequences so I'll just ignore my texts. If I don't look at the vendor email about the order, the problem with the order isn't real and it won't get added to my task list. If I don't look at the requests in my inbox I can't let people down when I don't do them. It's a self-protective coping mechanism but it's *maladaptive* and I can't just ignore the vendor email or all my texts. I need to work on a way of doing the stuff that I'm avoiding in a way that makes it less stressful and doesn't hurt the people relying on me. That takes a lot of effort, personal insight, trial and error, and )

But before I dive into specifics I want to be really really clear about one thing: sometimes people are simply incompatible. Sometimes one person has such a low tolerance for "mess" and the other person has such a high threshold for "mess" that it can't be reconciled. It sucks that this can end up being a thing that people break up over, but it is MUCH better to acknowledge incompatibility as early as possible instead of spending years and years building resentment.

There used to be a great forum called MiL's Anonymous that I spent a lot of time on. It had a lot of people in a lot of difficult situations struggling to get by and hold their relationships together. The question that was used as a litmus test to approach each situation was simple: If you knew today that everything about living with this person would be the same in five years, would you stay?

Because you can't control your partner. You can't control the future. You can only control yourself and your proximity to situations that are harmful to you. If you knew, 100%, that things wouldn't get better in five years, would you be okay with staying in this relationship? If the answer is "no," then that's that. Don't worry about questions of whether or not your boyfriend is a shithead, start the process of ending the relationship because there's a good chance the situation is going to be exactly the same in five years.

If the answer is "yes," and you'd stay in the relationship regardless of whether or not things changed, then it's time to take actions to improve your life within the context of the relationship.

(No judgement on that yes or no, btw. If you would hate living like this for another five years, and you would feel like you'd wasted your time and hadn't done the things you wanted to with your life, get out. Bail. Go. It will be better for you and better for your partner if you split instead of spending half a decade building resentments and and problems that you'll have to spend another half a decade healing from.)

Also, a note: you describe your boyfriend's mess as borderline hoarding - is the issue *mess* or is the issue *clutter*? I have friends who are very tidy, but whose homes are very cluttered. They like things, they have many things, they keep many things around, but their houses are always clean and well-dusted and orderly, just with a tremendous amount of *stuff.* I am addressing all of this as though the issue is mess, not clutter. If your boyfriend's situation is clutter (the space is busy and packed with things but it is functional and clean) and your issue isn't with *mess* (things out of place, things not having a place, things that need to be cleaned up gathering in stacks, falling behind on regular chores like laundry and dishes and taking out the trash) then you definitely need to assess whether or not you are compatible.

For instance here's a room that is messy but not cluttered compared to a room that is cluttered but not messy:

That first room is a *mess* but it would be very easy to clean up in under an hour. The second room is fairly tidy, but would take significant effort to pare down and declutter. BOTH of these can be difficult to live with but the second one is not dangerous or threatening to anyone's health. (The second one is QUITE cluttered and if every room in a house looks like this it can be overwhelming to live with; this is actually harder to deal with in a relationship than the first one in a lot of ways. I don't have a lot of advice for what to do if your partner is a high degree of tidy-but-cluttered because I don't actually think it's a problem or wrong to have thousands of books or bins full of lego or a million kitchen appliances as long as you have the space and can keep it safe and well-maintained; this is a really significant compatibility issue)

Okay, all that out of the way, here's the hard work.

Talk about this shit

Talk to your partner and define "mess." Make sure you are on the same page about what you mean when you're talking about what a messy room looks like versus what a tidy room looks like. Gather reference pictures. DRAW reference pictures.

Explain not just that the mess upsets you, but *why* and *how* it upsets you. In this context don't think of it as your boyfriend's mess, think of it as an unpleasant roommate. Discuss this using "I-statements". "When I have to pick up laundry all over the apartment, I feel like a parent more than a partner." "When there are piles of miniatures all over the table, I feel like I don't have anywhere to do things I'm interested in." "When there are dishes in the sink, I feel frustrated because I have to clean before I can feed myself."

Discuss, frankly and openly, whether he knows how to clean. I'm not trying to make excuses for him here but a lot of people with ADHD have a lot of stress and avoidance around cleaning because they spent a lot of time getting yelled at for not knowing how to clean properly.

Discuss your needs, be firm about what you require but willing to compromise. You *need* some spaces to be clean, and some spaces may be harder for him to keep clean than others. It may be MUCH harder for him to keep a bedroom tidy than it is to keep a kitchen tidy; if you need a clean and empty bedroom with everything put away and he simply cannot do that, that is a compatibility issue. But perhaps you need *your* side of the bedroom to be very orderly and can tolerate a moderate level of mess and clutter on his side. Maybe you're really really bothered by a messy kitchen, but it doesn't bug you if the dining table is covered with projects and papers. Figure out something more workable than "his mess goes everywhere and i live with it because he's incapable of cleaning" because he probably is not incapable of cleaning and you deserve to have places in your home that are comfortable for you.

Reduce friction for cleaning

Sometimes the problem isn't cleaning, the problem is the many many steps before cleaning, or not knowing where something should go when you are done cleaning. One of the absolute best things I've done for myself for cleaning my space is getting a broom holder and mounting the broom to the wall. Sweeping is now essentially thoughtless. I don't have to find the broom or pull it out from a pile of fans or go scrounging around for a dustpan it's right there on the wall, frictionless. So here are some ways to reduce the barriers to cleaning:

Make sure you and your partner both know how to use your cleaning supplies and know where those supplies are. When I switched dishwasher soap I had to re-show Large Bastard where I was storing it and how it was used, because to him what happened was the dishwasher tabs just vanished one day and he didn't know what I was putting in the machine or the process I used. He sometimes puts tools away in places that I can't see (he's more than a foot taller than me) so sometimes I can't get started on a maintenance project until he shows me where he put the battery pack for the drill.

Consider making a how-to chart to or having him make a how-to chart to keep someplace accessible so he can reference it while cleaning. Goblin.Tools Magic ToDo is great for this. Basically a lot of the time people with ADHD have trouble knowing what to do from step to step even if they've done something before, so having a step by step guide can make it easier (I have notebooks full of step-by-step guides for everything from paying for my tuition to removing licenses for my customers to weeding my yard)

Remove obstacles; don't keep cleaning chemicals in the garage in a box that's behind a stack of parts, keep them in the room you'll be cleaning. Don't keep the cleaning supplies that you use to clean the bathroom in the kitchen. Sometimes this means buying two bottles of bleach solution and two scrubbers and two sets of cleaning gloves but having fewer steps (fetch the windex, fetch the paper towels, fetch the gloves) is often the key to getting things done (open under-sink cabinet and grab windex, gloves, and paper towels that are there instead of in the kitchen).

This sort of overlaps with the next category, which is:

Create Dump Zones

One thing that I've found that seems very different between people with ADHD cleaning and neurotypical people cleaning is that neurotypical people are good at getting to a point where the cleaning is "done." They have checked off their tasks and they have finished and it is over. There are *SOME* chores that are like this (taking out the trash is a binary state, the trash has been taken out or it has not) and some chores are perpetual (horrid cursed dishes) but I think with people with ADHD, some chores that are binary for neurotypicals are actually perpetual chores. For instance "clean off the counter" is not a one and done for me. "Clean off the counter" may involve a three day reorganization project. "Clean off the counter" does not mean "wipe down the tile and put dishes away" it means assessing whether or not I need to make vegetable stock and bleaching three tea containers and reconsidering whether or not the sharps container should live somewhere else and going through the mail and figuring out what needs to be responded to and taking out the recycling and on and on and on.

We have had company at the house for the last two weeks, so I asked large bastard to clean off the dining room table, which is largely a project zone for him. Cleaning off the dining room table meant putting away his meds (and since he's a transplant patient that involves a 30 gallon rubbermade tote), throwing away some trash, and totally reorganizing his workshop. It also incidentally involved picking up a table from facebook marketplace and moving my plants, which has now involved moving my former plant rack outside (moving buckets, finding and organizing planters and gardening tools) and taking the former table to the thrift store (not done yet) and cleaning the rug that was under the former table. So "either the table is clean, or it isn't" isn't really true for us.

HOWEVER "hang on we can't eat until the table is clear so let's drive to Pico Rivera to get that console table right now" isn't a workable plan, so you create dumpzones as areas of holding between the start and the finish of the chore.

A dump zone can be a laundry basket. It can be a craft bin. It can be a back room or under your bed. It is a place to put things that you are going to deal with later because if you deal with them now it is going to derail the thing you are actually trying to do, which is set the table for dinner.

Dump zones are vital to cleaning with ADHD and I recommend them for day-to-day cleaning as well. The day-to-day dump zones might be more for you than for your boyfriend. For instance, Large Bastard works with bullets and he sheds bullets all over the house. I used to get stressed when I found bullets when I was cleaning because are these work bullets? Are these recreational bullets? Are they in testing? Do they need to be pulled? Do they go in the workshop or the office or the garage or does he need these today so they have to stay on the counter? And the answer now is "that's not my problem naughty bullets go in the jar." Which is perfectly sensible because he gets to say "mystery yarn goes in the bin" and "art supplies go in the bucket."

I feel helpless when cleaning a lot of the time. I'm frustrated and lost and I don't know where stuff goes and everything I pick up spins off into three projects in my head and every step feels like a wall to scale. Dump zones help me with that when there's pressure or a reason for cleaning beyond day to day home maintenance. People are coming over? The bedroom is a dump zone, I'll deal with that later. I'm just cleaning up because I need to? Okay I can find a permanent home for this new dish soap.

AS A VERY IMPORTANT COROLLARY TO THIS:

Active projects do not go in dump zones while you or your partner are cleaning. This may mean designating a project sanctuary area like a corner of the table or one particular chair in your main room where a project can be placed so as not to be disturbed. (if my current crochet project ends up in the yarn bin, that may mean that I don't pick the project up for another three months, it lives on the windowsill behind the couch because that's where it'll get worked on)

Do not put things away for your partner, put them in the dump zone for your partner. Your partner has to be the one to put their own stuff away in a way that works for them. I tend to find that this naturally puts a limit on the time stuff sits in the dump zone, because eventually you'll go "hey where's my thing?" and will put stuff away. If that doesn't happen, it's still generally better to have stuff in a dump zone than all over the home.

Do not decide you know what things go together from your partner's stuff and try to "put like things together." The neurotypical urge to put like things together is the mindkiller(j/k). You do not know which things are "similar" in your partner's organization schema and attempting to organize things on your own is going to end up with all of the things "organized" being functionally lost forever from your partner's perspective. Large Bastard's mom would do this and it was infuriating, she'd say "oh I put all the electronics stuff in one box" and she would mean soldering irons, transistors, ham radios, HDMI cables, and cellphone chargers. We are *still* going through boxes of stuff that she "tidied up" when he was hospitalized in 2020 and 2021.

To prevent the need for quite so many dump zones over time, you can work on setting up landing zones and "homes" for projects and tools.

Landing Zones

Landing zones are places where things go when you come inside from doing various things. Sometimes your landing zone only needs to be a tray for your wallet and keys, sometimes your landing zone needs to be a place to take off muddy boots and put a trowel and gloves down before you shower.

To make an effective landing zone, consider what behaviors you're trying to minimize and whether the people using it are ACTUALLY going to use it. For instance I was tired of the corner of my hearth getting cluttered with random junk so I hung up some hooks and put a shelf and a basket there and it became a really effective landing zone for my bag and keys and the mail, but it was VERY ineffective for Large Bastard because it's by a door that isn't the primary door he uses to enter the house. As a result I always know where my keys and bag are but he has trouble finding his keys and wallet. He tends to enter the house through our bedroom and has an overloaded valet next to the door and that's usually where his wallet ends up. Mounting a shelf to the wall above the valet and putting a basket and a hook on it will be a better place for his stuff to land. It's not that he's not using the first zone because he doesn't know that it's there, or because he doesn't care about lost time when I'm searching for my car keys after he borrows them, he's not using it because it's not by the door he uses. That's all.

I have a landing space for when I come in for gardening that's different than the one when I come in from grocery shopping. I have a landing space for when I walk into the dining room instead of the kitchen when I get home.

Landing spaces prevent stuff from piling up all over the place because they are a limited functional space that should be used frequently. Mail ONLY goes in the landing zone. If you have mystery mail or if you're not sure it's safe to toss, you put it in the landing zone. You can't let the mail get piled up too high or you won't have a space for your keys. You can't let the change in your wallet tray get too deep or your wallet is going to slide off, etc., but you also don't just put change on the coffee table or your nightstand because the landing zone is right there.

Homes for items are just what they sound like. They're the place the item goes. It lives there. My meds live on my nightstand. You would not believe how poorly I did with taking my meds on my vacation because they weren't on my nightstand. A while back large bastard lost one of his sets of sorted meds and we tore the house up looking for them because he couldn't find them in his nightstand, which is where they live. *I* found them in his nightstand because I emptied out the entire top drawer (he had only looked on the top layer) and found them underneath a radio and a hammock. Even though they were *hidden* they were in their home, so they were findable. I recently needed ink for an art class. Art supplies live in a dresser by my desk. Ink lives in the art bin or the top left drawer. The ink was not in either of these places (it was on a cabinet in the dining room behind a teacup) so it took me weeks to find it.

Sometimes the reason that ADHD spaces are so messy is because objects have been assigned homes in places that are visible and if they get moved they get lost. This is a genuinely difficult problem that requires a lot of effort to solve and can involve a lot of trial and error for creating a tidy living space. For some people, open shelving and visible storage might be a good solution. For some people, assigning a VERY clear home and inculcating that location by habit is the only way to clean up a space. For some people one very cluttered corner to at least isolate the chaos does the trick (for me and large bastard open shelving doesn't work because anything in one place for too long becomes invisible; that means that I rely on assigning things homes and large bastard relies on having contained chaos and a general idea of where to search but what that DOES NOT mean is that he is clean or tidy. His spaces look like an explosion. But he can mostly find his stuff and do what he needs to do and as long as that's limited to specific places in shared spaces I can live with it; the dining room table can be a disaster, the kitchen cannot).

People organize things differently. It often takes a while for neurotypical adults to settle into an organizational style that works for them and ADHD adults may need to settle into a new system every few months for it to continue working. The cleanup and declutter is most likely going to be a permanent project that is always going to demand some level of attention from everyone in a shared space, but "my ADHD means I can't do it" is not really going to fly. Maybe his ADHD means that he can't keep his space tidy, but it doesn't mean you can't move stuff from shared spaces into dump zones or that he can't do stuff around the house.

If he's insisting that his ADHD means that he can't clean it is possible that he's not being a shithead, he just feels helpless and doesn't know where to start and has adopted the belief that he's a useless piece of shit who can't even keep a tidy space like a grownup because he's internalized a lot of shitty attitudes (hello, my internal monologue about keeping a clean house). But it's also possible that he's just being a shithead.

It's something that's worthwhile to investigate with him. If he's unwilling to make an attempt, then he's being a shithead.

It is also not your responsibility to rehabilitate another person. If he wants to clean and it's something he feels bad about and needs some help and support with the way that someone might need help or support for learning to use a mobility aid, that is fine but you don't have to be the one who gives him that support if it's detrimental to your health, and you don't have to be the one to teach him that stuff if it's not something you're capable of. And if he is NOT interested in working on making your shared living space more accessible for you, that is not your suitcase to unpack and you just have to ask yourself the question from the start: would I stay with this person if I knew the situation was never going to change?

IDK, I'm sure a lot of this reads like "anon you must take on the emotional labor of training your partner to be an adult" but it's really meant to be more of a way of assessing yourself and your relationship. If you created landing zones do you think he'd use them? Would he get angry if you assigned a laundry basket as a dump zone for his stuff while you tidy the living room? Is living with him long-term going to be comfortable for you if nothing changes? Do you have enough of a shared definition of "mess" that you're at least in the ballpark for what counts as a clean house?

anyway good luck, and a reminder to folks that I'm compiling a bunch of adhd resources and other information on my personal website, ms-demeanor.com. It's coming along slowly but it will eventually include stuff like ADHD cleaning tips and how to tackle a hoard, so maybe keep your eye on that space.

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delta-lethonomia · 3 days

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There's a reddit thread on the BG3 sub where the user u/InklingRain posted a spreadsheet they made with all the companion approvals. Super useful in general both for playing the game and for fic, so I thought I'd post it on tumblr and play around a little!

There's a top row with the average approval by companion, but I didn't find that very useful, so I changed it to the count of approvals (i.e. count of approvals & disapproval total, how often a companion had a reaction to something). We all know Astarion gives a lot of disapprovals here and there, but they're only -1 at a time, so no big deal, right?

No. Minsc has the least at only 45 reactions, Halsin at 95, Minthara at 145, and of the main companions, Gale is pretty average at 198, Lae'zel at 224, and Shadowheart, rather opinionated at 258...

but that's nothing compared to Astarion's 406. That's almost 150 more than the next person!!! That's more than Minthara and Shadowheart combined! Babygirl really woke up one day and decided to get in a snit over everything that happens 😂

(Longer post about count of positive and negative opinions, sum of approvals and disapprovals, and some major outliers below. Picture with values at the very end.)

But that's a bit disingenuous. If we look at the ratio of positive to negative opinions (not taking value into account), Astarion's pretty average at 30% (negative count over sum count, so let's call that negativity). This is similar to Gale (31%), Karlach (30%), and Lae'zel (32%). In theory, getting Astarion's approval or disapproval is just as easy as any of theirs, with a 20% bias towards positive approvals. Later companions are weighted heavily towards the lower end of the spectrum, with Jaheira at 13% negativity and Minsc at 9%. As you only get them very late, it's pretty clear that the game gives you a lot of opportunities to get their approvals and thus open up more of their quests and dialogue.

However. We have an outlier. Wyll Ravenguard, clocking in at an indecent 38% negativity! Which really just goes to show, while Astarion is the most opinionated, Wyll has the most disapprovals, making him the judgiest companion of all 🤣

However, this really wouldn't be a good post if we didn't look at the value of approvals. Karlach, for instance, has the strongest disapproval value of -100 (given if you sleep with her and then call it a mistake). Ouch. This is clearly at outlier and doesn't say much about Karlach's changeability of opinion in general. If we look at the sum of positive and negative opinions, this is a very heavy swing, making up 100 points of her total 191 disapproval points possible to her 281 approvals total. Another outlier is Minsc, who currently possesses a 43% disapproval percentage (a heavy -50 disapproval given if you sacrifice him to Sarevok. Jaheira, by contrast, apparently doesn't give a damn, or her value might simply not be included in the dateset.)

Removing outliers is really a matter of opinion here, so I'll only remove the most extreme swings, such as the above mentioned disapprovals.

The otherwise strongest swings are Astarion (-15 for telling him it was a mistake preventing him from drinking Araj's blood, or saying you only wanted to sleep with him, not deal with his trauma) and Wyll (+20 for siding with Karlach during his confrontation with her, which really shows he didn't really want to kill her and is very grateful you stopped him). Halsin gives +40 for reuniting Oliver with Thaniel, which...lifting the shadow curse is sort of his life's mission, and a bit of a unique case, so while it makes sense, I think it's such a unique event that can't be topped by anything else and will remove it. Jaheira give +20 for extending the Emperor's protection to Minsc, and, for funsies, Minthara's heaviest disapproval is -5 for donating to Lolth at the Stormshore Tabernacle. (lol)

I only chose to remove the aforementioned Karlach, Minsc, and Halsin values, as they're all very large swings and rather character-defining or personal to the individuals mentioned, so I don't think it says much about them in a more general day-to-day sense.

Now, using the sums of our negative and positive values, Gale is our most Negative Nancy, clocking in at 37%, which goes to show that while he's pretty average for the amount of things he cares about, when he disapproves, it's a strong one. Next up is Astarion at 35%, and Wyll at 34%. Lowest are Jaheira and Minsc at 7% and 4% respectively, which makes an intuitive sort of sense: Jaheira is old and just over being upset by the players poor choices, and Minsc is an insanely positive person overall. The next most positive companion is Halsin at 13%, which also matches with his vibe pretty well, followed by Minthara at 17%, Karlach at 24%, Lae'zel at 26%, and Shadowheart at 28%.

Tl;dr: Astarion has many, many opinions, but Wyll is the most judgemental (most disapprovals compared to approvals possible). However, when it comes to the strength of those disapprovals, Gale reigns supreme, followed by Astarion.

If don't break Karlach's heart, help Halsin achieve his life's ambition, or sacrifice Minsc, then they're pretty positive overall. Later companions are heavily weighted to approve of your actions, and Minthara is comparatively judgemental, but overall far more easy to gain approval than disapproval from.

If you take the average of all these values and include the later companions to look at as a personality "baseline" of how judgy and how strong those disapprovals may be, then...the Act 1 companions are all dramatic af, which really should come to no ones' surprise, while Karlach is the most willing to give the benefit of the doubt imo.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #wyll ravengard #gale dekarios #the best time to mess around with a spreadsheet is 2am of course #I hate google sheets but don't care enough to do fancier things in excel #could I do actual math here? yes. am I going to? no

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pomefioredove · 2 days

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Okay but imagine one of the guys actually win the prefect, and they just go rubbing it on the others face by making them wear their respective form uniform.

Except Kalim, he would probably just make them have a sleepover every night and paint each other nails.

ohhh see now I'm imagining all the alternate routes this could take... okay okay I'm so here for this. like half of the cast would totally make them wear the uniform just to rub it in, the other half would just be crazy about seeing them in the dorm uniform at all. I DO have some thoughts on this concept alone... and I'll make another part later yk yk

summary: joining their dorms + wearing the uniforms. a proper ending to this type of post: short fics characters: ace, deuce, jack, epel, riddle, ruggie, azul, jamil, kalim, vil additional info: yuu is gender neutral, ruggie is cute, azul is the cutest, vil enjoyers come get your food, maybe a little ooc for some parts

If you thought it was bad before, the news that Malleus intended to marry you made everything about twenty times more chaotic. Bids were upped to insurmountable sums, rumors were spread like the plague, fights were raging through campus as the deadline to donate approached. Even Crowley was starting to feel a little antsy, despite all of the brand new amenities he had already ordered for his office.

Finally, the day came. The announcement was held in the courtyard, where just about any student who had stakes in the matter had shirked whatever after-school responsibilities they had to gather. The prefect themselves was nowhere to be found, though only few noticed their absence.

"Maybe it'll be nice," you say to your direbeast companion, the both of you tucked away in a dark corner at Ramshackle.

"It'll definitely beat living in this dump. You think they got good food in Diasomnia?" Grim murmurs.

You grimace. "Uh... sure. I can't imagine they wouldn't, right?"

Crowley clears his throat, pulling a thin, delicate envelope out of his coat pocket while the crowd eagerly watches on. He takes his sweet time opening it, much to everyone's utter dismay, and when he finally withdraws the contents the entire courtyard falls quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

"And our winner is..."

First Year's Ending

"Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Jack Howl, and Epel Felmier. Congratulations! The prefect will be ready at Ramshackle for your collection this evening. I trust you'll sort out the details..."

The four freshman look between each other, a mix of awe and shock on each of their faces.

Everyone else is staring daggers at them.

Vil is the first to speak. "How?"

"We may or may not have sweetened the deal with a few exclusive bonuses," Ace snickers, crossing his arms. Vil rolls his eyes. Deuce sighs.

"We'll be Crowley's new slaves for months after this..."

Jack grumbles from the back of the four. "Well, it was worth it. Imagine if someone underhanded and dishonest had won, and-"

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever,"

The four pause, looking between each other in silence. Then, finally:

"So who will they be staying with?" Epel asks, catching Vil's attention again.

"Excellent question, Epel," the housewarden smiles, stepping back into the conversation. "We would be more than willing to accommodate the prefect at Pomefiore. Our dorm far outshines the others."

Leona growls. "I heard that. Besides, why should you be first in line? We've already housed them before, they were plenty comfortable then,"

"As I recall, you forced them into servitude as penance for staying," Riddle snaps. "Not exactly the friendliest host. I think they would be much more comfortable at Heartslabyul."

The four freshman can only watch in silence as the housewardens break out into bickering with one another about who's dorm is best.

"Soooo..." Ace starts. "Maybe we should rotate?"

Deuce sighs. "For once, you actually have a good idea,"

Riddle's Ending

"Riddle Rosehearts, congratulations! I'll alert the prefect at once," Crowley says, immediately turning and disappearing into the crowd before anything can get ugly.

It doesn't exactly come across as a surprise to anyone- Riddle closely calculated his spendings, taking into consideration Leona's overconfidence, Malleus' stranger proposal, and Kalim's over-enthusiasm.

Of course, with some additional prodding about how no other dorm is responsible enough to handle another person like Heartslabyul, Crowley finally gave in.

And now, you're sat in front of the dorm's rose gardens, suitcase in tow as you make no apparent effort to walk in.

"Thought I'd find you out here," Trey says, taking a seat in the grass next to you. "Feeling okay?"

"Nervous," you admit.

Trey chuckles, much to your annoyance. "I promise there's really nothing to be nervous about. Riddle is really quite happy you're here,"

You find that a bit surprising, though you suppose it's hard to tell when he's excited. He always has this impression of deep psychological stress on him that makes him difficult to read.

"Is he?"

"Oh, yeah. He's been running Ace and Deuce ragged getting ready. He really wants to impress you," Trey pauses with a small smile. "You'll get used to the order of things here in no time. And if you ever need any help, you've got me, Cater, Ace, Deuce... I'm sure even Riddle will take it easy on you."

You smile in return. "Thanks, I-"

"Prefect!" Riddle storms out of the front doors, looking rather well-dressed for a simple Tuesday afternoon. "You were expected four minutes ago! I've taken the liberty of finding your measurements, so your dorm uniform is already ready and inside!"

Yeah. Excited, right. You give Trey a little look (to which he only waves merrily) and start off behind the housewarden.

For a moment, as you follow him, you could swear you catch him humming and smiling. But before you can say anything about it he catches Ace messing with your dorm uniform and starts shouting.

Ruggie's Ending

"And the winner is... no... this can't be right..."

Crowley clutches the paper, bringing it close to his face. He clicks his tongue, murmuring to himself.

"Um... Ruggie Bucchi, everyone!"

The news sends a shockwave through the audience, and everyone turns to the sophomore at the back of the courtyard. The sudden shift in energy is enough to make him drop his sandwich.

"Damn it..." he grumbles, picking it off the ground and swiping the dirt off of it with his sleeve. "Still good, eh?"

"Are you deaf?" Leona glares. "You're just embarrassing yourself now, and me by association."

Ruggie raises an eyebrow. "What? Oh, the lottery-thingy? I'm pretty sure Crowley misread that. He's going senile, y'know,"

Crowley crosses his arms, begrudginly handing off the paper to Azul in the front. He adjusts his glasses.

"It says Ruggie Bucchi,"

"Then someone mistyped it! I'm telling 'ya, there's no way I managed to scrounge up enough before the deadline. I was digging between couch cushions by the end of it,"

Leona looks as if he's about to smack him upside the head. "Would you just get up there?"

"Geez, alright. But don't blame me when someone comes around with the right winner later," he says, trudging to the front of the crowd. "So what do I gotta do?"

"Erm... the prefect is waiting at Ramshackle. You'll collect them and return to Savanaclaw, where you'll be responsible for handling the details."

"Sure, whatever. Let's get to it, then,"

---

Even your surprise is palpable, though you suppose it could be a lot worse. Ruggie has been a pal before, helping you out at Sam's and convincing Leona to let you off the hook when you accidentally annoy him.

Though, he himself seems less than pleased as you step out of your new room in Savanaclaw, dressed in a slightly too-big uniform.

Leona smirks as if watching something amusing and claps, slowly. "Looking good. See, none of those other pompous outfits woulda looked half as nice on you. Nice work, Ruggie,"

Ruggie rolls his eyes and leans back against the wall. Leona excuses himself to find somewhere warm to nap, leaving you two to stare at each other.

"So... what's wrong?"

"Hm?"

"I mean," you say carefully. "You don't exactly seem excited about winning."

"Oh," Ruggie shrugs. "That's cause I didn't. Guys like me don't win anything. I'm sure someone will come to give you away to the right winner tomorrow."

The thought doesn't sit well with you- you're already here, after all, and Grim is gorging himself in the lounge, and you really-kinda-don't-mind Ruggie winning.

"Well, I hope not,"

He raises an eyebrow. "You know I can hardly afford to take care of myself, right?"

"So then we're even. Just don't make me go through all that bidding stuff again," you sigh. "Let's leave it at that."

A brief, though comfortable silence falls over the two of you, and then he grins. "Alright, then. I can live with that,"

Octotrio's Ending

"Azul Ashengrotto!"

Azul's immediate reaction is to collapse. he hadn't really realized how much stress the anticipation was causing him until suddenly his knees were buckling like he was learning to walk on land all over again.

Floyd grabs his shoulder to keep him upright and Jade joins the scattered applause.

"Don't look so pale, Azul. I'm sure this will prove to be a worthwhile investment," he says, folding his hands neatly in front of him.

A part of Azul knows that Jade isn't referring to anything financial, but he doesn't say a word about it.

"Besides," Jade goes on. "It'll be nice having another member of my club."

Both Azul and Floyd groan in unison.

---

Floyd gives you a standing ovation when you walk into the Mostro Lounge, fully dressed in the provided dorm uniform.

Azul, on the other hand, looks away entirely.

"It feels too long," you say, staring at the bottoms of your pants. You're not exactly in a place to complain, so you keep your voice meek.

"We can make the necessary adjustments," Jade says, walking into the room with a tray of tea, his all-too-knowing smile as unnerving as ever. "You look very nice, though. Wouldn't you say, Azul?"

The merman's eyes immediately turn away from Jade. "Hm?"

"Tell the prefect they look nice, Azul,"

Floyd laughs from across the room, clearly enjoying the spectacle. You tilt your head to the side like a curious puppy, not exactly sure what this banter is about. But it's not your place to pry, either.

Azul's face is beet-red. "You... look nice,"

"Thank you,"

"So are they gonna work or what? I'm tired," Floyd whines, lying on one of the couches and kicking off his shoes.

Azul grimaces. "Don't do that, that's disgusting. And I thought we should let them adjust a few days before giving them the option of working,"

"Option?" Jade's grin widens. "My, aren't you feeling generous?"

"I... assume this process has been rather jarring. I don't want any of my employees distracted or mopey. Is that right?"

You blink. "Uh... yes. This whole thing has been pretty terrible,"

Azul nods in acknowledgement as Grim tumbles in the room, wearing a brand new purple and silver-streaked bow. "Can't believe you guys had one of these 'jus lying around! I feel like a million thaumarks!"

You chuckle and scoop him into your arms. "You look very handsome. Just like Azul,"

Azul can feel his soul leaving his body and has to swiftly turn around to face the wall so you can't see him blushing. Floyd laughs.

"Oh- oh I meant the bow looks just like Azul's outfit!" you correct yourself. He pretends he didn't hear anything at all.

Jade breaks the awkward silence with a chuckle. "Ah, what fun this will be. Now, I think it's only appropriate that we give these two a proper welcome dinner. Prefect, do you care for mushrooms?"

Floyd and Azul groan in unison.

Jamil's Kalim's Ending

"Kalim al-Asim!"

Everyone could see that coming from a mile away. The disgruntled mumbles and groans of the crowd are drowned out by the cheers and claps of one sophomore, practically jumping up and down in the middle of the crowd.

"Yes! Yessss! This is going to be so much fun!"

Jamil suddenly looks exhausted.

Kalim runs to the front of the crowd, shakes Crowley's hand, steals the envelope from him, and sprints the rest of the way to Ramshackle.

Your moping is quite abruptly interrupted by a procession of loud knocks at the door, and after managing to summon your courage, you answer them.

"Wh-"

The very second the door is open, a familiar ball of energy is in your arms, squeezing you tightly.

"I wonnnn, prefect! I won!"

Your eyes widen. "You- you-"

You breathe a sigh of relief.

Out of everyone who threw their name in the hat, you couldn't get much luckier than Kalim. Financial problems? Gone. Loneliness? Blown away in the wind. Your chances of getting assassinated...? Well, let's hope Jamil is in a good mood.

Your uniforms are ready, measured to the exact inch, sitting on a set of mannequins that greet you as soon as you're inside.

Jamil is hovering behind one of them, picking at the sleeve of your school uniform for stray threads. He gives you a sideways glance, not exactly looking happy.

"My two best friends in the whole world in the same dorm!" Kalim claps. "You have to try on your dorm uniform, you'll love it! Oh, let me get you some new sheets- we have silk!"

He bounds off down the hall, leaving you alone in the lounge. The silence is thick and uncomfortable.

"Yeah, I'm outta here," Grim says, walking off in the opposite direction.

"Grim!" You whisper-shout.

"It's a preventative measure! No cracker-dry mouth for me!" and with that, he's gone.

Jamil smirks slightly, turning his attention back to sorting the uniforms. "You should get changed while you still can. I have a feeling Kalim will be attached to your side for the rest of the evening,"

You're pleasantly surprised to see how well the dorm uniform fits you, and your return to the lounge is accompanied with a little smile. The fabric is light and breezy, perfect for the dorm's usual weather- you could certainly get used to the perpetual summer.

"Fits well, I presume?" Jamil asks. "You certainly seem to be in high spirits."

"It could be worse,"

"Much worse," he agrees.

A silence falls over the two of you. Eventually, he sighs to himself, watching you out of the corner of his eyes.

"If you ever need a break from Kalim," Jamil says tentatively. "I could certainly find a way to distract him. Just so you know."

You understand the nature of his offer immediately, and though you know it's wrong, you don't exactly say no.

"...Thank you, Jamil,"

Vil's Ending

"Vil Schoenheit! Thank the sevens..."

Though he walks to Ramshackle to collect his prize with a sense of ease, Vil admits that there was a brief moment where he felt anxious about not winning.

Standing in that crowd, surrounded by royalty and nobles, his chances were higher than most but certainly not assured. The very thought of you being stuck with someone other than him was enough to send a shiver up his spine.

After all, how many people on this campus would you feel comfortable with taking your measurements? None, none but him.

"Hold still," he says for the millionth time. "I'm almost done."

Vil insisted on taking your measurements himself, and you had no qualms about that. After all, things could be worse.

"There. I'll have these sent out right away. Pomefiore has many students of your size, so it's likely we'll have a spare uniform for you. That is, until I can have one custom-made,"

"You really don't have to..."

He raises an eyebrow. "Of course I do. You're a Pomefiore student now, I expect you to present yourself like one,"

A knock at the door pulls your attention away from him, though it's Vil who answers it.

He returns to you, dorm uniform in arm.

"That was fast," you say, accepting the bundle of clothes.

"Punctuality is important. Now, get changed, I want to see what I'll have to adjust for you,"

Waiting for your return is almost as nerve-wrecking as it was waiting for Crowley to call out his name. Vil can't be sure why exactly you're making him so nervous now, but it's all he can do to keep from showing it.

The dorm uniform- which you've dawned before- is just as comfortable as you remember. Warm, but not suffocating, soft but durable.

Vil stares at you for a short while before saying anything, simply drinking in your presence.

"Come here. I need to have a look,"

You inch forward, standing in front of him as he turns around you in circle, inspecting every inch. "Well, it fits much better than your last,"

He pauses, stopping in front of you. You look down at your feet, feeling as nervous under his analytical gaze as ever.

Vil chuckles, cupping your chin and tilting your head up to meet his eyes. "You look wonderful. I'll have to help with your confidence, though,"

Good Ending

"And our winner is... M-"

"Crowley!" a loud voice resonates from the very back of the crowd. The sound of hurried footsteps follow it as Trein and Crewel show up on scene.

"We're... we're kind of in the middle of something-"

"You are absolutely not. I cannot believe I had to find out about your little scheme from Trappola and Spade, of all pups," Crewel grimaces. "Are you well?"

"Well I- I-"

"Called it," Ruggie grins. "Totally senile."

Leona rolls his eyes. "Oi! Just read the damn paper!"

"Absolutely not. This is a highly immoral and borderline illegal offense," Trein crosses his arms. "You will all be refunded promptly. Now return to your studies!"

The crowd slowly dissipates, murmuring amongst themselves. Crowley remains in front of the well at the front of the courtyard, kicking the ground with his hands behind his back, like a child being scolded.

Both Trein and Crewel glare. "If you were having such issues with the prefect's expenses, you could have asked,"

"In what universe is giving them away to teenage boys a sound idea?" Trein grimaces. "I can overlook many of the things you do, but this is far too much."

"But-"

"That's enough," Crewel snaps his pointer against his palm. "If the prefect is causing you such troubles, we'll be glad to take them off your hands. In fact, I've already had the necessary legal papers drawn. I've always wanted a pup of my own, you know."

---

A gentle knock at the door rouses you from your melancholy and after some lengthy pestering from Grim, you finally go to answer it.

Outside is none other than Ace and Deuce, looking rather somber.

"No- don't tell me," you say. "I don't even want to hear it."

Deuce sighs. "It's not that. The whole thing got canceled,"

"No- wait, canceled?"

"Someone got caught with their hand in the cookie jar," Ace snickers, but quickly clears his throat after Deuce gives him a sharp glare. "Crowley's negotiated a different solution to the problem."

Deuce nods. "Hypothetically... how do you feel about being adopted?"

#I enjoyed writing this. thank you anon <3 #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #epel felmier x reader #jack howl x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #kalim al asim x reader #jamil viper x reader #vil schoenheit x reader

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a-b-riddle · 21 hours

Text

Part Three

Warning: If you don't like Taylor Swift, you're not gonna like this chapter that much, homie. But So Long, London is so fitting for this drabble series. (I guess a series since it's longer than a drabble at this point)

Can’t stop thinking about reader just trying to move on

You had to remind yourself several times not to check in with the guys. It had almost become second nature doing something big like this. But going to another country…

Not that they would care. You told yourself. It was for the best that way.

The expo went better than you expected. You didn’t believe that there would be a line out the door of eager readers wanting to read your book, but you got a decent amount. More than a few told you they couldn’t wait to read it. Several asking for photos and asking questions on any future books, a spin-off or even continuing the series.

When one a particular large group of girls your age asked for a group photo, you could have cried. They were had found each other in an online book club. You had given them your book several months ago. All copies signed with a note thanking them for taking the time to read what you had poured your heart into.

You had spent a large chunk of your free time talking to them. Bonding more so as women than over your book.

"Have you listened to Taylor's new album?"

It had only been out for two days and you had been able to avoid it like the plague. You didn't need to even listen to 'So Long, London' to know it would fucking gut you. So you would enjoy your time in the states. Save the listening experience for when you were packing up their stuff.

They had posted and tagged you before continuing on with the rest of the expo. You had reposted the photo to your own social media. Or at least one attached to the pen name you had crafted. You only had twelve thousand instagram followers, but it was something.

The first day was much like the second. You had attended several Q & A sessions with a panel of more experienced authors and managed to go to a few meet and greets. Before you knew it, it was time to pack up shop.

The agent the publishing house had assigned to you had stuck with you for most of the day. You were able to pick her brain a bit about new ideas for possible future plot lines and her thoughts. Overall, the trip was great.

Not only were you able to make great connections and take a lot back home with you to reference, but for a few days you forgot what waited for you back home. Or rather what wasn't waiting for you.

By the time your plane landed back in London you could barely hold yourself up. You left the expo, went straight to the hotel to shower, pack and head to the airport.

Your flight was delayed. Your luggage was taking forever to get onto the belt. It was only seven, but fuck if you weren’t ready to just call it a day. Tomorrow you would have to start again. Opening up the shop. Coming back to an empty flat. Maybe start gathering up the items the boys had left behind.

Should you give them in separate boxes or just one giant one and let them sort it out themselves? It was easy to discern whose sweatshirt and t-shirts belonged to who, but when it got to things like socks and chargers...

Yeah.

They could sort it themselves.

You could drop it off at Kyle's when you knew he would be at the gym. He was good at avoiding you anyway.

It wasn't until you stood in your apartment did it hit you.

You were alone.

For the first time in over a year you couldn't call one of them over to soothe that ache of loneliness.

For the first time in over a year, you had to relearn how to handle just being alone.

You usually showered at night. Washing away the grime of the day before settling into bed. But today was a new chapter. You woke up wanting to start it on a good note. Plus you went straight to bed after getting home so you still had a bit of airport funk on you.

It had been a week. One official since you had sent that text nailing the coffin shut. You had touched base with your friends who didn't bat an eye at you dating four men at once. They liked them, even if Simon scared them. You didn't give them the details of the breakup or the cause. You were pretty private in your problems and if you wanted relationship advice, you would seek an unbiased unopinion.

You had a good group of friends, but the moment you told them that you were well and truly heartbroken, they would insist the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. Something you were nowhere near ready for.

So you needed to look like you had your shit together. You put on a dress that was feminine and, most importantly, comfy as fuck. An A-line floral frock paired with a light sweater and some white trainers. You knew a few of your friends would be stopping by for tea so you need to look like you were taking the separation well. Even if you were barely holding it together.

With makeup and perfume on, you started the early morning stroll to your shop.

You loved openings. Starting up the register and selecting the playlist for today. Picking out the essential oil to put in the diffuser even though you mostly stuck with a lavender and vanilla blend during the spring months.

For the morning you stuck with a Taylor Swift Instrumental playlist you had found initially for studying, but you liked the peaceful feeling it brought. Even when it covered the most gut wrenching songs.

You had started to collect the online orders that had accumulated over the last week. Sending out the e-mails alerting to your patrons that their orders were ready for pick up. Luckily you weren't set to receive a delivery until tomorrow.

It was eight and everything was set. Although not many people came to a bookstore at eight in the morning, it really didn't bother you opening up that early considering you were the only employee that was on the payroll. It gave you the possibility of making money, but mostly you spent the morning reading or writing.

You flipped the sign over from CLOSED to OPEN. Ready to start take on the day.

You had turned the kettle on in the back room when your friends had stopped by around lunch. You always said it was just tea, but you always had an array of snacks on standby for you all to munch on.

Meredith was complaining about what a dick the new client at the law firm was being. An absolute slime who had been married to his wife for almost twenty-five years before he decided to fuck his twenty-two year old assistant.

Tabitha didn't want to talk about work. To her, her career in tech was just a paycheck. She did what she needed to do and left when she was done.

You talked about the expo and how your book. Although neither of them really read, they had promised that they would read your book. You didn't hold your breath. They had reposted your posts as well as making ones of their owns in celebration of you. Words of praise about your dedication and hard work.

You realized that even though they couldn't give you the support you needed as readers, they supported you blindly. You could have written absolute garbage, but they would still support you.

You talked about how many people liked your book and wanted pictures and to sign their copies.

Then came the question you had been rehearsing since you had texted them a week ago. They both shared a look before Meredith finally asked.

"How are you holding up?" You gave a half-smile and a shrug. So perfectly rehearsed in your head you were ready to deliver your lies lines.

"I'm fine," you lied. "It was just fading so there isn't much of a difference, I guess." Not necessarily a lie. "We just wanted different things and were on different paths in life." Not a lie. "It's for the best." You weren't sure if that last one was a lie or not just yet.

They both shared a passing look before returning their gazes back to you. "You know you can come to us about this stuff." Tabitha's hand reached across the table, placing a hand on top of yours.

"It wasn't going to work out." You added. "Situations like that don't and I should have known better."

"A situation?" Meredith asked. "When have you ever called it a situation?"

"It always was one."

"I love you enough to call bullshit." She raised her eyebrow at you, crossing her arms over her chest. "You loved them and you need to stop pretending this is easy."

"You're a divorce lawyer, Mere," You reminded. "You see marriages fall apart every day."

"I do. I get to see from across the table how a woman is still willing to take her cheating arse of a husband back. So the fact that you went from on cloud nine with all of them to not even talking about the break up is concerning to say the least."

"Tabitha," you looked at your only ally left. "A little back up would be nice."

"I'm with her on this one." She confirmed. "You loved them. Not that I cared, but if you weren't talking about books or the shop, you were talking about them. What you did, where you went. How they fucked you."

"I think I'll miss that part the most." Mere sighed. "I lived vicariously through you."

"You know you could actually date people." Tabitha suggested.

"I'd rather live with chronic carpal tunnel than a man." You almost choked on your tea. If you were wearing pearls you would have used the comedic relief of clutching them to break the awkwardness of the current topic of conversation.

"That should be put on a t-shirt." You suggested

"I wouldn't mind it on a welcome mat to be honest." Tabitha added.

"But in all seriousness, cut this bullshit." Meredith gave you an sympathetic smile. "We're here. Good, bad and ugly."

You returned her smile. "I know."

You had closed up shop for the evening. Your lunch had gone longer than expected so now you were left doing the dishes and clean up during closing. You were setting the last cup on the drying rack when you heard the front door chime.

Shit.

You must have forgotten to lock the door when you turned the sign.

“I’m sorry!” You apologized, making your way out of the back break area and to the front of the store. “We’re-”

“Closed.” He said, locking the door behind him. “I saw the sign.”

#captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #call of duty #angst #angst with a happy ending #john soap mactavish

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running-with-kn1ves · 17 hours

Text

Fitness Trainer

A/N: I blended some french terms of endearment with English don't come for me. But is Antoine really French, or is he feigning this way to get closer to you? (Had a fem idea for this too)

Synopsis: Another day at the gym, your personalized trainer is helping you out a lot more intimately than he would with most clients.

TW: Creep gym trainer, yandere themes, mentions of future stalking/imagined groping, sensual content

And up... and down, just like that."

The squeeze on your hips kept you stable, even with your fingers shaking, mouth agape as hot breath was sucked in, and out.

"One more, you can do one more for me."

"I can't..." you huffed, thighs quaking as the barbell on your shoulders made you ache.

"Yes you can. C'mon sweetheart, we'll do it together."

He gripped the barbell beside where your sweating hands were, chest flush against your back as his feet entrapped the outside of your own.

“Do it with me now,” He pulled the weight lower, forcing you to squat despite the agony in your ankles and tailbone. “Push through it, baby.”

The sweet name just slipped out, breathy against your ear as his hot exhales slowed compared to your huffs. It almost made you slip.

You could feel the muscles in your wrists shaking, vision going blurry as sweat drips into your eyes. One of his hands leaves the barbell to grip your hip, forcing you back into a standing position as your knees nearly give out.

You rise slowly back up with the barbell in your hands, nearly groaning in pain at the strain. You finally lift your arms to your chest, finishing the rep with a strained frown as your personal trainer forces the weight off of your arms. His taller stature makes it easy to put the barbell back on the rack in front of you.

You feel as if you could collapse, an hour and a half of intense training brought upon by your own determination leaving you exhausted and a little discouraged. You thought you could do more, push yourself harder-- but at the end of the day, the amount of reps your body would let you do, was it. You’d crack if you tried to go even further, end up tearing something or worse.

Your trainer could tell; the way you sweat, your eyebrows furrowed as you kept that hard, strained look with each motion he made you do.

“I hate to say it, but you’re done for today.”

You look up at him from your place on the ground, water bottle hanging from your grip as you try to catch your breath.

Antoine had only worked with you for a couple weeks now, what started as once a week now thrice, if you had the time after work of course. But somehow, he always enticed you to come back.

His body, which should’ve been motivation, was more or less disheartening-- rippling muscles and bulging quads peeking beneath his tight ‘TRAINER’ black tee and athletic shorts as the perfect ensemble.

He was so sweet, so encouraging and upsettingly positive. Always filling up your water bottle, saying how he’s always admiring the growth of muscle definition in your back, giving you light touches to show which area of your body that a machine might work out. He even offered post-exercise massages to make sure you didn’t get sore after each session, free of cost as a perk of joining the gym’s ‘premium membership’, an idea he sold you on. That, along with the complementary protein shakes made that were hi “specialty.”

You knew it was his job to hook you in, but who could say no to that sweet meathead’s face? Which is why you were here, on a late saturday afternoon, in this nearly empty gym with him that he convinced you to love.

You couldn’t help but feel a little guilty, even if he was the one persuading you, offering to use his time off to come in and help train you.

“Feelin’ sore?” Antoine bends down next to you, offering a small towel from his pocket. The twinge of accent in his speech makes him sound funny, dry lips parted as he looks you over. “You went harder than usual today.”

“Yeah,” You let out after a gulp of water. “Definitely gonna feel this later tonight; ha, maybe I’ll actually take you up on one of those massages.”

You point with your water bottle, grinning tiredly as Antoine’s eyes seem to shine. He licks his lips to hide a giddy grin.

“Of course-- definitely, I’d be more than happy to. These hands can work magic you wouldn’t believe.”

Antoine shuffles behind you, pulling at your shoulders to make you sit up straight.

“Wha- you mean right now? I’m all, sticky.”

“Now’s the best time, your muscles are just coming down from the effort they’ve exerted. Best to prevent any aches and pains as soon as possible rather than waiting.”

He begins gentle rubs against the base of your neck; vast, warm fingers grace your collar with a softness you hadn’t expected. Usually when people try to massage your shoulders they’re too harsh, too grippy; but Antoine was rhythmic, pushing into your back with his palms as he made his way down to your shoulder blades.

“But considering you’ve pushed so hard, I don’t want to see you back here for a couple of days.” Antoine insisted.

“Awe, you want me outa here that badly?” You joked, laying your head forward as Antoine’s fingers made their way to the back of your neck, running pressed thumbs down from your hairline. “I see how it is, prefer your other clients over me.”

It felt sort of weird, having him massage you so deeply on the gym floor out in the open. But the only person here in the middle of the afternoon was an older woman, paying more attention to her cellphone on the treadmill than anything you two were doing.

Antoine shook your shoulders.

“Don’t say that, now!” He leaned his head over next to yours from behind, getting so close your nose almost brushed against his cheek. “It’s not funny; I hope you don’t see me that way.”

“It’s just a joke,” You titter, running your handtowel down the front of your shirt.

“I never understand your jokes.” He sighs, hands moving down to your tailbone. He lifts the bottom of your shirt sticking to your skin, digging his hands against the soft flesh.

“Woah, hey,” You turn to look at him, but his head is down, looking at his fingers.

“I have to get to your hips, you can’t do so many squats without release. And at the rate you were going to day… well, you see what I mean.”

The bottom of your tanktop covers his knuckles as he pulls and kneads the skin of your lower back.

“O-okay.. I guess..”

He’s not usually so insistent, but he seems so genuine about it-- and, he’s the trainer, shouldn’t they know best?

He begins with little strokes to your skin, almost caressing. You grow anxious until his thumbs push deep lines into your flesh.

“Does that feel a little better, Mon cœur? Less pain?” He asks up close, staring at your heated and perspiring cheeks.

You’re awed by how good it actually feels, the tension melting away with each push of his knuckles into your skin, and grip of his hands around your waist as each of his thumbs digs into your sides.

“Yeah… feels a lot better..”

“You can rest your head on my shoulder, don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart.”

You do as he says, arching your back with your head against his shoulder. He had easier access into your back, working his hands up beneath your shirt to reach your mid abdomen.

The deeper Antoine kneaded, the farther he grew up your back, the more… audible, his groans became. Each dip was another breathy moan into your ear. It was fine at first, just the sounds of his work; and then, it became almost, uncomfortably sensual.

“Just like that...” He mumbled, giving a deep hum.

With your neck so close, his nose dips against your jaw to sneak a sharp inhale of your scent. It was heightened from your hour of strenuous work, a smell he couldn’t get enough of.

But you jumped forward before he could nuzzle as deep against you as he wished.

“Uh! Thanks, I feel a lot better now. Really… got all the kinks out.”

You clutch your towel, facing your trainer to prevent him from working his “magic fingers” again.

“Of course. And that’s just a taste, a fully body massage would leave the workout you just completed to drain away, as if it was just a dream.” He wiggles his hands with a sheepish grin, one so simple and sincere your guard fell again.

Sure, guys at the gym could be creeps, but he was your trainer, eyes kind and a little foreignly clueless, who only wanted to see you thrive; he’d never try something with you, his client.

“Yeah, maybe next time. But now, I need to shower and get this stink off of me.” You bring yourself to your feet, all wobbly and achy-galore. Even with Antoine’s work on your shoulders, you can feel your back beginning to seize up. It’s gonna be hard to bend down for a while.

Offering a hand to Antoine still on the rubbery gym floor, he takes it with a slight ease. He doesn’t use the weight in his hand to get up, knowing he’d just drag you back down to the floor if he did.

“Thanks again-- I mean, I know it’s your job but--”

“Don’t thank me; it’s always a treat to have you here, my cherie. I’d train you for free, you know!”

You laugh, flattered at the idea. If you were a bit more forward, you’d ask him for that little perk. Hey, paying for his service certainly wasn’t cheap!

Making your way to the bathroom, you thank your lucky stars the hard part’s over. Too bad you can’t look at Antoine’s pretty face anymore, though.

Antoine on the other hand, follows your stumbling body with his eyes, watching as you disappear behind the water fountain and bathroom door.

His eyes jut back and forth between the machines and front door for witnesses, seeing none before snatching up your forgotten towel. How’d you never notice they didn’t just give these things out?

He’d brought the cute handkerchief from home, wanting to appear the most of a gentleman. And, in the hopes that you’d use it every and anywhere.

Oh, he thrived off that scent, pushing the white damp cloth heavy against his nose. It smelled even more potent of you, moreso than the few inches away of sniffs he usually got.

His tongue just barely brushed against it, writhing in ecstasy from how it still held the stickiness of your sweat. You didn’t know how intoxicating it was to him, watching each bead of sweat leave your neck, the dip of your back when he got the chance to help hold that barbell with you… it was almost maddening, how strictly he had to restrain himself from lapping at your hot skin and running his hands beneath your gymwear.

No, he had to save this for later. What would his manager think if he saw him acting so ferally?

Besides, there were more important matters to attend to. Such as, taking out the bathroom trash, a simple excuse to slide his manager for the opportunity to watch you shower.

Who knew working here would have such great advantages in getting close to you.

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mydearestdaryl · 2 days

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𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐲𝐚 (18+) ‧₊˚ ✧

Summary: Daryl needed some love and you gladly gave it to him. Warnings: TWD violence, gore, blood, character deaths, explicit language, smut (oral f receiving, unprotected p in v, simple aftercare). Not proofread. Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f! reader smut + fluff. Setting: Quarry. A/N: I read a post some time ago that said that Daryl in season 1 just needed some kisses to calm down and I couldn't agree more so I wrote this. It's also my first time trying to write smut, so I am so sorry if this sucks, and I was so hesitant to post it so please be nice lol. 😞

“Ha-ha, funny girl,” T-Dog deadpanned, rolling his eyes and suppressing a genuine laugh. It was the third bad joke you told in a row, and he was starting to find them funny.

“I really am,” you replied breathlessly, finally able to catch your breath after cackling at your joke.

“Okay, Eddie Murphy,” T-Dog, added jokingly, making you giggle as he placed a bunch of firewood you'd been helping him split for the past 40 minutes. “Let's head back.”

“I just thought of another one!” You exclaimed as you walked next to him. His groan of annoyance made you laugh before you even told the joke. “What do you call a fish with no eyes?”

“I. Don't. Know.”

“A fsh,” you replied after a dramatic pause, hardly able to contain your laugh as he gave you a side-eye, pressing his lips together to hold a smile back. “Please, I-” you started, but interrupted yourself as a commotion reached your ears from the camp. You recognized Daryl's voice.

Sharing a confused look with T, you both picked up the pace, coming into view with what seemed like a heated discussion between Daryl, Shane, and Rick, the man who joined the camp yesterday. You felt a little annoyed that they ignored T-Dog's request to let him tell Daryl, but oh well.

“Rick Grimes,” he introduced himself to Daryl.

“Rick Grimes,” Daryl mocked him, “y' got somethin' you wanna tell me?”

“Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof hooked into a piece of metal,” Rick stated, apparently with confidence. “He's still there.”

You stayed in place, watching as T-Dog slowly took a few steps closer to the scene.

Daryl hummed as he turned around, pacing shortly before he spoke, “Le' me process this,” said he while turning to face Rick again, clearly growing irritated. “Ya' sayin' you handcuffed ma brother to a roof, and you left 'im there!” His veins popped as his voice got raspier as he yelled at the other man.

Rick gulped before admitting. “Yeah.”

Suddenly, Daryl tossed the squirrels he was carrying toward Rick, the latter swiftly dodging them before Shane jumped into action, tackling Daryl to the ground. Next, he pulled a knife from its holster, swinging it at the former cops, but being stopped in a matter of seconds.

In the blink of an eye, Shane put Daryl in a chokehold, while Rick snatched the weapon out of his hand. “Ya best let me go!” warned Daryl, struggling in Shane's grip as the cop brought him to the ground. You walked closer toward Carol as your eyes remained on the scene, but decided to walk to the other side as you noticed Ed was next to her.

“I think it's better if we don't,” Shane replied, almost mockingly.

“Chockehold's illegal,” Daryl added, face red from the struggle.

“'Kay, file a complaint,” If this situation was not so tense, you would've laughed. You did a little on the inside. Rick kneeled in front of the restrained man as Shane spoke again. “C'mon, man, can keep this up all day.”

“I'd like to have a calm discussion on this topic. You think we can manage that?” Rick spoke, trying to find Daryl's eyes. “You think we can manage that?” the cop repeated when no answer was obtained.

Panting and growling, Daryl grunted in agreement, finally getting Shane to release him; more aggressively than he should, if they asked you. Sitting up quickly, Daryl pointed at Shane warningly. Rick continued: “What I did was not on a whim,” he explained. “Your brother does not work and play well with others.”

“It's not Rick's fault,” T-Dog spoke up, his leg bouncing anxiously as he confessed. “I had the key. I dropped it.”

“Couldn't pick it up?” Daryl retorted. His voice was calmer, but you recognized in his stormy eyes a hint of grief. Nobody else cared about his brother when his brother was everything he had. You couldn't imagine how terrible this situation was for him.

“Well, I dropped it in a drain.”

Dropping his head, Daryl slowly got up, gathering his composure again. Anger returned to his expression as he walked past T-dog, “'f it's s'posed ta make me feel better, it don't,” glaring daggers at the 'culprit.'

“Maybe this will,” T went on to say, “I chained the door to the roof so the geeks couldn't get at him... with the padlock”

“It's gotta count for something,” Rick piped in.

Drying a tear as soon as it came, Daryl took a deep breath. “Hell with all y'all!” he screamed. “Jus' tell me where he is, so's I can go get 'im.”

“He'll show you,” Lori stated, staring into her husband's eyes. “Ain't that right?” Rick's eyes left his wife's after a few seconds, finding T-Dog's shortly before nodding.

“I'm going back,” he declared, almost solemnly, hands on his hips as his eyes met Daryl's again. The younger Dixon clenched his jaw before walking past everyone to get his crossbow and stomping to his tent.

You didn't notice you went behind him until Dale stopped you by grabbing your wrist. “What are you doing, honey?” the older man questioned. He'd always been kind and sweet to you, so you gently released yourself from his grip.

“He's upset,” you explained, and he seemed to understand as he nodded reluctantly, but understandingly. On your way, you grabbed your half-full water bottle, and slowly approached the edge of the camp, where the tent of the Dixon's was.

You found Daryl sitting on the chair outside his tent, shoulders hunched forward, fists clenched with anger as if grasping the last shreds of control. His head bowed low and his eyes were shut tight. You caught the way his body shook softly with quiet sobs. You stilled, not daring to interrupt this stolen vulnerable moment.

After another minute, he abruptly stood up, drying his tears before cursing loudly while kicking the chair he was sitting in. You were suddenly hesitant to approach him and decided to turn around and leave, but before you took one step, his voice reached your ears.

“Whaddaya doin' here?”

You took a deep breath before turning back around and walking up to him, your water bottle hanging from your hand. “I- uhm, I just wanted to say I'm sorry about Merle, and-”

“Ya don' even like 'im,” he snapped defensively.

“No, I don't,” you confirmed, “but I like you, and he's your brother. Even if my brother would annoy the shit out of me before, I loved him, and... I'm sorry you're going through this, Daryl,” you took a few steps closer, eyes on the ground as you spoke before meeting his.

His gaze remained on yours, before studying your face, finding nothing but the truth.

He frowned deeper, angrily huffing out a breath before turning away from you to rant. “He's jus' so fuckin' stupid. Nobody can fuckin' stand him an' he can't keep 'is fuckin' mouth shut!” he yelled, pacing from left to right, hands dancing through the air practically independently, punctuating his words.

“Why he gotta be such a fuckin' pain in the ass? Not even when we gotta surv-” mid-sentence, your hands found his cheeks, and with utter sweetness your lips impulsively found his, silencing his words.

He stilled, hands slowly dropping to his sides, body completely tense.

You quickly pulled away, opening your eyes to find his eyes slightly wide and totally confused. Your hands left his face and you took a step back. Your eyes awkwardly looking anywhere but at him. “Fuck, Daryl, I'm so sorry,” you started, a knot of anxiety growing in your chest. “I don't know why I did that... well, I know why, 'cause I like you, but I shouldn't have, I'm- I'm so sorry, really.”

Your rambling was interrupted by his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to connect his lips with yours. This time he was more relaxed, and the kiss was slower. His hands slid down to gently grab your hips, pressing his body to yours.

Your arms snaked around his neck, dropping your water bottle, and allowing your lips to part when his tongue requested entrance. Exploring the taste of each other, time stilled for a moment, but you loved it. The kiss grew almost desperate and the grip on your hips got stronger.

Unhappy to pull away, but needing to do so to breathe, you found yourself gasping as his lips left yours. You smiled brightly, cheeks rosy, and he smirked while dipping his head. “Also, I brought you water,” you added, grabbing the bottle from the ground, and dusting off the little dirt that stuck to its side before handing it to him.

“Thanks,” he nodded, taking it from your hands before opening it, downing the liquid, and emptying the bottle.

“You're gonna find him,” you reassured him, placing a hand on his shoulder and a quick kiss on his cheek. He smiled and nodded once again, muttering a thank you. You sounded pretty confident as if you knew, which gave him the confidence when he left on the search for his brother later that day.

Everybody screamed as they tried to avoid or fight the walkers emerging from the thick forest. The evening that started so peacefully suddenly turned into the perfect scene of a terrifying horror movie.

Things moved fast and slow at the same time. It was a blur. Tunnel vision, solely focused on surviving and protecting your group, moving on automatic pilot as you dug your machete countless times into the head of those flesh-hungry monsters.

You didn't even notice when it ended, barely feeling a pair of strong hands gripping your shoulders. His voice sounded distant asking if you were okay over and over. But you couldn't answer, you weren't sure if you were okay, the adrenaline didn't let you feel your body.

His loud voice calling your name finally snapped you out of your trance. “What?” You asked, brows knitting in confusion.

“Were ya bitten? Are ya alright?” Daryl questioned, nealy manhandling you as he searched and scanned for bites or scratches on your neck, lifting the sleeves of your flannel to make sure the skin of your arms was intanct.

“I didn't get bit or anything,” you shook your head, still a bit gone.

Cupping your face to study your eyes, he quickly pulled you into his arms, and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. You felt finally safe now. You wrapped your arms around his torso, closing your eyes and hiding your face in his neck.

After everyone agreed to get some rest and leave the cleaning for the morning, Daryl offered to stay in your tent with you that night.

He helped you into your pajamas, and you cuddled for a bit as he told you what happened in Atlanta. Then you simply lay in silence. You played with his fingers and he watched you adoringly, rubbing soothing circles on your back with his free hand.

You looked up to find his eyes on yours. Gently he cupped your chin, leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss. Your hand went up to cup half of his face, returning the kiss with equal passion. It was almost needy but slow. It was like he needed the confirmation that you were both here and okay.

Tongues met in a slow dance, and his hands reached down to cup your ass, easily moving you to lay on top of him. You couldn't help but moan as your body completely pressed against his, but it also made you want to feel more.

His hands slid under your shirt, and you broke the kiss in need of oxygen, immediately latching your lips onto his neck, sucking and kissing. He hummed in satisfaction, which was all the confirmation you needed to keep going, but he stopped after a few moments, pulling his hands out of your shirt, and cupping your face again for you to look at him.

“You sure 'bout this?” he asked, his face stern as he waited for your answer.

You nodded hastily, licking your lips. “Yeah. Are you?”

“'M sure,” he said without hesitation, pulling you onto his lap so you could straddle him. “Need ta feel ya,” he whispered in a husky voice, sending a shiver down your spine as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a passionate kiss.

His hands caressed the dip of your waist up and down under your shirt as you made out. You buckled your hips up unintentionally but did it again on purpose when you heard him moan into your mouth.

You were straight-up grinding into his hips before he pulled away from your mouth, “not yet, doll,” he whispered as he took your shirt off. His hands went to your breasts like magnets, kneading and massaging the curves shamelessly as he peppered your neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses that trailed down to pop a tit inside his mouth.

Your clothed cunt clenched on air, as you closed your eyes and moaned, enjoying the attention, and you could feel his excitement tenting in his pants as well.

He slowly shifted the position, you back now on the mattress. After he decided both tits had been given enough attention, albeit still reluctant, his mouth trailed lower and lower, hands smoothly pulling your shorts and panties at the same time as his tongue and mouth kissed and licked the skin of your stomach.

His eyes met yours as he kissed your thighs, silently asking for permission to go further. “Please,” you whispered, surprising yourself by how needy you sounded, but then again, you did feel like you needed him right now.

He wasted no time, and in less than a second his mouth was latched to your clit. Tongue swirling on it and sucking, making you gasp. He used his whole face, pushing himself deeper and moving side to side as his tongue flicked over your sensitive pearl quickly. Hungrily. You arched your back involuntarily, fingers finding his hair to pull while simultaneously pulling him closer.

With a hand on your hip, he sucked a few more times before he licked a strip down to your entrance where his tongue began to fuck you. His thumb replaced his mouth on your clit, rubbing at the same speed as his tongue went in and out of you. You moaned and whimpered and cursed, trying to keep quiet, being apparently unsuccessful.

“Quiet, sunshine,” he whispered, his free hand reaching up to make you suck on two fingers to silence you, and you happily obliged. Your legs wrapped around his head as he continued his ministrations, the familiar knot forming in your stomach.

“Fuck, Daryl, I- wait,” your back arched further, legs pulling him closer, contradicting your plead as he moved faster and faster, changing again to suck on your clit and fuck you with his fingers. He hummed and the vibrations brought you closer. “So close.”

Your pitch was higher and higher, the knot tighter and tighter. All it took was a final, flick and suck of his tongue, feeling him moan against your cunt before pushing you over the edge into a shattering climax. The free hand covered your mouth as the other slowed down, prolonging your pleasure until your body relaxed and you came down from your high.

“Fuck,” you looked at him with hazy eyes.

“Fuck,” he said as a confirmation, looking down to see a damp spot on his sweatpants.

“Come here,” you said, pulling him into a kiss. He gladly kissed you back as you slid your hands under his shirt, trying to pull it up, but he stopped you, grabbing your wrist.

“I-” he started, looking away from your eyes and knawing on his bottom lip. “I have- I....”

“You don't have to take it off, it's okay.”

“No, I wan' ta, jus'” he sighed, slowly taking the shirt off. He was thankful his back was away from you. At least you wouldn't have to see those yet. “My dad... was a drunk,” he reached to touch, kind of trying to hide, one of the scars on his shoulders, but you gently pushed his hand away, tracing the scar with your fingertips before looking up at him. You smiled and kissed him shortly, before kissing the scars on his shoulders.

“You're so strong,” you whispered.

His heart was beating fast but in a good way. His lips found yours again as he settled himself between your legs. Your now-familiar mouths found a rhythm as he started to pull his sweatpants and boxers down.

His erection hit your thighs making you pull away. You bit your bottom lip at the sight; he was thick, and the size was a bit on the bigger side. “All for you, baby,” he whispered, as he pumped himself a couple of times.

He rubbed the tip on your clit and entrance, spreading your and his juices all over your cunt again. “Ya ready?” he asked, slapping your cunt with his dick gently. You nodded. “Nah, need ya to speak up.”

“Please, Dar, I'm ready. I need you.”

He hummed in satisfaction, leaning to prop himself up with his forearms around your head, kissing your cheek, before slowly pushing into you. You moaned and he groaned. You were wet and ready enough, so the stretch felt like pure bliss for both of you.

He grabbed both your hands with one of his and pinned them above your head, starting to move when you wrapped your legs around his hips. “Feel so good, doll.”

He started slow, savoring the moment but also nervous to hurt you. But soon, he picked up a rhythm and started moving faster. Your boobs bounced beneath him as he kissed and worshipped your neck and breasts. You felt so deliciously full as he thrust up into your tight, dripping heat, moaning and whimpering underneath him.

He was in heaven, eyes inevitably closed as he made love to you, but he wanted to keep them open to look at you. To him, you looked like a work of art just like that.

“Harder,” you breathed, and he obliged. Your skin met over and over and the sounds filled your tent. He grunted, reaching down to rub on your clit, eliciting a gasp from you. “Oh, right there,” your voice was getting higher, letting him know you were close. “Don't stop, fuck, please, don't stop.”

“I won', baby. I gotcha,” he moaned. His thrusts became more and more urgent, each one hitting that sweet spot that made your body arch and your toes curl. If your hands weren't inside his gasp you'd be grasping the sheet beneath you. With one last flick of your clit, you shattered.

His mouth claimed yours to silence your cries of pleasure. Pure ecstasy filled your body, and prolonging your high, Daryl continued moving inside you, until he, too, reached his peak, quickly pulling out and releasing himself on your stomach.

Spent and breathless, he collapsed next to you, who was in the same state as him. Your body tingled with the remnants of your passion, and you couldn't help the smile on your face as he kissed your face lazily.

Your eyelids were too heavy to notice when he pulled a little rag from somewhere and cleaned you up, then you felt him put your clothes on again, and his too. All too relaxed, you nestled into his embrace as he pulled you into his arms, both falling asleep in a matter of seconds.

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon imagine #twd daryl dixon #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon headcanons #twd #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixion imagine #twd fanfiction

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flemingsfreckles · 2 days

Text

Physio’s Daughter pt.5

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Read the previous parts HERE

Warnings: cursing

WC: 4.0k

A/N: hi :) enjoy (if you’re reading this the same day it was posted and want to help make a decision on the future of this story go vote on the poll on my feed)

The players ended up with way more downtime than the staff during the week before you all left for Paris they were really only responsible for keeping their bodies ready to play and showing up to get on the plane. You and the rest of the staff had meetings, more paperwork, you all had to pack your equipment away, it took more hours of your time than you had expected.

This meant you had to turn down Jessie on three different occasions when she asked you to coffee.

The first time Jessie shook off the rejection. Not thinking much about it, you were obviously busy with work and didn’t have the time that day.

“I’m wrapping up here. Want to grab a coffee this afternoon?” She stuck her head into your office.

“I would Jessie but I’m not out of here until 5 tonight. Plus should we be grabbing coffee?” You give her a questioning look. You had agreed to friends now, friends grabbed coffee but it felt like a gateway to something more with her.

“Oh, okay, sorry I didn’t realize you had to work so late.”

She shook you off, walking back over to her locker to grab her stuff and leave for the day, having to stop alone for coffee.

She didn’t stop asking, one thing about that girl, she loved to stop by your office and she also loved to get coffee.

“Coffee? Do you have a lunch break at some point?” Jessie’s head once again swung around your office door early in the morning when players were released for a couple hours break before having to return in the evening for film.

You sigh throwing your hands up, gesturing to the pile of papers in front of you “I’m supposed to get a lunch but I think I have more travel paperwork to do during that time, I don’t know Kelly from the administration called and-”

“Don’t worry about it.” You notice the tight lipped half smile she gives you. You so badly wanted to say fuck it to the paperwork and go get coffee with Jessie, you’d get coffee with that woman every second of every day if you could. But you had work. You were at work and she was your coworker.

Insistent on getting you to say yes, Jessie offers another plan. “What about tomorrow morning since it’s a later start? Before we come in?”

“Tomorrow I have to be here at normal times, it’s just you guys who get to come in late.” You give her a frown.

“Look if you don’t want to come to coffee with me, that’s okay, just say that though.” Her voice is quiet but she looks frustrated with you. Her eyebrows furrowed, upset lines on her forehead.

“No! Jessie, I do! I do want to get coffee with you, just, this isn’t a great week. I’ve still got a ton of work to get done before we leave. As the newbie on the staff I get all the simple but time consuming work no one else wants. Unfortunately the next few weeks will be just as crazy for both of us.”

“Okay.” She turns to leave “I’m sorry for bothering you.” Before you can really stop her to explain that she’s not a bother and honestly the short chats you get with her are the highlight of your day, she exits the door. And you're left alone in your office, a massive pile of paperwork to still get done.

With only two days left before you had to fly to Paris you were trying to get most of your work done today. You didn’t want to have to deal with work and the stress of packing tomorrow. You curse yourself for not packing sooner. You end up in the office until it’s dark outside checking your watch and seeing it was 7:30 at night. Your mom had left the office two hours ago, giving you a kiss on the head and telling you not to stay up too late.

You focus in, getting tunnel vision on the paperwork, racing through the stack of papers, until your phone goes off.

Jessie Fleming: what time do you have to be in tomorrow?

A text from Jessie has your phone vibrating in your lap. You pick it up and respond, wondering why she would need to know.

You: 5:30

You: Do you need treatment? Is your calf alright?

Jessie Fleming: So the facility will be open at 5:30? Calf is fine but I’m trying to get in some extra recovery and stretching, feeling a bit tight after today's work.

You: Yeah it should be, for all I know I might still be here when you show up.

Jessie Fleming: You’re still there?

You: I am

You: sent an image

You send Jessie a selfie of you, smiling in your desk chair, a significantly smaller stack of papers than she saw you with earlier in the day.

Jessie Fleming: sent an image

The image is her, in what you assumed was her Canadian apartment bed, a soft smile on her face, her head resting on a pillow with light gray cover on it. What also stands out to you is the way her sheet is pulled up, just under her collarbones. You can see her collarbones, she wasn’t wearing a shirt.

You: Why are you in bed this early?

You: Do you sleep shirtless?

You regret hitting send on the second message when you actually see that she’s typing.

Jessie Fleming: That’s professional to ask

Jessie Fleming: But yes

Jessie Fleming: Most of the time

Jessie Fleming: Obviously not when I have travel roommates or anything, but I’m in my own place for the next few days so I’m enjoying it before a lot of hotels with Janine.

Jessie Fleming: And I’m in bed because I’m watching a documentary and I’ve been told to get as much sleep as I can by the training staff at work.

Jessie Fleming: Especially this new young girl, she has been on my case about taking care of myself and whatever, but she’s cute so I gave her a pass.

The mention of Janine has your mind thinking back to the other day, Janine grabbing Jessie and whispering to her before she gave you a look that felt like she suddenly knew everything. You wanted to ask Jessie about it but now probably wasn’t the best time.

You: I sleep like that too, more comfortable

You: I’m sure that girl is just looking out for you.

Jessie Fleming: I know, right? I tried to tell that to so many of my teammates, none of them listen.

Jessie Fleming: stop texting me, go back to work so you can go home.

You: you’re the one texting me

Jessie Fleming: shhhhh

You: 🙄

You put your phone away, putting it on silent so there was no temptation to text Jessie, having no idea if she had responded. You finish your paperwork, finally standing up your back and knees both cracking as you stretch. You check you phone as you walk to the car, seeing it was 8:22. You’d have to go home, get dinner, shower, all to get up at 4:30 to be at work by 5:30.

A message from Jessie sits on your screen. You debate texting her back but you don’t want to wake her if she’s already gone to sleep.

Jessie Fleming: Have a good night, hope you’re not at work too late :)

When you sit back at your desk the next morning you feel deja vu, feeling like you never left. The only difference is there is no longer a pile of work in front of you, you thank yourself for staying to complete it all last night. You lean forward letting your head rest on your desk for a moment.

“Hi!” Jessie comes around the corner of your office, sounding way too chipper for 5:30 in the morning, but then again she was able to be in bed at 7:30. You look up to her to see her carrying two coffees. She approaches you and sticks her hand out offering you one of the drinks. You were so grateful, you had opted for 5 minutes of extra sleep in the morning instead of getting a coffee and you were starting to regret that decision.

“Should you really be showing up to my office with coffee? You do remember what happened last time you did that, right?” You question her, squinting at her across your desk and sending a glance to the wall where she had pinned you.

“Maybe that’s why I’m doing it, maybe I liked what happened last time.” She pauses, tilting her head, thinking back to the memory. “Except not when your Mom walked in, I didn’t like that, that was terrifying.” A quick grimace follows by a smile comes across her face.

“Jessie, we can’t.”

“I know, I know.” She sounds defeated. “I just figured since going out for coffee doesn’t really fit into your schedule right now, I’d just bring it to you. I promise I’m not trying to get anything out of you.” She sits down in the seat across from you.

“How late were you here last night?” Jessie’s phone buzzes on the table, she ignores it.

“Just before 9.”

“Oh wow, I was asleep by then.” You envy her early bedtime.

“Yeah so I am incredibly grateful for this, thank you.” You shake your coffee cup as her phone lights up with another notification. This time your eyes trail to it. You’re not trying to look at her messages but you just can’t help but glance at the lit up screen.

Jessie noticed your eyes' quick movement toward her phone, “Sorry that’s just Janine, I told her I was coming in to do some early recovery and she’s giving me a hard time about it.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s just teasing me.” She pauses, “about you.” She uses her coffee cup in her hand to point at you.

“Oh, did you tell her? She gave me a weird look the other day, after you came back and we hugged in the training room, you two walked out together and she sort of stared at me. So did you tell her? About the kiss I mean?” Finally getting an appropriate time to ask what was up with Janine’s look.

“It may have slipped out, one of the times I was talking about you. But she’s been teasing me about you since before that.” Jessie looks down to type back to Janine on her phone.

“Jessie!” Her head snapped back up when she heard you scolding her name. Knowing someone else knows about your kiss, someone you didn’t yet know well enough, makes you uneasy. “You can’t just be telling people that!”

“It’s Janine, she’s my best friend, she knows me too well, she knew something happened and asked. I didn't think it would be a big deal, she’s not going to tell anyone.” Jessie defends herself.

“I get that you think that Jessie, but if she slips up, next thing the whole team knows, then it gets out, you’ll get in trouble for sleeping with the student trainer, who’s 4 years younger than you.” You were spiraling, you’re not sure if you believe what you’re saying or if your mom had just scared you into it. You didn’t want your own career to be at risk and you definitely didn’t want Jessie getting in trouble.

“We haven’t slept together, plus you’re an adult, it’s not like I’m 20 and you’re 16! We’re both grown.”

“I know that, but good luck telling that to anyone else, they won’t listen!”

“I really didn’t mean to tell her, it just sort of slipped out and I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would be an issue.” Jessie crosses her arms across her chest, she feels less warm than usual, less friendly, less inviting.

Only, it felt like it was a problem that she had told people. You weren’t sure why Jessie would think it was okay to go around telling people about your kiss without at least checking in with you. A small bubble of frustration with the woman sitting across from you started to build.

“Jessie, if people find out I could get fired! Sure, it might temporarily make your image bad but you’re too damn good, you’ll stay Captain, you’ll keep getting your call ups, keep being desired by different clubs, it won’t ruin your career like it could mine.”

“Nothing is going to get out, nothings going to happen, it’s not that big of a deal!” Now Jessie is raising her voice at you slightly. She’s leaning across your desk.

“Maybe it doesn’t seem like that big of a deal that to you, but it is to me.” You yell back, thankful that no one else was in at the office yet. You take a breath realizing this argument was not something you needed to be doing at 5:30 in the morning. “You should probably go do your recovery. I have things to get done” You point to the doorway.

“Oh.” It’s obvious the sadness on Jessie’s face and in her voice. A sudden change from her argumentative demeanor. “Yeah, I’m going to do that.” She pushed back from your desk. “I’m sorry.”

You let her walk out without saying anything. She doesn’t close your office door on her way out. Feeling stupid about the argument, you let your forehead come crashing back onto your desk with a loud thud, a lot harder than you intended.

“You okay?” You hear Jessie ask, hearing the sound of your head against your desk from the other room.

“Yeah, all good.” You groan back. You didn’t want her to care and feel the need to check on you. You know you shouldn’t care about he either but you can’t help yourself.

Despite being quite annoyed with Jessie at the moment, you’re unable to look away every time she passes by your door, doing exercises or walking across the room to get equipment. Time goes on and then you hear her digging in the ice cooler, the sound of a plastic bag and some shuffling around.

“Stupid wrap.” Hearing her talking to herself you stand up from your chair, it was your job after all to help with these things. You see her struggling to hold and secure a bag of ice she had made to her calf.

“Let me help you.” You offer empty hands to take the ice bag from her, grabbing the wrap and squatting in front of her to help her get it tight on her leg.

“Thanks.” She gives you a smile, the way she was grinning looking down at you sent a shiver through your body.

“Is it still treating you okay?” You look up at her from where you’re kneeling in front of her.

“Yeah it’s been good, just being overly cautious with it still, that’s why I’m doing all this.” She points down where your hands were wrapping the ice bag. You just nod, returning your focus to what you were doing instead of staring up at the girl’s pretty brown eyes.

You let the silence sit between the two of you for only a second before you break it.

“I’m sorry for how I reacted in the office just now. I think I’m just a little paranoid, we’re adults, we’re allowed to do what we’re doing technically. I just didn’t think you’d be going around talking about me and the fact that you kissed me.” You stand up.

“To be fair, I’m not going around talking about you to everyone, it’s really just been to Janine, she made some comments about you before we had even really talked much, she knows me too well. She knew I was interested, so she made some comments about me finding you pretty to which I blushed and she was onto me right away apparently I’m not great at hiding my crushes.” She looks down at her feet.

“I just freaked out, knowing that someone else knows that you had me against the wall, in my office.”

“If it helps, she doesn’t know I pinned you to the wall.” Jessie’s face is now a bright red. It’s suddenly very obvious to you how close the two of you we’re standing, face to face. It’s apparent that you can make out all the little details of her face, where each freckle sat across her nose and cheeks, you could see it all. Despite still being upset and frustrated with Jessie for telling Janine about your previous kiss, you suddenly don’t care and have the desire to kiss her all over again.

“Jessie.” You stare at her lips while saying her name. You don’t know if she noticed you’re staring, but her tongue runs over her bottom lip, wetting it.

“What?”

“Don’t, what, me. You know what.” Your eyes don’t move from Jessie’s lips.

“No I don’t. You’ll have to enlighten me.” You do, leaning in your hands finding her face you pull her toward you. Your lips meet hers, they’re warm and soft and plump against yours. Her hands find your hips, pulling you against her hard. Her grip is tight, it feels safe. This time you’re able to finish your kiss, both of you pulling away just before you debate sliding your tongue against her lips.

“You really should stop bringing coffee to my office I guess, it always seems to end like this.” You let out once you both breathe for a second. Jessie lets out a soft laugh.

You hear the door to the training room open and you jump away from Jessie, turning to pretend to organize something, finding nothing, everything already being packed up. This leaves you just standing there looking at the wall. You and Jessie both look over to see Janine standing there, coffee in one hand, training bag in the other and a smirk across her face.

“Well you two aren’t suspicious at all.” She says sarcastically as she walks from the doorway further into the training room and in your direction. “I’d recommend actually doing something to make it look like you two weren’t just doing what I think you were.” You can’t read her tone as she speaks to you. “Looking at imaginary things on the wall doesn’t really work as a good cover.” She stops behind you to speak softly only to you. You stay facing the wall, not wanting to turn and let either of the players in the room see how bright red your cheeks are.

“I’m going to go change, I’ll be back in probably 5 minutes, behave yourselves.” Janine says to both of you, she walks away into the changing room.

“Whoops.” You turn back to look at Jessie who is still standing where you kissed her. You both have matching blushes on your face.

“At least it wasn’t my mom this time.” You shrug at her, trying to make light of the situation again.

“I guess,” she shrugs back.

“But seriously Jessie, we can’t keep doing this, we leave for Paris in less than 36 hours. You have to go, be focused, be this team's leader, we can’t, I can’t be distracting you.”

“I know.”

“So that means no more surprise coffees, no more private meetings, like Janine said, we have to behave. Strictly professional from now on. No more of this.” You use a finger to point between the two of you.

“Strictly professional, got it.” She nods at you but her smile tells you she’s not taking you seriously.

“I’m serious this time Jessie.” You try your best to be stern with her.

“So am I.” You were both lying through your teeth, and you both knew it but neither of you were going to call each other out and say anything.

“Or just until the Olympics are over.” You add, hoping she’ll maybe be interested in whatever the two of you were doing come the end of the games.

“Until it's over.” She flashes you a smile before turning to leave, following in the direction Janine went to change. She flashes you a smile before heading through the doors. You move back into your office leaning against the desk.

“Hey.” You jump as Janine flies around the corner of your office door. She walks in closing the door behind you.

“Okay I don’t have a lot of time, but I need to talk to you really quick.”

“What’s up?” You move behind the desk, looking for her file pulling it out. You start to open it and Janine’s hand comes down on it, closing the folder hard.

“This isn’t about me.” She’s staring down at you as you sink back into your chair.

You realized exactly what this was about. “Oh.”

“If you so much as hurt a hair on her head-”

“I won’t.” You interrupt.

“I wasn’t finished.” You nod, letting her finish. “Jessie is a special human and quite frankly she doesn’t need you. She’s perfect on her own, she’s strong and independent and she doesn’t need you, but she wants you, so I’m going to respect that, but please let her focus on this tournament. I don’t know what you two are really doing, she’s been pretty tight lipped, but please. She’s smart but she might not think straight with her crush brain, she might think she can handle starting something with you during this tournament, but she can’t. She needs to be focused. She’d hate herself down the line if she let someone get in her head and mess with her playing. She’s worked her life for these tournaments. This team needs her focused, not distracted because of you.” Janine rants at you.

“I know. We’ve discussed it. I won’t be a distraction to her or to anyone. I promise, I want what’s best for her and the whole team.” You mean it, you want what’s best for the team, and you don’t want to distract Jessie or anyone, you saw how hard they all worked and would hate to be the reason anything went wrong.

“You seem like a good person, and given that Jessie likes you so much, you must be. So I’m going to trust you.” Her hand comes off the file on your desk.

“Janine! Come play Teqball with me!” Jessie hollers through the training room.

“Ahh the queen of Canada awaits.” Janine says, looking at you. She turns to leave, her hand on the doorknob. “Just so you know, I’m serious, don’t hurt her, I’ll make your life miserable.” The way she spoke with still a large smile while telling you she’d ruin your life was slightly terrifying, but very much fitting for her Canadian personality.

“I know.” You just nod. And you did know. It wouldn’t just be Janine coming after you if you messed up with Jessie her entire team would hate you. If you distracted her from the tournament the country of Canada would hate you. You’d never get to work for a Canadian team, you’d never get to live that down. Your nerves build up a bit, even though you had no intentions to hurt Jessie ever, things happen, life happens.

Your spiral of nerves is diminished as you hear Jessie’s laugh carrying through the room. Just her laugh made you smile, your nerves ease. You were in deep, probably in too deep, but there wasn’t anything you could do now, except go to Paris and do your best to just be coworkers with Jessie. You needed to be invisible and not a distraction..

So that’s what you did. Or at least tried to do.

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jflem #jessie fleming imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader #canwnt x reader

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soapybutt17 · 1 day

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The Ex and Why's

Summary: No one knows much about Simon’s life aside from what was listed on his files. The family that had died a tragic death, the trauma that came with his actions, and the rank that made him what he was today. No one had realized that behind the balaclava wearing man from Manchester was a man that once had a heart and signed divorced papers he had constantly regretted signing all those years ago.. Character: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Ex Wife!Reader. John Price. Kate Laswell. Johnny "Soap" MacTavish. Kyle "Gaz" Garrick Word Count: 9,787 Chapter Warnings: Angst with Happy Ending. Miscommunication. Mention of Minor Character Deaths. Mention of Divorce. Life threatening Injuries. Mention of Simon's tragic past and trauma. Not edited (sorry!) AN: I can now sleep in peace. If you enjoyed it why not visit my mini celebration and post your own requests I can write just like this.

Masterlist || Request are Open || 500 Followers Celebration

When you had learned about this new job, one thing you had so gotten used to doing was letting Simon know about it. But not this time, something about letting him back into your life wasn’t something you should do anymore. You were no longer married to him by your own choice and no one else’s. So you know it was time to wear your big girl pants now and stopped letting him know about it.

You no longer had any reason to give your ex-husband any updates about your life. A more selfish reason was how you just wanted to start a new life, away from him and away from anything that was related to him.

“Ms. Riley?”

You turned smiling at the man that would now be your new boss. You learned his name to be John Price, a Captain.

Being married to a man like Simon Riley once upon a time, you know some thing or two about what goes on inside of a military base. Even when he hasn’t talked much about it with you during your relationship or if he even gone as far as mention your existence to the people he had once worked with. You chalked it up to overprotectiveness and fear that they would get to you, and some night thing that he was simply embarrassed about you. Maybe it’s another reason why you had opted out of telling him about this new job of yours.

“Captain Price, it’s good to finally meet you.” You firmly shook the man’s hand. A good first impression was the best thing for you to do if it meant making sure you work for the man for the foreseeable future.

“Likewise, Laswell as spoke great things about you and I’m hoping to be able to experience it firsthand.”

You nodded with a smile. Working for Kate’s wife for nearly a few years beforehand, you had appreciated the suggestion for this new role as a secretary for the Captain ever since your divorce. She had understood you needed this change in pace in your life and this was much of a welcome change.

“I do hope it’s all good things.” You quipped right back earning a deep resonating chuckle from the older man.

“Well I think now that introductions as over and done with, let me show you to my office. I do hope you’re up for dealing with a handful of documents for me on your first day.”

“More than happy to.” You beamed following the man, his larger hand holding onto the small of your back as you began your journey into the heart of the base.

All throughout the walk, he was giving your directions to where most things were. You were warned how some men could be rowdy at time and he was more than happy to help in the off chance that any of his men would give you problems.

All you could do was smile, not wanting him to know that you were more than well equipped to punch or kick anyone that would get too handsy with you. One of the perks of having an ex-husband working for the military.

He continued on with how things go around in the base. Schedules for meal time and the curfew in the event that you would be staying in the base overnight. He had also showed you to where your new room would be located in.

“You would be a few rooms away from my own as well as the Lieutenant and Sergeants that I trust most. In the event that I’m unavailable, they will be more than willing to lend you a hand if you need it.”

You nodded before you finally arrived in his office. Opening the door for you, you were greeted with a spacious office. Even in the chaos of the military base, the man’s office was pristine, a few knick knacks and photos that littered his walls, as well as a bookshelf that housed an array of military strategies books. But the most alarming thing about his office was the other table that housed stack upon stacks of folders, papers practically spilling out from each and every single one of them.

“I may or may not have underestimated the help I truly need in this situation.” The Captain said sheepishly as you began opening the folders and gasped that most of them weren’t even ordered correctly even with the page numbers printed on them.

“I think I can manage this.” You blinked hoping you didn’t bite more than you could chew in this moment.

For the next few hours, your time was spent removing staplers upon staplers from the papers for each and every single one of the folders while you were inquiring to John the calls you would be fielding for him from now on and how he would want you to deal with it.

You had learned so much about the man in the few hours being in the same room as him. He was a man that wanted to ensure the safety of the world, even if it meant bloodying his hands up a little just to make sure of it. It showed with some of the missions reports that you may or may not have accidentally read too much into. You’ve also learned how much he hated talking to upper ranking officials if not needed, he was a man that hated authority yet he was working in the field that he was in right now from the way his comments about letting calls from upper ranks go to voice mail if possible.

“Will there be anything or anyone that I should be worried about for now?” You inquired making sure that you did not stir anyone in the wrong way if possible.

“I’m sure Laswell has told you enough to understand our work. Some men are more scarred than sane and if possible, I want you to make sure that you do not give anyone the wrong impression if possible.”

You know what he was implying and with your own experience you know far too well that getting yourself involved with another man in uniform would lead into.

“I’ve done my fair share, Captain. I don’t think that would be much of a problem with me.” You reassured him.

“Laswell told me you were divorced.” He began, huh, who would have thought the man would be the gossiping type.

“It’s been a few years,” You shrugged attention solely on rearranging the files at hand. “It took months before my ex-husband signed the papers, I wanted to think it was because he was deployed but I knew otherwise.” You muttered.

When you had made the decision to finally break things off with Simon, it was like pulling teeth with the man and his near avoidance about the discussion or where you would be sending the divorce papers. You had enough of it, leaving the home you once shared instead with everything you owned and left nothing more of you than the divorce papers alongside the wedding ring and engagement ring he had given you all those years ago.

“He was military too?”

“Something like that.” You nodded not wanting to think too much about the man. Even after everything, you still worried about you giving the man too much information in the event that he works for the opposing side if the chance may have it.

“Well his lost is my gain.” He snorts turning his attention back to the freshly arranged folders courtesy of you that were now ready for his signature. “No offense.”

“None taken, Captain.”

Eventually the man had excused himself for a meeting and had instructed you that no one would be allowed inside aside from him. He had also reminded you about lunch which you could head on out first or you could join him once his meeting was done. You’ve decided it would be best to join him for lunch for now, just to get a feeling of anyone that you would get into contact with on your first day.

With a quick goodbye, you were left on your own and you all but groaned at the folders still stacked up and yet to be touched. It truly made you wonder how the man could be so good in his job yet be so horrible with his paperwork. You will never understand.

Your eyes fixated for a moment on one of the pictures on the wall. It was your boss with three individuals. A blue eyed man with a horrible cut Mohawk but the biggest beaming smile on his face, his arm wrapped around a much younger man with darker skin but a bright eyes that twinkled with happiness for whatever was going on when the photo was taken. But amongst the camaraderie and enjoyment was a man in a skull balaclava mask that had such an empty but somehow familiar eyes, the man stuck out like a sore thumb even with the Captain’s hand resting on the taller man’s shoulder and beaming smile and a cigar between his lips. It was an odd mix of people but it was like family—it made you miss Simon for a moment before your attention got right back to the paperworks.

You can’t think of him now. Not anymore.

After the events of Las Almas, Simon Riley had truly fought the urge to call you, to tell you how much you mean the world to him and how he was now more than willing to give you the compromise you had always longed from him. But a part of him, the bigger and much darker part of him had refused, slamming his own phone onto the wall in the sheer anger of everything that had occurred in the moment. You had made your choice because of his own action and he would be cruel to take that away from you.

“Heard Cap had a new Secretary, old man’s gonna finally keep his paperworks in check now.” Soap had ruining Simon’s sulking in the cafeteria.

It’s been a grueling few days. With new recruits he was forced to deal with in the morning and nightmares that you no longer could vanish for him at night. His life was nothing more than misery personified and he has no one else to blame but himself.

“Can’t say I’m surprise. Laswell probably set it up for him.” Simon muttered being more than within earshot when he heard both Laswell and Price arguing about the man’s need for necessary help with files. It was Laswell’s decision above anything else, it’s just a matter of time if the secretary would actually last with how everything goes around here in the base.

“Still, hope we’ll have a new bonnie around. Getting sick and tired of seeing Bampots all around.”

Simon didn’t even had the energy to question the man’s slangs, his attention solely back on his cup of tea and lunch—how horrible it was compared to your cup and cooking, but he never truly appreciated it until it was gone. His tea was too bitter even with the sugar and cream he added and the food that didn’t have the special kick compared to your own cooking. Even years after the divorce he was still so miserable without you in his life.

“Steamin Jesus.”

Simon could practically hear Soap melt from where he sat in front of him, his eyes directed at whoever was behind Simon. His curiosity got the better of him and his head turned and he was welcomed with the last person he would have ever believed to be walking besides one John Price.

“Yer lookin’ a bit peely wally.” Soap pointed out breaking Simon from his trance.

“English, MacTavish.”

“You look a lil’ pale, Lt. Like you’ve seen a fucking ghost.”

Simon could have at this point. As you walked besides Price towards the table he sat in. He noticed how unaware you were even at the sight of him only for him to realize that you had never seen him with his mask on, or in anything that has to do with his line of work—until now.

“Right, I think it’s time to introduce this lovely lass.” Price cleared his throat but he should have known by now that both Simon and Soap’s attention were already on them both. “This is Y/N Riley, my new secretary.”

Simon’s brows rose at that little tidbit. You still had his last name. He understood to a degree why you did so—your family that you had long cut off from your life after what they had done to you, but after everything that had happened between the two of you he wouldn’t have expect you to choose the lesser of two evils—being his last name.

“Riley? She a sister or wife to you, Lt?” Soap’s quick remark earned him a glare from Simon before his attention was back to you, how your brows furrowed before your eyes finally widen in realization.

“Purely coincidence.” Simon muttered.

“This is Sgt. Johnny “Soap” MacTavish and Lt. Simon “Ghost” Riley.” Price introduced almost realizing at this point the similarity of the last name you both shared in this moment.

“Nice to meet you two.” You smiled, quickly to compose yourself and shaking both men’s hand.

Even with the glove Simon wore, he could still feel the all too familiar electric shock of your touch against his own. He looked at you how easy your eyes dilated at his touch. It scared him still how you had so much of an effect on him even after the years apart from each other.

As you and Price excused yourselves to get lunch, it left Simon wondering if this was the world finally punishing him for everything he has done in his cruel life. Give him the very thing he had wanted the most only to pull it away at every instance.

“Bloody fucking hell.”

It’s been two weeks since you’ve began your new job as Captain John Price’s secretary. Two weeks since you had tried and succeeded in making sure you had avoided the man known in the base as Ghost—or to you, simply known as Simon Riley, your ex-husband. Every single instance that you were both placed in the same room (mostly in Price’s office), you both acted like you didn’t know each other, it was hard knowing just how close the man was after so long of a separation from each other.

But as much of an avoidance you’ve made for the Lieutenant, the same could not be said for the two Sergeants that had been dead set in making themselves both your companion while in the base but as well as your guard dogs from the ballsy few that would dare ask you out on a date. You appreciated the effort as much as it was not needed knowing it earned a dangerous glare from your ex in the process.

“Looks like you’re right at home.”

You jerked your head up from the files you were arranging at the voice of an all too familiar woman. A smile rested on your face at the sight of one Kate Laswell, your former boss’ wife.

“Kate.” You smiled an exhausted sigh escaping your lips at the sight of the woman. Both her and her wife had been the pair that knew what you had been through since your divorce and she was one of the two people that saw behind the façade you had decided to show the world.

“How are you holding up?” She inquired.

“Doing better.” You assured her. “Just a slight problem but nothing I can’t deal with now.”

“Oh no. Is your ex-husband bothering you again? I told you to just say the name and I’ll find some dirt on him in a heartbeat.”

You chuckled, knowing how that would be close to impossible with the man’s stand and rank in the Taskforce.

“Simon Riley.” You said instead and watched the way her eyes widen upon realization.

“Why did I not put two and two together?” She snorted realizing the small misjudgment on her part. “Does John know?”

You shook your head. You didn’t know how, but in the weeks of working at the base, you had been successful enough not to let the small detail spill. It was for both of your sakes and you feared that if you told the man, you would be fired and not him, not that you would want him to choose between the two of you.

“It would be a shame if John couldn’t keep you working for him because of your past with Ghost. I’m actually able to see his files being sent to me on time for once and he’s less stress in this past week for once.”

You blushed, knowing that that was a compliment, something that was rarely spoken by one Kate Laswell in the years of working for her wife.

“I genuinely don’t want to go either.” You spoke honestly. “Even with the situation.”

“Will you keep the information to yourself for now?” She inquired. “What does Ghost think of this?”

“I haven’t talk to him since I’ve gotten here.” You spoke honestly. “And I think it would be better if don’t talk to him about it either.”

“Talk to who about?”

Both of you had jerked your head towards the owner of the voice and it was Price with your husband, Soap, and Gaz in tow. You looked panicked at Kate hoping she could help you out this predicament with the man in the very room with them.

“My wife’s been asking how she’s been holding up since the divorce and if she’s gotten around to talking to her ex.” Kate brushed off and you wanted to face palm yourself, not the answer you were hoping for her to give.

“Wait you were married?” Gaz piped in with surprise.

“Was.” You corrected, eyes glancing towards Simon for a moment before turning your attention right back to the younger man. “But it’s nothing to worry about, you know how Kate’s wife is.” You tried your best to reassure everyone.

“Well that bloke lost something good that’s for sure.” Soap quipped right back with a flirty wink. You’ve learned this was the default with the man. “Right Lt?”

Both you and Kate found yourself looking at the man and it somehow clicked to him that you both were now more than aware of the currently predicament that fell before you and without another word left the office, slamming the door behind him.

To this very day, Simon still can’t understand why he had signed those papers. Why didn’t he just talk with you and made a compromise. Instead he became an asshole that avoided any forms of communications with you until he was left with no other choice but divorce papers waiting for him at home and every single trace of you no longer in the home you two once shared.

In the deepest depths of his bedside drawer was the divorce papers that officially separated him from you, the two ring boxes that housed his wedding ring and the engagement ring he had bought for you. Around his neck, alongside his Dog tag was your wedding ring—the same wedding ring you had left on top of the coffee table of your home, with the divorce papers right under it.

It was his fears that finally came to life and he truly didn’t know why his body automatically signed without even reaching out to you first. To this day, in the years that has passed he still wonder what his life and relationship could be if he fought for your marriage.

Would he still be married to you right now? Would the two of you finally have the family you had always wanted? Maybe by now your first kid would have been three, he had always dreamed of having a daughter. A darling little girl that was a spitting image of you, a daughter he would protect with his life over and over again.

That could have been his life, but he was far too stupid for his own good. He was too much of a bastard that ruins everything good that comes into his life. He pays the price every single night he comes home to his apartment—empty and lacked the warmth that only you could ever give to someone like him.

He made his bed and he was sleeping in tears because of it.

“There he is, good you’ve got your arse here, LT.”

Another one of the mistakes he seems to be making in his life was joining the rest of the team in the pub and realizing that you have come to join them this time around.

Bloody fucking hell you were as beautiful as the first day he had ever laid eyes on you. There was the twinkle in your eyes he had once thought he had diminished as you continued on with whatever conversation you were having with Gaz with Price listening on. You had on your favorite red crepe dress that slightly showed some cleavage but not enough to be indecent, with your favorite locket that he had brought for you while you were still dating, and the first ever expensive Cartier watch you had brought for yourself (which Simon would have more than willingly bought for you if you allowed it) while saving up your checks.

Fate was nothing but a cruel sick man for giving this sight of you in front of him and never allowing him the taste he always craved. A gift that wasn’t his to accept—anymore.

“You know how traffic is, Johnny.” He muttered finding himself sitting beside the man and in the process finding himself sitting right in front of you in the process.

“Bullshit,” Soap snorted. “Stopped by a bonnie we didn’t know about?”

Simon glanced towards you, the momentary hurt that passed through your eyes before you continued on with your conversation with Gaz, now hearing you were both talking about your Uni days and how you found yourself involved with working for Laswell’s wife all those years ago.

“Don’t have the time nor the energy for another headache in my life.” He spoke realizing that it was the wrong thing to say with you in front of him. He could have said it if you were not here, but not in your presence, it diminishes every single thing he had ever had with you.

It wasn’t what he meant but he couldn’t truly take it back.

“I can second that.” You spoke finally meeting his eyes this time. An unrecognizable look in your eyes as you stared right at him. “And this is coming from someone that’s already made a mistake of ever getting married to a man in the military.”

This has opened the floodgate for everyone in the table to question you about your apparent divorce. He had no one else to blame for this than himself. He listened in now as you continued on answering questions about your relationship with him and the eventual divorce, but made sure it was vague enough not to have fingers pointed at him.

“So, you loved the man more than life itself and all that, why divorce?” Soap had asked the million dollar question.

“It’s gets tiresome to love someone that doesn’t want to help himself.” You spoke honestly. “Year of trying to understand him, only to push shoved away over and over again, it hurts and it gets tiresome. I just had to go before the love turns to hate.”

In the years since the divorce, there was never closure between the two of you. The forms of communications that you both had were mostly about him being deployed again or of you and your plans of moving around or changing careers. Never did either of you had the much needed closure that you both deserved—until now, not directed at him.

“If any of you ever attempt getting involved with a guy or girl make sure you’re serious about the relationship a hundred percent, not fifty, not seventy-five, not even fucking ninety. Because that small fraction you’re not giving them might be the very reason why everything falls apart.”

Simon finds himself blinking at the words that now escaped your lips. The downright resentment that still lingered in your tongue even after everything that had occurred between the two of you. He shouldn’t have signed those fucking divorce papers.

Marriage Counseling, they should have had marriage counselling like you had begged from him all those years ago.

He stood, excusing himself to order the next round of drinks. He doesn’t have it in him anymore to listen to your words cutting him to the very core.

One of the biggest mistake about accepting Price’s offer of going out with the rest of the team for a quick drink was forgetting your non-existing alcohol tolerance. As the drink was now swimming through your blood stream, your lips become looser and there were few moments were you had almost spilled the fact that your ex-husband just happens to be sitting in front of you in the table you shared with the rest of 141.

“You sure you’ll be alright to head home on your own?” Your boss has inquired the moment it was announced the pub was closing up for the early morning.

You nodded with a smile, but the warmth that you were certain painted your skin and the dazed eyes, you were all too sure that it would be a big mistake for you to do. Go knows how dangerous it would be for a drunk like you to head home all on your own.

“I’ll take her home.” Simon announced and before you could protest, John had nodded agreeing that it would be the best thing to do and you couldn’t protest or show even a smidge of irritation as you were given a death glare by your ex-husband.

“Thank you for letting me join you guys.” You spoke towards your boss, the giggly duo of Soap and Gaz. “I’ll text once I get home.” You promised them following Simon out of the pub.

You took a deep breath as the cool morning air sobered you up for a moment as you waited for the man with his car. Frowning when you realized the man didn’t have his car with him but rather his death machine known as his motorcycle.

“Here.” He muttered practically shoving an all too familiar helmet towards you.

Like quick work, you had put on the helmet, ensuring to adjust the strap before the man does. You were still unprepared to be in close proximity with the man but here you were.

Watching him pull down the foot peg, he turned to you waiting for you to ride him—ride his motorcycle. With a deep breath you rode behind him, the skirt riding up your legs and he was quick to pull it down for your own decency before revving the engine on.

“Hold on tight.” He ordered and your body was on autopilot as you wrapped your arms around his waist as he sped off.

You know it was the alcohol but you find yourself smelling him, the all too familiar smell of his musk and cologne—the same cologne you had given him when he told you were promoted to Lieutenant. Your head rested on his back, cheek squished against the expansion of his back, feeling the way his back tense at your touch as it had the same effect for you feeling his warmth all over again.

“Where?” He questioned you as the bike halted at the stoplight.

You slurred your words, but you did your best to tell him directions to where your apartment was. Your sober self would have slapped you at the back of the head for letting Simon know about your whereabouts, knowing it wasn’t something he needed to know anymore.

For a moment as the winds blew against your cheeks, you were brought back to the memories of your time together. How you feared his driving and his bike more than anything else in the world but every single time he made sure you were at your safest with him, always did even in this moment.

You remembered the dates you would both have at night when he was at his most sleepless. By the park, your arms wrapped around him as his head rested on your shoulders. How you had carried so much of his nightmare even when you truly knew nothing but what he would let you know which wasn’t much and would only be in the instance that you would have accidentally heard during his nightmares.

You remembered how tired you were as much as you loved him, how much he had meant the world to you in that very moment but slowly but surely it wasn’t the same anymore. You felt the resentment before the anger for everything he wasn’t willing to give you. You gave him everything thing but he could barely give you anything in return.

“We’re here.” Simon announced, pulling away from him you turned and he was right. You were back in your apartment and you didn’t realize how fast time has flown since as you were deep in your thoughts.

Hopping down the bike with the man helping you, you turned to him and your mouth moved before you could stop yourself.

“Want to head inside—for coffee at least as a thank you?”

“I think coffee and a conversation would be the best thing for the both of us to do at this point in time, Love.”

You felt your pulse quicken as everything single thing you had talked about in the pub was coming back to bite you in the ass. Simon has his ulterior motive after all for wanting to escort you back home.

All you did was nod, heading to the door with the man following closely behind. You felt your hands shaking but you had succeeded in keying the door open. Opening the door for him, you walked further inside, opening the lights and toeing off the flats you had on.

You placed your wallet and keys on the coffee table and found yourself sitting on the couch waiting for the man to follow you.

You heard Simon close the door, the sound of the lock being turned and the sound of his leather jacket had you worried for what was to come.

“I fucking take you seriously with the bloody helmet still on your head.” He pointed out as he stood right in front of you, unclasping the helmet from your head and for the first time in a long time, you saw him up close and the way the darkness of his eye bags was the most prominent about him—it had gotten so much worse than when you were still married. Was it because of you?

“Sorry.” You mumbled as you watched him place the helmet on top of the coffee table alongside most of your things.

“Where’s the kitchen?”

You pointed towards you left and the man had made himself at him. The sound of cupboard being opened and the all too familiar muttering of horrible instant coffee you always wanted was heard. You wanted to let out a giggle but the sudden fear of the reality of your decision brought back something you never thought you would ever relive.

You sigh elbows digging onto your thighs, as your slumped your face into your hands. Why did you offer to have him here? Why did you accept the offer of him taking you back home? Why did you accept Kate’s offer of working for John? Why did you decide to divorce Simon?

In your own mini-panic attack, the smell of vanilla latte had you pulling away from your hands and you saw the cup of coffee already in the table and Simon was already sitting in front of you, without the surgical mask and without the figurative mask he was wearing at the base.

“Why are you doing this to me?” He questioned.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of all the places you could work why the base?”

“It’s not like I knew you were working for Price.” You snort. “It was Kate that suggested I work there—a new environment for me after everything that happened.”

Kate had called it her own version of exposure therapy. You truly appreciated her help even after knowing your ex-husband was working there in the same vicinity as you.

“You could have left?”

You snort. Aside from everything that came with the military, the money was too good to leave—but that was not something you would want to discuss with Simon knowing his intent to still provide for you even with the ink on the divorce papers were still drying.

“Why would I? You and I have nothing between us.” You spoke, knife sharp as his own words of calling you a headache to him.

“What you said to the team is that the real reason why you filed for divorce?”

All you could do was nod.

“You could have talk to me that you weren’t happy anymore we could have made it work.”

“No you won’t, Si.” You shook your head, arms crossed against your chest, you feared the words that would be thrown between the two of you now especially at your state. “I would have made it work.”

“What do you want me to do then? What could I have done then? You say one thing but mean something else?”

“Because every single time I wanted you to open up to me, you closed yourself up even more!” You spat right at him now. “Do you know how hard it was for me to bare myself to you about the shit in my life and in my family only to be reciprocated with how your family was fucked up but not an explanation for it?”

“That’s none of your business.” His voice grows dark, it was a sensitive topic.

“Then why were we even married if it wasn’t my business?” Your voice growing louder now, exasperated by this conversation. “What was the use of our vows if you would keep the smallest things a secret from me?”

“It’s not fucking small!” He screamed right back at you and you instinctively flinched at his voice then. Why was he being so cruel to you now?

“When I married you, I accepted you for who you are, I accepted that you can’t truly tell me what your missions were about or about whatever details about your deployment were. But even just something, anything that would make me believe that I was something more than a whore you could fuck and a maid that would take care of the house and cook you fucking food would have been appreciated.”

“You were my wife, wasn’t that enough?”

“No it was not, Simon.” You spat. “You never made me feel like I was truly your wife when you shut yourself down after coming home to me. You weren’t the same man that I had accidentally spilled coffee on when we first met.”

“If you knew me for the things I’ve been through you wouldn’t look at me the same way.”

“And how would you know that?” You questioned him. “How could you think for me when you don’t even know what I would think of you after everything we’ve been through?”

“You want to know the truth?”

“Yes. Maybe that way I can finally move on from anything that has to do with you.”

You know that was the wrong thing to say as the man cracked his neck and began to talk. About his life, about the abuse he had to endure at the hands of his father. He began to talk about the new beginning of his life when his father died and everyone tried their best to recover. He told you of his mother that he loved more than anything else at that point, of his brother, of his sister-in-law, and of his young nephew Joseph.

He told you about how he was finally at peace with the trauma of his life back then before things gotten to hell and back. He told you of the man named Roba, he told you of the abuse he had to once again go through at the hands of Roba’s men, physically, mentally, and sexually. He told you why he hated confined spaced after being buried alive in a coffin with a man named Vernon, a rotten corpse that he had to use the jaw of to escape death.

He told you of the death of his family, of Marcus Washington killing his family. Killing his mother, his brother, his sister-in-law, and his nephew that didn’t deserve being involved in anything the mission was about. He told you how he had to burn the bodies of what was left of his family and his identity in the process. You learned then why he was called Ghost and what it had meant for him and his past that continued to haunt him.

You were left stunned, unable to form words about everything that has happened to your husband. But it was the fact that now everything about him made sense. All the little things about his personality of why he was the man that sat in front of you today. It all made sense and it scared you that he was right. How you truly didn’t know what to say or what to feel now that you’ve learned of his past that he tried so hard to hide from you.

“Happy?”

“Don’t be cruel, Simon.” You whispered now, the tears were slowly forming from your eyes now, you wanted to cry for him, to mourn the family that he had lost and for adding yourself into the pain he was now enduring.

“Cruel?” He laughed, no humor in his words, malice was more evident. “What’s cruel is you still using my last name and airing out our dirty laundry to the men I work with instead of talking to me first.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore.” You shook your head, stung by his words. He was right but you weren’t going to admit it right now. A small ounce of pride still clawing its way out of you. “And you know why I still used your last name.”

It was your family. You wanted to erase was little traces of your family remained. Even in the divorce, you always had it in mind to remain a Riley. It was better than having to be the ghost of your former self all over again.

He stood now, knowing it was all he needed to know. He walked away but somehow a lingering thought had you opening your lips all over again.

“Why didn’t you fight for me, Si? Why did you sign the papers back then if you truly didn’t want to break up?”

“Because no matter how much I loved and needed you in my life, I will always choose your happiness before my own.” He answered, opening the door and leaving.

The sound of his bike echoing as you were left to mourn the closure of your relationship with the man that had meant the world to you. With all the regret finally coming full force you were left knowing that you had broken the man more than he already was and there was no turning back from it anymore.

It’s been well over a year now since you have been hired as Captain John Price’s secretary. Things were slowly but surely getting better for you and your career. Since the day you had talked with Simon, you wouldn’t say things between the two of you were getting better but you were civil with each other. You’ve interacted with him a few times, especially when it came to paper works but nothing more was said between the two of you.

Even with Price’s rule of not getting yourself involved with anyone in the team, it was becoming a mission for both Gaz and Soap to set you up with people on the base. Doctors or medics were somehow their number one target for you, but every single time, you find yourself relenting to just one date but never pushing for something more.

After knowing the truth about your ex, you didn’t have the heart to be so cruel to him more than you already were working in the base as him. Your free time away from base were spent with hobbies you had while still being married to Simon, baking and journaling, it was relief to be able to do it now with a new light was shed to the events of your marriage failing. You’ve also come to accept the offer of Kate’s wife’s therapist. It was a big help to be able to talk to someone else about everything you’ve been through.

You’ve learned to accept that you had your own mistake in the failure of your marriage just as much as Simon did. But your therapist has also come to mention that you needed to begin your own journey of healing from the what ifs of it, and live in the aftermath as painful as it was for you now.

“That dangerous?” You found yourself fearing for the worse at the conversation you were having with your boss as he explained to you the vague details of the upcoming mission him and the rest of the Task Force had for today.

With the chaos of prepping and planning, your boss was constantly on his feet and you were following him every step away for most of it to field calls and handle most of the paperworks to be sent out to sign and shipped to the higher ups. But to know a glimpse of what was happening and how your ex-husband would be involved in all of this worried you more than you would like to admit.

“It is what it is, if it meant a safer and better world, we would do it over and over again.” He explained.

“Just be careful, I still want to keep my job and I can’t if you’re dead, Boss.” You teased.

“Laswell can still be able to deal with you if I’m gone.” He retorted right back earning a quick laugh from you.

One thing that you had gotten so used to was his humor and how you had showcased your own as time went by working for the man. You appreciated him for being one of the two best bosses you had ever had in your career.

“Shouldn’t you be preparing for the mission?” You quipped right back.

“I should.” He chuckled standing right up in his full height. “Can you go check on the boys for me while I do?”

You could have refused, but a small part of you wanted to check up on Simon. Standing up, you had made your round, first stopping by Soap’s room to check up on him and notify him about the mission. Soap being the man that he was already suggesting you another man in the base beforehand.

“How about Micah? Pretty bloke that just joined the Medic team.” He began shoving the rest of his things into his duffle bag.

“Johnny, for the last time, I’m not into those pretty type you think I’m into.” You tried to indulge him in the conversation for now knowing it would ease him from the mission.

“What is your type so me and Gaz could actually find someone for you?” He pouted.

“Tall, blonde, dark and broody and with a heavy Manchester-accent.” You indulged him with description of the only man you actually loved.

“Why the fuck are you describing Ghost?” He snorts. “You got a thing for him? I thought you swore off anyone from the military?”

“Never said it was Ghost, Johnny.” You quipped right back. You hugged him and have him wrap his arms around you right back. “Be careful for me will you, I can’t live my life here in the base knowing you or Gaz aren’t here trying to set me up with anyone and everyone in the base including the married ones.”

“Hey we didn’t know Wilson was married.” He protested as he pulled away to look at you in offense.

“At this point I’ve already had dinner with half of the base, let’s keep it to a minimum when you get back. I might show you my ex so you can have an idea of what my type is.”

“Deal.” He grinned kissing you on top of the head before leaving to head to the meeting room.

You next stop was Gaz which wasn’t much of a journey with how close his room was to Soap’s. Knocking inside, you were immediately welcomed into the arms of Gaz. Unlike Soap that had been fixated with setting you up with someone in the base, Gaz was more focused on the next get together you could go to after the mission.

“I think me and Soap could convince Price to have a weekend in his vacation house in Cornwall.”

You nodded knowing it wouldn’t take much to convince Price if it meant helping the rest of the team with de-stressing and ensuring everyone has recovered mentally from the mission. But it also meant that you would be in charge of cooking knowing you and Price were the only ones that knew how to cook and you wanted your boss to actually have time to recover himself in the process.

“As long as you help me with grocery and prepping then you got a deal.” You winked pulling away from him with a smile already excited to bake them your famous apple pie they constantly beg you to make for them since the first time making it for them.

“Deal.” He grinned kissing you on the cheeks and just like Soap, finding himself heading out with his bag already at hand.

It now meant you had one last person you needed to stop by before the mission prep. You took your time somehow rehearsing what you could probably say to the man for his upcoming mission. You had your worry and you knew this was a dangerous mission.

Knocking on his door, you heard the gruff response from the other side of the door.

“Simon?” You called and immediately heard the door being unlocked.

You were faced with him wearing his skull balaclava mask. This was the side of him that you never gotten used to see but it was a part of him that you could never truly erase from him.

“What’s wrong?” He asked you allowing you to walk inside.

“Price told me to notify you about heading out for the mission.” You explained. “And I just—I just wanted to ask you to be careful on the mission.”

“Always.” He nodded.

A moment of silence has passed between the two of you before you were reminded of your therapist’s words. There was nothing wrong if you extended an olive branch to the man after everything was out in the open.

“After the mission, I would love to have you join us in Price’s cabin in Cornwall for a quick vacation too.” You added. “I know you’re busy with whatever you need to do to distress after a mission, but I would think it would be good to you if you joined. I can opts this one out if you’re more comfortable with that.”

“I’d go.” He nodded. “But I want you to join along and I want you to make me that lovely cheesecake you always make for me after I come home from deployment.”

You smiled knowing that it was always the same, a way to a man’s heart is always through his stomach.

“Anything else you want?” You asked wanting to give in to his all too simple request.

“And I want us to at least be friends, you’re part of the team now and they care for you and it wouldn’t do anyone good for us to act like we can’t stand each other.”

You nodded, heart aching a little at what he wanted. Friends. That was all he wanted and you would gladly compromise this time for him if that was what makes him truly happy.

“Friends.” You smiled, taking a hesitant step towards him for a hug but stopped mid movement as he pulled you right into his arms. The all too familiar warmth that consumed him.

“I wished things would have been different between the two of us.” He whispered kissing the top of your head. “I’d give you the world when I couldn’t give you myself fully.”

You closed your eyes wrapping your arms around his broad back.

“I wished I was strong enough for the two of us.” You whispered the tears slowly forming your eyes. “I wished I stayed a little longer for the two of us.”

“I never stopped loving you, Love. We might not be married anymore but you will be the only woman I will ever love truly with all my life and with all my soul.”

“You too, Si.” You whispered looking up at him allowing the tears to flow freely from your eyes now. “After everything that had happened between us, I will always love you.”

It was the middle of the night when you heard the familiar ringtone of your old phone. The same phone that only Simon knew the number to. You blinked away the sleep as you pulled the phone right out of the bedside table.

An unfamiliar number took you by surprise and for a moment you wanted to not answer it thinking it might be a telemarketer—but something had pushed you to press the answer button and hear whoever was on the other line.

“Hello?” You whispered clearing your throat.

“Mrs. Riley?” The familiar voice of John had you tensing. You found yourself sitting up from the bed as he began to introduce himself and why he had called.

“What happened to Simon?” You questioned checking your bedside clock to see what time it was.

It was just past midnight, three weeks since they had left for their mission and this was the first time you had gotten any contact to any one of them.

“As of right now, we are not sure if he would make it through the night. If you want we could have you someone fetch you to see him.”

You felt your world still at the news. Just when things were finally moving into the right direction between you and Simon.

“I’ll be there as soon as possible.” You assured hanging up and changing into some sweatshirt and sweatpants.

The travel to the now familiar base was a daze to you as you drove. You weren’t much of a religious person, but your lips did not stop moving as you prayed. You prayed that your husband would be alright, you bargained that you would make things right with him if it meant he would stay.

“Don’t leave me, Simon.” You whispered over and over again until you arrived to the base.

You had ignored most of the surprise that the soldier on duty had shown at your sudden appearance—the fact that you were in just your ratty clothes was also something you chose to ignore as you made a beeline to where the infirmary was.

Huddled in front of the door was your boss, John, Soap, and Gaz. Each and every single one of them injured in their own way—mostly superficial from the bandages that plastered all over their beaten faces.

“John.” You called having three heads turning to you in question. “How is he?” You questioned as the tears begin to fall from your eyes at the reality of the situation coming to crush you. “How is my husband?”

The realization washed over all of them, of the secret you and Simon had hidden from everyone. The weight was too much as you were wrapped in the arms of the family you had found yourself becoming a part of.

“Will he be alright?” You pleaded, holding onto John’s vest. “Please tell me he will be alright.” You begged falling to your knees in front of him.

“The doctors are doing their best, Love.” John reassured kneeling in front of you, wrapping you into his arms as you continued to sob. “But Simon took most of the impact from the explosion.”

The reality scared you so much. You tried you best to remember the last interaction you had with Simon, the hug, the promise of a new beginning, and everything else in between. It all came crashing down to this very point.

There was a very big chance that you will finally lose Simon and it scared you so much more than anything in this world. You couldn’t lose him, not like this, not when there was so much left between the two of you to make up for.

“He can’t leave me, John.” You whimpered. “He promised me he wouldn’t leave me like this.” You screamed at the top of your lungs.

You were made aware of the vows you had made to each other when you got married at the court house. Of how he had promised to the best of his abilities that he wouldn’t die in the line of duty before he could have the chance to retire. He promised you a family, he promised you the world, and he promised you your happiness. He was your family, he was your world, and he was your happiness that you realize only when it was too late.

For the next few weeks, the world around you had become blur. You were now much of a permanent fixture of the Taskforce’s base. Morning and the afternoon was spent still working for Price, especially with the piling number of paperworks the mission had caused and your nights were spent in the infirmary, watching over Simon that has yet to awake from his slumber.

When the doctors had given you the green light that you can see him—it took you hours before you did. Even after John, Soap, and Gaz had finished with their own visit, it took so much of what little strength you had to finally see him in his state.

Broken bones, laceration, head trauma, blood loss and amongst the other injuries that the doctors has informed you should have killed him but he was still alive even in his current state. He still had fight in him, he was still fighting to keep alive.

“I’ve come to realize that post-mission Price was a whole different breed of a grump, more than he usually is.” You began talking to your still unconscious ex.

The doctor had told you about him being able to hear your voice and you took the opportunity to talk his ear off with him unable to give his usual sarcastic comments or grunts as response. There were days you told him about your day at work, days where you told him about what you had been doing since you left your home and tried and failed to move on from him, and there were days where you apologized to him, regretting the divorce and everything else that been the reason for the demise of your marriage.

“I think since the divorce I’ve realized a lot of shit about us.” You sighed leaning against the uncomfortable plastic chair. “If you wake up, I’ll try to do my best to convince you to take me back.” You mused arms crossed against your chest. “I know you don’t have as much of a happy memory after what happened to your family, but when you wake up, I want to make sure we make as much happy memories as we could together, I want you to tell me about what your Ma was like, what kind of brother Tommy was like, and how adorable Joseph was, I want all of that and more with you.”

You wiped away the tears that have yet to fall, you didn’t want to cry. You thought that you didn’t have any more tears to shed. The gravity of almost losing Simon was the wakeup call you needed and now it was nothing more than a waiting game until he wakes up.

“I fucking can’t be your friend, Si.” You admit. “I can’t be happy with just being your friend. I want you to be my husband again, Si. After almost losing you I know I can’t live knowing we haven’t fixed our relationship. I’ll do anything and everything to make it up to you, all the pain and hurt I’ve caused you.”

“Anything?”

You almost jumped from where you sat at the sight of the man whose eyes were now focused on you.

“Simon?”

“Am I just high or did you say what you did?”

“What?”

“That you would make up for everything?” He muttered groggily.

“I did.” You nodded blinking in disbelief that he was here, awake. Alive.

“Then marry me. Let me make it right this time, Love. I promise I’ll make it work, I’ll do my best to make you happy the way that you deserve.”

“Yes.” You answered almost immediately, finding yourself giggling about how ridiculous his second proposal was with his current state—but you didn’t want it any other way.

He requested for you to take his dog tag around his neck off and only then did you notice that your wedding ring enclosed around his necklace. Even with the years that passed, he still had it with him. The very same ring you two had brought together before you had headed to the courthouse for your marriage.

“Can I add another stipulation?” He held onto your free hand.

“Anything.” You smiled rubbing your hand against the callousness of his hand. “Anything to make it work, Si.”

“No more blind dates from the Sergeants.”

“They could never hold a candle to you, Simon.” You giggled leaning in for a kiss, the weight that rested on your shoulders slowly easing away.

You were home, you were back in the arms of Simon after all was said and done.

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ricky-mortis · 5 hours

Text

I was inspired by @tapestryoftrauma ‘s wonderful writing, so here’s a drawing of Mark Chasity from his fic called Sink Into Me

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moviecritc · 8 hours

Note

ohhh i may have an idea for your polyamorous thing, what about the reader trying to soft launch her relationship with carlando but people keep thinking they’re just a group of very close friends or they think that she is only dating one of them and the other is just their friend so she gets tired of people not taking the hint and just ends up hard launching? maybe at a grand prix weekend?

captions ⋆ carlando smau

pairing: carlando x reader

summary: carlos, lando and you had been dating and soft launching each other for almost two years, and carlos just got bored of people thinking you're just friends.

warnings: some suggestive comments

a/n: not the biggest fan of lando EXCEPT when carlos is around so i loved doing this so much. also, it's my first smau, pls tell me what you guys think about it <3

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yourusername spent a few days watching this two drive in circles very fast (+ kiki)

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user1 NEW CARLANDO PHOTO JUST POSTED

user2 thank u y/n for feeding us with all this carlando content

landonorris dry ass caption

yourusername at least i post you you dumbass user1 never beating couple allegations user3 carlos must be so tired of third wheeling them

user4 THAT IS THE CUTEST DOG I'VE EVER SEEN

francisca.cgomes i'll never forgive you for naming your dog almost like me

yourusername it's my love language ok landonorris you could've named it lando or smth yourusername i'll change her name to nowins 💋 landonorris wait wat

carlossainz55 👑

landonorris ok i'll correct myself THIS is dry carlossainz55 you muppet yourusername at least he comments good things ?? user5 their friendship is top tier

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user1 here before y/n

user2 NOT LANDO SOFT LAUNCHING CARLOS

user3 i'm dying

user4 i don't wanna start something but that aren't lando's arms in the third picture

user5 it scares me that you can recognize lando's arms... user6 girl go touch some grass

yourusername and i'm the one getting called dry

landonorris i didn't want you to feel bad bout you're boring caption 💛

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yourusername you guys could've win at least

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landonorris isn't a podium not enough for you?

yourusername no landonorris yeah idc what you think yourusername THEN WHY U ASK i'm changing to red bull they'll give me more emotional stability maxverstappen1 please stay there i don't want to have lando in the garage looking for you

user1 cute cute cute friendship

user2 call me crazy but...

user3 but WHAT GIRL? user2 lando soft launching carlos and posting the picture of y/n with another boy (definitely carlos), and them posting each other anytime they can user4 girl they're just friends user5 yeah they've been knowing each other for a long time, they're just very close

carlossainz55 our biggest supporter 💛💛

yourusername always 💛 user2 OUR biggest supporter? them using the same heart lando used in a previous post? user6 paranoid

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user1 WAIT OMFG

user2 CARLOS HARD LAUNCHING LANDO AND Y/N I TOLD U GUYS

user3 they're all dating?

user4 isn't that obvious

yourusername cute dog

carlossainz55 Hermosa we talked about calling Lando our dog landonorris she meant kiki you muppet yourusername no i actually meant you baby

user4 y/n won the game with this two

user5 now i know how true jealousy feels like

yourusername my pretty boyss 💛

carlossainz55 🥰🥰

landonorris dream rides 🤩

yourusername lan- carlossainz55 I'm going to ban Lando from this app user3 LANDO LMAOOOO

user6 CARLOS AND KIKI ARE THE CUTEST AHGDJKJHFSA

charlesleclerc so happy for you guys

user7 charles approves

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carlossainz55 First

landonorris he's so obsessed carlossainz55 Yeah

landonorris now THAT is a good caption

francisca.cgomes ok cutiess

danielricciardo Y/N blink twice if you need help

landonorris shut the fuck up she's totally fine with us yourusername save me pls

user2 does she even have a job?

landonorris serving cunt? carlossainz55 Being the most beautiful woman in the world? yourusername i'm a publicist but yeah mostly what they said user3 you're so iconic for this

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bountydroid · 1 day

Text

Darlin' pt 6

pt 1 / pt 2 / pt 3 / pt 4 / pt 5

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader (Romance)

Description: Cooper and Reader feel the effects of the radiation.

Notes: My tags are still goofy I don't know what is going on I am sorry. When I am writing the post your profile comes up and I click on it but then when I post it it doesn't work? Help? You guys may have to just keep an eye on my posts. :(

Cooper still hasn't told us where he is taking us yet. The sun seemed to get extra hot as the day went on. I knew the irradiation of the river was starting to hit me, just like it was the vaultie. We both had sunken, dark eyes and pale skin. Radiation sickness was starting to set in. Cooper made sure I stayed close to him, his eyes only leaving me to bark at the vaultie when she slowed.

"This damn sun," I whined.

Without saying a word, Cooper took off his hat and dropped it on my head. I smiled ear to ear, the idea of wearing his hat filling me with joy. "Thanks, Coop."

His footsteps stuttered at the nickname. Little did I know, it brought back a flood of memories that were long forgotten. "Just don't lose it, darlin'." He mumbled.

The show of affection filled me with a burst of energy, adding some pep to my step as we trekked along in the sand. Eventually, we happened upon a small, derelict town. The old homes were covered almost half up their sides with sand. The houses now were all the same tan color as the ground, a reminder of the harshness of the wastelands. We walked up to a building with "Westside Medical Clinic" written on a big sign out front. As soon as we stopped walking we heard it. The yelling.

"Roger! My name... is Roger!" A voice roared from inside the building.

The three of us exchanged looks before Cooper pushed the vaultie towards the door, making her go first. "Stay behind me, sugar." He said quietly to me.

We slowly continued into the building as the snarling grew closer. The vaultie hesitated, not wanting to get any closer to the danger inside. This caused Cooper to give her another harsh shove. The fear swirling in my stomach made me feel like I was going to throw up. I grabbed onto the back of Cooper's coat for purchase. We finally made our way into the room where the voice was coming from. A man, or a ghoul, was sitting in the sand, mumbling and snarling.

"Hey Rog," Cooper greets him.

"Hey. Hey." the man laughs, relieved to see his friend. "Fancy seeing you here. You out for that bounty, too, huh?"

"Yep," Cooper responds as he knelt in front of his friend.

You all stand there in silence for a bit, listening to Roger snarl and whip his head around.

"Oh, shit," Roger says between wails.

"How you feelin’?" Cooper asks quietly, already knowing the answer.

"Oh... you know," Roger replied. "It's hard out here. Dang smoothies can be so unkind. I see you got some smoothies of your own." He says as he looks over at the vaultie and me in the corner. "That one is cute with your hat on."

I give him a small smile as a blush warms my cheeks. "You like it? I'm thinking of keeping it." I say, trying to lighten the mood.

Roger lets out a gleeful laugh, "Oh, I hope she rubs off on you. Keep her around."

Cooper smiles in response, "Plan on it."

Roger cried out again, ripping the smiles off everyone's faces.

"You're turning," Cooper says reluctantly, he exchanges a worried look with you.

"Yeah maybe, maybe." Roger says on the verge of tears, "Maybe. Hey, you don't happen to have any vials, do you? Just one little puff and I'll be back on my feet. You know I'm good for it." Roger pleaded.

"I'm sorry Roger I am all out," Cooper says, looking sorrowful.

"That's okay. That's okay." Roger mumbles. "Though, um, you and your smooth-faced friends, you um... you might want to clear out before things get ugly."

Roger started to snarl again, he was growing louder and louder. It was horrible to watch. "Is this what will happen to Cooper?" I thought to myself.

"I did okay. 28 years since I first started showing," Roger said, before snarling again. "Oh, hell! Not as long as you are though." He pointed proudly at Cooper, "You've outlasted us all. How long since you first started wastelanding?"

"A long time," Cooper responds while shaking his head.

"That's a lot of vials," Roger said quietly.

"Well I've always been good at making money, Roger." Cooper exhales as he stands up. "Say, you remember how good food used to taste?"

"Yeah, BlamCo Mac and Cheese!" Roger says excitedly.

"Ice Cream and Apple Pie." Cooper countered.

"Hot damn! Apple Pie." Roger said, joy lighting up his face, even making the vaultie smile. "You know my mother used to-"

Before he could finish, Cooper shot Roger threw the head with no warning. I stumbled back in shock, tripping and falling on my butt and landing in the sand.

"Why did you do that?" The vaultie asked with tears in her eyes. "He was sick."

Cooper ignores her and starts making his way toward me while he holsters his gun. My eyes were glued to the man, lifeless on the ground.

"Darlin'." Cooper says pulling me from my thoughts and he crouches in front of me.

I look up at him with weeping eyes. "He...." I trailed off. I didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry," I whispered as the tears started to fall down to my chest.

"Don't be sorry, darlin'. Can you do something for me?" He asked calmly.

"Yeah." I managed to respond between sniffles.

"Wait in the hallway." He replies, rubbing my shoulder reassuringly. I give him a confused look before he starts talking again, "I don't want you to see this."

Realization washes over me. "You gonna eat him?"

"Just - just wait in the hallway." He says as he pulls me up to my feet. "Okay?"

"Okay," I mumble as I slowly make my way out of the room. I lean up against the wall and close my eyes. It's only a minute before I hear the vaultie begging.

"Stop. Stop Stop." The vaultie pleaded, "Please, I know it's hard out here but you don't, you don't have, you don't have to resort to... to..."

"What'd you say your name was?" Cooper asks her.

"Lucy MacLean." The vaultie replies hesitantly.

"MacLean?" Cooper asks a hint of recognition in his voice. "Huh. Well, Lucy MacLean, it ain't all peaches and marmalade left up here, sweetheart. Sometimes a fella gotta eat another fella."

Even from the hallway, I could hear the squishing from whatever he was doing in there. I felt nausea settle into my stomach, whether from the radiation or what Cooper was doing in the other room, I didn't know.

"You know, my vault has endured hardship too," Lucy said, pushing back. In the great plague of '77, everyone had to quarantine, they couldn't work the farms together, people starved. My mother included. My dad dropped to 128 pounds, and he still refused to do anything like this."

Cooper let out a deep chuckle at her words.

"What? What's so funny?" She asked, her voice dripping with venom.

"Well, there's what people say they did and what they really did." Cooper said, his accusation heavy in the air. "I'll bet your daddy was first in line at the cookout. I bet he had a bib with a drawing of his neighbor's ass on there."

"How do you live like this?" Lucy asks. "You obviously know it's wrong you sent her to the other room. So how do you do it? Why keep going?"

I open my eyes slowly at the mention of me. I didn't know if I could ever live like that, so Lucy's question piqued my interest as well. There was a heavy silence as I heard Cooper's footsteps making his way across the room.

"Well, one good question deserves another," Cooper responds, his voice was dark, sending a shiver down my spine. "Why the fuck am I doin' all the work? Now come on vaultie, ass jerky don't make itself."

This was a side of Cooper that I had not seen since the night we met. Ruthless. Cruel. It made me wonder was this who he really was. Or was the sweetness he has shown me his true self? It was probably a little bit of both. The silence in the building was deafening. It was a moment before I heard Lucy's soft footsteps in the sand.

"She is actually gonna do it." I thought to myself in horror, letting out a soft gasp.

Once they made their way out of the room, Lucy's hands were covered in blood and she had an empty expression on her face. She was clearly traumatized by what she had to do to Roger. Cooper didn't look at me as they made their way past. "Come on, darlin'."

It felt like forever since the incident with Roger, but it was hard to forget as his skin hung from Cooper's pack. The three of us hiked in silence, tension had returned to Cooper and me as neither of us knew what to say to the other. Cooper had started coughing some time ago. This filled me with dread, we needed to get him some Radaway fast. Let alone, myself. I was getting sicker by the minute as I struggled with the poisoning from the river. My feet dragged in the sand behind Cooper as I struggled to keep up.

Cooper dipped his canteen into some water pooled in an old barrel. My chest filled with jealousy. I ran out of water some time ago and the lack of food and water was becoming painful. He made eye contact with Lucy as she watched him drink. This wasn't the first time he had teased her about her lack of water. Desperate for a sip, she fell to her knees in front of the water, scooping it into her mouth.

"Now you're gettin' it." Cooper mused as he watched her. "How does that golden rule jibe with what's goin' through your head right now?"

"What are you?" Lucy asked angrily.

"Oh I'm you, sweetie, just give it a little time." He responded.

"Because of the radiation poisoning?" I asked, my voice cracking from dehydration.

Cooper turned to me with a serious look on his face, "Not gonna happen to you darlin'."

I gave him a small nod before I squeaked out, "Okay." I trusted him completely.

As a coughing fit took over the ghoul, Lucy took her chance to make a run for it. I was torn between chasing after her and staying to comfort Cooper. Cooper started waving after her, signaling for me to chase her.

"Hey! Stop!" I yelled as I ran after her.

As we rounded the corner, she stopped to stare at the huge crater in the ground. I ran up next to her as I also marveled at the sight. I had never seen anything like that before. Suddenly, Cooper's lasso secured itself around Lucy's midsection as he pulled her down onto the ground.

"Where you think you're goin'? You ain't goin' nowhere." Cooper said as he stepped over her, leaning down to grab her face.

Lucy immediately responded by biting onto his finger and ripping it off with her teeth.

"Oh my god?!" I gasped out as I ran toward them. "Cooper."

He continued to keep his attention on Lucy. "There you are, you little killer." He said as he lifted her to her feet before grabbing ahold of her matching finger and cutting it off with his knife. "Now that right there is the closest thing to an honest exchange that we've had so far." He pocketed her finger before reaching down to pick up his own. "Here darlin'," He said as he handed me the rope that was tied to Lucy.

I hesitantly took it as I watched him rummage around in his pack for a small rag to wrap his finger in.

"You don't hurt, right?" I asked him.

"Don't feel a thing, sugar." He said smiling as he took the rope back from me.

This exchange seemed to have depleted Lucy's resolve completely as she quietly obeyed from there on out. It wasn't long after that that we reached an old building with the word SuperDuperMart written on it. It was surrounded by a broken-down fence and had some old cars in the front of the building. I was nervous, but Cooper's confidence calmed me as we approached the building.

"Transaction," Cooper said as he pressed on some sort of communication device. He threw his bag into the dirt next to him. He looked tired.

"Yes?" Someone responded.

"Two month's supply of vials. Exchange one female mint condition." He stated before looking over at Lucy's hand, "Near mint condition."

"Condition grading requires physical evaluation. Please send her in." The voice responded, there was something strange about the voice that I couldn't recognize. It almost didn't sound human.

The door to the building buzzes and slowly opens. Lucy watched it with concern evident in her eyes, "What's in there?" She asked.

"You're about to find out," Cooper replies as he cuts the rope that bound her wrists.

"You're selling me?" Lucy asks, a look of disbelief on her face.

Cooper pulls a gun from his hip and cocks it, "You got problems out here too, sweetheart. Best you try your luck behind that door. Go on." He says as he shoves her.

I watch on from behind Cooper as Lucy shuffles her way into the building, giving a nervous look back before she enters.

Once she enters, Cooper deflates. He was obviously putting on a show for her. Pretending he wasn't as sick as he really was. "Y/n?"

"Cooper?" I ask breathlessly.

Instead of responding, the ghoul collapsed.

"Cooper!" I yell out as I shake him. His eyes are open and he's still awake but for some reason, he was not able to move.

I pushed the button he was using to communicate with the man inside the building. "He can't wait he needs it now!" Only to get no response. "We will give you another person! A female near mint conditon." I say, describing myself.

Cooper whispered out, "No." I could barely hear him.

I crouch down next to him and place his hat next to him, "It's my turn to take care of you." I declared, giving him a sad smile.

I took his gun and tried to shoot the door to break it. I had never used a gun before, so it took me a minute or two to figure out. The glass, however, appeared to be bulletproof.

"Shit," I mumbled before placing the gun on the ground.

I then decided to try and pry the door open with no such luck. I run between the cars around us, searching for anything I can use to open the door. In one of them, I find a crowbar. "Yes!" I yell happily as I run back to the door. I wrestled with it for a while before I finally was able to get the crowbar inside, finally, I had some progress. I yelled out in frustration as I tried to open the door. It was the heaviest thing I have ever felt in my life. Moving it just an inch took more strength than I had, especially in my state.

After a couple minutes of struggling, I collapsed to the ground in exhaustion. I looked over at Cooper only to see he hadn't loved an inch. "Cooper?" I call out as I crawl towards him. I sit next to him and gently lift his head onto my lap, rolling him onto his back. "You'll be okay," I say quietly before looking up at the door. I was hoping that soon they would come out to give him the vials he was owed. The silence felt like it had been going on forever when there were suddenly gunshots coming from inside the building. I help Cooper a little closer, afraid and confused. I grabbed his gun again and held it close to my side.

"I've got you, Coop," I whispered to him.

The building then went silent again. There was a moment before Lucy strolled out the door, covered in blood.

"Lucy? What happened?" I gasp.

"They were going to harvest my fucking organs!" She yelled angrily as she sauntered over to us.

I shakily hold up my gun, causing her to stop in her tracks.

"He doesn't get these, he turns into one of those? That how it works?" She asked, holding up a couple vials.

I lower the gun and start begging. "Please, Lucy."

She crouches down next to him and contemplates for a moment before saying to Cooper, "I may end up looking like you... but I'll never be like you." Before getting up, she gently puts some vials in my hand. "Golden rule, motherfuckers."

"Thank you! Thank you so much!" I cry out happily as I start rummaging through Cooper's pockets searching for his inhaler. "I've got you, I've got you.." I kept repeating as I shakily put the vial in the inhaler and hold it up to his mouth. It takes a couple tries, but ultimately, he gets ahold of it and breathed in the contents. I make a happy squeak as he starts to move again.

He lets out a soft wheeze before saying 'Why the hell would you do that?"

"What?" I asked him confused.

"You were going to fucking sell yourself? For me?" He states angrily as he sits up to a sitting position.

"Well-" I start.

"Well, nothing. Never do that again." He shouts as he stands, pulling me up by my collar. The fear on my face softened him as he released my shirt with a sigh, "I ain't worth it, darlin'."

"You are to me," I say quietly. "You are never getting rid of me."

He lets out a small laugh as he smiles wearily, his resolve dimishing. "You are way too good for me, sugar."

"Well too bad, Cooper. You've got me." I say as kiss him on the cheek.

Just as I was pulling away he grabbed hold of my hip "Come here." He says as his lips crash into mine.

I let out a squeak in surprise before I started to return the kiss. It was sloppy and heated, filled with pent-up emotions. It was everything I wanted.

Tag list: @msrawog @valdemarismynonbinarylove @topiramategreeable @whizbang-cap @sitkafay @lightan117 @eykismyfav @ajeff855 @madelinealexandra @justme12200 @sihlaryn @raviolisenpai @ellabellabunny123 @impossessedbyjeongyeon @leviathanleva @v3lv3tf0x @judgementdays-girl @savanahc @booksbabes @gauky76 @green--beanie

#cooper howard #the ghoul fallout #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #fallout tv series #fallout

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scuderiasundays · 3 days

Text

free ride

summary: friction, spontaneous gifts, and revelations on a ride home + a little insta au at the end 💌

words: 673

a/n: a short blurb! haven't written in months but may post sporadically. tagging @vamossainz55, @sainzcaleruega, @monzabee, and @silverstonesainz just because. any and all feedback much appreciated as always! hugs and kisses 🫶🏼

“You can be so clingy sometimes.” Lando let out a sigh, one that was tinged with deep disapproval. He continued to hastily shove his belongings into the duffel bag you had gifted him mere weeks ago. Standing in the hallway, your mind couldn’t help but play back the memory of a happier time.

“You’ve gotten me a gift and it’s not even my birthday. If this is a taste of what a lifetime with you looks like, sign me up!”

Lando twirled with the sleek leather bag over his shoulder. Qatar Airways had lost his prized duffel (another “perk” of being a frequent flyer). While you were well aware he could easily afford a replacement, the sheer thought of giving back to him put a smile on your face.

“Check the luggage tag,” you said. He turned it over in his hand, revealing the number one engraved in gold.

“You do realize my driver number is four, right? Or was this meant for Max?“ He said, his lips turning upwards in a cheeky grin.

“Shut up, I just wanted you to show you how much I believe in you—my future world champion.”

“How did I get so lucky?” He pulled you close, cupping your face with both hands before planting a kiss on your forehead.

You shook yourself out of it as the front door slammed, realizing your vision start to blur. With 24 races on the calendar and work keeping you in London, it wasn't a total shock that things had gone south. Yet as you tried to make sense of it all, you couldn't decipher if it was Lando speaking or just the exhaustion from a 13-hour flight getting to him. All you did was ask if he wanted to join you for dinner with friends tonight, and he’d deemed you “clingy.”

You heard your phone buzz on the kitchen island as you grabbed the keys. It was Ashley calling. He’d call you on occasion when Lando asked him to but it surprised you nonetheless. He sounded worried as he explained that Lando wasn't feeling well at the MTC and needed someone to pick him up. Feeling a sense of urgency, you quickly shifted gears, realizing that you’d have to take a rain check on tonight’s plans.

Lando looked pale and small as he climbed into the passenger’s side of your car. You tried to help him in but he swatted your hands away, a lingering reminder of the tension between you. You turned up the radio to drown out the deafening silence when you suddenly heard his voice.

“I’m sorry about this morning.” You could just make out his eyes shifting from the window to you in your peripheral vision. To be perfectly honest, you hadn’t expected an apology out of him so soon.

“I never meant to tell you this but the thought of you walking away from me and us…Well, just thinking about it makes me queasy. I was on the sim and I realized I’d hurt you and my mind started spiraling and-”

You pulled the car over to the side of the road as his breathing shallowed.

“Hey, everything’s going to be fine.” You wiped the tears from his face and placed your hand on his thigh. It took a few minutes but you saw the color gradually return to his face.

“Anywhere you want to go? It’s rare you let me drive so I’m taking it all in.”

“Up to you. I’m just here for the free ride.” He giggled.

“Free, huh? Well, this girl charges in secrets. So, where’s Carlos headed next season?”

Lando ran his hands through his curls, a nervous tick of his.

"I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you."

He flashed a devilish grin, his eyes twinkling in the evening glow. As much as you despised the complications that came with all the time zones and miles apart, there was no doubt you'd find your way back to each other at the end of each day.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

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yourusername: i cry a lot but i am so productive! it's! an! art!

fan1: love that she's a swiftie but is lando the reason behind all her crying 🤨

fan2: if so, it's on sight!!!

landonorris: begging you to clear my name and confirm i am, in fact, the world's best boyfriend

yourusername: i love you but what did we say about a growth mindset?

carlossainz55: humble him, reina 🤭

yourbestfriend: love the fact that pimm fits perfectly in your 🚲 basket

pietra.pilao: soooo much love for you ❤️

#lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #lando norris edit #lando norris #f1 x you #lando norris fluff #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 instagram au #lando norris one shot #lando norris instagram edit #lando norris angst

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luxaofhesperides · 3 days

Text

greener on the other side.

Danny makes a habit out of hopping into portals and exploring the places he ends up. It just so happens that this time, he ends up in Gotham right as the Signal begins his patrol. Duke meets the strangest, funniest, cutest guy on the roof of the Gotham City Public Library. He knows Batman would not approve of literally anything he's doing, but sue him, he wants a meta friend and this guy seems to be up for it. -- OR: how Duke and Danny get together despite having secret identities and living in different dimensions.

chapter three: how it shines - 8.6k

read the entire fic on ao3!

the final chapter of this fic... and the end to the first fic in the series!! theres a lot i say in the end notes of ao3 so i highly recommend reading this chapter there! . . .

Signal: you ever feel like maybe the world is out to get you

Signal: [attached photo shows Signal lying in the middle of a torn up road, post-fight, his helmet lightly blackened with ash.]

Danny: buddy, the world has already taken me out

Danny: [attached photo is a selfie of Danny, frowning at the camera. Behind him, a large, flying robot is pointing a rocket launcher at him.]

Signal: okay, you win. are you alright???

Danny: lol im fine. this literally happens every week i know how to beat this guy up

Danny: tbh i think the real threat to my existence is school

Signal: so true. one day we will be free of it….

Danny: but not today

Signal: but not today

Danny: got a minute?

Signal: yeah what’s up?

Danny: u have a secret identity

Signal: …yes?

Danny: have u told other people abt ur secret identity

Signal: yes? but some of them just kinda found out on their own

Signal: why?

Danny: how did that go. did they react well? did u have to defend urself from them?

Signal: there were some problems about me throwing myself in danger, but i was always safe with them

Danny: okay. cool. got it.

Signal: everything okay?

Danny: im thinking about telling my parents a secret about me. im kinda terrified of how they’re going to react

Signal: are you coming out to them?

Danny: in a way i guess.

Danny: gonna recruit my sister into helping me talk to them. and also get rid of all their weapons beforehand so there’s a lower chance of them shooting me

Signal: shooting you?!?!? dude are you going to be okay??? don’t do anything that could get you hurt!!

Danny: gtg

Signal: dude??

Signal: danny?

Signal: let me know how it goes, okay? i can’t travel through dimensions like you can, but i can figure something out if you need a rescue

Signal: good luck danny!

Danny: ever get into a fist fight with a walmart knock off vampire in the parking lot of a burger joint?

Danny: [attached photo is Danny’s hand flipping off a man hovering in a parking lot. He’s wearing a cape and vampire-coded clothes.]

Signal: ever have a snack break in the middle of fighting a crocodile man?

Signal: [attached photo shows Signal holding up a half eaten taco, a giant crocodile man behind him with his own box of tacos. They’re sitting next to each other in an alley.]

Danny: point to u bc u actually got food

Signal: 😝

Signal: also, everything okay? with your parents?

Danny: let’s not talk about that.

Signal: okay. but if you do want to talk, i’ll be here for you

Danny: idk if dash is trying to annoy me into another fling or if he actually wants me to throw him across the field but if he doesn’t back off im going for violence

Signal: uh

Danny: THAT WAS MEANT FOR TUCKER IM SO SORRY

Signal: should i be jealous that someone is hoping for another fling with you lol

Danny: it was once and will never happen again. 1) he’s not my type 2) he’s so annoying

Danny: also why would u get jealous of anyone ure literally a hero? hello?

Signal: hey man that guy is with you in your dimension and im all the way over here

Signal: totally reasonable for me to get jealous!! this is like a more extreme version of having online friends

Danny: true… hey i can swing by for the weekend if u want!! honestly the less time i spend here the better

Signal: that bad?

Danny: i’ve known everyone here for my entire life. i need OUT

Danny: gothams cool! its a big city with things to do!!! obviously im gonna like it more than Normal Town Illinois 🤮

Signal: weather is bad all week tho…. even if you come over we wouldnt be able to go out

Signal: its been a while since we had a storm so bad

Danny: man if that was happening here i would be able to punch the storm away

Signal: im taking that as a joke

Danny: no i literally punched a storm away before. he was a dick tho he deserved it

Signal: ….this is still Normal Town Illinois right?

Danny: .

Danny: ok fine maybe u have a point

Danny: anyways!!! i just wanna hang out with you dude i would be happy just playing video games or something

Signal: we can do that!! let me know when u get here 😊

Signal: and good luck dealing w this dash guy!!

Danny: ugh dont remind me

Signal: hye u know our plana to hang out tody

Signal: maybe rain chek tht im not goos company rn

Danny: u ok? i can always come by some other weekend

Signal: got hit and everythif bad

Danny: did u hit ur head?

Signal: yes

Danny: ok im going to call u so you can stop looking at ur phone screen. just in case u have a concussion

The phone rings twice before Signal picks up. He mumbles something that might be a hello, but it’s honestly hard to tell.

“Hey, man,” Danny says, leaning back in his chair to look up at the faded glow in the dark stars he stuck up on his ceiling years ago. “Are you okay?”

Signal hums a vague response, then sighs, sending static down the line. “Just got a headache right now. Can’t even go out since it’s too bright.”

“Is it sunny in Gotham right now?”

“No, it’s super cloudy and that’s still too much. I hate concussions.” There’s a bit of a whine in his voice that reminds Danny that under the helmet, Signal is a normal guy just like anyone else. And like everyone else, powers don’t save him from the pain of brain trauma.

Danny would know; he’s gotten pretty good at taking care of injuries and the such through his high school career of getting tossed in lockers and attacked by ghosts. He’s pretty sure parts of his brain are still rattled from the amount of times he’s been thrown into and through walls.

“I hear you, man,” Danny commiserates, “Head injuries are the worst. But it should start feeling better in a few days, so you can just stay home and relax until the pain stops.”

“Ugh, I wish. I still have to go to school tomorrow.”

“Dude, that sucks. If you can stay home sick, then don’t force yourself to go. Concussions are no joke.”

Signal hums again, then mumbles, “I can’t think of an excuse. Cause the concussion is from being hit on patrol so like. I can’t say that! I have to figure out a reason for my civilian identity to have a concussion.”

“Can I suggest something?”

“Please, I’ll take anything at this point, man. My brain is done for.”

“Make up an embarrassing story. You have to make yourself look silly and people will believe you more and not ask follow up questions because you’re too embarrassed to say more.”

“...Keep talking. This sounds viable. The only advice I got was to basically fake my death or get into a car accident to get more injured.”

“I think you need to fight whoever said that,” Danny says, “That is horrible advice.”

“I know!” Signal laughs. “Oh I shouldn’t have laughed, my head is hurting more.”

Danny lets out a slow breath, tilting his head back to look up at the ceiling of his bedroom. If he strains his hearing, he can make out the rustle of fabric from Signal’s end of the call as well as the murmur of his parent’s voices downstairs. He closes his eyes and focuses on the call, pushing away the heavy weight of regret on his chest that hits him each time he thinks about his parents.

Now is not the time for that. Signal needs calm and quiet, so Danny is going to give that to him and then let him go to rest.

“Are you drinking enough water? Getting some comfort food?”

“Yeah, I’m being taken care of. Don’t worry Danny, I got a whole crew of dysfunctional caretakers.”

“Good. I’ll let you get back to resting, then.”

“I’m still so sorry I had to cancel. I was looking forward to seeing you again.”

Warmth rises to his cheeks and Danny rubs a hand against them, trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach that came to life at those words. “We can always do a different day. Let me know when you feel better, okay?”

“Yeah, alright. Thanks, Danny.”

“I hope you feel better soon, Signal. I missed you too.”

There’s a pause where Danny’s heart pounds hard against his chest, as though trying to escape his ribcage. He bites his tongue, wondering it that was too much, if he made things weird, if Signal didn’t feel the same way.

And then Signal says with a soft voice, “I can’t wait to see you again. You’re too sweet to me.”

“Okay!” Danny squeaks, cheeks aflame, “Go sleep, Signal! I’ll talk to you once you can look at a screen again.”

“Alright. Thanks, Danny.”

“Of course, dude. Bye.”

Signal makes a soft mumble that could be ‘bye’ but it’s hard to tell with Signal’s voice going all rough and low, exhausting in every sound, and then the call is ending.

Danny drops the phone onto his desk and draws his knees up to hold them against his chest. He rests his chin on them, filled with longing for Gotham.

Not just for the Signal, though that’s a big part of it. But for the anonymity of a big city in a dimension where he doesn’t exist. A place where he can be himself, just Danny instead of being torn between his parent’s son and Phantom. Plus, Gotham has heroes! Not other ghosts, not ghost hunters, but people with superpowers who help people whenever they can.

It would be nice to be someplace like Gotham where he wouldn’t have to carry the responsibility of protecting an entire city on his shoulders. It would be nice to have friends who understand why he can’t not give his all to protect people, regardless of how they feel for him, friends who make the same choice, friends who aren’t weighed down by guilt with their part in his death.

As much as he loves Sam and Tucker, he knows that will be something that haunts them for the rest of their lives.

It’s better now that it had been in freshman year, but it’s still something that changed them all. He’ll always love them, and he knows they love him, but they need to spend some time apart.

In Amity Park, they’re the outsiders who are too weird for the rest of the school, outcasts who stick together, a tightly knit group full of secrets. They’ve been each others only friends for the longest time; sometimes, others come in and out of their lives, like Valerie, but the bond he has with Sam and Tucker can’t be replicated.

They need to be with new people to grow any more. He can see how they’re holding each other back.

They’ll always find a way to be together, but they have to be apart first.

Gotham will be good for that.

Hell, any place in that dimension would be good!

Danny just wants to be more than he is, wants to be better and he can’t do that here or with his friends.

And he certainly can’t do that with his parents.

After telling them about everything’s he’s done as Phantom, all the times he’s ruined their inventions or fought with the GIW or endangered people through his fights with other ghosts, his parents just stared at him. They were seated around the kitchen table, Jazz standing behind Danny with a comforting hand on his shoulder, as his parents just… stared.

There were no accusations of possession, no weapons drawn, no demands for an explanation. Just a haunted look in his parents eyes as they went silent, still, horrified.

“Danny,” his mom had whispered, “You mean you’re—”

“I’m Phantom, yeah. The ghost menace,” he had answered.

“You’re dead,” she finished as if he hadn’t spoken. “You died and we didn’t… we never noticed. What— How—”

The thing about being Phantom is that Danny knows he died. He knows he came back changed. But he doesn’t like thinking about it, still wakes up from nightmares of electricity racing through his body, frying him from inside out as it stops and restarts his heart in an endless painful pattern. Yes he died, but he got powers out of it! He got to meet other ghosts, explore the Infinite Realms, do so many cool things no one else is able to do…

But he still died. Half of him is still dead. He’s never going to be the kid he once was.

“It was an accident,” he had whispered, “With the portal. The on button is inside it, and when I went in for some stupid picture, I tripped and hit it.”

“And we only cared about the portal working,” his dad had said, grief coloring every line in his face. “We didn’t even look at you. We just went straight for the portal. We were so happy to be right that we didn’t stop to think about what it meant, how it could have happened…”

The tears he saw well up in his parents eyes made his heart twist uncomfortably in his chest. For several long minutes, silence settled around them as his parents closed either eyes are stared down at the table, refusing to look at him. Jazz had squeezed his shoulder, then pulled him up out of his seat.

“Danny, go upstairs. Or to Tucker’s place. I need to have my own talk with them,” she had said. There was a steel in her gaze that told Danny there was no use in arguing, so he walked out the front door and transformed so he could fly out into the woods where he could be alone, watching the sky change colors as the sun set.

It’s been two weeks since then. His parents still can’t look at him for too long. They can’t look him in the eyes at all.

He wonders if he would have preferred them trying to kill him. At least then they would acknowledge that he’s still here instead of moving around him as if he’s a memory haunting the halls of their home, one they’re too guilty to face just yet.

He misses his dad’s loud voice and enthusiasm. He misses his mom’s quick wit and quicker reflexes. He misses the chaos of each meal they would have together and how his parents would drag him and Jazz along on random, sudden trips for the sake of science.

He misses his parents.

Danny hates that the family he loves died with him in that portal.

As much as he still loves them, being in the house, and in Amity Park in general, is suffocating. The farther he can get from them the better; Danny isn’t sure he’d react well if he stayed in this universe and woke up one day with his parents decided to break into his new home because they finally feel up to having a conversation with him.

Maybe he’d talk to Signal about what living in Gotham is like. That might help him make a decision on what to do with himself once he graduates from Casper High School.

He’ll save it for the next time they meet.

Some things are better done in person, after all. And it wouldn’t hurt for Danny to use it as an excuse to make sure he’s fine.

But for now, he’ll wait until the days pass and keep daydreaming about better things.

Signal: hey man, u doing okay? i haven’t heard from u in a while

Danny: yeah im good! i was waiting for u to text first bc i didnt know how long you’d need to recover from a concussion

Signal: ive been good for a while, dude. dw abt waiting to text me, just send me something and i’ll reply once i can!!

Danny: i’ll keep that in mind for the next time u get injured 👍

Signal: but fr are u good? tell me to back off if u need but u seem kinda down

Danny: im fine!!! just dealing w the crushing weight of existence, that’s all 🫠

Signal: oh mood. anything i can do to make things better for u?

Danny: nah it’s fine, im just like this sometimes. i promise it’ll pass

Signal: want a distraction?

Danny: please

Signal: so i was just swinging thru the streets as i do and this group called me down while theyre having a huge argument

Signal: so i go bc i dont want things escalating yknow?

Signal: and idk the context of this argument AT ALL but one of them turns to me

Signal: looks me dead in the eyes

Signal: and says ‘penis enhancement pills are NOT a thing, right?’

Danny: SKDFJALSDJ NO WAY

Signal: oh man. this isnt even the best part of this story

Danny: there’s MORE?????

Signal: its gotham, danny, there’s always more lmao

Signal: so anyways……..

Danny: i hope you know that story has been haunting me all week

Danny: dash was being a dick again and i was half asleep so i told him ‘maybe u’d be less of a dick if u stop taking penis enhancing pills’

Signal: THATS GOLD

Signal: my job here is done. nothing will ever top that. i’ll see myself out ✌️

Danny: he looked so shocked lmaooo

Danny: tried to say he DOESNT take any pills but it was too late

Danny: he was too flustered by it no one believed him

Danny: top 10 things to say to ur former bully

Signal: i didnt know he bullied u. good for u! get his ass!

Danny: he’s fine now lol just annoying. we all grew out of the super cliche high school phase after freshman year when we had to work together to fend off ghosts and the government

Signal: nothing like a little anarchy to bring people together

Signal: its why im still good friends w the people who were in a gang i joined when i was younger to be like. street kid vigilantes bc gotham was going bad back then

Danny: everything u say about gotham and ur life is so fascinating literally how are u real?? ure the perfect ya novel protagonist

Signal: thats the sweetest thing anyones ever said to me ❣️

Signal: but also lol. lmao. gotham really is just like that. no one is immune

Signal: u also sound like a ya protag jsyk.

Danny: literally how im so boring??

Signal: danny. babe. im gonna have to bring out the capital letters for this bc i get the feeling that u really believe that

Danny: oh boy

Signal: Listen. You live in a small town that’s Haunted, fight ghosts, have powers, went from being bullied to being chill with your bully, and can travel the multiverse. You are a YA Protagonist.

Danny: damn i can’t argue with that :/

Danny: why’d i have to be the ghost hunter’s ghost son. i wanna be a side character. give me a refund on this life pls

Signal: do i dare ask clarification on the ghost thing?

Danny: uuuh no? its kinda personal and im dealing w it but its also kinda like ur civilian id?

Danny: its something i’ll share once we’re closer and i know u better and can trust u with it

Signal: totally fair. want me to pretend that part of the conversation never happened?

Danny: please

Signal: cool. watch this

Signal changed Danny’s name to YA protag (real)

YA protag (real): ooooh my god

YA protag (real): im not taking this lying down

YA protag (real) changed Signal’s name to YA menace

YA protag (real) changed their name to YA protag (retired)

YA menace: lmao

YA menace: does this mean… ure my senior…. my knowledgeable mentor… my senpai 🥺

YA protag (retired): i will throw us both into a black hole dont even try me 🔪

YA menace: LMAO

YA menace: fair. just saying that dealt me so much psychological damage

YA protag (retired): deserved

YA protag (retired): can we attempt Danny Visits Gotham: 2! Electric Boo-galoo?

YA menace: yeah!!!! im free this weekend if u wanna come by then!!

YA protag (retired): i can do this weekend!!

YA menace: i will do my very best not to get a head injury before then

YA protag (retired): can u maybe aim for no injuries?

YA menace: danny we need to be realistic here

YA menace: my goal is to have no bleeding wounds that need stitches. as long as i don’t bleed its not a problem 👍

YA protag (retired): …..

YA menace: no need for the judgment i have everything under control

YA protag (retired): …………

YA protag (retired): :/

YA menace: lmk when ure gonna be in gotham! i’ll make sure to be outside waiting for u

YA protag (retired): i’ll be another hour but i’ll send a msg before i head out!!

YA protag (retired): actually it might be a bit longer i gotta fight some people who are trying to cheer me up

YA menace: should i be concerned

YA protag (retired): nah its fine they’re just annoying

YA menace: if u need to reschedule

YA protag (retired): noooo!!!! i’ll be in gotham soon i swear!!!!

YA menace: ok!! ok!!!! i will keep waiting for you then 🫡

Duke waits for an hour and a half, swinging through streets and waving to people, before Danny texts him to let him know that he’s next to the botanical gardens.

One moment, Duke is perched on the roof of a Mexican restaurant in the Bowery. The next, he’s halfway across Gotham, swinging recklessly from building to building.

So what if he’s excited to see Danny again! That’s normal!

Anyone would do the same in his position.

Plus, Duke still feels so bad about having to cancel last time due to his concussion. The sooner he gets to Danny, the sooner he can start making up for it. He didn’t spend the last few patrols being extra careful for nothing; he only has a few bruise and no bleeding at all!

Danny’s star glow helps Duke find him behind the botanical gardens, hidden away from the rest of the street.

He drops down from the roof, using the shadows to soften the impact of landing.

When he looks at Danny, leaning against the building, he’s greeted with a bright smile.

“Signal!” he says, pushing off the wall to close the distance between them. “I hope I didn’t make you wait too long or anything.”

“Nah, you’re good. You alright?”

“Oh, yeah, of course! It was just some friendly fighting, and they wouldn’t be able to really hurt me even if they tried. I’m all good! So, what’s the plan for today?”

Duke looks him over just in case, but Danny does appear to be perfectly fine. Not a single bruise on him. Maybe it was just a few friends roughhousing with him? That might be it, since Sam and Tucker did try to take each other out last time they were in Gotham. So he’s just going to go with what Danny says! He’s fine, and they can move on!

He’s totally going to worry about it later, but right now is not the time for it when Danny’s waiting to spend the day with him.

“Well, I still have to finish patrol, but that’s just for another hour if you wanna join me,” he says. “And then we can head to the Hatch to just… hang out. Or we can find something else to do, totally up to you.”

“The Hatch?” Danny repeats, tilting his head to the side curiously. Duke has to take a moment and just appreciate how cute Danny is before he can compose himself enough to answer.

“Yeah, it’s like my… secret base? HQ? The place I go for superhero things that is for me, specifically, and that I don’t have to share with a bunch of other people.”

“You have a secret base?! That’s so awesome! I just have—” Danny falters, his excitement falling, and then he plasters on a pained, fake smile. “I’ve always wanted to see a superhero’s HQ. Are you sure it’s fine to show it to me, though?”

Part of him wants to ask about what he was going to say before switching gears, but the drawn expression on his face is more than enough to make Duke back off. “Yeah, man, don’t even worry about it. Besides, it’s not like there’s any other places we can go to without me revealing my identity, you know?”

“Fair enough,” Danny nods. “But maybe one day we can?”

“For sure,” Duke says. “Come on, up for a quick patrol around Gotham?”

“Oh, definitely.” The light returns to Danny’s eyes as he lifts off the ground, floating. The smile on his face is more sincere, and the sight of it makes the knot of worry in Duke’s heart pull loose. He pulls his grapple out and aims for the highest ledge of Poison Ivy’s greenhouse, tucked in the back of the botanical gardens, then takes off.

Danny is flying next to him immediately, a blur of invisibility, and they fall into a rhythm quickly as they head towards the Bowery. As Duke free runs and swings between buildings, Danny flies around him, the occasional laugh slipping past his lips as he circles around Duke.

It’s hard not to have his attention stolen by Danny, but Duke is here to protect the people of Gotham, so he focuses 90% of his attention to the streets, keeping an eye and ear out for any trouble.

There’s not much happening today, thankfully. He’s only had to stop a few burglaries, a bank robbery, and chase off a stalker before Danny arrived. Truthfully, the peace is making him nervous; there hasn’t been a big attack to the city in a while, with no word on the movement of rogues and nothing big brewing among the gangs and mobs. Peace rarely lasts so long in Gotham, and Duke is genuinely worried the next thing will be some continent destroying, apocalypse bringing disaster.

In the last hour of his patrol, he only has to stop a purse-snatcher and help someone move their broken down car off the street and into a parking lot. Danny stays in the air for both, invisible to everyone but him, and the blur of his aura floats around the areas Duke stops at curiously.

They hit up touristy places last time he was in Gotham, and food trucks before that. Maybe next time Duke can get takeout from a nice restaurant and they can have a rooftop picnic.

Not quite a date, not yet at least, but something close to it. A testing of the waters. An unspoken promise for something more.

With the hour ends, Duke comes to stop on the roof of a tattoo parlor and gestures for Danny to join him.

The blur of invisibility fades away and Danny’s features come back into focus as he lowers himself down to the roof.

“What’s up?” Danny asks, glancing around them curiously.

“It’s about time for patrol to end, so we can head to the Hatch now. But I do need to blindfold you so you don’t see where the Hatch is located.”

“Oh! Yeah, that’s fine. Will I just have to hold onto you or something? Since I won’t be able to see where we’re going.”

“I was thinking I’d just carry you. It’s easier that way.”

“Sure, that works!” Danny closes his eyes, cheeks already darkening with a blush. “I’ll just… let you blindfold me now?”

Duke desperately wants to smoosh Danny’s cheeks together in his hands, but valiantly resists the urge. He’s on a mission! To hang out with Danny! He can cry about how cute Danny is later!

He walks up to Danny on silent feet, circling around him. Then he lifts his hands, picturing the light solidifying in his palms, turning to fabric that darkens and obscures, bending the light to be darker and darker until it’s nearly black. He gently pulls it across Danny’s eyes, leaning in closer to him to make sure he’s not putting it on too tightly.

Danny gasps slightly when his back bumps into Duke’s chest, and Duke can’t help the way his eyes dart down to Danny’s mouth, his red cheeks, the long line of his neck.

Focus, he tells himself sternly, and draws the ends of his makeshift blindfold back to tie the ends together behind Danny’s head.

“There,” he says in a low voice. “All done.”

Danny doesn’t answer. He just leans back against Duke, pressing them together slightly, and Duke brings his hands down to Danny’s hips to hold his steady.

“Ready to go?”

“Ready,” Danny answers in a faint voice. “How do you want me?”

Now that’s a dangerous question to ask right then and there. Duke bites back a number of flirtatious, suggestive answers, and makes himself actually think about the best way he can carry Danny while grappling to the Hatch. He’ll need one hand free to grapple, but also needs to keep a secure grip on Danny…

He steps to the side and guides one of Danny’s arms up to wrap around his shoulders. Then he picks Danny up, leaving him to wrap his legs around his waist as he walks over to the edge of the roof and looks towards the area in Gotham where the Hatch is hidden. Duke takes a moment to adjust his arm to keep Danny secure against his chest, then takes hold of his grapple with his free hand.

“Ready?” he checks, tightening his hold on Danny’s waist.

Danny nods against his neck, tucking his face in the crook of Duke’s shoulder. “Ready!”

Duke grins and jumps off the building, shooting out his grapple as they begin to fall. Danny yelps lightly, then clings to Duke even harder, his blindfold still secure around his head. It’s become a bit fainter as Duke’s attention slipped off of it, but he focuses on it again to darken it and keep Danny from seeing where they’re going.

It occurs to him halfway to the Hatch how much trust Danny is putting in him. To put a blindfold on him. To lead him to a place he’s never been to before. To let Duke swing him across the streets of Gotham without using his own ability to fly.

Oracle’s apprehension about Danny (and his friends) is a heavy weight on his mind, but he can’t help but think it’s unnecessary. She’d understand if she ever met Danny in person. He wears his heart on his sleeve and offers it so freely; how could Duke not trust him?

The weeks they’ve been texting each other only make him sure that Danny’s a good person, someone he wants in his life for as long as he can stay, someone he wants to be honest with. They just click, somehow, like they’re each holding a puzzle piece that’s been missing in each other’s lives.

I think I’ve been waiting my whole life to meet you, he wants to say. But the street entrance to the Hatch is just a block away and Danny still doesn’t know his name, so Duke bites his tongue and forces all those feelings back into more platonic territory.

Just as the reach the building with the hidden panel to allow him entrance to the Hatch, Duke pulls at the light around them to hide them from sight as they drop down from the sky.

“Almost in,” he says, holding Danny up with one arm as he tucks his grapple away and push the fake brick cover out of the way to punch in his twelve digit access code.

A hidden door in the wall of the building, the back bricked off from the operating portion courtesy of Wayne Industries funding the restoration project for this area of the city after a major alien attack, opens up smoothly and without a sound. The ground slopes downward at a steep angle; he uses this door for when he’s riding his motorcycle out of the cave networks underneath the city that keep the Hatch connected to the Batcave, but it’s not too far from where the Hatch itself is.

He carries Danny in, then makes sure the door closes completely behind him before setting Danny down on his feet. “We’ve still got a bit of a walk to the Hatch, but you can take your blindfold off now.”

“I’ll wait until we get there,” Danny says. “I’m going to use this as an excuse to cling to you for as long as I can.”

“Fair enough!” Duke laughs, “Cling away, I’ll make sure you don’t trip.”

And cling away Danny does, wrapping his arms around Duke’s left arm, holding onto it as they make their way down the tunnel. Duke keeps an eye out for anything that might trip him and carefully steers him past them.

“Are we underground?”

“Yeah, there’s this huge cave system under the city that we use to get around,” Duke answers. “Though we’ve paved in small roads and made stable tunnels to go through, so it’s all safe.”

“Huh, that’s cool. It would be nice if I had a way to get around Amity like this.”

“Danny, you can fly.”

“That’s not relevant!”

“How is it not relevant?” Duke laughs incredulously, jostling Danny slightly. Danny turns towards him and they trip over each other slightly, clutching to each other to keep their balance.

“It just isn’t!”

They bicker lightheartedly down the tunnel until it opens up into the garage of the Hatch. Duke helps Danny up the stairs to the main area, where he keeps his suit, weapons, and the large computer Bruce installed when the Hatch was first made. Once he’s sure Danny’s comfortable, he leaves to change into his civilian clothes with only a domino mask slapped over his eyes to protect his identity.

And if Duke takes an extra minute to fix up his hair, the long locs in a disarray from being tied back and stuffed into his helmet, then that’s no one’s business but his own.

Maybe he does need to get a hair cut. He’s starting to get why Steph wants to shave her head and rock a pixie cut like Selena. But, on the other hand, he does like how he looks with longer hair, especially when it’s tied up…

Long hair for now. It makes him look good and he’s here to impress Danny.

When he heads back to where Danny is, he sees Danny sitting down patiently, his blindfold still on, though it’s become much more transparent than it was before. He can see how Danny’s eyes are closed beneath it, waiting for Duke to return, tapping out a slow rhythm on his knee with his fingers.

“You can take that off now,” he says as he walks up to Danny.

“You sure?”

“If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t have brought you in here.”

Danny reaches up and gently pulls the blindfold off, slowly blinking his eyes open. He watches as the blindfold dissolves in his hand, becoming light again, then shyly turns to look at Duke.

“Oh,” he says softly, taking in Duke, who tries very hard not to fidget and reveal just how nervous he is to be out of his Signal armor before Danny. “You are so unfair?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You can’t be kind, a superhero, and attractive! Tell me something you’re bad at so I know you have some flaws.”

Duke grins, flattered. “You think I’m attractive?”

“Stop fishing for compliments!” Danny pushes him lightly, barely enough force to make him tilt to the side. “Give me something you’re bad at, come on.”

“Well, if you really need to know…” Duke takes a moment to think of something that won’t completely embarrass him. “I’m terrible at learning other languages. Vocab doesn’t stick in my head, grammar rules mean nothing to me, and my accent is atrocious.”

“That doesn’t count, that’s normal,” Danny argues.

“It the only thing I can think of right now! I’m just really bad at non-English languages!”

Danny rolls his eyes, shaking his head fondly. “I can’t believe you. You have powers, you’re cute, and you’re good at flirting. Stop winning at life so much, the rest of us stand no chance against you.”

“I promise I’m a disaster when I’m not trying to impress people.”

“Lies. You’re being perfect right now and there’s no one to impress.”

“I’m trying to impress you.”

Danny blinks. “Oh.” He bites his lip in an attempt to force down a smile. “Shut up. I don’t count. You don’t need to try to impress me, you’ve already done that.”

“Yeah? Well, maybe I’ll try to be more of a mess around you from now on.”

“Please do, I can’t be the only one making a fool of myself. Where’s the friendship? The solidarity? Suffer with me!”

Duke shoves him back playfully, and just like that, they fall back into a rhythm of easy conversation and light touches, skirting the lines of friendly with something more. Time slips away from him and Duke spends every second with Danny wishing he could have this always, that they didn’t have a time limit over their heads, that the universe itself wasn’t keeping them apart. He shows off the Hatch and some Bat gadgets, which Danny finds fascinating, then they spend an hour comparing their most commonly used powers.

Danny has to leave all too soon, opening up a small portal of swirling green with the help of a small pocketwatch-like device, and Duke can only hope that they can do this again soon, but without the domino on his face.

One day, he swears. One day they’ll have that.

YA menace: hey quickly rate this guys fit

YA menace: [attached photo is a goon with a black and white striped shirt with a purple question mark safety pinned onto it. They’re also wearing neon purple sweatpants and are glaring at the camera.]

YA protag (retired): ngl thats not the worst ive seen. 6/10

YA menace: 6???

YA menace: 6?????????????

YA menace: danny i say this with all the love in my heart, go get ur eyes checked

YA protag (retired): before u say anything else. look at what i regularly have to deal with

YA protag (retired): [attached photo is a floating man with blue-ish skin an d a very dramatic hairstyle. He’s wearing a long black cloak, a white suit, and a Green Bay Packer’s football jersey on top of all that.]

YA menace: damn. no wonder ur judgement of bad fits is Like That. this guys to blame

YA protag (retired): wanna know the worst part?

YA menace: this can get worse??

YA protag (retired): thats my godfather.

YA protag (retired): this is a man my parents thought were fit to be responsible for me and my sister if anything happens to us

YA protag (retired): THIS GUY

YA menace: u have my sincerest condolences

YA menace: oh shit more riddler guys are here i gtg they got guns

YA protag (retired): be safe!! please dont get shot!!!!

YA menace: i’ll do my best 🫡

YA protag (retired): came home today and all the weapons that were attached to my house disappeared

YA protag (retired): i feel like im in the twilight zone

YA protag (retired): if i start talking backwards or acting like a robot pls know it is not me but something wearing my face

YA menace: the weapons attached to ur house????

YA menace: im starting there but i want u to know that everything u said was concerning

YA protag (retired): have i not mentioned it before? my parents are kinda mad scientists and make a lot of weird but working things. mostly weapons to fight ghosts.

YA menace: cant believe ure only just dropping lore abt urself when we’ve been talking for so long

YA protag (retired): in my defense!!!! everyone here knows abt them so im used to not having to say anything!!!

YA protag (retired): people usually just Get It!!!

YA menace: moving on to my second point: having the weapons removed from ur house is whats concerning??? not the weapons being attached to ur house???

YA protag (retired): listen. i have spent p much my entire life with a house that doubles as an armed fortress. when i was a kid i was convinced it would come to life and protect me from monsters. this was also during my urban legends monster phrase and i scared myself reading abt them and needed the comfort

YA protag (retired): my POINT is that its normal for my house to have weapons. so seeing them gone is worrying!!!!!

YA menace: .

YA menace: ok fair enough. last point: is being replaced by a robot version of urself a concern in ur universe? bc it is here

YA protag (retired): no its not a legit concern here

YA protag (retired): probably. dont quote me on that. i had a cloning situation a few years ago

YA menace: a hwat

YA protag (retired): dont worry about it!!!

YA protag (retired): oh my parents are home. i need to talk to them. Bye!!

YA menace: gl!! let me know if u need rescuing from evil clone robots

RED: before I say anything else, Signal this is the price u pay for not letting me play with interdimensional tech after you let O have a turn at it.

YA protag (retired): um.

YA protag (retired): wrong chat???

RED: no this is the right chat. Hi Danny :)

YA protag (retired): hi???? who are u????

YA menace: oh my god

YA menace: this is NOT NECESSARY RED

RED: as I said. U did this to urself.

YA menace: 🙄🙄🙄

YA protag (retired): wait. did u… hack into this chat?? did u hack the phone????

RED: yeah lol.

RED: was a bit of a challenge but it was fun

RED: had to pull out the spare alien tech to make something that would connect

YA protag (retired): ok 1. tucker will want to marry u for ur brain

YA protag (retired): 2. ALIEN TECH?????

YA menace: i feel like we already talked abt aliens being real in my dimension

YA protag (retired): THATS DIFFERENT FROM HAVNG ALIEN TECH

YA protag (retired): hey red what do u accept as bribes

YA menace: u ask him while im right here????

YA protag (retired): u dont have the alien tech. red does. case closed.

RED: oh wow. Signal….. Wow.

YA menace: what? shut up. cant leave any of yall unsupervised i swear

RED: also, Danny I accept tech from different dimensions and also fun tasting sodas and energy drinks

YA protag (retired): done. i will have the goods ready next time i go to gotham, pls hook me up w alien teach

RED: do u just like new tech?

YA menace: hes a space nerd so he loves aliens

RED: do u just wanna meet an alien then?

YA protag (retired): CAN I??!!

RED: yeah I can pull something together for u

YA menace: omfg. Red can u go stop stealing danny from me

RED: up ur game Signal. We’re ALL going to try to steal Danny away

YA menace: how tf do i kick u out of the chat

RED: u cant 😇 im too good to be kicked

YA menace: put that halo away we all know what u really are

YA menace: 🤡

YA protag (retired): omg….. rip red ur cool reputation will be missed

RED: hey now. What happened to the bribes :(

YA protag (retired): ur still gonna get them but i am playing favorites

YA protag (retired): and signal is obviously my fave

YA menace: knew i could count on u to have my back danny 💛

YA menace: drop ur location red i just wanna talk

RED: lol no

RED: good luck catching me :)

YA menace: coward!!!!

YA protag (retired): there he goes…..

YA protag (retired): hey u know what i just realized?

YA menace: what?

YA protag (real) changed YA menace’s name to Light

YA protag (real) changed their name to Night

Night: rhyming buddies 😄

Light: i get the light bc of my powers but wheres the night coming from?

Night: bc i love space! the night sky!!

Light: ok thats pretty cute ngl

Light: give me some warning bc u do stuff like that its bad for my heart

Night: stop sweet talking me im busy feeling clever

Light: lmaooooo

Light: fair enough i’ll get back to it in 3-5 business days

Night: good 👍

Night: also is now a good time to ask abt red…. who was that….

Light: that was a nerd. dont worry abt him ok im cooler

Light: serious answer: hes red robin and hes another vigilante in gotham. we’re chill

Night: did u find his location for a throw down tho

Light: i can do u one better: i know where he lives

Night: oh???

Light: yeah his dad is my mentor of sorts so its not THAT impressive that i know

Light: i did steal all his zesti tho lol

Night: not sure what that is but im proud of u

Light: its just a drink that hes obsessed w. i love being a minor annoyance 😇

Night: shaking ur hand. its really the best thing to be

Light: hell yeah!!!

Light: hey got a kinda serious question for u

Night: whats up?

Light: have u thought abt ur future?

Light: like what u want to do in college, where u want to go after high school, what career u want

Night: i mean. some.

Night: not as much as my parents want me to.

Night: my sister goes to harvard and is super smart. im not that impressive so i keep disappointing them

Night: and with things recently… idk its hard. it kinda feels like they dont believe i have a future.

Night: not that they really see me in the present anyways

Night: sorry that was heavy. short answer is no! not really!

Light: that sounds rough. wanna talk abt it?

Night: not really but not talking hasnt done me much good

Night: my sister would want me to talk anyways. to someone trustworthy at least

Night: so if u dont mind listening…

Light: go for it!! im here for u danny

Light: emotionally at least. not physically but thats not by choice

Night: it can wait tho honestly. whyd u ask abt the future? something on ur mind?

Light: just feeling really lost rn is all.

Light: its like everyone around me has an idea of what to do with their lives while im still surprised that i made it as far as i have

Light: this is really the first time ive seriously thought abt my future and i have no idea what to do

Light: so i wanted to talk to u bc u help make things feel less terrifying

Night: signal…. ur going to make me cry

Night: u make me feel brave too

Night: ♥️

Night: i get what u mean 100% btw. u go so long sure that u dont have a future that u dont know what to do now that its here

Light: exactly.

Light: what am i supposed to do with my life? i dont want to be a hero full time, ive seen how that breaks people

Night: do u want to go to college? or do u just feel like u have to bc everyone else is?

Light: i do want to.

Light: my parents both went and theyve always wanted me to get a degree and be successful

Light: they may not be around anymore, not really, but i do still want to make them proud

Light: they cant see me graduate, but maybe when i tell them the next time i visit, itll reach the part of them thats still alive in their minds

Light: what about u? do u want to go to college?

Night: yeah. it was always my dream to become an astronaut. work at nasa and everything

Night: no chance its ever gonna happen now tho lol

Night: dying and the health problems that comes w that will do that to ya ✌️

Light: oh man that sucks

Night: yeah

Night: i might still study aerospace engineering tho. even if i cant be an astronaut, maybe i can help others get there

Light: thats a good alternative!! im glad u still have some idea of what u can do that can help u work at nasa and achieve part of ur dream

Night: we’ll see tho

Night: im not really feeling college atm. or life in general

Night: idk i feel…. stuck. like nothing will change even if i get out of illinois. it’ll just be the same stuff at a different place

Night: and i know itll take one visit from my parents to start ruining things for me

Night: i just… dont really wanna deal w that. ive kinda given up on life tbh i might as well just focus on the ghostly side of things. stay in the ghost zone more permanently

Light: i dont wanna judge or anything but that doesnt sound healthy??

Light: pls dont disappear into the ghost zone. i’d miss u.

Night: sweet talker

Night: i wont. dont worry. its just a feeling i get sometimes, that it’d be better if i wasnt in this world. if i could just go somewhere else

Light: hey. what if

Light: sorry if this idea is stupid or something

Light: but what if u lived here? in my dimension? u could establish a life and go to college here.

Light: a total fresh start

Night: thats. not a bad idea actually

Night: i would love that. wouldn’t it be hard to do tho? i dont exist there.

Light: we can make it work. its not like us gotham vigilantes are new to creating new identities/lives out of nothing

Light: i could ask for a few favors, do a few dubiously legal things. you could live here

Night: im planning to take a gap year to figure out if i wanna stay in the human world at all. i could spend that year in gotham before making my choice

Night: if u dont mind me asking this huge favor of u

Light: i dont mind at all!!

Light: danny i would love for u to be here are u kidding me. i’d do anything so we could be closer together

Night: thanks signal ♥️

Night: i made this all abt me im so sorry

Night: wanna talk more abt how ur feeling or ur plans for the future?

Light: maybe some other time. i wanna get to work on making sure u can live here for the year (and more! hopefully!)

Light: tell u what.

Light: we can talk more abt this the next time we see each other in person ok?

Night: deal

Night: im really glad i met u

Light: me too

Light: im here for u for as long as u want me around, honey

Light: u dont need to worry about a thing with me

Night: ure too sweet.

Night: im going to go now before u make me melt into a puddle of feelings

Night: ♥️

Light: ♥️

“Hey Babs, I have a favor to ask…”

#ghostlights #duke thomas/danny fenton #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #my writing #dc x dp fic #now to all my other wips! and then the next fic in the series!!#i did make the series on ao3 btw if u wanna subscribe to it #v excited to get into it. i have MUCH to say abt the fenton family and duke's indecision abt his future and duke and dannys relationship!!!

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