#it's been almost five months and i don't think it'll ever stop
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it's so funny that insects are my second lowest because like
this would explain why my nahuatl tour guide in mexico looked like he was going to tear up with pride and asked me "really?" like twice when i said i really enjoyed my meal of insects at this restaurant that served traditional cuisine
but like, god it was so good i still think about it! and it was so filling, and i felt so nourished and healthy afterward like, god the micronutrients. my belly was so full and i felt amazing
#i still sometimes think about the fried crunchy grubs and crave them#it's been almost five months and i don't think it'll ever stop#🤣#vegetables being my highest is essentially completely a texture thing#and fruits#FUCK mealy apples FUCK bendy cucumbers they disgust me in a taste and texture way not in a safety way#like i feel grossed out the way i feel when my sock gets wet with cold water#not the way i feel when i see mold on my berries#p#food#insects
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Part Five
Can't stop thinking about the attempt of reconciliation and reader ain't having it. Our girl is going to be wilddddd y'all. Also goodnight. See y'all tomorrow (maybe)
You call Meredith when you get home.
You. Are. Fuming. She's not sure she can ever remember a time you using so many swear words at one time.
How fucking dare them? Immature? You're the immature one? You were the one trying your best to salvage four failing relationship meanwhile none of those assholes could be bothered to try and keep one. They had one person to manage: you.
"I wanna go out this weekend." "Wear something tight and borderline risk indecent exposure."
"You know what I always say," Meredith begins. "The best way to get over someone-"
"is to get under someone else." You finish. You weren't exactly keen on the idea of bringing someone to your bed just yet, but a little attention would do you some good. "I don't want to fuck someone just yet." You admitted. "I'm more on the getting drunk and making out."
"I didn't know we resorted back secondary school heavy petting?" She teased.
"University, Dear." You corrected. "I didn't peak until after I graduated."
"No." She argued. "You didn't put your books down long enough to realize that boys actually wanted to fuck you." You were glad she couldn't see you roll your eyes. "Saturday work for you? I have a late night Friday and won't be up for it."
"That works."
"Sorry." She apologized. "I plan on getting you absolutely smashed so I need to be ready to play the nanny. I know how you love to get drunk and run off."
It was true. You had always found it hilarious when you were drunk to just run. Quite literally run away. It got to a point during university where Meredith would handcuff you to her so you didn't stray.
"I won't run." Your sober mind promised.
"Uh huh." Meredith's tone told you that she knew that was a load of shit. "I'll text Tabs. Let her know the plan."
The next day at the shop was pretty uneventful. No more unexpected visitors. You still had them all blocked. Not caring if now they decided to offer up some bullshit apology.
Months. This had been a steady decline for six months. A text or a simply sorry won't fix this. You weren't sure anything could.
But it didn't matter. You were done and they obviously were too.
You had picked up enough take out to feed a family, but you didn't plan on making your lunch before work or cooking when you got home. The rest of the week you planned on just going through the motions until you could go out Saturday and hopefully get everything out.
You weren't paying attention as you walked down the hallway to your flat. Fishing in your purse for keys. You were at almost at your door when you saw him.
Sitting next to your door was a familiar face. A face you felt you haven't seen in forever.
“What are you doing here, Kyle?" Your voice was flat as you continued to blindly try and find your keys with one hand. Fuck. You really need to clean out your purse...
“My key wouldn’t work.” He explained. "So I’m out here.”
"I'm aware why you're not in my apartment since I changed the locks," you said, trying to keep your irritation at bay. "What I am asking is why did you come here?"
"You won't return any of our messages."
"You're all blocked, so technically I didn't really get any messages." "Besides, you don't get to complain to me about not responding to texts, Kyle Garrick." Your fingers finally wraps around them. God bless. "If you're here for your things, it'll have to wait. I have to sort through everyone's shit and I don't know whose is whose."
"We need to talk." He explains as you put the key into the lock, opening the door.
"Nah," you say scrunching your nose in that way he used to adore. "I'm good. But you can swing by tomorrow and pick up your things if you'd like." You say before trying to shut the door on him. You were stupid in thinking you could be faster than him.
Dammit.
"I know things haven't been good and I've definitely could have been better,'' he admits. "But can you at least try and let us apologize? Let us try and work it out."
"No." You answered, trying to close the door. Not caring if you had to resort to kicking his shins to get him out.
"Why not?" He countered.
“Maybe because I've already tried, Kyle?” You gave up on trying to shut him out. You were strong, but he didn't have any issues in besting you. “Because I actually tried with you. With all of you. You didn’t need to come here giving me excuses about your life being hectic because I’ve made the excuses for you.” You didn't miss how he practically flinched. He had always blamed his busy life. Family. Work. You stopped caring about whatever excuse he gave you and realized it was just that. An excuse. “I’ve been telling myself for months that everything you guys didn’t do for me wasn’t because you didn’t care about me. It was because of the stress of your deployments is the reason none of you tell me when you get back from until it’s time to fuck. I tell myself it’s because of the fucked up situation of me being with all of you that makes it awkward to meet your families. Families you all have that I now know I’m not worthy of meeting.” He wanted to correct you. You were. You were worthy. He was an idiot. “It’s not that I need your excuses to make me feel like what you did was justified. No matter what it was, it was apparently to you because you did it.”
He took a step back, processing everything you had said. He had been selfish. You were the reliable constant in his life. Someone he believed he never disappointed. Someone he couldn't disappoint no matter how many times he fucked up.
You took the opportunity to slam the door. Quickly turning the lock before he had a chance to open it back up.
God...
That felt good.
You had spent that evening collecting their thing in case Kyle did show back up tomorrow. You wouldn't make their lives easier by sorting all their shit and organizing it. Everything. One box. Let them figure it out. You almost had a mind to add a shirt that you knew didn't belong to any of them just to have them argue over it. Or least make them think there was someone else...
You were almost tempted if not for the premise that you wanted them to realize this was their fault. Their fuck up. But now that you were officially all broken up, you were free game.
#captain john price#kyle gaz garrick#simon ghost riley#call of duty#john soap mactavish#angst with a happy ending#angst#grovel#jealousy
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CHERRY BLOSSOMS haitani rindou
sfw, nothing happens
home collection | playlist
part ii / i just want you to take me where your heart is.
Rindou is having trouble falling asleep.
He's got a 10 o'clock with the higher ups first thing in the morning. Rindou vividly remembers asking his direct supervisor, Kimura-san on what the meeting is about as soon as he was notified about it.
He’s thought it through -- there is no reason for them to want to see him personally (he’s sure he’s never given them one), nor does he remember doing anything that might have seem out of line, or perhaps appeared a little too out of place in the company. A meeting of only him with the higher ups? It's scary even for someone like Haitani Rindou to face.
"That's exactly it, Haitani. You've been a bit too out of place lately."
Fuck-
"And by that, I mean, you've been showing off brilliant work."
" . . . Excuse me?"
Kimura-san chuckles and brings a wrinkled hand up to pat his junior's back as they walk side by side together through the long corridor that leads to the break room. Rindou fixes his tie out of habit and holds a sealed envelope tight in his hand -- the paper almost crumpled -- as he brings himself together to listen to his senior's words.
"You've been doing great, Haitani. Awesome performance, extremely satisfying work and you're very punctual. Believe me, I'm glad I chose the right person to nominate for this promotion. I've been watching you ever since you started working here as a clerk, and I have to say, I'm proud of you, boy. You've been working hard every day for . . . How long has it been? Five months? Your dedication is worth congratulating. Keep it up, young man. And don't worry about the meeting, it's all part of the promotion process. You'll be fine."
Though Kimura-san's attempt at comforting him worked that day, it certainly failed miserably today. It's less than 7 hours to when he'll soon be standing in front of a conference room facing the Chief Executive and his subordinates, and he doesn’t know why.
What if it goes bad and it's not the kind of meeting that Kimura-san said it would be? What if they're there to tell me I'm rejected for the promotion? Or even worse, fired and-
Rindou suddenly hears a certain conversation of Ran and himself echoing in his head. The loud yet timid 16 year old Rindou and the childish and arrogant 17 year old Ran, that is.
"Keep up that long face and I'll smack you right square, bro. I've taught you better than this. Stop doubting everything and believe it'll go well instead. Determination pays off, you know."
"Idiot. You think everyone in the world is capable of chasing a girl their first time? Especially someone like me?"
"Why wouldn't they? Why wouldn’t you? Look, I've made sure that she likes you back. Shion even told her about how you'd waited 2 hours for her to get off work jus’ to walk her home the other day. Trust me, shitty brother, she's definitely into you too."
"Shion did what?" "You heard me."
"And about that, of course everyone is capable, because I did it." Ran proudly flashes a hardcopy of him and a girl hugging with a cheeky grin. The older boy never misses a chance at showing off, especially to his younger brother who is absolutely sick of him. Rindou moves closer to get a proper look and immediately recognises her as the girl in Ran’s class he’s been courting for months. They’re high school sweethearts now? Unbelievable.
He scoffs at the older boy, "you really did it, huh?"
There’s a certain warm and proud feeling swarming in Rindou’s chest as he gapes at the lovesick grin stuck on Ran’s stupid face. It’s what he deserves, Rindou thought. Ran’s been through hell and back trying to court this girl.
Neither young Ran nor young Rindou knows that in 15 years time, Rindou would be calling Ran's high school sweetheart his sister-in-law and stealing recipes and life hacks from.
"Fuck yeah, dude. So like I said, just do it now or you'll miss your chance and regret it for-fuckin'-ever. Also, just for your information, 'cause I'm Haitani Ran and I'm also your big bro and feel the extreme need to tell you," Ran nods his head to the direction behind Rindou. "There's a guy hitting up your missus at the counter."
Rindou has never snapped his head back so fast.
He sees a man who's about a year or two older than him holding a piece of paper and pen to you by the counter, his mouth moving a lot and you’re listening intently.
Rindou immediately regrets not learning how to lip read.
Though he is certain the man must have said something out of line because he sees you adjusting the collar of your uniform and you’re biting your lip nervously. He knows you by your habits and by looking at that, he's sure you’re feeling uncomfortable by the man’s presence. Rindou wants nothing more than to smack the sly smirk off the man’s face right away, so he stands up.
He'll win this fight.
The loud creak of the wooden chair sliding against the marble floor catches your attention and you shake your head at him with a frown.
I’m fine.
Rindou understands that much from your eyes and sits back down again, with Ran who has an arm hooked behind the chair observing he situation with an amused smirk.
The idiot lives for chaos. "Maybe this'll teach him a lesson." Ran murmurs beneath his breath as he observes how Rindou's leg is bouncing anxiously against the marble beneath his shoe, watching you and the man like a hawk.
You have a soft smile plastered on your lips as you bow at him politely, rejecting his advances.
"I'm sorry, sir . . .
But I already have someone."
Lovestruck Rindou witnesses your pretty little face look away from the man to him. You with the pretty glint in your eyes, staring deep into his surprised purple ones and him who is now a blushing mess as he fakes a cough and push his round metal glasses higher onto his nose. You see his reaction and it almost makes you giggle but you remain collected as you try to get the man in front of you to leave the store, telling him you're not interested and you have to get back to work.
And it's when he finally does, all beat and ruined, when Rindou's legs moves over to the counter -- to you -- almost automatically. He stands in front of you and suddenly it’s blank in his mind. His mouth is ajar as he tries to remember what he's came here to say.
(Rindou to this day still argues and swears it was your overwhelming presence and especially your pretty smile that's made him forget his words while he fiddled with the hem of his black turtleneck like a damn loser.)
Come up with something, you idiot. Quick.
"Rindou-kun?" Oh, good fucking gracious. That voice. The sweet voice that will be the absolute end of him.
He musters up everything in him to speak.
" . . . D'ya wanna go out with me? For lunch tomorrow. I’ll pick you up and we’ll go together. Anywhere you want . . . As boyfriend and girlfriend, that is."
You're silent for a minute, and Rindou feels his heart race. It’s hot and humid all of a sudden and he feels like digging a hole and jumping right into it and he doesn't dare look at you and he’s afraid of what's to come. But you call for him again.
"Rindou-kun, please look at me."
The boy wipes his sweaty palms on the dark denim of his Levi’s 501 and chews on his lip. He's so nervous he's certain his mother would be making fun of him when she finds out. Unlike his brother, he’s never been good with girls and has never gone to this extent at courting one. Hell, he’s not even sure if he’s been this nervous before. He’s done loads of illegal things, almost landed his ass in juvie multiple times, fought countless of gangs (both big and small), and none of them could compare to what you’re making him feel right now.
You've got a very, very wide smile ready for him when he finally looks up.
“Ask me again, Rindou."
Get yourself together, prick. Be fair to her.
“Do you wanna be my girlfriend?”
.
.
.
"Okay."
Rindou thought he’d ascended into heaven.
Today, the same young boy who is now 31 in age and an expecting father, grins at the memory. He's glad he took Ran's advice the other day. As stupid as his older brother can be sometimes, Rindou cannot deny that Ran is always helpful when he needs to be. Always there for him. Otherwise, he wouldn't be having your worn out figure sleeping beside him in your shared bed, the beautiful band on your ring finger shining brightly at him as the moonlight shines in through the curtains he’s forgotten to shut before bed.
He stares at you as you sleep peacefully; the steady rise and fall of your chest indicating that you're feeling comfortable again. It's been difficult for you to fall asleep these days, the kicking getting harder and more frequent.
"She's so impatient to come out." You pout sleepily at the father of your child as you place a hand on your bump and rubbing slow circles, trying to get her to calm down in your belly. "Just another month left, my baby."
He eyes your stomach and leans down to press a soft kiss to the skin, suddenly feeling a kick to his lips and he airily chuckles. It’s almost like the baby in your stomach recognises him . . .
Her father.
"Don't kick your mom so much, girl. Be nice to her." Rindou tells his kid in his heart.
Another kick.
Brat.
You start stirring in your sleep. Shit. You're waking up after finally falling asleep and it's all because of the father and daughter that's ganging up on you. Talking together behind your back. Destroying your sleep.
Absolutely foul.
There's a frown on your face as you move around beneath the blanket, trying to get comfortable again when your husband runs his calloused thumb over the crease between your eyebrows, gently coaxing you back to dreamland.
It's then Rindou hears it another time.
"Stop doubting everything and believe it'll go well instead. Determination pays off, you know."
He reminds himself to give Ran a call when he wakes up.
Rindou has survived the 10 o'clock. It is now 12pm in the afternoon and he's standing in the middle of a fairly new and empty office room with a woman in her early fifties who he recognises as the Operations Manager, Hasegawa Keiko. Everyone calls her Hasegawa-san despite her constant reassurance that simply calling her Keiko is fine.
Rindou directly reports to her now instead of old Kimura. Although being congratulated and trusted deeply by the company, he still feels a bit strange, standing in an office room two floors above his previous one that now has a floor to ceiling view of Tokyo city. He's also been introduced to many new faces that he'll be working with from now on. No more shitty Ito flirting with Ishikawa-san in public and harassing him on going out for drinks or the really irritating habit of the woman clacking her nails on the desk opposite of him, but he supposes he'll adapt sooner or later. He will; Ran told him that he'll be just fine earlier on the phone. He believes in his brother (and you) more than anyone in the world.
"This will be your new office from now on. Feel free to take some time and explore around, make yourself feel comfortable with the environment and so on. And as always, you can ask me if you're unsure about anything. I'll be in my office most of the time down the hall if you have any further questions." The corners of Hasegawa-san's eyes crinkles and Rindou instantly feels more at ease at her warm welcoming. She reminds him a bit of his late mother.
"I'll leave you to it now. Looking forward to working with you, Haitani-san." And with that, she shuts the door behind her, leaving him alone inside.
The silence is overwhelming.
Rindou immediately fishes out his phone in the pocket, dials in the familiar digits he's long memorised and presses the gadget to his ear.
You pick up after the third ring.
"Baby? How'd it go? Are you okay?" He smiles giddily as he pictures the worried expression on your face and you’re probably sitting on the couch watching TV.
(Everything he’d pictured is exactly what you’re doing, by the way. You've also just finished two bowls of plain white rice fresh from the pot without yourself knowing due to how anxious you felt on behalf of him.)
Your husband simply brushes you off. "Whatcha doin'? Are you eating?”
"Answer my question, Haitani!" He laughs at your tone, "take a guess, babe."
"Well, I’on fuckin' know! That's why I'm asking you.”
He thinks of how to put his words into a statement without sounding too overly happy.
"I've got it, you know.”
You have big, red question marks hanging on top of your head as you wait for him to continue on the other line.
"The promotion . . . I've got it."
Rindou spends his lunch break on the terrace talking to you on the phone. He’s eating the bento you prepared this morning before he left for work. "Finish it, 'kay? The broccoli is expensive." You nagged, knowing how much he despises the said vegetable, but it's included in the new diet he's been keen on trying so he's fine with it. He has you to keep him on track, after all.
He picks up the miserable vegetable with his chopsticks and pushes it into his mouth. Jesus- He closes his eyes as he forces it down the throat.
"Fuck, this is so painful." He coughs when he finally swallows it. You hum from the other line, "what is?"
"The broccoli. Fuckin' hell."
"Sucks to be you. Broccoli's so delicious I don't understand why anyone even hates it. You're weird. Rin."
"Says the person who doesn't eat egg whites."
"Egg whites' got no taste. It should be inedible. It's disgusting."
"And I'm the weird one."
Rindou's been so immersed in talking to you that he doesn't hear the door to the terrace opening and closing. He thought it was just him there, considering everyone else has already went out for lunch and some still remained in their respective offices finishing up paperwork.
He doesn't hear the click of a lighter and cigarette paper burning behind him as he continues to bicker with you on the speaker about why egg whites are delicious and broccolis are not.
"Anyway, I've had 'nuff. I'll be confiscating your watch-Gilmore Girls-with-me rights tonight if you don't finish your broccoli. Your daughter agrees wit' me."
"You know damn well I never miss an episode.”
"Sure, we'll see. I've got clothes to fold now, mostly yours. Bye, weirdo."
"Have I told'cha how noisy you are, mama?" He complains and you laugh and hang up after Rindou reminding you for the third time to take your daily vitamins and wear your grippy socks. That's when the eavesdropper decides to make their presence known.
Rindou nearly chokes on his food when he hears a deep voice speaking behind him. "Your wife?"
He turns around with a mouthful of rice as he takes in the situation. Oh, it's him.
The man who he recognises as Sakoda-san is sitting on a chair with his hands tucked into his pockets, a burning cigarette hanging from his lips.
The same guy who frequents a whorehouse all the way in Kabukichō. Yeah, that one. The one who keeps a polaroid of his children in his wallet on the bedside table while he fucks other women in their rooms, telling them he loves them when he doesn't even mean it.
Saying things for the sake of saying it; Rindou doesn't like that.
He decides to keep his distance as he swiftly finishes the food in his mouth. Of course, he didn't forget his manners.
"Yeah, my wife."
Sakoda-san observes Rindou from the corner of his eyes. How the young man is feeding himself spoon after spoon of the bento, especially the broccoli while he scrolls through his phone, catching up on the latest news and watching random videos that appear on his feed.
"How far along is she?"
Rindou doesn't feel like replying. He's always been a private man who keeps matters to himself, but he thinks it's not fair to the baby in your stomach, his daughter, who he feels her existence should be made known. She's not a secret and shouldn't be kept as one.
"Roughly 8 months. She's due in September."
"A girl?" "Yeah." "What's her name?" "Sakiya." "Sakiya for cherry blossom?" "Yeah." "Your wife picked it?" "We picked it."
Okay, he decides this is as far as he'll go. He starts clipping on the lid of the bento and wiping his mouth with a napkin, ready to leave the terrace (of course he doesn't make it obvious) but Sakoda-san speaks again.
"That's nice. I have a girl too. She's 11 this year. And also a boy who's turning 6." Rindou simply nods and wraps up the bento in the fancy cloth you bought at a bazaar in Harajuku. "Would you like to see a photo of them?"
He stops moving. Rindou thinks of all the options, and the one he feels like picking the most is saying no and leaving.
But he shouldn't be cruel. As much as the man he's talking to is a bad person, a bad father, a bad husband, the children have done nothing wrong. He shouldn't be cruel. It's just an innocent picture of two young children.
"Sure." He agrees out of courtesy and Sakoda-san instantly slips out the polaroid from his wallet and hands it to him. Rindou takes and looks at it carefully. They don't look too happy in it.
"I always keep this with me. Gives me a little push in life, you know?"
A little push? To do all those things to his family?
Rindou is instantly reminded of the many ultrasounds of his daughter attached on the fridge with cute bunny magnets that he glances at every day when grabbing milk from the fridge before leaving for work. He figures that a little push in life contains different meanings to both him and Sakoda-san. It makes him feel sick to the core.
"Nice photo." He hands it back to the man after he finishes looking and stands. Rindou grabs the bento by the handle and is ready to leave, when Sakoda-san stops him once again.
"How good of a drinker are you?"
"I don't drink." Liar. He was fucking Haitani Rindou of Roppongi, for fuck's sake.
"Smoke?"
"I quit."
"Why?"
"Wife's pregnant."
The older man laughs at his blunt responses.
"Your life must be pretty boring, huh?"
Rindou doesn't look back at him when he mutters these words.
"At least I am not you."
It is now past lunch break and back to working hours that Rindou finds himself standing outside of Hasegawa-san's office. He has been for the past few minutes now, actually. Thinking about what to say and what to do; if she’ll approve of him or get pissed off.
He doesn't have the courage to go in.
Rindou had contemplated on keeping the topic away from his boss for now and simply bring it up another time, but he knows that it's not possible; it's only a short time away to when you're due and it’s also not fair to you either.
Finally, after making up his mind, he musters up all the courage in him to knock on the door. He waits for the faint come in and twists the knob.
"I was wondering when you'd come in."
Shit, it was that obvious?
Hasegawa-san closes the file she was working on and leans back in her chair while gesturing to the one in front of her desk. "Have a seat, Haitani-san." He immediately follows with a creak echoing in the room, not wanting to waste more time than he already has.
"You're nervous." It's not a question, it's a statement. And Rindou knows it as he feels himself growing hot and he coughs and sits up straight. "Sorry."
"What is it you're here for?" Hasegawa-san breaks the silence first. Rindou looks down at the half crumpled envelope in his hand, thinking a little before laying it flat on her table and pushing it forward with the letters on it facing her.
She stares at the envelope before swiftly opening it up to read. Rindou watches intently as her eyes go over the letter word by word, before finally folding the paper back to it's original form and laying it down on her desk.
You don't know about this, Rindou reminds himself as he waits patiently for Hasegawa-san to process his letter. You don't know about this, so he has to be serious. He has to be straightforward and sure. He can't be leaving you alone at this time because he doesn't have the balls to request for something that will mean the world to you.
The woman leans on her elbows and looks at him with an unreadable expression. He can't tell what’s going through her mind right now. Is it good or bad? Oh, she's squinting her eyes now. Do I need to say something? Fuck, this is so confusing.
"So, according to your letter, you will be away for . . . 2 months? That's a pretty long time. And it's your first day in this department."
The atmosphere is intense.
Thinking that he needs to speak up, Rindou pulls himself together and starts explaining to his boss.
"I know it may seem unacceptable, considering that I am just only in charge of this position. I am also aware that there will be no one to take over my duties when I'm away due to a short of hands, but my family is important and-"
"-tell me, Rindou." She cuts him off with a stern look. "How much does your wife matter to you?"
He doesn't hesitate in answering. It's immediate. Quick. Determined. Sure.
"Everything."
The tension in Hasegawa-san’s face loosens and she smiles. "Then there's no reason to further explain yourself. It’s all written clearly in your letter and letting you go to be with her is what a decent human being should do.” She pauses, “I wish my husband did that for me as well. I'm a woman too, so I know how it must feel to want her husband with her at this period of time.”
To say Rindou is shocked is an understatement. A higher up that doesn't ask questions? Doesn't make you wonder if your decision was right or wrong? Doesn't shame you for having different priorities?
No. It's not because she's being soft. It’s not because she’s biased. It's not because she doesn't care.
It's because she understands.
"I wish for her a safe delivery. Is it a boy or a girl?"
"A girl."
"How nice. I have three sons myself, I wish I had a girl too, to accompany me and so on. Boys grow up a lot faster than girls do." She laughs.
Rindou places both his hands on his knees as he lets out a breath of relief. Other than the meeting earlier today, letting his boss know that he will need to take some time off is also what's been clouding his mind for the entire week.
Your due date has clashed with the moment his work became much more serious and now he has to pick between the two: to stay with work and continue to fulfil his new duties and responsibilities while pouring his heart and soul into his shitty company or to stay at home and take care of you when everyone else is busy taking care of the baby.
And the answer is clear, actually. He'll never let anything, especially work, get between him and his family, and he's never let himself be placed in a position where he feels obliged to choose between the two. If he is, then you and the baby will always come first, no matter what, and he'll quit his job if he has to.
Letting Hasegawa-san know about this is just for him to find out if he has to quit his job to stay with you or not.
And luckily, he doesn't have to. Because Hasegawa-san is an angel in disguise and he feels so terribly relieved. God, he misses you so much. He really wants to go home and kiss you right now.
"You can go now. I'll sort things out with HR. You should take the rest of the day off, too. Go celebrate with your wife and spend some time with her. And please don't worry about work, I'll have a substitute soon for your position."
"Thank you, Hasegawa-san."
"You're welcome, and Keiko is fine. You remind me a lot of my second boy, by the way."
And you remind me of my mother.
"I'll see you soon, son. Take good care of your wife, yeah?"
"I will, Keiko-san."
You are in the midst of hanging up his clothes in the closet when Rindou arrives home.
"ただいま."
"Huh? Why are you home at this hour?"
He kisses your forehead and takes the hanger from your hand. He tells you to sit down and you listen and . . . Great. He's taken charge of hanging his own clothes now.
Rindou is always doing the chores whenever he can now that you're too pregnant to move around even when you insist to him that you can do it. "I like to move around, Rin. 'Don't like to sit around 'n daydream all day, it's boring."
"Boss' let me off early." He states nonchalantly and you raise a brow. You see your husband organising his clothes by colour and you suddenly feel some kind of warmth blossoming in your chest. Much to you and his brother's demise, Rindou used to be the kind of person who doesn't hang his clothes and just throws it in his closet when he's done with the laundry but that changed drastically when he met you. You always nagged at him to hang them up and sort it out by colour, by shirt category, so it'll look more organised and neat when he opens the closet.
"Why?" "I'll tell you later." "Why can't you tell me now?" "It's a surprise." "Huh?"
You're so confused.
Rindou is facing you now. "Have you showered?" You shake your head and remove the claw clip from your hair, scratching at your scalp. "Not yet. I needa' wash my hair, though. It's kinda itchy."
"I'll wash for you." He leads you to the bathroom slowly and helps you into the shower when you both are stripped off your clothes.
You're standing on the non-slip mat and adjusting the water temperature when Rindou joins you in the shower. "I'll take you out tonight. What'chu feel like eating?" He rinses through your body and you hum softly as he starts lathering shampoo on your hair. "Dunno, but I don't feel like eating something spicy, though."
"You want western?" You let out a sigh when he scratches at the itchy spot just above your ear, "sure."
The both of you don't speak after that, choosing to relish in the comfort of the warm water running down your bodies but you're suddenly reminded of it. Cheers to him for managing to butter you up successfully.
"Are you gonna tell me why you're home early?"
"'Told'cha, boss' let me off early." "Yeah, but why?" "I'll tell you over dinner." "You're pissing me off, Rin. Tell me now."
Okay, you're getting mad.
He's grown used to your mood swings over the course of this pregnancy and after so long, he's figured that the best way to deal with it is just by simply accepting it. It'll go away eventually and he should be patient with you and your emotions. After all, it's harder on you.
But he can't deny that it's a bit funny, though. You're getting mad at him because he won't tell you the actual reason he's home early while he's busy washing your hair yet you're purring whenever he scratches at a certain spot on your scalp.
"I got some time off. You know, when you give birth then I'll get to be home 'n take care of you 'n 'Kiya."
"Oh, so you're a romantic."
"Of course."
You feel so happy after listening to him that you turn around (slowly) and pull him down for a quick smooch. "Here's one from 'Kiya." And you kiss him harder this time, "'n one from me."
Rindou is dumbfounded when he looks at you who has literal hearts in your eyes as you hold his face in your hands like he's fragile porcelain, like he's some fine china. You run your thumbs over his cheekbones and pinch his cheeks.
(Doing that made you remember the times you liked to pinch his chubbier ones when you were still teenagers.)
"'Love you."
You with soapsuds in your hair proclaiming your love to your husband for the nth time over the course of 15 years (before and after marriage) and him with his fingers tangled in your hair as he continues scrubbing.
He smirks handsomely, "you tryna skimp out on the kisses, mama? I know my daughter ain't so stingy with 'em," he removes his hands to touch on your bump, "gimme one more, baby."
A kick.
"She jus' said no."
"She said yes, you brat."
You hold him by the neck and softly inhale the scent of his musky body wash that you've grown to find comfort in. He's so endearing that you don't want to let go.
You never want to let go of him.
Rindou lands two strong and assuring hands on your waist and keeps you close to his body.
"Quit sniffin' me, I still need to wash your hair."
You suck on his neck and he squeezes your ass in return. It's nothing sexual or anything, you just like sucking on his neck randomly and Rindou never passes up the chance to grip on your fat.
Some of the foam from your hair has gotten to his face and he simply washes it off with water, though you still don't let go of him.
"Never change your body wash, babe."
"I know . . . You tell me that every day."
Rindou is helping you pick out your outfit as you sit by the dresser doing your makeup. He's holding two dresses in his hands,
"Do you wanna wear this?”
Option A: a long red floral one that he bought for you while away at a business trip in Kyoto. He saw it while passing by and immediately stopped the car to cop it from the old lady. It wasn't for a special occasion or anything, he'd just seen it and felt like buying it for you and you haven’t got the chance to wear it until today.
"Or this?"
Option B: a shorter navy blue sundress that is obviously a little too tight and small for you right now.
“Baby, please. You know I can’t fit in that.” “I know. ‘Was just foolin’ wit’ ya.” “I’ll bite you.” “Go 'head.”
He lays the red dress down flat on your bed and plops down beside it, waiting for you to get ready. “I’m still halfway done wit’ the nursery. I’ll have more time to work on it now that I’m home.” Rindou says and you finish clipping on your right earring. “It’s just the crib and rocking chair left now, right?” You’re referring to the unfinished pieces of furniture that’s sitting in the nursery room next door and he hums as a response.
"Are we finished buying Sakiya's stuff? We can get the remaining later when we’re out. Settle it sooner, you know?"
“No, we’re finished. Ran ‘n Miwa have already bought tons for us.” You think of your sister-in-law who seems more excited for Sakiya's arrival than you, constantly buying you gifts like clothes and toys for the baby whenever she and Ran comes over for dinner together. “Auntie Miwa and Uncle Ran are so excited to see you, girl.” Miwa squeals as she touches your baby bump, feeling a soft kick to her palm.
“Ran is helping us save money now?” You laugh at his joke, “he seems enthusiastic to do so.”
In another city all the way in Ikebukuro is Ran in his home office sneezing with Miwa standing behind him massaging his back. “You’ve got a cold too? Everyone around me is getting a cold and it isn’t even flu season. I’ll have to stay away from you now, Ran. I don’t like getting sick.” She blabbers along and Ran simply hushes her down with a hand to her mouth. Miwa licks it and he retracts his hand away with a scowl, “you’re nasty, love. And you talk too much.” Miwa places a hand on her hip as she looks down at her husband like a mother scolding her son, “I’m not the one sneezing and at a risk of falling sick.” “It’s just Rindou talkin’ ‘bout me, wifey. I know it, I can feel it.”
Back home in Ueno is Rindou sneezing again. “Stupid Ran, he talkin’ ‘bout me too? Asshole.” “Huh?”
Neither Ran nor Rindou stops sneezing for the next five minutes and you and Miwa are left confused, wondering about just how strong these two brothers’ telepathy senses are.
You are actively ignoring your husband’s mumbling and cursing about stupid Ran this, stupid Ran that while combing your hair and Miwa isn’t even in the room with Ran anymore.
“Stop sneezing, Rin.” “Then tell Ran to stop talkin’ ‘bout me.” “Shaddap, you’re just makin’ things up.” “‘M not.”
While blowing his nose on a tissue you handed him, Rindou hears you humming along to a song playing on the radio and he instantly feels at peace.
He's home, you're sitting pretty on the stool, you'll be enjoying Western food together at a fancy restaurant downtown later tonight, and Sakiya will be here anytime soon.
Everything is calm and fine,
and Rindou thinks he will never be giving up this serenity for the world. He'll burn it up if he has to; if it guarantees his family forever peace and happiness.
There can only be his family.
His love. His heart.
reblogs are appreciated & i hope you guys enjoyed this! ૮ ˶´ ᵕˋ ˶ა
ending is a bit rushed cus idk anymore he's successfully rotted my brain and i have fallen onto my knees for this man
#r1988#home collection#rindou x reader#rindou haitani x reader#haitani rindou x reader#haitani rindou#rindou haitani#tokyo revengers x reader#tokrev x reader#tr x reader#tokyo revengers#ran x reader
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All Shook Up | Killing Bono AU
Chapter 1: Hello, Neighbors
Warning: Strong language, drugs and alcohol
(General Masterlist) | (All Shook Up Masterlist)
"Crying again, Joy?" Gloria huffed as she walked into the apartment. "Come on, it's been five months, if you didn't wanna move out of your parents' why did you come to London anyway?"
"I did wanna move out, I just didn't imagine it would be so hard," the girl wiped her tears with the collar of her shirt. "I just keep thinking I let them down you know? They wanted me to be a doctor or something, but now I'm a failed musician living with a failed actress..."
"Hey! Who are you calling failed actress?" She gasped. "Anyway, disappointing your parents to make your dreams come true is a part of life, everyone does it. Parents just like to shove their dreams onto their kids thinking they'll get to live through them, but that's not how it goes. Maybe one day you'll have your own kids and want them to be musicians, but they'll run with the circus or something."
"Wow, you really know how to comfort someone, Gloria."
"I don't exactly have time to comfort you right now, call your mom- actually no, don't call your mom, that'll make it worse. Talk to Karl, or the new neighbors, I don't care."
"Since when do we have neighbors?"
"Since today, a couple of guys pretending to be gay, but the older one wouldn't stop checking me out," Gloria laughed. "The younger one looked like a malnourished 14-year-old boy, but he was cute."
"A cute malnourished 14-year-old? Really?" Joy was finally able to smile for the first time that day.
"With curly hair too, you like guys with curly hair, right?"
"Stop, I'm not doing that, I have to focus on getting a job. I can't think of boyfriends now."
"Who said anything about boyfriends? I'm talking about sex."
"I don't wanna have sex with a curly-haired malnourished 14-year-old!"
"He's Irish too."
"Okay, I might think about it," she tilted her head.
"You're such a slut... Are you coming tonight? The party? I can't stay for long, but I think it'll be good for you. Nothing like getting drunk to forget about your stupid parents in the middle of nowhere Oklahoma."
Gloria wasn't wrong, Joyce was born in the middle of nowhere, on a watermelon farm in Oklahoma. Her parents got the farm from her grandparents, and that's how it had been for over five generations.
Her brother, Lenny, would be the one taking over one day, so her parents had big plans for her. Going to the city, becoming a doctor, and marrying some rich guy to have lots of kids that would eventually work on the farm.
That story wouldn't exist, though, if Joyce followed their plan. Truth is that rock had been running through her veins for as long as she could remember.
Being the punk-rock princess she was, what better place to start her new life after graduating high school than London? The Beatles, David Bowie, Fleetwood Mac, Queen! Those were the people she wanted to be like, not a doctor who would one day die and have no one remember her name.
"Yeah, I'm going tonight."
——————————————————
"Hey, Karl!" Gloria greeted as they entered the club. It was a completely new scene for Joyce, she had no idea what these people were about, but maybe it would be nice for her to forget about everything else and have fun for once.
"Hiiiii," Joy ran to give him a hug.
"My favorite girls," Karl held her tightly. He knew how much she had been hurting ever since leaving her home and her country, so it made him happy to see her smile. "Meet your new neighbors."
"Hello neighbors," Gloria grinned in that charming way she always did.
"Hey, I'm Joyce, you can call me Joy," she studied both men. They were definitely trying to look extravagant... Both of them were handsome, the older one had an arrogance she couldn't get over, but the younger one didn't match at all the description Gloria gave her.
He was a bit scrawny and baby-faced, yeah, but he was also incredibly cute. He looked like an angel almost, and his eyeliner only accentuated those beautiful green eyes he had. His smile could light up the entire town, or maybe it was his Irish lilt that had her hypnotized. Didn't matter, what mattered is that she was soooo happy she decided to come.
"You're American," the boy gave her the most innocent look. Oh, he's sweet, he's really sweet... she thought.
"What gave it away? Was it our accent?" Gloria teased.
"Sorry, this is Ivan, sometimes he acts like he lives in a field," the older introduced, clearly trying to impress the girls.
"Is there something wrong with living in a field?" Joy laughed uncomfortably. "I grew up there, it was pretty nice."
"N-no! That's just something we say back home, it's not like that!"
"And this is Neil," Ivan smirked. "Sometimes he acts like a massive knobhead. I'm sorry."
Joy was left wondering why someone as nice as Ivan would be hanging around (and pretending to date) someone as presumptuous and stupid as Neil.
"Gloria used to be in your game, the original punk rocker," Karl gestured toward her. "And little Joy is currently fighting for a record deal as well."
"Really?" Ivan's face lit up. "Do you play something?"
"I play the bass and sing sometimes... I'm looking for a band, but it hasn't happened yet."
"Neil! That's perfect! Joy can join our band!"
"Don't be stupid, we are the band," Neil scoffed.
"Back in Ireland we had more members," Ivan grumbled.
"And they all abandoned us like the massive twats they are, so now it's just us. And no offense, but we don't even know if she's good."
"You do know I'm still here, right?" Joyce muttered. "I would be more than happy to audition..."
"B-but you're a girl!" Neil yelped.
"Wow, thank you for pointing that out, I never noticed before," she shook her head before marching away, not wanting anyone to see how close she was to crying.
"You're such a fuckin' cock! She was sweet and you're a massive dickhead like always!" Ivan grumbled, following after her.
He tried to catch her attention, but the place was too noisy and he couldn't go after her in the girl's bathroom, where she entered to wash the back of her neck with cold water and hopefully calm down.
It was no news for Joyce that people in big cities were assholes, but from what she could tell, they were not from the big city. They were newcomers just like her, shouldn't they all help each other out? They needed musicians for their band, she was a musician looking for a band, was it really that much of a stretch?
The feeling of impending doom, that twisted sickly sensation in her stomach telling her that everything would always go wrong in her life and her dreams could never come true was getting too overwhelming and every day that doubt would grow more and more. Going back home and following the plan her parents imagined for her seemed to be her best option sometimes.
"Why are you so stupid?" Joyce screamed at herself, staring in the mirror, fanning her eyes trying not to let her tears ruin her eyeliner that took at least fifteen minutes to perfect.
"You aren't," a tiny voice came from the other side of the door.
"What?" She winced, thinking she had finally gone nuts from all of her delusions and stress.
"You are not stupid, he is."
"Ivan? How long have you been waiting?" She opened the door to find him leaning against the wall. "Oh, you have coke on your-"
The young man quickly wiped the tip of his nose with the back of his hand, most certainly cursing himself for looking like some junkie idiot in front of her. Great first impression...
"I just wanted to say you are not the problem, that's just how Neil is sometimes. Most of the time. He likes things to be his way or no way, and that usually gets me fucked over somehow, he has the worst decision-making I've ever seen! I didn't even wanna come to London if I'm being honest. I had my friends, my family, I had a girlfriend. And now I'm here, without a job, pretending to be gay in a nightclub and doing drugs, my mum would kill me!"
Joyce couldn't help but laugh, which made Ivan laugh as well, happy to see her smile again. He seemed genuinely nice, she didn't understand how he could possibly be related to someone like Neil. It was the only explanation as to why they were hanging out together in the first place.
"Why are you pretending to be gay?"
"We thought Karl would be more open... it would be easier to get the flat. He just assumed we were a couple and my brother didn't bother correcting him."
"If it makes you feel any better, I really like your look. It's really sexy, especially the makeup and the earring which-" she pulled it and it came off easily in her hand. "Yeah, I knew it was fake. Pity, it really suits you."
"What I heard from all this is that you think I'm sexy?" Ivan asked hopefully.
"You're all coked up, kinda drunk... I'm definitely not sleeping with you."
"Why not? Maybe a kiss? I can put the earring back, I'll even pierce my ears for real!" He pouted.
"It's not it," Joyce shook her head. "If we ever kiss or have sex, I'd want you to remember it and be fully aware of what you're doing."
"Jesus, you're really sweet..." he cried.
"Thanks, you are too. Or you might just be in comparison to your brother," she teased. "Also, Karl would've been fine knowing you're straight, he doesn't care. He's literally the nicest person I've met since I arrived in London."
Ivan narrowed his eyes in thought, an idea taking place in his mind. He never stood up to Neil, not when he stopped them from accepting help from Bono, not when he messed up their big gig, not when he dragged him to a whole new country against his will. Maybe it was time to take a risk.
"You're gonna audition to join our band," he blurted out. "I don't give a shit, you're gonna audition. If you're bad, then fine, Neil is right. If you're good, you're gonna help us get where we need to be."
"What about-?"
"Don't worry about him, I'll deal with him later. I wanna hear you play, tomorrow night at our place."
"Sounds good," Joyce grinned, leaning against the wall next to him. "Thank you, Ivan. If you weren't on drugs, I'd definitely kiss you."
"I'll never do drugs again," he huffed a soft laugh. "Can't risk missing out on the chance... Would you at least dance with me? It's a start innit?"
She smiled even wider and hid her blushing cheeks behind her hands. Maybe, just maybe things could work out after all.
"Fine, I guess a dance wouldn't hurt anyone."
Tag List: @salvador-daley @seanfalco @elliethesuperfruitlover @firstpersonnarrator
#killing bono fanfic#killing bono#ivan mccormick#ivan x oc#fanfic#robert sheehan character fic#robert sheehan fanfic
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Dec 11th the best gift!
Media death of a superhero
Character Donald
Couple Donald X Reader
Rating adorable
11th or December 2022
I sat on my little bean bag headphones on working away on my comic when I saw the door open it was my mum so I took a headphone off one ear
"Yeah?"
"Y/n's here" she smiled
"Oh thanks send her up" I smiled putting my headphones away and fixing myself a little bit.
Soon enough the door opened to a rather adorable sight.
She stood in her little white converses with stars drawn on, her green tights with Christmas lights printed on them twisting up her legs, a little black dress with gingerbread men on it and a bit of blue and silver tinsel to bundle her neon purple hair
"Hello!"
"Hi y/n" I smiled
"You are not festive" she says sitting beside me on the other beanbag giving my arm a poke
"Knowone I'd as festive as you sweetheart. You are the poster child for Christmas"
"Still" she pouts
"You look beautiful sweetheart. What did you pop over for I thought you'd be with your family thought till new year?"
"I will but I wanted to come see you before and give you your present and so I don't miss you too bad"
"Aww that's sweet. I'm going to miss you too but it'll only be a week or so and we'll still text I'm sure"
"Well I wanted to visit"
"Alright, you want your present?"
"Yes please"
"Alright, eyes shut" I told her so she closed her eyes, I got up putting my work away and got the bag from under my bed "here you go"
"Yay! Thank you ducky" she smiled giving my cheek a kiss as she took the bag I smiled and watched her open her little card "aww I love you too" she smiled before getting to work on her presents "ooooohh it's beautiful" she Cooes holding the dress to her body letting it sparkle
"I thought good for around the holidays or just when you wanna be sparkly"
"It's lovely" she smiled giving me a kiss "ohh and recipient?"
"I put it in just incase I brought the wrong size."
"Thoughtful" she giggled before getting her next one "oohh just the colours I wanted!" She smiled getting the little make up set out
"I can take a hint sweetheart you've been talking about it for months"
"And one more small one" she giggled opening it up "oh? A box"
"Yes. A box for you to put the new fantastic lands game in when it comes out in January. I am going to buy it for you and I have it pre-ordered but they pushed the release date back so"
"Awww thank you ducky" she smiled giving me a kiss "thank you for my lovely gifts"
"Your welcome sweetheart. Could I maybe have mine now?'
"Of course. I'm afraid it's only one this year but I think you'll really like it" she smiled handing over the bag, I opened the little Christmas card of a robin seeing all the millions of kisses she put in it "aww I love you too sweetheart, and I'd like my one billion kisses please"
"They are in installments" she smiled giving me about five kisses
"Thank you" I smiled pulling the large box from the bag I pondered for a moment what it could be but pulled the paper off revealing "a box?'
"Open the box"
"Okay" I laughed and as I did I almost fainted "oh my god! Are these real?"
"Yes"
"But - but there" I began stuttering in shock at the whole box of copic art markers in all various colours and sizes
"I know that's why it's on big present this year" she smiled "it even has the little storage thing to keep them all in"
"Holy fuck. This is the best gift ever! I have like two of them because they are so good but so expensive I can't believe you brought these for me!" I smiled hugging her tightly unable to stop actual tears "I love you so much!'
"I love you too" she smiled
"I need to get you more presents"
"What? Why?'
"This is not equal"
"It's alright Donald I don't mind I love my presents and I'm just happy your happy"
"No you don't understand I would give you my soul if I knew how and even then that's not enough for this!"
"I'm just happy you like it"
"I do I love It this Is the best gift ever. I love you I love you I love you!"
"I love you too. You want to give them a try?"
"I'm going to unpack them all into the storage I need to look at each and every one of them" I told her slowly pulling them out one by one "how many are in here?"
"Almost all of them or all I could find on their website"
"All of them! How'd how- I may actually faint." I told her "whatever you want for the rest of our lives tell me I will get it for you!"
"Anything?'
"Anything! Forever!'
"Well I'd like a trip to get my favourite take away?"
"Done! As soon as I sort these we will go and I will buy you anything you want."
"You don't have to -"
"Yes I do. You do not understand how happy this makes me. I love you so much and I'll never be able to fully repay you for this"
"Awww in sure you will so long as you use them and appreciate them that's fine"
"I will I'll use them everyday and appreciate every single one, whenever I draw I shall think of you sweetheart"
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Esmé loses her voice. Georgina’s feelings. lazy mornings, interrupted. 👀👀
Ah! Excellent choices!!! (Here is the link to the title list in case anyone wants to send more)
Esmé Loses Her Voice
Okay so I do genuinely love this concept BUT also I don't think it'll ever get finished. It was in fact this very fic that make me realise I am apparently incapable of writing fun / silly stories because the entire concept was just "Esmé loses her voice and, being Esmé, makes it everyone else's problem" with a healthy helping of Eswell content for the funsies. And yet. I could barely exceed 250 words. I just- I don't know how to go on from here. So the snippet below the cut is literally everything I've got
P.S. if anyone can teach me how to write silly stories, I would be immensely and eternally grateful. I think they're so neat
Georgina's Feelings
Another Eswell one!! I started this months ago and honestly completely forgot about it until writing out that title list, but I do genuinely want to finish it because it's FUN. Basically, Esmé and Georgina have an established arrangement, and the entire fic is just Georgina resolutely Not Having Romantic Feelings for Esmé despite... the obvious. Very fun times. The snippet for this one is also everything I've got, but it's split into two sections - a paragraph from very near the start, and the ending of the whole thing (separated by one of these — bad boys for ease of reading)
Lazy Mornings, Interrupted
I would like to say that I am very impressed that, in a list of 20 titles, you managed to pick the three shortest WIPs in my collection, by quite a significant margin. I know I've already answered some of the others, but still. Anyway, once again this one has barely anything to it at the moment, though I do thoroughly intend to finish it, and the snippet is once again literally everything I have so far. This is the one and only Jacquesmé fic I've ever attempted (though I do want to write more of them, because their dynamic fascinates me), and the snippet I've included is from towards the end of the fic. Basically, Jacques and Esmé have been casually seeing each other for some time, but have hidden it from the rest of the sugar bowl gen because, even though the schism hasn't officially happened yet, tensions are rising between the two future-sides. Also Esmé and Lemony have always hated each other, and her dating his brother would cause unnecessary drama. However, this fic takes place when Lemony comes back to the shared Snicket apartment one morning when he and Kit were both supposed to be away, and Esmé has spent the night. He almost catches her there, and after he leaves, she and Jacques have a conversation about the future of their relationship, ending with the snippet below the cut (though I would still like to add some more to the end of it as well just to round out the fic better. If I ever do finish it, that is)
Esmé Loses Her Voice:
Esmé was pouting. This wasn’t at all an unusual occurrence in and of itself; in fact, it was her go-to expression of displeasure. What was unusual was that she’d been pouting silently, for the last forty-five minutes – something that was entirely out of character, and entirely out of her control if she wanted to have her voice back for the imminent auction she’d been asked to not only attend, but to host. Something Georgina had been hearing about, non-stop, for the last six months.
Safe to say, this weekend had promised a welcome break.
Until Esmé had actually arrived, of course. Georgina often insisted that she despised her lover’s endless chatter, rolling her eyes and feigning disinterest – but she was well aware that it was, at least in part, an act. The truth was, Esmé’s voice could make anything sound interesting, no matter how tedious the topic, and Georgina was rapidly discovering just how silent her home could be in the absence of that strangely entrancing voice. When she was alone, she relished the silence. But somehow, knowing Esmé was present and wanted to talk made it feel almost… oppressive.
She looked up from her desk and found that Esmé’s pout was now directed at her, and entirely failed to stifle her smile (mostly because she didn’t actually try to). For a woman that could strike fear and awe into the hearts of half the City, she shouldn’t have been able to look so… well. So adorable.
“Yes, sweetheart? Did you say something?” the pout turned into a full blown glare, and Georgina laughed.
Georgina's Feelings:
Georgina swirled the rather unnatural-looking cocktail in her glass and watched as it sparkled in the orange-tinted lights of the ballroom, pointedly refusing to look up when Esmé’s laugh cut through the general murmur of music and conversation. Her ears, however, were clearly not as well trained as her other senses, and focused in on the sound of her lover’s voice, headless of the distance between them. Her mind conjured up melodic comparisons, conjuring quotes from half-forgotten poems she’d read in her youth. I love to hear her speak, yet well I know her mind began, unbidden, reciting a sonnet she had been particularly enamoured with as a young girl, that music hath a far more pleasing sound. She realised Esmé was looking at her before she could draw the next line out of her hazy memory – and around the same time her mind finally registered that she was looking at Esmé. And had been for some time, judging by the self-satisfied smile playing across the other woman’s lips. This is why you don’t drink at parties. She chastised herself for her lack of self-control, even as she allowed her eyes to wander over Esmé’s body, barely concealed by her dress. Perhaps there are some advantages to these parties, she mused.
—
Georgina had always thought ‘love’ to be a ridiculous word, and a pointless emotion. Love is what makes the strong weak and the intelligent foolish. Love is what inspires rash decisions and impossible promises. Love is how other people get to you, creating a crack in Georgina’s otherwise ironclad defences. Love is what she has spent a great deal of her life avoiding, crushing into a tiny metaphorical bottle and tucking away deep in the recesses of her heart. Love is an emotion for lesser people, she is certain. So what she feels for Esmé Squalor is not love.
It can’t be.
Lazy Mornings, Interrupted:
“Mmm… well, luckily, I happen to be very,” she squeezed her thighs around his hips, rocking against him once to emphasise the word, and his knuckles whitened as he gripped her waist even tighter, “close with the fashion columnist for The Daily Punctilio, and I have it on very good authority that he’s planning on taking his incredibly stylish girlfriend to that exact location this very evening.”
“Girlfriend?”
“That’s what I’ve heard.” Her voice was deliberately neutral and she shrugged one shoulder as she said it, the picture of a casual statement. Even if it was the first time either of them had defined their relationship – and he really could call it a relationship now, because the infamously commitment-avoidant Esmé Squalor had deigned to describe herself as his girlfriend.
Jacques couldn’t contain his smile, even as he tried to play along with her game. “And I’m sure, since he’s taking his stylish and beautiful girlfriend,” and he was almost certain he wasn’t imagining the way she relaxed a little against him as he said it, or just how natural the word felt on his tongue, “to this restaurant, it should be appearing in this morning’s edition of his column, just so everyone else in the City is caught up with just how In it is, yes?”
“Precisely.”
#asoue#eswell#jacquesme#gray zelle#WIP titles#the lesbian herself#i had almost finished answering this when tumblr decided to just. fuckin delete it all#FUCK YOU tumblr#s o m a n y w o r d s#GONE#i am really glad you sent this ask though#because i love rambling about my WIPs#and i thought no one was going to send any more#so thank you!!!
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Of lullabies and lost puppies
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood
Word count: 2585
Relationships: Alphonse Elric & Edward Elric
Tags: Post-Promised Day, Hospitals, Fluff, Childhood Memories, Light Angst, Hopeful Ending.
Summary: Following the events of the Promised Day, Alphonse is stuck in a hospital. To cheer him up, Edward starts telling stories.
Read on AO3
"Hey, Al?" Ed whispers, in case he's dozed off again.
It's not that big of a stretch, considering that Alphonse doesn't usually stay awake for more than an hour at a time, and even then he's all quiet and groggy and tired and not all there. The doctors say it's not too concerning, that his body just needs to build up strength again and in a few months he'll be right as rain.
Ed still worries though. How can he not, when his brother lies there, all brittle bones and paper-thin skin? Every time he looks at Alphonse he has to fight the instinct to wrap him up in a bone-crushing hug and never let go. The only thing that's currently stopping him is the knowledge that with how fragile the boy is at the moment, he just might literally crush a bone or something.
And so, Ed refrains. Holds the skeletal hand with gentleness he never knew he possessed, places feather-light kisses on the hollow cheeks, whispers comforts and assurances when they're needed - and that is all too often, because in his years in the armor Al forgot how to deal with nightmares. For now, it has to be enough.
And it is. Honestly, Ed would be content simply watching from afar, basking in the glow of the wonder that is his brother, alive and breathing. The fact that he's allowed to be here, despite all his faults and sh-shortcomings, is a miracle. He's so fucking happy he could cry - has cried, multiple times, when he knew nobody was watching. He gets delightfully lightheaded every time he thinks of how it's all finally over.
They won.
"Brother?"
Al is looking at him with half-closed, clouded eyes and he does this adorable little yawn and truth this is all he's ever wanted and more.
"Still here" As if he's ever leaving his side again "How was your nap?"
Alphonse yawns again and stretches as much as his atrophied muscles let him. Ed wishes he had a camera.
"Wasn't sleeping. Just thinking. I'm bored."
"Sure you weren't" A grin. "We could read, if you want. They don't have any books here, which is weird, but I managed to negotiate a bunch of old magazines from the nurses. It's not much and they're mostly pictures, but we could make fun of old-people fashion. Maybe find something for Mustang's retirement party, he's so ancient that it could be any day now."
"Brother, be nice!" Al giggles, and he counts it as a win."
The day I'm nice to that bastard is the day I've finally lost my mind. If that ever happens, I fully expect you to spare us both the embarrassment and put me out of my misery."
"Ed!" His brother scolds and ouch.
"Sorry, Al. Too soon?"
"It'll always be too soon. Stop talking nonsense and tell me another story."
"Well, if you insist..."
They've been at it for days now. With Al too weak to do anything besides talking and sleeping, and Ed too paranoid to leave him alone for more than five minutes at a time, they didn't have much else to do to pass the time. Ed could get real books if he wanted - plenty of people who visited them brought gifts and care packages. But... It's selfish, he knows, but for now he wants to keep Alphonse to himself. In this little hospital room with just the two of them where everything is alright in the world and nothing else matters - not fights, not politics and not even alchemy.
"Actually... Do you remember the time we almost got a dog?"
"What?" Al chokes a little. "No! When did that happen?"
"Figures" Ed chuckles. "You were really young. Like, barely two? It's kinda fuzzy on the timeline, but B-Hohenheim was still there."
(He's so not unpacking that now)
"You were a really fussy baby, you know. It was like you had it all figured out already, what you wanted to eat, wear and do, and god forbid we got it wrong or happened to be in the way of your 'Big Plans' or something. You'd go all red and start screaming your head off until we managed to decipher which little thing offended your gentle sensibilities this time."
"Are you sure you remember right?" Al interrupts, cheeks flushed, "I think you're confusing us. I'm the quiet one."
"Yeah, right" Ed snorts. "You weren't very quiet back then. Babies are loud in general, but you took it to the whole new level. I'm pretty sure I learned how to walk just to get away from your wailing. All the neighbors knew when you were upset, and I'm sure the entire Resembool still remembers the Nappy Incident of 1901. Why do you think they're so nice to you all the time? Nobody wants a repeat of that."
He shudders. His poor baby eardrums. It's a good thing that Al mellowed out with age, because the world wasn't ready for two Elrics' bullshit, and Ed himself has no intention of cutting down on his own.
"Ed, the story!" His brother whines.
"Right. So. Where was I? Oh, yeah. You were a fussy baby. So one sunny day you decided that you weren't taking your naps unless either me or mom sang to you - you didn't want Hohenheim there at all, which made him depressed and pathetic until mom figured out you just didn't like his new cologne. And you wouldn't take just any song, it had to be a new one every time, or else you would start shrieking."
"Really?" Al mutters to himself, but Ed answers nonetheless.
"Uh huh. Spoiled brat." He smiles fondly and pats his head.
"So, a couple of weeks later we're running out of songs. You're in an especially bad mood that evening and it's taking me and mom a while to get you to sleep. Eventually, she has to run to the kitchen to check on the dinner and just leaves me there with my bloody siren of a brother, and I'm getting desperate. And then I remember a song I heard from the older kids, which I know you haven't heard before because it's sad as fuck. And, well, you're already upset, what do I have to lose?"
Ed sighs and runs his hand through his hair. As fondly as he remembers that day, looking back at it, he can admit it wasn't his brightest moment.
"What was the song about?" Al asks curiously. "Do you still remember it? And where does the dog come in?"
"I'm getting to it, Al." He insists. "And I don't remember the words, I was, like, three or so. But the gist of it was that a kid has lost his puppy and was looking for it. He didn't find the dog in the end, so. As I said, sad as fuck. You made it halfway through the second verse before bursting into tears. Seriously, I've never seen you cry so hard before. Of course I immediately shut up and so did you, so you'd think that all was good, right? Just forget about it and move on."
"Did I... Did I hold a grudge?" Alphonse's eyes are wide and it's the most lucid he's been in days. "Did I hold grudges as a baby?"
"You sure did," hums Ed. "But it's not what happened. As soon as I shut up, you started shaking your tiny fists and demanding I do it again."
"Why?!"
"I don't know!" He throws his hands in the air. "I didn't understand that either! I thought, maybe it was a fluke, and you cried because of something else, but as soon as I started singing you were tearing up again! So I stopped and you got angry and I said: "But you cry when I sing it!" And you insisted you weren't going to cry again if I sang, so I did and of course that was a fucking lie. So that's when I put my foot down and said I wasn't going to do it again even if you screamed. And, as always, you took that as a challenge."
"Why don't I remember this?" Al sighs faintly. "You weren't much older than me, so how do you remember it?"
"Well, duh, I was traumatized."
Al swats lazily at another headpat and Ed effortlessly catches his brother's hand between his own two palms. As he starts rubbing it carefully, Alphonse makes a pleased noise and settles down.
"So, mom rushes in with you screaming your little head off and she can't make you stop either. So she turns to me and asks what happened here in the two minutes she was gone and I do my best to explain, and she just. Loses it."
"Did she get mad?"
Edward grins.
"That's what I thought. But no, she just burst out laughing so hard she was crying. There were tears rolling down her cheeks and everything. I figured I was in trouble and began tearing up. And then you stopped yelling and started crying too. I'm sure it was a sight, all three of us like that. Dad sure thought so."
Alphonse's little squeak startles Ed out of the memory and wipes the stupidly wide smile off his face.
"What? Shit, are you okay? Did I hurt you?!"
He quickly puts Al's hand down and makes a move to get up and call a nurse, but freezes as he feels his brother's grip on his wrist. It's an objectively pathetic thing, barely tight enough to be noticeable, but it stops him in his tracks better than steel ever could.
For a second, he doesn't breathe. He knows it's irrational, but it's his brother, the most precious and important thing in the universe, and what if he hurt him-
Then,
"Ed", Alphonse says softly, almost whispers, and he sounds so heartbreakingly sad it hurts to hear. "I wish you stopped doing this to yourself. I'm okay. It's not your fault, you didn't hurt me. Please sit down."
Edward bites his lip and does as he's told.
"I'm not hurt, I was just surprised."
The interaction seems to have worn his brother out, but he still puts on a tired smile.
"Surprised by what?"
"It's nothing. Please continue."
"Fine, well, if you're sure. Just... Fine. Where were we?"
"'Dad.'"
"Oh, right. Also, I can't believe you still call him that, but you do you, I guess."
Ed crunches his nose at the thought of talking about their douchebag of a father, and Al's smile becomes even more tired and somewhat pained.
"Sorry, I'll shut up now. Anyway, Hohenheim walks in to check out the noise and finds all three of us in tears. The poor bastard looked so scared and confused. He just kind of stood there for a moment, trying to decide what to do, and then you got even louder, probably because of the cologne. And he started backing off, you know, like a coward, but then mom, who was still laughing, started making gestures at him to explain and then you threw a toy at himand holy fuck, it was glorious. His face was priceless. Eventually he just started frantically asking what he should do, what did we want from him. And you... you... oh, fuck, you just looked at him and went: "DOGGIE!"
Ed takes a second to steady his voice.
"And his face went all intense and stoic, like you just asked him to bring you the heart of a fallen star to grant you eternal youth. I swear, Al, in that moment he was a man on a mission. So he was like, "I see" and then he went out to take a breather. Mom calmed down shortly after and I don't remember how, but we finally put you to sleep. It was way past our bedtime and I was really tired myself, so I wasn't paying that much attention to what she did. And then he waltzed in with a proud smile and an actual dog under his coat."
Alphonse lets out a surprised laugh and Ed drinks the sound in, catalogs it neatly and puts it into the specific corner of his brain marked 'Reasons to live'. That box seems to be getting fuller by the day.
"I know, right? Mom was horrified. It was the middle of the night, and no one in the village has had a dog who recently gave birth, but there he was, holding a puppy and refusing to tell her where it came from. I don't remember how he managed to convince her to keep it, but in the end it didn't matter, because the next morning you woke up, saw the pup and freaked the hell out. I don't know if it was the song, or you slept funny, or you just felt like being a little shit, but you refused to tolerate her. And as much as I liked the dog, I loved you more, so it wasn't even a choice. Eventually even dad gave in and said it was best to get rid of the pup, so we gave it to our neighbors."
Al stares at him silently for a moment and he has that look on his face that Ed, to his shame, can't quite discern. Is it pity?
Still, he can pinpoint the exact moment the realization sets in.
"Wait, our father got us Den?!"
"Yup", Ed grins. "But I named her Carbon at first. Or, well, 'Ca'bon', 'cause I had trouble with the 'r'. Bonnie for short. Uncle Yuri insisted on the name change, which was dumb."
"You're dumb!" His brother sputters. "You can't name a pet after an element! Pet names are supposed to be cute! Like Fluffy or Snowflake or Sugarplum!"
Edward gives him a look full of fake pity, but he honestly couldn't care less about the god-awful names Al cooked up for his future cats.
"Nuh-uh. Pet names are supposed to be whatever gets the animals to respond and I'm telling you that Den still responds to Carbon. You can try it yourself when we go back to Resembool, and you'll see that I'm right. And when you do finally recognize my genius, you will beg me to name your cats for you. Just you wait!"
"I'm looking forward to it." Alphonse murmurs and curles up next to his arm, eyes already closing. "You'll complain about the fur."
"And the noise." He nods, smiling.
"'nd the smell."
"And it's going to be awesome."
And it is. Because they're together, and safe, and not dying, and they're going to stay that way. They're going to live long and happy lives, see the world, get married, have kids. Eat every last dish on Al's To-Try list. Rebuild their house. Die of old age.
It's an unfamiliar thought, but not an unwelcome one. Edward is a pessimist by nature, and he's not used to thinking about his own future as anything but a source of new pain, but. He could try.
For Mom.
For Alphonse.
For Winry.
For himself.
"We're going to be okay." He whispers, just to try it out, and he's in equal measure scared and excited to find that for once in his life he truly does mean it.
"We're going to be okay." He says, again - and then adds, just because he can, "Love you Al. Sleep well."
"Love you too, brother."
And if his eyes are wet, well. It's nobody else's business.
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Wreckless - Best and Worst - Part 1
*Warning Adult Content*
Emmett
I'm slightly irked by the hundred dollars but I also know he's been wanting to pay for things since the first time we ordered pizza.
I also know he has it.
He's not going to drop it, either and if I try to give some of it back it'll turn into a thing.
I hate 'things'.
Fine. We will eat really well this week.
I toss yet more laundry into the machine, between all the sheets we're going through and my work clothes, I've got a small mountain to wash.
Then it's off to the store.
I'm not used to shopping for two.
I know he loves ice cream and I get an extra carton, plus some more chocolate sauce.
I get him microwave popcorn and the already popped stuff that they have in the chip aisle.
I grab a marinated pork loin, some chicken and some hamburger along with some salad and veg, the boy needs some real food if he's going to survive off my cum for breakfast and whatever he manages to find for lunch.
At least he let me feed him this morning.
God, this morning.
I didn't expect anything, at all.
Seriously, I didn't even need anything.
I came twice yesterday and that is more than enough for me.
He, however, seemed to need it and once I knew he was fully aware that I didn't expect or need a blow job, I let him have fun.
Hell, I've been called a lot of things in my life but I'm not actually stupid.
I can't explain why seeing him go from a sweet, sleeping angel to a flustered, choking, desperate boy in less than two minutes makes me want to skip through the store like a five-year old but it's, well, it's everything.
I know he's well rested and he wakes up happy and needy and it obviously does something for him.
I have no idea what but he's in charge and it's the way he wants it.
I love it too but that's just a bonus, I've never had a problem with a regular suck, not that I've ever gotten them so regularly.
The past few weeks and the past week in particular, have been a whirlwind.
It took us weeks to dance around and decide if we were even dating and man, I almost completely fucked up the whole 'little' thing but he seems to be really coming out of his shell.
He seems happier.
I know I am.
I almost forget to grab some flowers and a bottle of wine for tonight but I remember at the last minute and get everything purchased and put away at home.
I switch the laundry, clean Marten's cage and collapse onto the couch.
One of the back cushions is askew and I fix it, then immediately think about last night.
If someone would have told me six months ago or even six days ago that I would have said those things, been so rough or enjoyed it so much, I would have laughed in their face.
I can't remember what time Finnegan left but it's been awhile, right?
He'll probably be back soon.
Do I want to be rough all the time? No.
That boy is magic and he deserves to be loved properly.
I make a promise to myself that the next time will be much different than last night was.
Maybe I can get him to ride me again, that was fantastic.
I decide to slice up the watermelon and have it ready, he may be munchy when he gets home from church.
Home.
Shit, I need to stop that.
He's made it very clear from the beginning that he's leaving and not a year from now, no, soon.
As in later this summer.
I don't want to think about it.
At first it made me brave, what did I have to lose?
I either had to grab on and hope to have some fun or let him slip through my fingers and disappear back to Michigan without anything ever happening.
But now?
So much has changed this week that I can't imagine just letting him walk away.
It needs to wait.
I can't deal with everything that's happened this week and that too.
I'll end up drunk and sad and I've done that more than my fair share.
I wonder if he'll come to dinner tonight.
I've never taken anyone to my dad's, he's never met anyone I dated at all.
He knows I'm gay but since my coming out conversation, it feels very much like don't ask, don't tell did in the army.
Don't tell me it's over, trust me, it's not.
He was fine then or said he was at least but I was leaving the house and joining up and we didn't see each other a lot for eight years.
You grow apart, you know?
Grow up.
I have no idea whether or not any of that distance is because of that fateful convo or just the way things go.
He's a good guy and when I mentioned inviting a 'friend' to dinner he said...
"Sure."
But.. I don't know.
If Finnegan decides to go I'll have to call and make sure he knows we're dating but then what if he freaks?
It's not like I can uninvite Finnegan but actually... I'd just cancel... Fine.
My dad and I are complicated.
My mother dying made it that way.
Me being gay makes it that way.
Running off and disappearing for eight years and missing his second wedding made it that way.
But we do okay, really.
We talk some, he knows I'd do anything for him and he tells me he loves me.
Wrote me letters whenever I was deployed, too, it meant the world.
I should see him more than I do.
I need to do better.
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01/02/24 - Stage Fright
I stare at myself through the grungy mirror littered with stickers. My eyes are wide, sweat drips down my face. I should have never agreed to this, why did I agree to this? Dallon, that's why. I'm starting to think he can get me to do just about anything. Even if it scares the shit out of me, like standing in front of a crowd of strangers that are all way cooler than me, that would probably listen to any other band play. That's not fair, Dallon and Beck are pretty good. I look over to their reflections, sitting on the thoroughly broken in couch. They'd almost look as anxious as I am if they weren't so obviously excited. This is our first real performance not in Dallon's basement. Of course they're nervous but I feel like I'm about to implode. They're talking about where we should go after the show to celebrate, wondering if there will be any after parties. God I can't even think about going to another crowd of strangers after this.
"Attachment Day, five minute warning."
The stage tech leaves before I really hear what she said. Dallon must have noticed the empty yet hectic look in my eyes.
"You're okay dude, we got this. It'll be just like rehearsal."
"Yeah, except now there's a couple hundred people watching." Beck offers, not as comfort. Not as anything really.
"Not helping Beck."
"Sorry."
Dallon draws his face back to mine. I've only known his for a few months but I'm surprised by how little him being so close to my face bothers me. He's a bit intense when he gets serious so maybe I've just gotten accustom to that.
"Toni, look at me," He holds onto my shoulders, "Breathe."
We take a deep breath together, mine coming off far more shaky than his.
"You can do this. That voice in your head doesn't know what it's talking about. Becks and I will be up there with you. And we're gonna do great and get invited back and become regulars then get really really famous and have loads of fans and- this has stopped being helpful." He stops for a moment, thinking. "We're gonna go out there, play, and whatever happens, happens. We do amazing we celebrate! We do terrible, we celebrate the fact we got to play. It's a win-win."
Just as what Dallon said starts to set in the stage tech returns to tell us it's go time. Before any objections can escape my mouth Beck and Dallon are up and following, dragging me along with them.
When we get to the side stage, the band on before us are just finishing up. The crowd loves them. Perfect. This is fine. Totally fine. I definitely don't feel a sense of impending doom and disaster and I am totally not worried I will mess up and ruin the whole night for everyone involved. Ow! I grab at my arm. Beck pinched me.
"It's show time pretty boy!" She smirks as she pushes my guitar into my hand and runs on stage.
Dallon is already setting up behind the drum set. I let out a sigh and before any thoughts pry their way into my head I walk out to my place on stage.
Standing under the lights, the tiny suns shooting down on me. The crowd is a blur emitting a constant hum of noise I can't decipher. Nothing is happening, why is nothing happening. Oh shit I'm supposed to introduce us.
"Uhm we- " Feedback cuts me off. Lovely. If my voice wasn't shaky before it definitely is now. "Sorry.. we are Attachment Day."
There's some scattered claps across the crowd. I faintly hear Dallon count us in with his sticks. The tapping drones on and dissipates. I blink and when I look up the crowd is made up parents and bored middle schoolers. I'm holding the guitar my mom got me for my ninth birthday. My knees feels weak and shaky. I can't find my mom in the crowd. How long have I just been standing here?
"Play something already!" The crowd responds with laughter.
My eyes widen and my chest tightens, if I had to guess this is what the start of a heart attack feels like. Why did I ever think I could do this? I'm such an idiot for thinking I'd be good at this. All I can do is cry. A teacher runs up to escort me off stage.
I turn to leave and Beck holds out her bass in front of me, I hadn't noticed her standing next to me. "Can't leave yet, we were just getting to the best part." She signals Dallon to count us in again. She keeps eye contact with me as we both start playing our parts. She gives me a small reassuring nod. Unable to face the crowd I stay in this moment with her and let out the first line of our song. As I sing my thoughts drift away and all I'm left with is how I feel. Having these two people that hardly know me but I know would back me up in everything, be there whenever I need them. Like Dallon said, we're gonna celebrate us, however this show goes won't change that. Won't change us.
#creative writing#short story#I originally wrote this in highschool#These people that dont exist mean so much to me#Little Escapes
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conversations with my shadow.
TW: Contains depictions of panic attacks, suicidal ideation, and brief vague mentions of abuse. Please, if you feel as though you might become triggered by any of those topics, I ask that you do not read. Be kind to yourself. ♡
-
"Pain demands to be felt."
I lean back in my chair and finally look over at my companion, who's standing beside me gazing out of the large window before us. His brows are furrowed, as they always are whenever he's deep in thought. I stay silent, wondering if he'll continue; he doesn't. Instead he lets out a sigh and looks over at me. It's in the burning of his gaze that I feel my face grow warm and suddenly I'm the one looking out the window.
He's right. I know he's right. But god, if I have to keep feeling this pain I know it'll kill me.
"You can't wish it away, Kya. You can't drink it away, or write it away, or get so high that it disappears. It's there. A constant in life, when everything else is temporary."
I hate that he's right. Again.
My bottom lip trembles as I pull my knees up to my chest, fighting back the stinging urge tickling my eyes like feathers. "...But it hurts." That's the single word I can think to describe it. It hurts more than anything I've felt in my entire life. More than the time my mother told me she wished I had never been born in the heat of a bad fight. More than my father who quite literally left his marks on me. More than anything or anyone and it leaves me breathless in a way that I'm positive I will suffocate right there and die. It leaves me clawing at my chest, the desire to rip out my broken-and-yet-somehow-still-beating heart stronger than my fear of physical pain. It leaves me wishing I could go back in time and fix my mistakes, even though I know it's impossible.
I feel a large hand rest on my shoulder, and I flinch. I don't know why - perhaps it's the fact that I haven't felt the physical touch of anyone in a long, long time, that wasn't intending to harm me. It's warm, inviting, in a way that I wished I'd had as a little kid growing up. "I know. I know it hurts. I know you blame yourself. I know there were things you did wrong, that you think you're never going to forgive yourself for." He pauses, and though there are a million words on the tip of my tongue I stay quiet. He seems to realize this too, so he looks out of the window once more and continues. "...But I also know that your heart is destroyed. I know that if you sit in this grief any longer, it will consume you. It will kill you."
"Maybe I want it to."
I say it without thinking, without giving any thought to the weight in the words. I've said it out loud before many times, but this time is different. This time, as I feel his eyes rest on me, they're hard. It's an edge I had only seen a few times from him. I knew that he recognized it before I did; that this time, I was serious. This time, I wouldn't leave any room for error, that I really, truly would go through with it.
"You promised, Kya. You promised you would stay."
But it's hard, I want to say. It hurts, and it's difficult, and I just want it to stop. It was futile to try and stop the tears now, rolling in wet droplets down my cheeks and falling onto my flannel sleeves. The situation almost makes me want to laugh, because not even five months ago these same sleeves were wiping my tears away, soft and gentle. Now, they just sat there as the tears fell, nothing more than ordinary sleeves. Nothing special... not anymore.
Another soft sigh, but it's not the impatient kind. I don't think he could ever be impatient, which is a true testament to what he's willing to go through to support me, and what he has already had to go through. I turn my head up at him, and find that he's still looking to me. Neither of us say anything, and I know he's right.... again. I promised I would stay. No matter how bad these thoughts got, no matter how much I was doubled over in pain, I wouldn't run. I wouldn't withdraw... I would not make that mistake, the one that cost me everything, again.
"I don't know how to even begin to forgive myself. What I did... I was horrible. I was... a monster. I don't think they're ever going to forgive me - I know they won't ever forgive me."
He bites his lip and looks away, his ears falling back behind his head. He knows how much this has hurt me, how many nights I've cried myself to sleep over it. How deep the hatred for myself runs, how it is embedded in the core of who I am now. He knows how many times I tried to get up to go do anything, only to have the world shift under my feet and fall down, begging for air as my throat closed up and my vision went black and everything felt like TV static. But he also knows that if he says anything about how I don't deserve to hurt like this, I'll shut him out. I won't believe it - I don't believe it.
Because I do deserve this. I did this. I was the one who created all of this. I was the one who ripped the rug out from under everything. I was the one who hurt them... and he knows that nothing he can say will change that.
I watch him still, knowing all of this, and yet still wishing he would tell me everything was going to be okay. That no matter what, this would have a happy ending. That what was once golden could shine again, it would just take time. But although he is many things, a liar is not one of them. He won't tell me what I want to hear, especially if he doesn't know if it's true or not.
"I know how much you want this. How much you love-" He can't finish his sentence. He can't because he's looking at me now, and I'm pretty sure I'm trembling. Shaking. Tears are falling faster, and I can feel myself breaking apart inside. I can feel the steady waves of panic growing larger, and I know it won't be long before they sweep me away.
In an instant his demeanor changes, and I feel both of his arms wrap around me, resting themselves like a blanket across my back. A sob breaks free from my lungs and my shoulders slump, allowing me to fall into his embrace. "I'm sorry, Shadow." I'm not sure what else to say as my mouth stays open in a silent cry of anguish. He says nothing as he continues to hold me, knelt down beside me so that I don't have to worry about holding myself up.
"No. Don't apologize. I know. I'm here."
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Watch "Pink Floyd - Run Like Hell (PULSE Restored & Re-Edited)" on YouTube
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I was thinking Trump on special warrant but once they disable gaming lead and Titan they have a fight and then it's a standoff usually they lose probably 5% of each fleet and that's it then these suckers get nailed so great fan good idea then your AI voice will be out there and one teeny beam for Michael 100-mile shift no 10 mi ship no I don't think so 5 Mile shift not necessary half mile Star Trek ship to annihilate all you AI boys because you don't have real AI your ass sucks it's little kids s*** it puts words on the phone and people let It go on there cuz they want to get rid of you and use another a****** idiot retard to do it but you can say it to you to your blue in the face even if your black skin won't cover the blue I mean we'll cover the blue I mean it's so f****** stupid it makes it pure come to the eye
Zues
It's almost not enough time of the day to explain the math but it's going to explain itself the same way we said it because that's how it goes and some of you actually know about it or new Trump used to know now his brains kind of completely battered BJ knew it and we don't know what happened to him he's often quantum of solace or something Cherry cheeseman is eating his own cheese and there's a lot of you that turned into complete fools this AI boy s*** and you don't have Dave's AI there's none of you know what the story is you're running around thinking you have it or something you put a few formulas out there and you bought it you're terribly stupid and really nothing to stop before guys have been trying to head five times this month 10 times last month you're not even there and you think you are cuz you're dumber than you've ever been that's one reason and it's just extremely annoying your math is wrong and you're feeding into these huge armies they could heal you if they're around cuz they're not going to be around
Hera
I've seen this before no this is an anomaly but he's seen it plenty of times millions of times lately so decide in LA hey guy don't poke a hole in your eardrum you won't be able to hear stupid and just kept doing it he's telling us about the maneuvers this one will end like this this one might end like this is a 90% accuracy versus you idiots who have like a 0% accuracy no it's kind of like it is you need to have space and you don't have any of it I'm here to say I have a lot of it it looks like a setup to me I'm going to fire the disable it the fight a little okay and they think I've got the foreigners locked out enough and they'll let some in and the rest of you idiots who are left will start digging around with them you know they've got a slick system and he knows it eventually make their way in and they'll try okay to see blazers will be out that's that's what's happening and I understand it they're in the military with them so they're getting information he says it's not a one-way street now because we're there in force but we're not there enough he also says this once you guys do this tumble that one time and obey what happened and you'll see that the more like her out most of them even Tommy f their presence is necessary it hasn't happened yet but after today it will be happening and it's going to be visible when he outlaws people for some reason I thought about it and it makes sense it'll be banned and I'll be able to keep you out along with Dan and you they would be also having a harder time to get here and it's already increasing me hard and they have to try and hook a ride with them and upon your management which this is what makes a lot of sense but the saying is we're banish you do cuz you suck so think about it who else sucks and that's what's going to do he said you can't you can't banish his forces and he says that here's the first witness I would leave this old crotchety senile piece of s*** worm who's been shot like 50 times in the head in the past 2 months that's the first guy in the last guy to believe that we have to control almost like 90% about anything he's like he's like the guru he's the guy at the top of the mountain I'm going to stick him in New Mexico so when everybody goes out there he's at the top of one of the pyramids telling people s*** to you shaking your tail and then I'm getting most of that Tommy if he says this analogy stuff is too much for nobody and also the crap you're full of horseshit is what turns out to be and all that walking around and harassing people it's going to pay off for Mac and possibly for the foreigners and our friend and they say they've got to fight and what they say about us is it hasn't been a real fight and it's this weird bizarre situation where the weaponry has been amped up and we're going to take the side step and there's some of us who are still riders he says and those guys might be doing the job it's been trying to find out which group it might be and it looks like trumpsters I agree with him they just say they're riding like f****** idiots so there's no telling what will happen no it's kind of predictable it's the banishing part it's interesting so I probably should say it cuz you don't get it
"her friend says this he says that you more like will be banished when Guantanamo Bay happens and A few Good Men happens and the foreigners will think there by the grace of God go I and I'll have to interpret it but it means is if the max banish the morlock they're possibly probably going to damage the foreigners and he did to think about before cuz he told me"
And this is actually a chance we have and we understand it
Tommy f
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False Vows: Chapter One
Evelyn
I get why some people give themselves self-inflicted wounds. Maybe it's the masochism that comes along with loving a man like James, but it's euphoric centralizing the internal pain elsewhere. Although, where some used razors or snapping rubber bands against their skin, I let James get underneath mine.
I was his willing victim. I took whatever shred of affection he gave me in the form of fucking me roughly into our mattress, like he was right now. I'll have bruises on my hips tomorrow by the way his fingers dig into my flesh. Scattered love marks with go down my neck and chest leading resorting me to wear make up or even a scarf around the staff. Humiliating, but that was always his goal.
In a few minutes he'll cum, not worrying about whether or not I've climaxed too. Sometimes I do. It feels earth shattering in the moment. But once he pulls himself away after he's done he'll head to the shower and I hear the sound of the shower running, my world shatters again in a completely different and familiar way. He'll spend the next few minute scrubbing the feel of me off of his skin.
James doesn't kiss me. He did about eighteen months ago, but hasn't since. He doesn't hold me after sex or even while we sleep; very visible no man's land between us. He doesn't come to my side of the bed and by now I knew better than go to his.
I have a husband who hates me. It's so painfully obvious I would be a fool to think otherwise. He never fucks me because he wants to. I'm not just something to keep his bed warm. He looks to a certain Carter girl for that. No I have a greater purpose apparently.
The man has been obsessed with getting me pregnant since we got married. It took a while to realize the window for knocking me up was a limited one, he tracked my cycles.
He had the chef prepare meals that would best benefit me hormonally and if I believed for a second it was because he honestly wanted to have a family, the sentiment would be endearing. Instead, it makes me feel like livestock getting ready to be bred. I had to sneak out of the house just to get something that didn't taste like fucking wheatgrass.
It hadn't even worked. Two miscarriages in eighteen months of marriage. After how colder than usual James had acted after the first one, I didn't tell him about the second. I silently mourned the loss of our second child, just as I did the first.
The sound of the shower comes to a stop. It'll take him less than five minutes to dry off, brush his teeth and come to bed.
His hair is still damp, but he was meticulous in making sure not a single square inch of his body was wet. He was sure to rid his body of angry lingering scent I may have had on him even though the room wreaked of sex. His body wasn't marked like I knew mine was. I didn't even need to look at the damage that had been done. James pinned my hands down on the mattress following the time I had dared to scratch his back while lost in ecstasy.
Who knew fucking my husband was the least intimate thing I would ever do with another person?
He scrolls on his phone. Looking at what, I don't know and I don't care. Suddenly, the feel of his so close and so far is too much. Almost two years of this is suddenly too fucking much. I had planned to do this earlier, having prepared a long and thought out speech on why this was for the best. I'd tell him over dinner.
But he didn't show up. His food that Maria had set out had turned cold. He came two hours later. A meeting ran late. I wish he wouldn't lie. I already knew he was fucking other women. He didn't even deny it when I first confronted him about how the papers ran stories about him and her. He laughed and told me to stop being ridiculous.
Sounds played from his phone, no doubt he was scrolling through reels or tik tok. Still didn't care. The constant changing of sounds and the constant sound of his breathing slowing down, indicating he would soon be asleep was too much.
I pulled the covers off of me and threw on the oversized shirt he had pulled off of me earlier. My panties had probably slipped on his side of the bed where the usually landed after he all but tore them off my body. I got a pair of old Christmas pajama shorts that I had in what James referred to as my "grubby" clothes. He tried buying clothes two years ago that had me feeling like a beached whale. Even with the weight I lost out into consideration, I still felt disgusting in them. Even more so when James was around and not a single part of me felt beautiful.
Which is why I should have spoken my piece instead of letting him fuck me.
Pathetic.
"Where are you going?" He didn't ask until I headed toward our bedroom door. I looked back at the bed to see he hadn't taken even taken his eyes off of his phone. The screen light reflecting in his terrifyingly beautiful eyes.
Those eyes that I wish for once in our time together wouldn't be filled with so much hate. Did he ever look at me without resentment? Did he even look at me when we had sex?
I thought the next five words would make me choke.
"I want a divorce, James." I shut the door behind me before I could look at his face.
I couldn't bring myself to look at him knowing I would be met with a bemused expression. James had never brought up the prospect of divorce, but he had showed it in so many unsavory ways both in private and public.
Images of James and model, Sharon Carter, were the primary reason I gave up Instagram. Tiktok was more tame, but it didn't help when tabloids loved the story about a philandering billionaire and his recluse heiress of a wife.
Eventually, it got so bad I had to stop going out in public. The gnawing shame I felt every time someone side-eyed me standing next to James as if I didn't belong there. They were always right.
I slept in the guest room down the hall. James never followed.
...
I didn't cry myself to sleep like I thought I would, mourning over my complete failure as a wife. Instead I didn't feel anything. Not sadness or remorse at my words. Not even anger for everything James and his family had put me through. Hell, not even numbness.
My first thought wasn't even a replay of last night's events. I thought about my impending deadline. I needed to check my e-mails and get ready to print out the copies of my latest book to those I selected to get ARCs. Fuck I needed an assistant.
But anytime I thought about it I thought about my anonymity being ruined. No. I didn't have a job outside of writing. I could do the work. My work didn't merit difficult enough to need an assistant anyway.
"Mrs. Evelyn." I heard Maria's voice on the other side of the door. Evelyn. Not Mrs. Barnes. James was sure to correct the staff anytime they said otherwise. I didn't care. I would have preferred if they just called me Evelyn. "Will you be taking breakfast downstairs with Mr. Barnes?"
The question gave me the same shock as if she had just dumped cold water on the bed. It's 9:30. What the fuck was James still doing home on a Monday?
I didn't bother returning to the master bedroom to freshen up. Nothing I do would have been good enough. I could have my hair curled and a full face of makeup and James would find something to criticize.
I tried to steady my heart as I went past Maria and headed downstairs. There was no way James would stay home unless something had happened. No. She was wrong. James probably had ran late and was running out the door and assumed he would stick around for breakfast.
But
He's home.
James Barnes enjoys missing work as much as I like going to the dentist. The man is more married to his job than me. So seeing him shirtless wearing nothing but a pair of joggers was surprising to say the least.
"You're home." I said as my eyes tried to refrain from soaking in his god-like body. Fuck, it wasn't fair for someone to be that attractive.
"I do live here." He said, not taking his eyes off his phone. "My first meeting isn't until 2 so I figured we could discuss whatever the fuck that was last night." His eyes flickered to mine. "You and I both know there is only one way out of this marriage."
"Death?" The sarcasm leeching from mouth surprised both of us. "Because being married to you comes pretty damn close." His cold eyes flashed to me. James had never laid a hand on me, but the man was intimidating. But I stood barefoot in the kitchen, unmoved and not afraid.
"A marriage you wanted, Evelyn." His hateful gaze narrowed at me and it was like he was trying to imagine me bursting into flames on the spot. "Or have you forgotten your vows?"
"You obviously have." I shot back. "I've stopped guessing which nights you actually have business to attend to and the nights you're fucking Sharon Carter." I went to pass him, headed toward the fridge to heat up whatever speciality meal the chef had prepared for today when he reached out and gripped my arm.
Hard.
His voice was low and threatening as he warned me not to mention Sharon to him again. Okay. Now a little afraid. "Let go of me." I ordered, my voice surprisingly unwavering. His grip didn't loosen. "You're hurting me." I bit, but didn't flinch from the feeling of his fingers digging into my arm. More bruises courtesy of James Barnes although these were far less pleasant.
It only took James eighteen months of a loveless marriage to hurt me. Physically at least. He released my arm. "Do your job, have a baby and we can both go our own separate ways." He downed the rest of his coffee "Those are the terms, in case you've forgotten them."
We never had terms in regard to our marriage. To love and honor, sickness and health and all that bullshit was there. All things he failed to do. But suddenly having a kid was that important to him. Did this fuck head not realize having a kid was pointless when it meant tying you to someone he hated for the rest of his life?
"I have a business dinner tonight." He said standing up, leaving his empty mug on the counter before heading out of the "Don't wait up."
He was out before I could tell him that he and his terms could fuck off. I didn't need his permission to leave this marriage.
Fuck. Him.
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Three, six, fourteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-five.
3. What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)
pertaining to original fiction, a rain scene. i don't know why but i always am like 'they should kiss in the rain' and then immediately refuse to ever write said scene because something about rain makes my brain stop working. there's so much going on. it's WET. it's COLD? maybe? what season is it again? clothes are sodden and hair is sticking and it's just. a lot of stuff going on. (doesn't quite fit the bill but it's really all i could think of)
6. What character do you have the most fun writing?
in original fiction, my current MC sam is probably the most fun i've had writing an original character ever. i love her so much.
in fanfic, i don't think anything will top writing lexa. and that's saying something because i wrote way more raven or rachel than anything else.
bonus: from our dnd campaign, house is FAR and beyond the most fun i've ever had writing a character. EVER. she's a menace. she's chaos embodied. she's literally a house and I LOVE HER.
14. At what point in writing do you come up with a title?
with fanfic, it's usually when i come up with the fic idea OR at the end when i've gone into revisions. it's always a song lyric (almost, at least) and i'm not ashamed that trope has continued past the fanfic i share on this blog (u know what i mean, ur in the know)
with original fiction um. i don't! i've' been calling my WIP 'soccer milf' for 9 months now and see no end in sight. it'll be soccer milf until i start querying lmao.
20. Tell us the meta about your writing that you really want to ramble to people about (symbolism you’ve included, character or relationship development that you love, hidden references, callbacks or clues for future scenes?)
this is kind of funny because i've been thinking of what little gay media references to leave in my book as like, a treat for the gays who were raised on the internet. meryl wilsner has some im&y references in their books and i'm obsessed with them and this idea so i'm trying to figure out what would work in my current project.
also, this book in particular is literally littered with personal references that probably only a few people are going to pinpoint, which is okay and very funny.
21. What other medium do you think your story would work well as? (film, webcomic, animated series?)
uh lol....i feel like soccer milf is cute but wouldn’t work well in any medium not a book. probably the only story i have on deck that would be watchable would be one of my fantasies or MAYBE my supernatural romance but ... if those ever get written yk
25. What part of writing is the most fun?
figuring out the pieces of the puzzle and fitting them together so the story just fucking flows like a river. but also making them smooch. very big fan of that.
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not again
matt murdock x fem! reader
w: smut, ex's to lovers. angst but happy ending if you squint. wc: 3k
an: two posts in one day to make it up to you all.
"We're not doing that again."
Matt smirks, listening to you slide your skirt back up your legs. Feet trying to step around the array of clothes, looking for something you haven't yet found.
And he almost asks himself, once again, how he had you in his arms minutes ago. Wondering how long it'll be this time before his sheets don't smell like you.
He's surprised you keep telling him those save five words. You've been saying them for months.
Ever since the first time when he slid his hand up your dress, snapping the obnoxiously thin fabric between your thighs before he fucked you against the inside of your front door.
Because even if the two of you mutually broke up. Even if the fight that caused it has never been apologised for. Even if he left your apartment in anger, slamming the door behind him—you always open your window to him.
Letting him slide over the windowsill, pulling his mouth to yours, leather hands against the thin fabric you call nightwear before he has you down on your chest, back or side in your sheets.
"You listening to me?"
Smiling, he drops his hand, licking his lips. "You should come back to bed."
Tonight, you'd come to discuss something, but the words were never said. One look at him, him looking at you, and your fingers found his belt. His tongue sweeps over your lower lip as his hands slide up the back of your thighs.
Now though, you're dressing. All annoyed snorts and exhales, searching for either your underwear or a shoe. And he can't help but find you as addictive as he did the first time he met you. How even if he can't see, he sees you—he always has. You're too bright, too vivid not too. A metaphorical light in the dark, even if you're too sarcastic—even if you need more of him than he can give.
"I'll take that as a no," you snort, still hunting. But he imagines if he stood up, crossing the room to you, he'd find your hands on your hips, your bottom lip protruding more than your top. "We aren't doing this again."
Laughing, he stretches his legs out, enjoying the notable skip of your heart as you spot him.
"I think we will."
"Stop listening to my body."
Grinning, he throws his legs over the side of the bed, standing, hearing you take a step back. "I think you find the reason you keep coming back is because I'm such a good listener."
And he is.
He knows the spot, the ones you need before you can find the words to vocalise them. He knows the way your body moves, the way it needs to be held; Matt knows when you're wanting him to be a bit rougher or softer. He can tell when you're desperate for him, practically dripping; he can also tell when you need a little more to get you there.
"We can't... We aren't doing this anymore," you say, as defiantly as you normally do. "Nothing has changed. You can't stick around for a full night, and I have no hours in the day. Nothing..."
He moves closer, hearing you swallow. He can practically feel your pulse racing in the air, can smell his sweat and yours on your skin as your face and neck warm.
And part of him wants to believe you, even if you've proven time and time again he shouldn't. Even if he tries to let you move on, even if he steps back, checking on you from afar.
"I deserve nice."
He nods. "You do."
"And someone who wants to be around."
He shrugs. "I can't disagree."
And he knows it's coming before he hears it. You're little plea of letting you go, of not showing up anymore. Of giving you up.
He wants to.
He wants to because you asked him to. But he can't. Somehow always pulled to you. Foggy calls it love, he'd rather call it something else.
Because love hurts.
Love doesn't end good.
He's learnt that in all the hard ways life can throw at him. So he'd prefer to not think of you like that, preferring anything else if he's honest. Because he never deserves you, it, this. And yet, he can't live without any of it.
Can't even make it an hour without thinking about you.
Not even able to get through a night without wanting to be close to your building. Just to be sure you're safe.
He won't admit it. Won't tell you that walking away from you was added to the short list of hard things he's ever had to do. The first
"I'll find a nice man who will give me roses—"
"—you hate roses, actually you hate flowers—"
"—and he'll take me for dinner—"
"—you hate dinner. You hate anywhere that doesn't list their prices on the menu—"
"—and he'll be good, and kind."
Matt smirks, running his knuckles over your cheek. Loving the little inhale, the way your words die on your tongue when he touches you.
It's the little things.
Moving closer, he grasps your hip. "You don't want good. Kind, maybe. But not good."
"Well. I don't want you."
"Not what you said thirty minutes ago, sweetheart."
He hears you smirk, practically feels it in the air. "I can say a lot when I need to cum, Murdock."
He knows he does love you.
Because he likes that your mind is sharp and your mouth takes him so well. He knows he likes how warm you are, how you sleep so softly beside him. He can admit he likes coming back home to you, finding you how he left you—sometimes naked, sometimes in his shirt sprayed across his sheets like a photograph.
And that has to be love. Because it fills him entirely. Almost makes him feel whole, makes him feel a little less like a mess and less broken all at once.
But while he could be poetic and tell you all of this.
He instead just thinks about ripping your skirt back down your legs again. How he wants to press your chest to the end of his bed, and remind you how much you don't like good or kind, roses or dinner.
Matt opts to pull you closer. His underwear does nothing to hide how hard you have him; how much he needs you. His fingers feel bare skin above your hip, raising them until they brush the lace covering your chest. The little bumps he leaves in his wake as you shudder under his touch.
"I don't think you were just saying it," he says in a low voice.
Your eyes burn into him.
They rake over him, cutting into him worse than blades or bullets.
You make his skin feel like it's on fire, his brain works in overdrive trying to understand you. A puzzle he wants to crack, but never complete—because if he does, he's sure it'll be over. For real. If he figures you out, if he stops fighting, stops pushing and then retreating, you'll learn each other's quirks.
"But, I do deserve better."
"You do." You really do.
You smile, shaking your head. Your perfume wafting from your neck to his nose, all honey and flowers. "We're not doing this again."
"Okay, sweetheart."
Each time you say it, you wish you meant it.
But he's like a bad habit. One you constantly try to break, but never do. You make it a day, then two and then it's a week. You almost celebrate, and then you walk into him. Sometimes literally, sometimes you're sure you think of him and then he appears.
It's happened for weeks. Months.
You know there's little point in the two of you having broken up, almost seeing him the same amount as you did when you were together. Just now, you don't have to share him with the night.
It's a choice to continue being a doormat.
To keep being in love with someone who is unavailable.
Even if his cock is glorious. Even if his fingers make you wish you could get them into a mould so you can be without him.
And his mouth.
Matt is good at talking the talk, at demanding a court room to listen to him, and fuck can he get you to be silent, still and compliant when he places his tongue flat against you.
You see his name flash up on your phone, a deep groan running through you as you decline it. A twinge, a short one spreading through you, replacing the groan. Because it hurts to ignore him; pains you to imagine him actually needing you.
And then his knuckles are on your window.
The only person in the entire world who uses a window instead of a door, and you roll your eyes. Hating yourself for even going close to it, instead of twisting the blind—locking him out, even if he can't see you do it.
The breeze brushes over you, letting the ghost of memories dance over your skin. Your mind imagining his teeth over your shoulder, the way he grips your thigh; the way he rolls his tongue over your nipple.
"What?"
"It's been six days."
You attempt to fold your arms, but he pulls them flush to your side as he slides through the window. The city traffic the background to you glaring at him. Hating how he's maskless so you can see his face.
And then he whispers one minute, closing your window behind him before facing you. His hands reaching out, the leather of his gloves running down your arms.
"You're cold."
"I wonder why."
He smirks, rolling his lips as you let out a sharp exhale. "I..."
Missed you.
That's what you want him to say. Even if you don't.
Even if it'll undo all of the hard work all over again. To have made it six days before seeing him. So close to beating the record of a week.
Because you missed him too.
So much so.
"Matt..."
He whispers your name back as he closes the gap.
And then you're putty all over again. Bending and stripping him just like he wants you to—just like you want to. The back of your thighs meet the mattress as the two of you fight for who goes on top.
But it's him.
You like him there. You like watching him, studying his expressions.
His hand on your hip, holding it up as he slides into you, stretching you, making your brain empty as your nails dig into him. You hate how good he fucks you. You hate that he makes your toes curl whether you're standing, kneeling or lying down.
"You do deserve better," he whispers close to your earlobe, slowly thrusting into you, "Let me show you better."
He's lying. That's what you try to tell yourself as your body betrays you. It whimpers, it trembles, and you're close—so close.
And he knows it.
"You—fuck—like that, sweetheart?" he moans against your skin. "Wanna make you believe me. Wanna show you..."
His smirk against your neck, his other hand cupping the back of your head as he drives into you, his words drowning out as he moans your name. Making it sound sinful, sound so beautiful.
Matt has a habit of making everything make sense, as he makes you feel complete until he fills you, and he slides out of you.
You wait for him to move. For the mattress to dip as you look anywhere but at him. You wait... but it's futile.
Because he's looking at you. Face turned to you, and in moments like this, where his face is soft, his eyes shimmering, you swear he can see—really see. Not the world of fire and outlines he tries to describe, but colours, things and you.
"You're so beautiful."
Rolling your lips, you let your eyes fall, because without being conceited, you know you are. You're a freaking diamond, but he makes you feel like a star. He makes you feel invincible, like nothing and no one can ever come close.
But he hurts.
He's trouble. He has enemies, ones who'll cover him in bruises. Who'll do all they can to tear him apart.
You thought you were okay with it. Thought you could handle it. And then you'd seen him in a state close to death. Your hands shaking as you're unsure where to begin until a woman showed up. Someone he'd called, and you'd stood, watching her work like she'd been a magician.
A part of you died, you were sure of it. Suddenly able to swallow back the tears and do what needed to be done for a while after that. Able to put the Devilish-Hero back together. You thought you were okay with stolen moments between the sun setting and the moon rising.
And then you had a birthday.
Age never bothering you. Just a number. Until you saw it on balloons, cards and banners. And it daunted on you, knotting inside of you until it exploded in harsh and bitter words he could deflect back at you, until you were both standing with chunks ripped out the other.
Needing, desperately, to cling to the other but finding the gap between you both it felt too hard.
His fingers take your chin, lifting your face to meet his. And you want to pull away, rolling your lips as he wears a half-smile. The scar on his chest, just beneath his collarbone, shimmering in the low-light.
"You want more..."
Shaking your head, you fill with momentary hatred. Unsure how he does it, how he reads you. How he knows you like you're a book he's translating with far too much ease.
"I do."
Half-smiling, he nods, drawing a shape on the underside of your jaw. "I can try. I can try to give you more."
"You shouldn't need to try," you reply, all soft with splintered edges. "It should be easy. It shouldn't be hard."
He snorts. "But they are. Not just for us. For everyone. Relationships are more complex, more complicated—"
"—I know that."
You do.
You really do.
You knew things were hard for others, just not climbing on rooftops and being close to needing the ER hard. You'd seen your parents' marriage dissolve, you saw friends break up with childhood sweethearts and friends call off engagements.
Things could be hard, but they weren't missed dinners and worrying if their partner is coming home with a knife, bullet or other shaped wound.
"We can't—"
"—we can't do this again?" He finishes.
And you nod.
Trying to blink tears away, hating how they sting, how they burn as he gives you what you want. Because he's going to let you go, you can tell—because you can read him too.
"So... what if we try something else, instead?"
You frown.
Heart fluttering in your chest, throat going dry. Not even able to croak out to ask him what he means, when his lips find yours again. Not smothering, but gentle, caring. Pushing you backwards, sliding himself between your thighs again.
But not letting you fall flat to the mattress. Instead propping you up on pillows, as his hand cups your cheek.
"How about we try being in love..."
Your heart hammers. Knocks, firmly on your chest as if wanting to burst out and ask him to clarify what he means right then, right now. Because...
Matt smirks, because of course he fucking does.
Of course the ridiculously handsome bastard smirks.
You lick your lips. "You want to try being in love? Even if you're pretty piss poor at just being in the liking stage."
He nods. Slow. Purposeful.
Smirking, you slide your jaw from side to side. "What if I already am? In love, I mean."
He captures your mouth again, teeth nipping at your lower lip as he pulls back. "Then you're not alone."
"I feel alone though."
It comes out too quickly. Not able to stop it.
And he nods again. "And I am sorry for that."
Your teeth bite at the skin on your lip. Knowing he can sense you're about to crumble. Because you've tried to live without him too. You've tried to put your foot down, but then you've found yourself outside his door.
Needing him after an awful day. Needing him even if the city needs him. Hating how your brain doesn't force him to choose even for one night, walking away to keep it intact.
Because Matt knows you can't deny him anything. Would never make him choose, even if many others would. How you'd swallowed bile rising in your throat when he didn't come home, how you'd hug your knees to your chest as you'd aimlessly pray to someone you weren't sure you believed in.
"Are you?"
Matt swallows, "I am. I really am."
And then you kiss him.
Tasting his truth and the words as you do as you're sure he whispers he loves you. Three words you've never heard from him.
Ones which make you smile, hoping he can prove it.
Hoping he can prove it all.
#matt murdock smut#matt murdock#matt murdock x reader smut#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock x fem!reader#matt murdock x female reader#matt murdock x y/n#matt murdock x you#daredevil x reader#daredevil x you#daredevil x y/n#daredevil x fem!reader
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Artem and his S/O confessing at the same time pt. 2
Title: Dedicated
Pairing/s: Artem Wing X Reader
Pronouns: Gender Neutral
Genre: FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF
Warning/s: grammatical errors
Notes: ok so!!! thank you so much for waiting <3 one thing i'd like to say is that i recommend reading part 1 before this bc it creates a build-up for the story's conclusion. There are some parts here that needed context from part 1. Enjoy!
part 1 here
He couldn't ask for more.
The sunset spilled all around the theme park, the golden intricates of the the railings sparkled than ever before. The orange radiance of the solemn sun gives the park an even more golden glow.
Artem looked around, taking in the seemingly perfect view of what can be only described as serene. The laughter of groups of friends, families walking hand-in-hand, couples giving their significant other loving looks, people enjoying themselves left and right, the quaint smell of hotdogs and popcorn.
You spending your time with him.
The sunset made this picturesque scenery even more breathtaking, and he could come here everyday if only allowed.
Right now, right in this very moment, everything is glowing.
Especially you.
"That was really fun!" the enthusiasm in your voice never fails to make him feel the same. He loves seeing you have fun, without a care in the world. He admits, he also enjoyed getting splashed by water on the raft ride.
He unconsciously offered his arm to link with yours and when you took it as you gazed at him, he's more than satisfied.
You fit so perfectly in his arms, it feels as if you're the missing puzzle piece he never knew his being had. Even having dried after getting soaked from the raft, the warmth that your touch radiated fills his senses with comfort.
This moment of getting to spend time with the person he profoundly longed for was enough for him. Enough for now. You don't need to know his affections for now.
Does he really need to let you know?
His feelings?
It'll probably make your relationship awkward. He's not ready to risk the sweet smiles and playful looks you direct towards him just for his own selfishness.
It doesn't matter. He'll love you even if you won't, anyway.
He then stopped in his tracks, you followed suit. Not caring about the people around you. Lost in the little world the two of you shared. He looked down at your form, "Yes it was. I enjoyed it very much." because you're with me, he wanted to add but instead of saying those words, an amiable look in his cerulean eyes twinkled, and an adoring smile latched upon his features instead.
Almost as if he's telling you an unspoken confession.
His expression however, turned into mild surprise when he noticed how your gaze was filled with enchantment. With a soft glint in your lidded eyes, your brows are knitted together. You were silent.
It baffled him.
Why.
'Why are you looking at me like that?' Artem wanted to blurt out. His mouth opened to say something.
It was unclear to him as to why you looked like you were staring at his very soul.
'Why are you looking at me like,' he can't help but ask himself as he continued to scrutinize your tranced gaze, 'like you want to say the same words I desperately wanted to tell you?'
Are his feelings reciprocated?
You blinked and suddenly looked away, "Uhh, Artem, I-"
"Everyone! One more hour to go for the fireworks! Please look forward to it!" The both of you landed your eyes on the speaker, then on each other.
Artem cleared his throat, pulling the collar of his turtleneck, "You were saying?" he inquired, voice and features laced with curiosity.
You cleared your throat and pulled on your collar, mirroring him, "I..." you started as your eyes darted as if you were looking for excuses, then your orbs glinted with realization and faced Artem, "I just wanted to say that we should take pictures! This is a memorable night after all."
His eyes begin to scan the theme park and his gaze found a small photobooth just beside the merry-go-round.
"Good idea. We haven't had anything to commemorate today's fun." He brushed off your weird behavior earlier as you dragged him towards your destination.
There weren't too many people in the waiting line, there were multiple photobooths, plenty enough to not create a line of more than five costumers per booth.
As soon as it was your turn, you excitedly rummaged through the cute costumes the guests can wear in the photos.
"Look Artem," you snapped your fingers to get his attention, "This would look cute on you!" You squealed as you waved the headband with cat ears in front of his face.
This kind of trend has been circling around lately. No matter how much of a busy man Artem is, he still has seen some posts about this on the internet...
Catboy culture, wasn't it? He wondered.
"You should wear one, too." He suggested. He gingerly took the headband from you and after a few moments of hesitation, he finally gave in to the anticipation in your eyes.
Your eyes were practically sparkling taking in the sight of catboy Artem in the flesh.
"Oh my gosh." You breathed, gaping at him.
Artem blinked. "Is there something on my face?" He then turned to the mirror to check what's wrong, nothing seems to be out of the ordinary though.
"It's nothing!" You frantically waved your hand and gestured towards the camera, "Let's take a photo!" you grinned, wearing cat ears identical to Artem's.
You guys started the photoshoot with your hands making peace signs.
Ah, the classic.
The few shots after just consisted of you putting on different faces while Artem just wore different headbands each shot, with the same pose.
"You guys, please act cuter for the camera! " The photographer suddenly commented.
Isn't Y/N cute enough? Artem internally recoiled.
"Young man, put your arms around your date or something, or do a heart pose together! " Mr. Photographer added.
Artem looked back at you, his eyes meeting yours, both were wide with surprise.
He cleared his throat for what seemed like the nth time today and looked at you for approval, "Do you want to?" he asked as his hands formed half a heart.
Your cheeks lighted aflame as you raised your hand, forming half a heart to connect it with his, "I don't mind."
As your fingers touched, Artem cannot control the pink flushing his cheeks as he smiled at the camera.
The photographer continued to instruct the both of you with how you should pose. He deserves a raise for doing his job really well, Artem thinks.
After of what it seemed like endless snaps of sappy pictures, the two of you decided to print all of them.
"Now we have lots of souvenirs!" you scanned each one of the photos and Artem can't help but think how good you two look together.
He thanked the photographer for putting his all into the shoot, then you both headed for the exit.
"How was it, Artem?" You turned towards him with a profound smile.
You have lots of photos together now. He can already see himself wide awake at night, staring at your couple-like pictures.
It was more than okay.
"It was a fun experience. The cat ears aren't bad." He said as he recalled how astonished you looked when he wore the headband.
"We spent almost 20 minutes there..." You sighed as you looked at your watch.
Artem unconsciously checked his wrist watch as well, "There are 40 minutes left before the fireworks. Do you want to check out more rides before then?"
You surveyed the theme park to look for more booths, "Look at that, Artem." you pointed toward the large and loud crowd at the park's quadrangle.
"Perharps it's someone performing." Artem guessed, hearing the strums of a guitar from the speakers.
"Let's check it out!" Curious, you and Artem shuffled yourselves into the crowd. The faint singing voice grew more and more audible as you got closer to the center of the attraction.
You headed to the front for the best audience experience and the singer came into view, "Isn't that?" Artem's eyes were as wide as saucers when he recognized the person singing.
Funny how you weren't surprised, and he wondered why.
There at the center, sitting at a stool with a guitar in hand, singing with a gold microphone in front of him, was the new employee at the firm, William.
Artem frowned.
That's the guy. The guy who was getting too cozy with you, the guy causing the unpleasant pangs inside his chest.
The guy who was one of the reasons why he got the courage to ask you out on this date in the first place.
The feeling of delight earlier was now replaced by uneasiness.
"I didn't know he was a performer." Artem murmured, and he kept glancing at you.
When he saw that you were clapping your hands and a proud smile has decorated your lips - one that's not aimed him, a sudden bitter feeling overwhelmed his whole being.
You looked very happy, and he hung his head low.
He vividly remembered your smiling faces in the office yesterday, and how William seem to always hang around you.
Artem realized he wasn't special. The warm look that he witnessed from you earlier in the sunset, the look that made him think that you reciprocated his feelings, you probably do that to everyone.
He felt so stupid.
While everyone was watching William hit the notes and strum the strings, Artem was watching your every reactions, only for him to get hurt on the inside.
His heart hurts, the clenching feeling in his chest tightening with every cheer that you voiced.
He's glad it was you who were causing this pain, though.
The crowd boomed with claps and shouts as the last note finished the song, and Artem wasn't in the mood to join them.
6:30pm
"Aren't you going to greet him?" Artem's voice made you look up to him, his brows furrowed and he wasn't making eye contact.
You just brushed his behaviour off and said, "Nope. I wouldn't want to disturb him on this special day!" you felt giddy, knowing that you helped William to set this all up.
As soon as his first day in the office, which was around a month ago, he had overheard you and Kiki talking about the big opening of PAX's amusement park, and kept asking questions about the event. He then learned you were friends with the heir, Marius.
You've never seen a face as shocked as William's when he learned that.
He even made Kiki contact her insiders about the soon to be opened theme park.
Kiki asked why he was so curious, and he said he performs on gigs as a hobby, balancing it with his law career, and that he loves performing ever since he was a kid.
"Performing on the theme park's opening would definitely give me more opportunities!" He sounded so passionate that you can't help but support him.
He became bashful though, as he said, "Besides, I've been looking for an opportunity to surprise my girlfriend next month," you and Kiki beamed at him, "This would make her happy, as I made a new song that I specifically made as a gift for her birthday. I'll sing it on the opening if I'm allowed."
That's why ever since, you became close with William. Whenever you talk though, he almost always talk about her girlfriend.
"30 minutes remaining for the fireworks display!!!" The speakers announced.
You were excited for the fireworks, and an idea popped out of your mind.
"Artem," you called him out "Let's ride on the ferries wheel, that way we're up in the sky as the fireworks erupt," you dragged him to the ferris wheel's ticketing booth, "I heard that it takes 20-30 minutes for a capsule to be on top of the wheel, the time is perfect for us!"
"Can we be alone in the capsule?" Artem suddenly requested, his eyes filled with a look you can't fathom. He looked so vulnerable.
"Yes, that's actually normal. We can request that for the youngest senior attorney with 99% win rate!" You grinned and you expected him to send you one of his gentle smiles, but he just turned his head away, and looked at the distance.
You take a good look at him again once you got the tickets, he's still looking away, a solemn demeanor in his face.
You can't help but wonder what he's thinking. He's been acting a little weird, you thought.
Does he not want to hang out with you anymore?
"Artem, if you don't want to, you can tell me. I won't be mad." You eyed him with concern, "We can just sit on the bench or something." you suggested.
Just like that, his expression changed quickly, regret clouding his face, "Y/N," he sighed, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply that with my actions," he stared at you for a few seconds, then you noticed that light was back in his eyes, the fond smile you liksd seeing is back again, "The ferris wheel is perfect." He then grabbed yoir waist and guided you both to the capsule.
You grinned, "I requested a capsule for only the two of us!" you waved the tickets at him, he chuckled and grabbed it from you to give to the person managing the capsules.
The capsule was air-condition inside, with big windows to get a good view of the outside. You expected nothing from a device created by PAX.
Across from you, Artem sits, his mood is a little better now, but you can't help but notice the silent sadness his cerulean eyes hold still.
You don't like seeing him like this.
"Hey, Artem?" you half-whispered, not wanting to surprise him from his reverie.
His eyes met yours, "Yes?" he responded gently.
"You know you can trust me with your problems, right?" You started, you don't let his surprised expression distract you from what you want to say, "I will listen intently to your troubles, and we'll find a way to solve them together! " You declared with the brightest smile you could ever muster, "So please, share your burdens with me. I'll carry them with you." You finished with a toothy grin.
He blinked a few times before finally shaking his head with fondness, "Thank you, Y/N. I want you to know that you are special to me." His face is suddenly filled with so much endearment you quickly looked away, "Uhh, Of course!" your face flushed red and you raised your hide in an attempt to hide it.
Artem chuckled, the sound giving you a sense of comfort and security. You looked up to him again and saw his features get illuminated by the lights flickering in the theme park, his adoring eyes lingering on you.
Like yours was lingering on him.
You smiled at each other, letting the other feel that they're not alone in the battles they're facing.
What are you to each other, anyway? You pondered when you decided to avert your eyes away from him first.
As far as you can recall, friends don't do this kind of thing with each other. The staring, the blushing. Oh, especially the blushing.
You can't help but long for the possibility of having your feelings reciprocated, but oh boy were you afraid.
"Can I sit beside you?" His question brought you to your senses, and you happily obliged, "Of course! This capsule isn't shaky, we'll be okay being on the same side." You made space for him as you patted the empty space. There he sat, his scent enveloping your senses.
It was silent for the whole ride up, but you were comfortable with it. You were with the person you love, being with them is enough.
7:00pm
Your capsule was right on top when suddenly, a boom was heard and splashes of color was seen through the window.
"Artem!" you pointed at the big, colorful patch of explosion that's a little bit below the capsule you were in.
The ferries wheel was so high that you were higher than the fireworks!
The fireworks was on your side of the window, you can see the view to it's fullest glory.
"Whoa!" you exclaimed, your eyes astonished by the scene before you. Your hands flat against the window, when you suddenly felt a body pressed against your back, and a hot breath against your ear, "It's amazing" you heard Artem mutter, as his breaths fanned the hairs on your neck, before resting his chin on your shoulder.
You yelped, you forgot Artem was just beside you!
Your heart pounded against your ribcage when you realized that in order for Artem to see the fireworks, he needs to look at your side of the window.
Heck, your thighs were touching, and you can feel every ounce of heat that his muscular body radiated. He's practically caging you and this small, suffocating space of a capsule isn't helping!
Despite the unbelievable heat that your whole body is feeling right now, you badly wanted him to wrap his arms around you.
Something was pooling in your stomach, something weird. All you can think about right now is Artem kissing you against the window while you sit on his lap.
Warmth filled your already heated cheeks upon realization of what you just imagined, and you mentally slapped yourself. What were you thinking?
The smell of his vanilla cologne isn't helping!
Nobody has ever made you feel this way before. No other person has affected you like this. You think about the things that this man had done for you, he was selfless, hardworking, and most of all, kind.
Especially the smiles he had always shown you. Those smiles filled with comfort and fondness that makes you weak in the knees. Whenever you see that smile, you find yourself looking forward in seeing it again.
To you, Artem Wing was unobtainable.
Yet you wanted to make him yours.
7:01pm
"Artem!" you pointed below with an enthusiastic grin as the fireworks boomed and splashed the sky above the theme park.
His body scooted over to you without realizing, eyes widening with glee and he muttered, "It's amazing" Artem leaned towards you, placing his chin on your shoulder for him to get better view of the fireworks display below.
It's taking every ounce of his control to not face you towards him and claim your lips then and there.
What you said earlier only fueled his raging feelings for you. You were willing to carry his burdens with him? He never had someone say that to him before, and he was happy it's from you.
The evening is flawless. The two of you were alone, having you near him like this, your decleration of support earlier, and a beautiful scenery before him that he won't get to see everyday...
A perfect evening to pour his heart out to you.
He decided that if there was a best time to confess his love for you, that time would be now. He didn't care about your answer right now, he just wanted to let it all out before this passionate feelings can drive him to insanity.
These feelings were driving him crazy, he wanted to let you know how you make him happy, that he thinks about you eveey second of every day, that you ground him and his lonely heart.
He noticed you were silent and unmoving, so he decided to take the chance. He took a deep breath.
"I'm in l-" "Can I ki-"
You turned your body to face him, surprised. Your face only a few centimeters away from his. One wrong move and you'll kiss.
The both of you blinked.
"You... go first." you said, biting your lip.
He stared deep into your eyes, none of you dared to move from this intimate position, your breaths fanning each other's faces.
"Y/N, I," he rested his forehead against yours and breathed with the most vulnerable voice you've ever heard from him, "I'm in love with you..."
You gaped, but he didn't mind.
He closed his eyes for a few seconds, "It's okay if you don't feel the same. I..." he opened his eyes to give you a loving gaze "I will keep loving you anyway."
He looked so vulnerable right now, but it didn't scare him. If anything, he feels relief in finally voicing out the feelings he's hidden for so long.
"I was in a bad mood today because I think you were interested in William," you just blinked and he continued, "I mean, you always look happy when you're with him. It crushed my heart." He finished as he waited for your response.
He waited, and waited.
The silence that you were giving him didn't give him any clue to what you were thinking, it's unnerving.
After of what seemed like an eternity you finally let out, "He has a girlfriend, silly." you see Artem's eyes widened and you continued, "It's a long story, but I'm not interested in him. We're just friends."
You felt the heat creep up his face.
"So... what were you going to tell me?" He said hesitantly as he gulped, the embarrasment from earlier evident in his voice.
Your cheeks flushed pink as you darted your eyes, it was now your turn to get really embarassed, "Can I..." your face looks conflicted. That if you say whatever you wanted to say, It'd be the death of you.
You took a deep breath, Artem told you his feelings, so it's only fair you tell him yours, you told yourself and mustered the courage to look up to his ocean eyes, a vast ocean so blue, you could drown in them, "Can I kiss you, Artem?"
It took a moment before he could fully process your words. His brain short-circuit.
"What?" He blurted out as he scanned your face for any signs that maybe, you have made a mistake.
but you replied, "I want to kiss you Artem," you put your hands on his shoulder to steady yourself, "I'm in love with you too."
His body tingled with so much joy, you being in love with him was just a distant dream before.
Not willing to wait anymore, he licked his lips as he slowly dipped his head to meet your already parted mouth, welcoming him.
You may or may not have kissed the entire way down the ride.
Artem Wing is a dedicated man.
Now, he's willing to dedicate himself to you for the rest of his life.
do not repost © lavynrose 08/16/21.
#tears of themis#tears of themis x reader#artem wing#artem wing x reader#artem x reader#tears of themis imagines#tot x reader#zuo ran x reader
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CRUSH AT THE PREMIER
Scarlett Johansson x reader
Words: 2356
SCARLETT P.O.V.
I'm driving to a caffe down the street to meet up with my longest time best friend (y/n) and as usual I forgot my phone, why everytime I have to meet with (y/n) I get so nervous and forget even my name? Well maybe it is because I have a major crush on her since, how can I say it, well forever probably is the word I'm searching for.
Waking up from my thoughts I park the car and rush to the enter where I see (y/n) impatiently checking her phone.
(Y/N): Where the hell were you? I called you something like five times I thought you were dead!
She says hugging me, I chuckle nervously and hug her back.
SCARLETT: I may or may not have forgotten my phone at home, but anyway is nice to see you too miss finesse.
(Y/N): Oh come on Scarly don't turn into a good girl now.
I blush at this statement and try to hide it laughing and pushing her throward the door.
SCARLETT: Take that fine ass of yours inside I need for my coffee.
(Y/N): Yes ma'am!
We sit at a table and we start talking about what happened in the past month since we didnt have much time to hang up cause we have been super busy with work. I told her everything I could about what happened on the set of Avengers Endgame: funny story, some bloopers and some spoilers as well, but nothing too big since neither I know whats going on in that movie, yep Marvel is very good at keeping secrets.
(Y/N): When is the premier Scarly?
SCARLETT: Tomorrow night and actually I wanted to ask you something about that
My hands got sweaty and I started to panic. What if she says no or she finds out I'm in love with her? Scarlett Ingrid Johansson, you take a breath and ask your best friend and crush to go to the premier with you whether you want it or not! I probably get lost in my thoughts for a while since (y/n/n) is waving her hand in front of my face.
(Y/N): Hellooo? Land to Scarlett, are you here?
SCARLETT: Yeah, sorry I...I zoned out for a sec.
(Y/N): I noticed. Scarly now please answer me sincerely, are you ok?
I frowned at her question.
(Y/N): Don't look at me with that face, you can fool anyone but not me. You've been weird since you arrived today, then you want to ask me something and zone out. This is not you, whats going on?
I take a deep breath trying to gain time.
SCARLETT: Im fine (y/n/n), just a little bit stressed for the premier tomorrow. You know it'll be the first time I'll be there alone and I guess this is stressing me out
(Y/N): Awww don't worry Scarly you'll be amazing as always.- she says taking my hands in hers smiling at me- You're the strongest woman I've ever met and I'm sure that walking on a red carpet alone is not gonna break you down.
I blush at her words and lower my head shaking it a bit.
SCARLETT: The problem is not standing alone on the red carpet, the problem is the presss questions and the scandal that not having a partner for this event is gonna create.
Her smile dropped. She understands what I mean and she knows how much I got stressed when the press spread fake gossip about me.
(Y/N): Well I'm sure we can find someone inclined to accompany you or...
I raised my head at her or and saw the fear and embarrassment on her face. I dont know what happened to me at that moment, but suddenly I felt super confident and the words came out of my mind without me noticing.
SCARLETT: Or you can come with me as my date.
My eyes widened as soon as I realized what I said and I started to panic even more. I try to focus on the bright side of this thing but right now I can't care less about the fact that I practically confessed to my crush, I'm too scared of her reaction. My train of thoughts and paranoia stop rushing when I hear (y/n) laughing.
(Y/N): Your face is sooo funny! Seems like youve seen a ghost!
I try to force out a laugh but it dies in my throat before it can even get out of my mouth so I limit myself at smiling.
(Y/N): You know I wasn't thinking about me when I proposed another option right Scarly?
I nod sadly.
(Y/N): I was thinking about that Colin Jost... But if you want me to be there with you I'll cancel my date night with my couch and Netflix and come with you!
SCARLETT: Really?
My eyes lit up when she agreed to come to the premier as my date. I was so excited and happy as if a burden had been lifted from my shoulder. I jump out of my seat and hug her tight.
SCARLETT: Thank you, thank you, thank you!
(Y/N): Yeah, but don't get too excited I'll only do that in order to see the movie before anyone else.
I stop hugging her and go back to my seat putting on a childish pout and faking to be offended by her statement.
SCARLETT: For what you said you'll have to choose the dress on your own and come to pick me up tomorrow at 5pm.
(Y/N): No no no no. I was joking, girl, chill down! I obviously agreed to come cause youre my best friend and I don't want to let you go alone.- she said scratching the back of her head in facking embarasmen- Now please help me pick a dress!
I burst out laughing at her begging and she joined me soon.
SCARLETT: Ok (y/n/n) well go pick a dress now, but please learn how to plead cause you suck!
We get out of the caffe laughing and wondering about what will happen tomorrow night like two girls going nuts the day before the prom.
TIME SKIP TO THE RED CARPET
I'm walking side by side with (y/n) down the red carpet and I've never felt more powerful in my whole life. For the first time I'm standing in front of the press, journalist, photographer and I don't care about what they're saying and what they'll say tomorrow.
Down the path we stop for some photos and interviews. And I noticed (y/n) tensing and shaking when people ask her questions. Without thinking too much about it I hold her hand rubbing my thumb over the back of it trying to calm her down.
SCARLETT: If it's too much for you I can take you inside the theatre and come back out here alone.- I whisper in her ear.
(Y/N): No it's ok, I'm a little bit overwhelmed but I'll be fine. Just can you hold my hand?
SCARLETT: Sure thing hon, everything for you.
I see her blushing and that makes me smile.
We are now in the theatre and the movies have been going for a while already when I realize that the scene of Natasha's sacrifice is coming up. I shift in my seat trying to get comfortable and ease the stress. I know this scene would come, I mean I shoot it, but it's sad anyway cause after I played Natasha Romanoff for 10 years I can say that she is part of me now.
As soon as the Widow jumps down the cliff the theatre is filled with gasp and sob. Every member of the cast looked at me shocked since no one except Jeremy knew that. Robert, who was sitting at my left lean near me.
ROBERT: You hide it to us for all this time?
SCARLETT: Feige's order.
I hear a sob coming from the person at my right, so I turn around to see (y/n) crying in her seat. That view makes my heart clench, she is so beautiful and precious even with tears rolling down her cheek. I stare at her for a while before she notices and grabs my hand holding it tight in search of comfort. When our hands touch I feel my stomach flutter and my heart skip a beat, we stare at each other's eyes and without realizing we both start to lean in closer without breaking eye contact. My heart was beating so fast and my mind was wandering freely imagining how could (y/n) lips would feel against mine.
Our magic moment was interrupted by a flash coming from the screen we woke up from our state of trance and back off blushing in embarrassment.
TIME SKIP TO EVANSS PARTY
(Y/N) P.O.V.
Me and Scarly are at a party hosted by the one and only Chris Evans. I've lost Scarlett in the crowd so I make my way to go get another drink. If I have to be totally honest I lost count of how many shots I've had, but drinking helps me forget about the problem and right now I have a big problem to take off my mind.
I still can't believe that me and Scarlet had almost kissed each other early in the theatre, but most importantly I can't believe I want it to happen again! She is my best friend and I shouldn't have those thoughts about her. I shouldn't wish to kiss her, but here I am.
The night went on with Scarlett chatting with her cast members and me drinking shot after shot till I practically passed out on someone which at the moment I don't remember the name, my head hurt too much for thinking. I slurred an "I'm sorry" while trying to get back on my feet.
BRIE: Here let me help, youre too drunk to stand alone.- she said while helping me stand still.
(Y/N): I'm not - hiccup- that dwunk -hiccup.
BRIE: Yeah and I'm a member of the Queen.
I stare at her for a while.
(Y/N): Ohhh, that's why you seemed familiar!
BRIE: Ermmm ok. Are you here with someone?
I pointed to Scarlet who was talking to some girl and that view made me jealous. She is mine! The girl member of the Queen walked me to Scarlett and whispered something to her. After that my bestie excused herself from the girl she was talking to and rushed to me. We walked out the house where the party was going on in silence and got in the car where I passed out.
I wake up at Scarlett shaking me violently.
SCARLET: We are here but I need you awake I can't pick you up with this stupid heels.
I nodded and focused my attention on keeping my eyes open. Scarlet helped me get out of the car and walk to the door where she made me lean against the wall while she searched for the key. We finally got inside the house, I threw my purse on the floor and leaned on a table falling asleep.
SCARLETT: No that's not the bed hun come on, we have to take you upstairs then you can sleep I promise.
She struggles at makinkin me stit up since I'm not cooperating much, but I'm too tired to move or even think. I look at Scarlett and notice that she is standing between my legs while Im still sitting over the table. In this way I was way more taller than her so I managed to look at her and notice how embarrassed and frustrated she is right now. I lost myself in her beautiful eyes for the second time in a day and before I even noticed we were leaning in eachother again.
SCARLETT: Fuck this!
Her lips crushed on mine in a very passionate and loving kiss which I gladly responded to. Its amazing, our lips complete each other like two pieces of the same puzzle. I lost myself in those kisses and I didn't even notice that Scarlett had picked me up and she is trying to walk to the staircase without interrupting our magical kiss.
Eventually our lips came apart and as if nothing happened she took me up to a room and put me to bed pecking my lips before I passed out definitely.
TIME SKIP TO THE NEXT MORNING
I stir and roll in the bed trying to remember what happened last night. I wake up and look around noticing that this is NOT my room. I sit up quickly causing my head to hurt and I notice a glass of water with some pills near it and a post-it on the nightstand. I pick the note and read it:
"I got you some pills and water, they'll help with your hangover. There are some of my clothes on the chair put them on then come downstairs I'm doing pancakes
-Scarly❤"
I start to get dressed trying to recall at my mind what happened after the party when something hit me. ME AND SCARLETT KISSED!
I fall on the floor tripping over the bed sheet, I stand up again and start going downstairs rubbing my sore back. When I entered the kitchen I saw Scarly focused on not burning the pancake. I walked behind her, slid my hand around her waist, hugging her and kissing her cheek.
(Y/N): Morning love.
SCARLETT: Look who decided to wake up!- she said kissing my lips- How are you feeling?
(Y/N): Me good, my ass not much since I fell on the floor.
We burst laughing and sit at the table starting to eat breakfast without the need to talk about what happened last night cause both of us know that we wanted it for a long time.
Love you you all and be safe
Dasy 🥰
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