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starlightazriel · 5 months ago

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bad boy az x school girl au part 3 (fem reader)

warnings: 18+ as usual, smut, angst, drug addiction, drug abuse, underage drinking, very dark childhood, abusive parent, age gap (sophomore x senior)

other parts can be found on my azriel masterlist

wc: 4.4k

Regular sex. I was having regular sex with Azriel. It seemed quite surreal actually, that someone like me would have regular sex with anyone, let alone Azriel. He would wait for me on that same bench, or sometimes with his car, leaning up against it to be sure I saw him. It was definitely strange, people knew my name now. I didnt ask him if we were dating, though it felt like it.

We did more than just have sex, and I couldn't deny that I was completely in love with him after only several weeks, despite not knowing much of anything about him. Only what he chose to show me. It was starting to get colder, the fall air getting more crisp as winter approached. Azriel and I had plans tonight, plans that I was very much looking forward to. So when I left school that day I was expecting Azriel to be there, leaning up on his car and waiting for me. He wasn't there though, my heart sank. Right on time with my disappointment, my phone buzzed. Raincheck butterfingers? im sorry. There was never any warning in advance, no reason why, it would just be some short message that he had to reschedule and it always came right when Id leave school looking for him, only once it was a few minutes late.

Azriel looked down at his phone, read, typing and then just like that the typing stopped, nothing. It wasn't the first time he had blown her off, she never left him on read though. Normally, this wouldn't bother him, it wouldn't matter, normally he wouldn't have a second thought about being left on read. With her, it was different for some reason. Like disappointing her was just, gut wrenching, which he didnt know how to feel about that either. Azriel could see the way she looked at him, he could see how happy she was when she was around him, she didnt think about her parents arguing, or about the social pressures of high school, or the pressures of deciding what school she was eventually going to go to when she graduated. He knew it was unrealistic, for someone like her to be with him. He felt like he would just drag her down, like he wasn't nearly good enough for her. Im really sorry I have to handle this. A double text, he never did that, but again, with her, things were just different, she was too innocent, too much of a sweetheart. Plus, he was older, he was supposed to be the responsible one, so that's why he sent her a second text.

He knew that it would have to come to an end eventually, he knew that he would have to break both of their hearts when the time came.

She didnt read the second one, he cursed again and shook his head, parking in front of his house and jogging inside. He went up to his room, sat on his bed and took a few bong rips, Rhys' name lit up on his screen but he let it ring. He'd go talk to him later. He pulled himself together and pushed his night table aside pulling the board on the floor up to reveal his stacks of cash he had been saving over the years, hustling came easy to him, he had been doing it since elementary, he had bought candy bars for a dollar and sold them at school for three, secretly of course, back of the playground, boys bathroom, under the bleachers... Eventually middle school came and the candy bars turned into selling his dad's cigarettes, then high school, the cigarettes turned to pills, weed and mushrooms.

He had each of the stacks separated with rubber bands into a thousand dollars each, he grabbed a band, shoved it in his pocket and replaced the floorboard, pulling his night stand back over it.

With the cash in his pocket he headed to the police station. He pulled up, snapping the rubber band off the cash so it didnt look as much like drug money. "Afternoon boys," he strode in, the cops knew him well I mean, it was a small town for one and he had gotten into plenty of trouble in his days, and for two the neighbors had been calling on his dad and him for domestic disputes for years. And besides that, he had bailed his dad out of jail a few times a year at this point. They never asked where Azriel got the cash, maybe they just didnt give a fuck to care about a teenager and his drug addicted father. "What's the damage?" he mumbles, placing his scarred tattooed hands on the counter.

"750 today," the officer says after checking some things on his computer, Azriel winced before carefully counting the cash and placing it on the counter mumbling, "he's lucky I don't leave his ass in here," he shoves the remaining cash in his pocket before sitting down on a nearby chair to wait for them to retrieve his father.

He sighs as they bring him out, each year he seemed to get worse, heroin, cocaine to balance out the tiredness, really he knew his dad would do whatever he could get his hands on. His face was skeleton thin, pale and bruised, eyes sunken in with dark circles surrounding them. Azriel stood, turned, and started walking out of the building not saying a single word to his dad, really there was nothing to say. There was never a time that he had gotten along with his dad, before his mother abandoned them he had beat his mother until she couldn't take it anymore, he would never forgive either of them, he knew that, he would die hating both of them, and the only hope that he had was to eventually leave his dad and never see him again either. For now, until the end of the school year, it was what it was. Which was another reason why dating y/n was just unrealistic and out of reach, he planned to leave after graduation. To get as far away from this town as he could, even if it meant leaving Rhys and Cass behind, even if it meant leaving her behind. She was just a girl anyway, one he had only known for a few months in fact.

"Hurry up," Azriel muttered before getting into the car, he checked his phone again, nothing from her, she had to be angry with him. That was new, and he didnt like it. He had stood her up a handful of times, none of them had been intentional, simply circumstantial. His dad eventually hobbled to the car, getting into the passenger seat and slamming the door behind him. No appreciation, no thank you, nothing. Azriel pulls out of the station and begins to drive back to his house.

"Cigarette, boy," his dad demands, leaning back and sighing as if he had just got done after a long days work, he hadn't worked for years, for years Azriel had been burdened with paying the bills enough so they at least had hot water and heat. Azriel rolled his eyes and tossed a half empty pack to his dad, not wanting to be bothered for another one when he finished the first. His dad growled at the gesture, "if you weren't so damn disrespectful boy, maybe your mother wouldn't have left us, she couldn't bare to see that damn ugly scowl anymore," his dad grunted, Azriel scoffs, his hands gripping the steering wheel.

"Yeah, that's why she left," he muttered and came to a screeching hault in front of their house. He still recalled the day his mother left like it was yesterday, the night before, she had tried to protect him, his father had been belligerently drunk the night before, enough that he had barely been able to speak. He had only been seven years old.

He remembered the pain best, the blood soaking his shirt from his busted lip, his entire body aching and sore from the tumble he had taken down the stairs. His dad had pushed him because he had left one of his toys in the hall and his father had stepped on it. He remembered being curled up under his bed, hugging his bruised body, crying as he listened to the screams from his mother. Wincing every single time that she cried out. His dad yelling, the sounds of her body hitting the floor over and over again. He remembered waking up the next morning, still under his bed his body aching he remembered feeling like he couldn't move but forcing himself out, he had to check on his mother. "Mom? Where are you going?" he had asked she was covered in cuts and bruises, her eyes both swollen almost shut, he remembered wanting to cry, but not wanting to make her sad. She had been at the door, bag slung over her shoulder. "Oh Azzie baby," she had started crying at the sight of him, rushed to the bottom of the stairs, she hugged him tighter than she ever had before. "He's going to kill me Azzie, I have to go, I will come back for you, Im so sorry baby, stay strong okay?" she had told him before she left. He didnt know then that it was the last time he would see her. Azriel had waited five years before he decided that his mother was either dead, or wanted nothing to do with him because of his father, and he hated them both for it.

"Get out," Azriel reaches over his father with his long arm to open the passenger door, flicking his head toward the house. "I got shit to do," he mumbles not giving his dad even another look.

"Give me a hundred boy," his dad demands, Azriel takes a deep breath, anger coursing through his veins, he wanted to rip his throat out. "Come on boy, been in there for a whole day, you left me in there, I know they called you last night," he didnt move from the car. Azriel didnt have time for this, he had seen his father in withdrawal more times than he cared to admit and he didnt want to deal with it tonight, too much to do. Reluctantly he fished around in his pocket pulling out a fifty and tossing it at him.

"That's all I got, bail was expensive," he muttered and nodded toward the house again. "Goodbye," he says and he hears his dad grumbling about how disrespectful kids are today and that he better not come home tonight or he'd get his ass beat, Azriel wasn't worried though, he was bigger than his father now and anyway he knew by the time he returned his dad would be nodded off on the couch, he never got so lucky for an overdose, only once but he had been younger, he knew he would go into foster care until turned 18 if his dad died, so he had called the cops. He still had spent 6 months in foster care that year before returning to his father.

"Fuck is wrong with you?" Cass asks as Azriel entered the apartment belonging to his two older and oldest friends, they were all brothers at this point. They were the only real family he had. Since he could remember Azriel had always been around older kids, smoking first, drinking first, having sex first... Rhys and Cass had always been around, they had once rode bikes around their neighborhood and egged the principals house after Azriel had gotten suspended from the bus for sticking gum to the back of Stacy Willets seat which had got all stuck in her hair, now older and more mature he realized that was bullying. Azriel had only been nine years old when they had egged his house, Rhys and Cass had been twelve. He had met them when he was only five years old, first day of school, a fresh kindergartener wanting to impress the two third grade boys, naturally it happened at the bus stop, Azriel had impressed them by pick pocketing a fellow students pack of gum. Stealing of all things, he guessed he had always been bad, ever since he could remember.

"Just had to bail out my fucking deadbeat again," he grumbles, plopping himself down on the sofa and reaching for the spliff that Cass was holding in his hand, he passes it to Azriel, raising a brow. "Where's Rhys? I need work," he mumbles inhaling the smoke and sinking into the back of the couch.

"Well you're in luck, he just went to pick up," he doesn't comment about his dad, he knew Azriel didnt like to talk about it. "Skate while we wait?" he asked, throwing his hands up as if to ask how about it? His lips drawing in slightly in a turned down smile.

"Yeah, need that," Azriel says and shrugs, standing up to grab his favorite of Rhys' boards off of the racks they had on the wall, even though his was in the trunk of his car. He recalled the days that the three of them would skate every single day after school. They would meet up, get high out of their minds while they walked the woods trail from the school to the skate park and skate until it got completely dark out, not even stopping to eat. They had graduated his freshman year, and the last few years of school had been torture without them, he had other friends, they just weren't real friends he supposed until butterfingers. He couldn't help but smile which earned him a suspicious look from Cass as he grabbed his own board off the wall before leaning it against the couch.

"Peanut butter and mushroom jelly?" he asks and laughs. Azriel puts the now stinger of a spliff in the ashtray, Rhys' board still tucked under his arm and nods.

"When have I ever said no?" He asks him and smirks, sitting at one of their kitchen stools, placing the board over his lap now. He checks his phone while Cass places two pieces of white bread on the bare counter, smearing jelly on one side peanut butter on the other, he then retreated and came back dumping an eighth of shrooms onto the sandwich. Azriels stomach twisted when he opened instagram to see that she had posted a story, she never posted on her socials, he didnt much either, but still. His thumb hovered over it, debating on whether or not he should look, he knew girls were complicated, everything they did was a message.

"If anything will cheer you up it's this," Cass says as he cuts the now sandwich into two equal halves and hands one to Azriel. He takes the sandwich and takes a large bite, almost half already gone and he chews, the board still balancing on his lap. He would never get used to that earthy taste, like he had just picked up a pile of leaves and rotting sticks off the ground and was just chewing on them, he scrunched his nose, glancing up at Cass for only a minute to see him pouring two glasses of orange juice a similar expression on his face.

Azriel just shook his head, setting the sandwich down to take a swig before he finally just decided to watch the damn story. His heart leapt seeing her face on the screen now, a selfie? Since when, did she post selfies? Jealousy was the only thing that stopped him from hearting it. Azriel knew he was popular, yes it was in a different way than the jocks and the cheerleaders but still, he knew how people were noticing her since he had started walking the halls with her. He shoved the rest of the sandwich into his mouth and opened the text thread again, seeing that she had read his last message only about twenty minutes ago, this only annoyed him further. So you can post but you can't respond to my message? Triple texting a girl, who even was he anymore? "You alright?" Cass' voice pulls him from his thoughts and he locks his phone, swallowing the rest of the sandwich and washing it down with more juice.

"Let's go skate," he says and stands backup, the board tucked under his arm again. Cass seemed to accept this as an appropriate answer, he knew him and Rhys had to look out for him, they were like his older brothers, but prying, wasn't the way to look out for Azriel, it would only make him not return their calls for weeks until he sorted whatever it was out on his own. They made their way to the parking lot which had a convenient rail with a cement base near the sign for the apartments, the rail was already left scraped and bare on the top from them skating from time to time.

Azriel was definitely slightly drunk, it was late now, well past midnight as he walked from his car that he parked on the end of her street. It was freezing out now but he still wore a tshirt and jeans, his tattoos gleamed in the moonlight, he noted how trippy they looked, the effects of the shrooms him and Cass had done still wearing off. When Rhys had finally got back, they went out, Azriel using his fake since he wasnt twenty one. He had gotten half of the pills off that Rhys brought back, but he wasn't worried, he knew he'd sell the rest at school tomorrow, too damn good not to. She still hadn't responded to him and he had only gotten increasingly annoyed as the day had went on, so when he stumbled into her back yard, it was with intention.

He walked around the side to where he knew her window was and began throwing small rocks, they made small clinking noises before falling back onto the ground. "This is so fuckin stupid," he muttered to himself, shaking his head, he knew he looked like a complete idiot and he was about to go home before he saw the glow of her desk lamp and then, there she was, her brows furrowed as she peered down at him from the second story window. He watched her pry the window open, a smile threatening at his lips.

"Azriel what are you doing? It's a school night," she asks, the tone of her voice like a yell and a whisper at the same time. He couldn't help it, he smiled then, because, of course she would care about that.

"Let me fuck you before you go back to bed," he says back, and he didnt even have to see her up close to know that she was blushing beet red up there. There's a long pause of silence and he looks up at her, raising his arms the same way that Cass did earlier.

"How are you supposed to get in?" she finally asks, huffing out a shaky breath, keeping her voice at a low volume.

"I'll climb," he responds as if it's the simplest task in the world, there was a small roof in front of her window, it covered the back porch area.

"And how will you get down after?" she asks, as if challenging him.

"That's not a now problem butterfingers," he says back, shrugging his shoulders. He doesn't wait for her to say anything else before he's using one of the patio chairs to stand on and he somehow manages to get himself onto the roof and nearly falls into her room. Her hand covers over her mouth.

"Azriel be quiet my parents are sleeping," she hisses softly but he is on his feet by the time she finishes her sentence, he looks down at her, studying her face as if something would now be different.

"Y/n," he was too drunk to care about the surprise that crossed her face and then flush that crept onto her cheeks as her hands slowly dropped at her sides. He had never really said her name before, not outside of class when he had been talking to their teacher. Her lips parted slightly and she stared at him, waiting for what he was going to say next. "Why did you ignore me today?" he finally asked, there were so many things he wanted to tell her, but he knew he couldn't, it would only hurt her in the long run.

"Because you blew me off again, apparently to get drunk," she wrinkled her nose slightly, she may have tried to play it cool, but Azriel knew she was nervous.

"I promise you, it wasnt like that at all," he shakes his head, now feeling slightly nervous as well, which wasnt normally a thing for him. There was a lot of new things with her though. "I had to pick my dad up, and then you weren't texting me and yeah, somehow we ended up here," he finally says, her face softens, which it seemed to any time he mentioned his dad. She really knew nothing, but she knew it was something, he appreciated her understanding, and he appreciated that she never asked any prying questions.

"Im sorry for ignoring you," she finally says after a small pause of silence, he breaks out in a smile and then remembers the selfie, his smile didnt falter when her grabbed her face in his hands, her breath hitched.

"Im going to need every name that slid up on that picture you posted, Im going to lace their weed," he says casually, she didnt even have time to process before his lips were on hers. He kissed her hungrily, claiming her with a dominance he hadn't used before and he pushed her toward her bed, she let out a small gasp as her knees buckled against the bed. Azriel knew if he hadn't drank so much he wouldn't have came here, he knew he wouldn't have been here claiming her as his. Selfish, he was being so damn selfish.

He yanked her pajama pants from her body, placing kisses on her bare torso as he did, her tank top had ridden up just under her breasts that were now peaked, nipples poking the thin fabric. "This?" he mumbled, pressing his palm onto her pussy, holding it, shaking his hand just a little bit causing her to gasp in pleasure as she looked down at him, face flushed, lips parted, propping herself up on her elbows so she could see him better. "This is all mine, do you understand baby?" he asks, his eyes locking with hers, dark with lust, tone unwavering as his eyes bore into hers, searching. He had never in his whole career of having sex behaved this way with someone before, he was too damn drunk to be afraid of it. "Answer me," he says, as she had seemed to be lost for words, her brows twisted with pleasure as she panted before him.

"I understand," she breathed out, he let out a small grunt of approval finally releasing his hand from her and pulling her panties off, humming in approval.

"Look how wet you are already," he dipped his head down, taking a small lick of the wetness gathered at her opening, humming softly in approval at her delicious taste. She whimpered softly beneath him and he stood, her eyes widened a bit, and she looked at him curiously. "On your stomach," he mutters humming again in approval as she rolls over onto her stomach without hesitation. "Fuck," he groans before burying his face into her again, he licked her opening, wiggling his tongue inside her deeper, his nose pressing into the pucker of her ass, she gasps again, trying to pull away a bit but he holds her hips steady, inhaling her sweet sent as he continued to move his tongue. She buried her face into her pillow and he noted the way that her fingers gripped her sheets and her pillow, her knuckles white like she was hanging on for dear life.

He pulled back a bit, licking all the way up from her ass to the top of her neck, goosebumps covered her body and she let out a muffled whimper into her pillow. "This was all you needed wasnt it?" He asks, moving her hair aside so he could ask right in her ear, his husky voice making her toes curl. "Needed me to lick your sweet little cunt and fuck you til you see stars so you can stop acting like a little brat," his lips were right next to her ear, causing a shiver to shoot through her, she only moaned in response. Now this, was more his style, never claiming a pussy as his own, he never cared about having someone to himself. Everything was different with her.

He grabbed one of her smaller pillows, his other hand sliding down her side before he lifted her a bit, sliding the pillow underneath her. He cursed quietly at the sight,, her ass now poking up for him at the perfect angle, her pussy gleamed in the dim light of her desk lamp. He didnt have time to undress, only enough time to free his aching cock from his jeans and shove it into her, making her cry out softly.

"So fuckin wet," he slurred a little bit, his fingers digging into her hips as he began to fuck her, harder, faster and needier than he ever had. She gripped the sheets tightly, no words, only soft moans and whimpers escaped her lips. Her body tensed, and he knew it was coming, he braced himself as her walls tightened around him and she gushed, crying out softly as she came all over his cock. "Oh fuck," he moaned again, the feeling of her sending him over the edge as well, he pulled out, spilling everything onto her ass, his breath ragged as he marveled at her beautiful body. He collapsed next to her, and silence fell as they caught their breath, she was peering at him now with only one eye, her face still smushed into the pillow, it made his heart melt. "No more ignoring me," he mutters, still breathless as he studies the half of her face he could see, he wanted to remember this moment forever.

"I might just do it every day if I get this treatment."

a/n: that got so dark for a min there idk what's wrong with my fucked up mind, y'all gonna have to brace yourselves for the next part :( don't forget to tell me what you think

#acotar #azriel smut #azriel spymaster #azriel fic #acotar smut #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #azriel fanfic #azriel fan fiction #azriel fluff #azriel x reader #azriel au #azriel

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cherie-doll · 3 months ago

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Cherie Cherie Cherie 🥺🥺 may I please request a Keegan x Assassin reader, enemies to lovers trope? It’s a huge brainrot rn and I don’t have a good way with words like you do 🥹

I was imagining like the reader receiving a request to assassinate Keegan because he is a brilliant sniper and she/he/they try to shimmy into his civilian life and once she gains his trust (or she believes that he trusted her enough) she orchestrates some ‘accidents’ but none of them worked. In the end she had to try and kill him during one of his mission and it can end in angst or wholesome whichever you please!! She definitely will grow a soft spot towards him during the process of getting to know him like (who doesn’t like Keegan the man’s so caring)😭😭

You can even like switch out some parts if you feel like they don’t make sense hehe. Thanks so much for writing and posting argh what would I do without you 😭😭💖💖

chant my name three times and i'll appear (jk XD) and thank YOU for these ideas, seriously. i rewrote this so many times omg

Keegan x Assassin!Reader (angst)

The flash of lobelia blue eyes was evident against the contrast of austere grey wall. You had found your target. "Keegan P. Russ" You recalled the name written at the top of the folder given to you. The information had been vague and rendered useless before shoving it into the paper shredder.

You're young, stupid and willing to do anything for money. That's how you ended up here and how you were treated. An expendable kid who would do anything for money. But you had reached dire circumstances. It's such a secret you keep.

Having already found out where he lived, sort-of figured out his routine while off-duty and the people he associated with, which weren't many to begin with, all you had to do was devise a plan. His information was not easy to collect as this was the first time he'd taken an interval in a long time. How you were ever supposed to take out a skilled soldier, a sniper at that too, you had no clue. This was certainly a first, your previous tasks involved less skilled targets; gang members, drug dealers and the occasional unfortunate passerby who happened to be there at the wrong moment and time.

Keegan with his savings bought a house, an attempt at a normal civilian life. You sought out a weakness, an entry, a quiet way to take him out. But every time you searched for him, you always found his eyes first. Your breath caught in your chest when you thought they'd found yours. Shady blue pools. Observing wouldn't do anything. The only way to find a weakness in him was to get closer.

Keegan who had no idea what to do with himself. Rest was all he wanted, but it didn't take long before he was restless. He found it within himself a growing emptiness; an uncomfortable silence. A stillness he always said was a luxury on base. Shouldn't he be thankful to be getting rest now? After all, to sulk all your primary physical needs like sleep and eating must be met before you can worry about anything else.

For a solid month you played it safe until one night you grew frustrated and through the torrential rain you walked up his steps. Keegan had been downing another bottle when he heard your knock. He blinked seeing you drenched, hair matted and sticking to the sides of your face, clothes heavy with rainwater and looking out of breath. Holding the door open, he must've stood there blinking for a moment deciphering whether you were real or he'd been imagining. Finally, snapping out of his daze he cleared his throat when you started speaking, your voice low, feigning timidity.

"I'm, sorry I've come to you in this...this, well my car broke down and, I... I haven't a place to stay."

He squinted, balancing himself by placing a hand on the door and leaning upon it. Drinking whilst mindlessly staring into the rain hadn't been a good idea.

"Right..." He said in a low voice, rather to himself more than to you. He stood straight again, focusing onto your face. "Want to come in?" He offered.

"Oh, I wouldn't want to intrude..."

"You look cold." He pointed out, leaning into your face.

When he leaned in you caught a whiff of alcohol in his breath. You considered apologizing and backing out, it'd look weird but there was a chance he wouldn't remember all the details or even question your actions. But you had already come and you were shivering.

"Well, if you insist." And he moved to let you enter. Upon entering the first thing you felt was that the air didn't change. Did he not have his heater on? Second thing you noticed when you walked further in were the amount of beer bottles on the living room floor by the couch.

"Shit, let me clean this mess up." He moved to collect the bottles from the floor but stopped shortly when you had reached down and picked up an unopened bottle. Popping open the bottle you brought it to your lips and took a long drink. He stood motionless watching you down it halfway before your lips parted from it. You hadn't had a drink in a while and you certainly missed the burn-like sensation the first sip brought.

"You get the good beer." You said, smiling a little to him. He snickered and motioned for you to sit on the couch. "I'll go turn on the heater. Make yourself comfortable."

You sat, contemplating getting the job done now. Keegan's defenses were low but he wasn't drunk either, he just looked tipsy.

Too soon, you thought.

You assumed he wouldn't remember most of that night but, on the contrary, what was most memorable for him was how refreshing it was to bask in your company. However simple and mundane was the evening it was the most at peace and content he'd ever been in a long time.

You drank together once a week on evenings, sometimes going out to eat, visiting bars or walking aimlessly through the streets. Keegan wouldn't particularly say you were friends, less lovers. The line was blurry but it was something best not labeled nor defined. You were thankful for this, it made your job easier. Detachment was something you ought to do soon, and this thought became pertinent in your mind. During those moments when you'd pause, observing his relaxed form, making your hand hesitate, twirling the knife in your palm and testing the pointy tip with your finger. How much would you even get paid to do this?

"I'm going away." He said one day.

"What do you mean?" Panic surged through your veins.

"I'm in the military. Got called to go back." A pause and a stretch of uncomfortable silence. "But I'll come back."

"When?"

His shoulders slouch. The only answer is silence. “I don’t know.” He stared up at you through his lashes as you stood up. He was dangerous when he looked at you like that.

You left without a word, before you could crack in front of him. His words had pierced through you reminding you of a life you don't have access to. How easy it was to forget your priorities, a simple thing you had with him. How he made you feel on top of the world; free of problems, of the need to survive. But you're not free to make those decisions, and until he's gone you can never find peace.

And Keegan had never felt the frightening thrill of a push and pull game that very much felt like Russian roulette. Never had he been afraid to plunge headfirst into reality, but this... this was the deadliest of games.

A hole in your heart still harbored a question; just what answer he'd give you might break it. And you came to this cruel, shattered reality as you observed Keegan focus on his sniper scope. His spotter unaware of you as you pulled the trigger.

"Maybe if the circumstances had been different." You whispered.

#keegan p russ #keegan x reader #cod keegan #keegan russ x reader #cod fanfic

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ro-sham-no · 9 months ago

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Sam dies again, shortly after being resurrected by Dean’s crossroad demon deal. It was an accident, just a hazard of the job. Dean couldn’t stop it.

Dean goes crazy after it happens. He has no more soul left to bargain with. He goes numb.

He couldn’t care less about his inevitable, one-way trip to Hell, the moot deal that it now is. Nothing could be worse than this wretched hopelessness, the gnawing blackness that grows inside him with every passing moment. His thoughts plague him,

Is Sam even in heaven? After all the demons’ taunts about him coming back Wrong- had Dean doomed him, his baby brother, his son, his boy, to Hell?

Sammy's gone, and Dean’s soul is still sold, and it's so unfair-

Dean’s kept Sam’s corpse- Sam, he’s kept Sam, again. Has laid him out on a shitty, stained mattress. Again. He’s also laid out every single fireable weapon in their considerable arsenal next to Sam on the bed, all loaded. Every second that goes by, the itch to grab them gets stronger.

He’s out of options. Trying another crossroads demon had done nothing. Frantic, useless researching about resurrection, which he’d already done the first time - nothing. Praying to god, for the first time ever, saying please, please, I know I’m fresh out of any sort of Grace, but surely you can see that He’s not. Sammy doesn’t deserve to be in Hell, please-

Nothing.

The guns on the mattress glare at him. All gleaming, metallic resilience, taunting him, sitting so starkly cold next to Dean’s dead baby brother. Dean’s hands haven’t given up their tell-tale tremor since it happened. Since Sam---

The tremor is one that he’s felt on and off throughout the years - only appearing on those not-so-rare occasions where Sam had taken hits just hard enough, gotten cuts just deep enough that Dean would have the Thought strike through him like lightning,

Sam might not come back from this one.

The end of Dean’s sleeve is soaked as it covers his trembling hand, what is probably snot and spit mixing in with more and more tears as he alternates between pitiful comforts. Wedging his shaking hands deep into the sockets of his eyes as he convulses through his sobs and cries, then shifting them to press tensely against his teeth through his lips, trying in vain to calm down and keep quiet, and then moving to his nose to wipe away the aftermath and start all over again.

Sam’s not coming back from this one.

I failed.

It’s over.

Dean abruptly stands, shoving and tearing the guns away, violently shoving his sleeve to his face to dry it, having to move up higher on his arm each time as his sleeves caught more of his heart leaking out of his eyes, nose, and mouth. He lets all but Sam’s beloved Taurus recklessly fall to the floor.

His stupid, beloved Taurus that the kid’d saved up enough money to buy for himself - all honest-earned money, after getting a grocery store job he applied for the second he turned 14. Cheap-ass Brazilian gun, Dad had called it with derision, but he’d let Sam buy it all the same.

Dean had thought, at the time, that Sam’s choice of gun was just because it was, in fact, affordable and non-American (Sam was never shy about his lack of patriotism, even when Dad gave him all the more hell for it). But he hadn’t caught Sam slipping away to pawn shops and military resale stores while Dad was away and Dean worked dead-end odd jobs to pay the bills like civilians for a while. But then Sam had found it, them, and then Dean had certainly noticed.

See, when Sam had first gotten the thing, it came with practical black grips. Factory standard, since Sam had wanted it new - forever a priss about owning something that wasn’t secondhand. But then, unbeknownst to Dean, Sam had searched high and low to find what he wanted, what he knew existed because he had seen it in a gun magazine once (he had frantically torn out the page as soon as he saw it, hidden in the back of the gas station and waiting for Dean to stop flirting with the cashier). So, Sam had saved up and played the long game, pawn shop after pawn shop, and it paid off.

He’d replaced the black grips - not speaking a peep to either Dean or Dad about it - with pearl ones. And sure, it wasn’t ivory, necessarily, and the stainless steel of the Taurus wasn’t exactly nickel-plated, but the effect was the same.

Sam’s very first gun of his own, which he bought with his own, labor-earned cash, oh-so-clearly fashioned after Dean’s.

And now here it is, cradled against Dean’s chest. He’d crawled into bed with Sam at some point during his weepy recollection, resting his head on Sam’s chest in oppositional mimicry of how they would lay together as kids. Sam, curled up under Dean’s chin, forever trying to make himself smaller in Dean’s arms even as he grew bigger.

But it’s Dean’s turn to be small. Dean’s turn, as he tugs Sam’s (cold, lifeless) arm over his back in a weak embrace, slipping his arm around Sam as best he can, squeezing and holding tight as he shakes apart. Sam’s Taurus is gripped surely in Dean’s hand, pressed under his chin.

His Colt, after which the Taurus had been so lovingly, painstakingly fashioned, lies discarded on the ground.

#(#gencest #samdean #devotion #codependency #dean winchester #dean whump #ro writing tag #)

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mickittotheman · 7 months ago

Note

hii 🤗 for the kiss trope: Gallavich and 11 or 49

Hi!!! 🤗🤗🤗

49. ...out of necessity

Ian sighs, drumming his fingers against sun bleached red plastic. Debbie pops out of the water for the millionth time, shoving her soaked hair out of her face and turning to beam at Ian excitedly. He gives her a stained smile and a halfhearted thumbs up.

Okay, yeah, he could probably be more enthusiastic. That had been a pretty impressive flip.

But he’s tired, and he’s bored, and he feels like he’s cooking in the sun, the shade of the ripped umbrella above him not nearly enough. By the end of the summer, he’ll be nothing but one big freckle.

It's a good gig. They need the money. He’s been trying to avoid the Kash and Grab, trying to avoid Kash. The pay is decent, and his siblings get free admission. He’d been excited about the prospect of maybe helping someone, maybe saving someone, maybe being the hero for once.

So far, he’s only had to save the occasional bee, and, on one notable occasion, a rat.

He sighs again. Gazes at the water longingly. He wishes he could jump in. He wishes something exciting would happen.

He scans the surface again, scans the perimeter, looking for trouble. It’s busy today. Crowded. Probably because it’s hot as fuck.

There’s a few people from school he recognizes, but there's one group in particular he’s been eyeing, one person in particular.

Mickey Milkovich.

Ian’s never actually talked to him before. But he’s seen him.

He leaning his back against the fence, smoke wafting up from his lips to the “No Smoking” sign posted just above his head. He’s hot as fuck– in every sense of the word. He’s wearing all black. Black tee with the sleeves cut off, black ripped jeans, black heavy boots. He’s in the shade, but Ian can see the sweat glistening on his skin from all the way over here, and it’s kinda making his mouth water.

He swallows. Looks away. Inevitably looks back.

Mickey’s sister is sunbathing face down on a lounge chair, a skimpy black two piece on her steadily reddening skin, a handful of boys drooling over her, only kept at bay by Mickey’s glare. One of the other Milkovich brothers is there– Iggy? Colin? Ian can never tell them apart– but he’s preoccupied, having ditched guard dog duty in favor of rubbing sunscreen onto some college girl’s back.

He forces himself to focus on the water again. If a kid dies because he was too busy thinking with his dick he’d never live it down.

He’s trying so hard not to look. He blames that on why he misses the initial commotion. When he finally glances over at the sound of raised voices Mandy is standing up, a red mark the shape of a handprint on her ass and a murderous expression on her face. Mickey is already decking the one Ian assumes is the culprit.

Shit.

Ian fumbles for the little whistle around his neck.

Mickey whips around at the shrill noise with a glare, and the other guy seizes the opportunity to shove Mickey into the pool and run.

There’s gasping. Some yelling. A few people scatter, not wanting to be around for when Mickey clambers out and goes fucking ballistic.

But Mickey doesn’t clamber out. He sinks to the bottom in a mess of flailing limbs.

Shit.

Ian is in the water in a heartbeat. The shock of cold against his flushed skin is jarring, but he barely pays it any mind. Mandy had jumped in too, and together they manage to haul Mickey up and out and onto the searing hot pavement.

“Shit, Mickey, come on you stupid shithead,” Mandy mutters, smacking at his face.

“I need you to move,” Ian says, and he’s distantly shocked by how calm he sounds.

She doesn’t put up a fight like he was expecting, just scrambles back to give Ian room.

He’s only ever had to do this on crusty foam dummies, but miraculously, muscle memory takes over. He starts compressions. Quick, quicker than you think they should be but not too quick, deep but not too deep. He reaches thirty. Moves his hands up, tips Mickey’s head back, ducks down.

He barely has his lips sealed over Mickey’s when Mickey gasps.

It’s not as romantic as it is in the movies.

The first thing Mickey does is turn his head and cough up a mixture of chlorinated water and bile. The second thing he does is start biting out curses and kicking.

“Shit,” Ian hisses, scrambling out of range of Mickey’s heavy boots.

“Mickey, Mick, stop,” Mandy scolds, slapping at Mickey again.

Mickey’s gaze darts around, taking in the situation, the way Mandy is pale and wide eyed, the fact that his clothes are soaked through, the people standing around gawking.

His skin goes pink. He scowls mutinously. “What the fuck are you people looking at?”

People look away so fast, Ian wouldn’t be surprised if they had whiplash.

Ian laughs, nearly giddy with adrenaline and relief. “Come on. I can get you a towel.”

And some privacy, goes unsaid, but Mickey picks up on it anyways. He drags himself up, unsuccessfully trying to bat away Mandy’s and Ian's arms as they hook under his shoulders.

They find the second lifeguard in the locker room with a fresh hickey on his neck and a giggling blonde clinging to him. He goes wide eyed when he sees them, shoves the girl away unceremoniously. “Holy fuck. What happened?”

Ian rolls his eyes. “I’ve got it covered. Will you please just go do your fucking job while I handle this?”

“Don’t need your fucking help,” Mickey grouses. Ian and Mandy ignore him and wrangle him into sitting on one of the benches. “Where the fuck is Iggy?”

“He went to chase after that guy. I’m gonna go grab our bag before someone steals it.” Mandy pats Mickey on the shoulder once. Turns to the door. Pauses with just one foot out to look back.

She bites her lip. Drags her gaze up and down Ian’s form, lingering on his lips, on his still heaving chest, on where his wet swim trunks are clinging to him. “Thank you. For saving my brother. I owe you one.”

“Oh. Oh.” Ian feels his ears go red. He occupies himself with fumbling around in his locker for his towel. “Uh, thank you, but it was nothing, I–”

The door slams shut, Mandy already gone.

“Shit.” Ian sighs. Closes his eyes for a moment. Rubs at his forehead.

Mickey eyes him skeptically and snatches the towel Ian holds out to him. “You know by ‘owe you one’, she means a blowie, right?”

Ian burns even redder. Doesn’t quite manage to keep the grimace off his face. “Yeah.”

“What? You think you're too good for her?” Mickey sneers, bristling like a porcupine.

“No, no! She’s just. Uh. Not my type.”

Mickey glowers at him. Scowls. “What are you, a fucking fag or something?”

Fuck. Mickey wouldn't kill the guy who just saved his life, right?

Right?

Mickey scowls even harder when Ian flounders. Brings his tattooed fingers up to rub at his mouth. “I oughtta cut your fucking tongue out for putting your goddamn lips on me like that.”

“Trust me, I didn’t exactly enjoy it,” Ian snarks, and he swears, he swears, he sees something like disappointment flash through Mickey’s eyes. Something like hurt.

His breath stutters. He swallows hard.

“I mean. I didn't exactly get the chance to.”

Mickey freezes.

Ian holds his breath.

Mickey stands abruptly. Tosses the towel towards Ian's chest. Stomps towards the door.

Oh.

Ian deflates a bit.

Well. Could be worse. Mickey could have straight up murdered him.

Mickey pauses just inside the doorway, one foot out. Looks back. Shoves his tongue out to lick at the corner of his mouth. Looks Ian up and down with a cocked brow. “I owe you one.”

Ian’s eyes widen, but Mickey’s already gone.

send me a number~

#i will most likely come back and do 11 too so keep an eye out!!!#prompt games #gallavich #my scribblings #is this unrealistic? yes. do i care? yes. but i am trying very hard not to #cmonnnnn they do it in movies all the time #let me get away with it just this one pretty please???🥺

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jessicaloons · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter 23.1:

Freedom felt like summer then, on the coast…

Masterlist - Previous - Part 2

I looked over my bed, thinking about the next almost 3 weeks and if I had thought of everything, when there was a little knock on the door.

"Here, put the dresses in this clothing bag, they won’t crinkle in there." Mum walked in, handing me a clothing bag.

"Thanks Mum. I really hope that it’s enough? I know that we’ll be the first week together in Corse? Then a little party in Ibiza? But then? No idea, he’s not telling me anything? Is that enough? Do I need more outfits?" I looked at her and she smiled.

"I think you have enough… I mean, 10 dresses alone? I think that should be fine?" she said and I nodded.

"Yeah probably… umm Mum, can I talk to you and Dad? It’s… umm it’s important?" I asked her.

"Sure? Now? Okay, I’ll tell Dad, see you downstairs?"

"Yeah, I’ll be down in a minute…" I gathered myself, taking a deep breath. This is what I want. It’s normal. It’s okay. Let’s do this!

I sat down at the table and Mum and Dad both looked at me.

"What’s up?" Dad asked casually as he sipped on his water and I swallowed hard.

"I umm… I was thinking that- umm…" I began nervously before I shut my mouth again and grabbed the water carafe and poured something in an empty glass, nervously gulping down half of it.

"Lizzie darling, what’s going on?" Mum asked and looked concerned.

I put the glass down, taking a deep breath and started over again.

"Mum, Dad, I thought about this for a long time… I want to… I want to move out. And I don’t want to move just somewhere… I want to move to, well I want to move to Monaco. Or close to Monaco, because I don’t think that I can afford a flat there, not even the size of a shoebox… but it’s just… Shima has to move to Nice due to her new job. JK could be with his girlfriend instead of travelling back and forth between here and Nice. I would be close to Charles, Arthur, Lorenzo, Pascale! And of course it’s beneficial for my lungs…" I said and looked at them.

"And you were nervous why? Lizzie, you’re 24? You don’t have to ask for our permission!" Mum grabbed my hand over the table and squeezed it gently. "And when you live close to Charles and Pascale I’m not even worried."

"We didn’t expect you to live with us forever, you know?" Dad laughed and I sighed.

"Yeah… it’s just. It’s financially a lot to burden. I don’t know what I could afford? I mean, I don’t even know how much money I have? I never cared for it, you and Rita were discussing all the details of my contracts in the past, taking care of my money… now the inheritance from Hans…" I looked at him and Dad got a hold of his phone, tapping away.

"Okay. So breakdown of your financial situation. I’m talking now only of the savings account, consisting out of your price money for winning the WSeries, your basic salary from Audi and your salary from companies your doing commercials for or you’re partnered with… plus the now available inheritance…" he shoved his phone over the table, showing my bank statement and I gulped "I think Monaco is definitely doable."

"Holy shit? I’m rich? How did I never know that?" I kept staring at the very high amount of money and Dad chuckled.

"Because you never cared for it? Since the moment you earned money with racing you only wanted us to transfer a little amount monthly into your account. You didn’t even spent a lot of money for your car? You bought a used one… yeah you lived really frugal!" Dad said and Mum smiled proudly at me.

"Let’s be honest, since the beginning of the year, where Dad increased the amount of money he transferred into your account, how much of it did you really use?" Mum asked and I shrugged my shoulders.

"I mean, I didn’t even know that you increased it? But… not much? During race weeks I don’t need much. When we’re going out, I’m not allowed to pay… Charles is really old school when it comes to that… I only spent money for basic stuff and every once in a while when I go shopping, rather online shopping and for books? Oh yeah and my flights… but that’s it? I didn’t even had to buy my own cars, with Audi gifting them to me." I said and Dad laughed.

"And you’re wondering why there’s so much money in your accounts?"

"I guess it makes sense… but when we talk about money… the karting track, the business accounts etc that’s yours Dad. You put in the whole work. You take care of everything. So it’s just fair when that is your money. No! Dad! Don’t say anything! I’m serious!"

"But as soon as it opens again, and the track makes profit again, 50 % will go straight into your account. That’s what Hans wanted."

"If you insist…" I sighed a little.

"So your first flat… any special wishes?" Mum asked and I nodded a little.

"I want 2 bedrooms, a full bathroom and a guest bathroom, a nice kitchen preferably open to the living room and a balcony. Nothing too big. And yeah… Monaco would be great." I said and they both nodded.

"Talk with a realtor and then let’s see." Dad said and I smiled.

"I think I know the right guy for that…" I said and got up. Finishing packing up. And then Dad drove me to the airport.

"Alright, I see you guys tomorrow!" I hugged him goodbye.

"Yep! And have fun later on… and always smile!" he kissed my cheek and I sighed a little.

"I hate sponsoring events… but I know it’s part of my job…" I waved him goodbye and left.

I smiled for the cameras, talked to some of the guests, took photos here and there and then the little lunch was over, finally. I got in the car that would take me to Monaco and I honestly couldn’t wait. The summer break officially started.

Charles awaited me downstairs, grabbing my suitcases, leading me inside and as soon as the elevator doors were closed he pulled me into him, kissing me passionately.

"I missed you…" he whispered against my lips and I giggled a little.

"Charlie you’ve seen me two days ago!"

"That’s way too long!" he sighed and we entered his flat "I ordered some food, should be here any minute, you can change and then we’ll have a quiet night? Perfect!"

I kissed his cheek and went to the bed room, changing into some sweatpants and a top and then sitting down on the sofa, when I heard Charles talking to someone on the phone. I grabbed my own phone and called the first person that I had in my mind when thinking about buying a flat in Monaco.

"Alright, thanks Riccardo!" I hung up.

"What was that about?" Charles asked and I flinched "Sorry." he kissed my forehead before he sat down, a bag full of take out in his hands.

"I was talking with him about… well he will look for a flat for me…" I said sheepishly and Charles looked at me.

"What? Where? You wanna move out?" he asked and I nodded.

"Here of course?" I laughed and he looked confused "What?"

"You want to move to Monaco?" he said and I nodded "Why would you buy a flat?"

"Umm? To live in it?" I was confused.

"Cara mia, why would you spend millions of euros for a flat here if you could move in with me for free?" he asked and I swallowed.

"Charles… it’s just that…" the look on his face made me stop.

"It’s just that you don’t want to live with me? That’s it…" he said and I shook my head.

"No! Charles it’s not like that! But… hey! Please look at me! I would love to live with you! But Charles, we’re only together for what? 3 months now?" I began and he rolled his eyes "I never lived alone! Not once! I just want to have my own place first… it’s an experience I don’t want to miss out on…"

"Hmm, okay." Charles mumbled and got up.

"Please, don’t be mad!" I pleaded and he looked at me.

"I’m not mad… it’s just… sometimes I feel like… I feel like you don’t trust this… us… or at least not entirely. But yeah, it’s your decision in the end…" he walked away and I sighed. Great. But before I could get up and follow him, he returned with cutlery that was missing, as I just realised now.

"But if you move here, then we need to look for a building with good security! And an underground parking garage! I don’t want fans and whatever other crazy people are out there swarm you when you park your car in the streets and want to get in your house!" he said and began to eat.

"Okay wait… a minute ago you said you have the feeling that I’m not sure about us and now you’re talking about my safety?" I asked confused.

"And? I can have my doubts from time to time and still love you and care about your safety?" he answered and I rolled my eyes. "What?"

"That sucks!" I breathed out and he put his knife and fork down.

"What? That it makes me insecure when you say things like we’re only dating for, we’re only been together for, it’s only a short time that we’re together, and so on? Yeah… that sucks for me too, because I never not once heard you refer to us as a couple in a serious relationship… and that’s okay… but I can be upset about it." he said and I looked at him. Then I began to eat and Charles picked up his cutlery.

"I’m sorry… that I make you feel this way about us…" I said after a while.

"Don’t be… I know you long enough to know that you need time to adjust to this… it’s okay. But like I said, I don’t have to be happy about it, but that doesn’t mean that I’m mad at you or love you less. Because I never could. Never less." he replied and I felt myself blushing for some reason.

"Why did you never say something? That it’s something that bothers you?"

"I don’t know… a part of me said that I shouldn’t care about it, because I know how you feel and I know that what we have is real and strong and serious and… I don’t know, I guess a little part of me was still scared that you might change your mind, with everything that is going on already, and when you said these things… I kinda felt insecure?" he sighed a little and I took his hands.

"I’m sorry… really! I didn’t knew, I always thought that you had so much confidence… in this. In us." I looked at him and he smiled.

"I have, Lizzie! 100%. But yeah a teeny tiny part of me is still scared to lose you… and I think I made a big deal out of nothing."

"No, don’t say that, please. If something like this bothers you? God! Even hurts you? Then please tell me. You and I. This. It’s real. A real and serious relationship." I kissed his cheek and I could swear his cheeks were turning slightly red.

"Thank you." Charles whispered and I just smiled at him.

"Will you tell me now what you have planned for us?" I asked and he chuckled.

"Nope. You gotta wait and see."

Charles POV:

"Why aren’t Benji and Marcus and Lisa here?" Liam asked and I sighed.

"They are invited to a friend’s wedding, so they stay there for a bit."

"But then I’m the only kid… that’s boring." he pouted and I had to laugh.

"Oh come on! Arthur is here as well!" I said.

"I heard that!" Arthur shouted from behind me "We will keep you entertained, don’t worry!"

"See! Arthur to the rescue!" I laughed and Liam nodded.

"Okay. But we do fun stuff for kids as well? Not just for grown ups?" he asked and I rolled my eyes.

"You know that I like fun stuff for kids way more than grown up stuff!"

"Just the grown up stuff with your auntie he loves to do…" Arthur chuckled under his breath and I hit him, while Liam looked at him confused.

"What does that mean?" he asked immediately and I groaned.

"You take care of that!" I whisper shouted to Arthur and got up.

I walked down the stairs to the pool where Lizzie laid on one of the sun beds, basking in the sun. I sat down next to her and heard a soft little snore coming from her and laid down next to her. As if she could feel my presence, she rolled over and snuggled up to my side. I smiled to myself, thinking that this would be my life for the rest of my days. I closed my eyes and relaxed when after a while someone tapped my shoulder and I looked up.

"Hey Bubba." I smiled at him and he rubbed his eyes a little, looking tired. I patted the sun bed next to me "Come here, it’s nap time." he smiled and laid down next to me, doing the same like his aunt, snuggling into my side. He yawned a little and wiggled around "What’s the matter? Not comfy?"

"The sun is too bright." he mumbled and I chuckled a little.

"I’m sorry, but that’s something I can’t change unfortunately."

He sighed and climbed on me, burying his face in the crook of my neck.

"That’s better." he whispered and I laughed.

"As long as you’re comfy!" I put my arm around him to make sure he won’t fall off and closed my eyes again.

I stretched a little when I opened my eyes and looked to my left, Lizzie was gone but Liam still snuggled onto my chest.

"You look so cute, I don’t want to wake him, but Sissy said that he gets grumpy if he sleeps for too long…" Lizzie whispered as she sat down next to me.

"Did you have a good nap?" I asked her and she nodded "Perfect. Now let’s wake up this little munchkin…" I gently rubbed his back, tickled his sides a little and Liam began to wiggle around "Come on Bubba! Wake up!" I cooed and he yawned a little before he slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes.

"Can we go swimming, Charlie?" he asked, voice still sleepy.

"Let’s fully wake up first, have something to drink and maybe a little snack? And then later on we go swimming?"

"Okay." he snuggled back into my chest and I laughed.

"That doesn’t mean we go back to sleep!" I said and Lizzie gently stroked his back.

"Carry me. Too tired." Liam mumbled and I sighed, getting up.

"Okay, my little Bubba. I’ll carry you." I said and walked up the stairs towards the house.

"He has you wrapped around his little finger." Lizzie laughed and we walked inside.

"Something you Doetterer’s are really good at." Arthur chimed in and Lizzie laughed even more.

"Could you stop with your comments?" I groaned and he just shook his head.

"I’m just saying the truth." he shrugged his shoulders and plopped down on the sofa.

"Carla? Could you please make your boyfriend behave?" I said to her and she laughed.

"He’s your brother, if anyone can do it then it’s… oh wait. Yeah, your mum." she said and Lizzie sat down next to her, laughing. I sat Liam down next to her and walked to the kitchen, opening the fridge to grab something to drink.

"There is a fruit plate in the fridge." Marina said as she and Maman walked in, both carrying bags full of groceries in.

"Do you need help?" I asked but Lorenzo and Juergen walked in next, hands full as well.

"No we have these two, carrying our stuff for us." Maman said and I chuckled a little.

"Here." I handed Liam a water bottle and put some on the coffee table before I grabbed the fruit plate and put it next to the drinks.

"Yummy!" Liam sat up and grabbed a melon slice and then two more, handing one to Carla and one to Lizzie.

"What about me?" Arthur asked and Liam chuckled.

"You have to impress the ladies, not the boys." he said and I laughed out loud, almost slipping off the arm rest of the sofa.

"You heard it, you have to impress me!" Carla said and Arthur rolled his eyes sitting up, grabbing a slice of melon for himself.

"Here." Liam handed her some strawberries and then turned to Arthur wiggling his eyebrows.

"I might want a boyfriend upgrade." Carla chuckled, pinching Liams cheek.

"Yeah, me too!" Lizzie looked at me and I immediately handed her some more fruits "Or maybe not… we’ll see." I kissed her head when I walked back to the kitchen, helping to store away the groceries, listening in on Lorenzo’s and Juergen’s conversation.

"I can take a look at the accounts if you want to. It shouldn’t be too hard to separate the business accounts from the private ones." Lorenzo said and Juergen nodded.

"Hans’ karting track?" I asked and they both nodded "Everything alright?"

"Yeah. It’s just a bit messy with the accounting. I want it to be clearly divided between Lizzie’s inheritance and the business accounts. He left her a huge amount of money." Juergen said.

"Yeah, Lizzie told me that he was really generous?"

"Generous? That’s not even enough to fathom what he left her."

"He loved her a lot." I shrugged my shoulders.

"That he did."

"And the business accounts are also very well stocked. So all the plans you have are fully covered. The remodel and renovation will be amazing." Lorenzo said and I smiled, knowing that Lizzie would be more than happy to see the karting track shine again, under the lead of her dad.

"But when we are talking about the inheritance… did Lizzie tell you that she wants to move to Monaco?" Juergen asked and I nodded.

"Yeah. We talked about it…" I said sitting down at the counter.

"You don’t seem happy about it?" Lorenzo asked and Juergen looked up from the sink.

"I am happy. Really. We just had a little… well it wasn’t a fight or anything, let’s say we had a little disagreement. That’s it."

"And what was it about? Is it settled?" Juergen looked at me.

"I told her that I don’t understand why she would spend millions for a flat if she could just move in with me… I mean, let’s be honest, as soon as she lives in Monaco, I will be at her place all the time or she’ll be at mine… it’s a waste of money…" waiting for their reaction, almost expecting them to have the same one as Lizzie.

"You’re right. It will be a waste of money… but it’s her money…" Juergen said and I looked up "What? You thought I had a different opinion? Maybe like Lizzie? I know my daughter… she wasn’t happy with your suggestion?"

"Not really. No." I sighed.

"I want what’s best for her, and if she decides to move away, I would feel a lot more relieved to know that she lives with you… but I won’t say anything. She has set a budget. She has a little list with things that she wants."

"Yeah. That list was a joke! 2 bedrooms, 1.5 bathrooms, nice kitchen, open floor plan and a balcony. That was it? No, I told her already that it has to be a building with high security. Underground parking. A good neighbour hood…" I began but Lorenzo and Juergen laughed.

"Oh come on, Charles. It’s Monaco! Every neighbour hood is a good neighbour hood." Juergen said but I rolled my eyes.

"I meant that I want her close… to, you know, check in every now and then…" I said.

"You mean you want her in close range for a booty call." Arthur appeared next to me and Lorenzo laughed, Juergen cocked an eyebrow and I just slapped the back of his head.

"What is wrong with you? Are you serious?" I said furiously.

"I’m just saying what everyone is thinking!" he held up his hands but I shook my head.

"Then be like everyone else and just think it!" I got up and left.

"Oh come on! I’m just messing with you! Charles?" Arthur said but I flipped him off and grabbed Liam.

"Come on, let’s go swimming." I said and he giggled excitedly.

"Yay!"

"I think he has a little crush on Carla." I said to Charles who looked up from his book just in time to see how Liam handed Carla a bottle of water and then blushed when she gave him a little peck on the cheek, giggling like crazy and running away.

"He’s a charming little fella, no one is immune against those puppy eyes… I know what I’m talking about." he kissed my shoulder and I laughed.

"Poor Arthi, at the end of this trip he’ll be single!" I leaned back and Charles chuckled.

"When do we have the dinner reservation?" Sissy asked as she walked out on the terrace, sitting down on a lounger next to us.

"Half past 6. We‘ll meet you guys there. I want to go back to that cute little bookstore. They had so many beautiful special editions, the illustrations are gorgeous." I said and Charles nodded.

"Okay." Sissy said and I checked the time.

"Alright I’ll go upstairs and get ready" I said and got up and went to our bedroom, taking a quick shower and getting ready.

"You look pretty…" Charles said as he walked in, big smile on his face.

"Thanks." I said and looked in the mirror, Charles stepping behind me.

"I always loved your hair like that, in summer. It’s brighter, and the salt water makes it wavy. And you get these cute tiny freckles on your nose, almost invisible, just if you come close enough you can see them." he kissed my nose and I giggled.

"Stop it! If we want to have enough time at the book store, we need to go now! So hurry up! Get ready!" I scolded him a little.

"Almost done!" he chuckled and took a shower, dressed up and was ready to go in under 15 minutes.

"When you can do it this fast? Why do you need almost an hour usually?" I asked as we walked downstairs, out to the car.

"Because I like to take my time." he opened my door and pushed me gently in.

"So when I get ready, you keep on nagging me to hurry up. But when you get ready you just take your damn time instead of hurrying, just like me?" I asked and he nodded.

"Yup, pretty much it."

"You’re an ass."

"Your ass."

"My ass." I sighed dramatically.

"Why did I knew that we would be the first ones here, although we took our damn time in that bookstore?" we walked inside the restaurant, no ones else there.

"Maybe they’re sitting outside?" Charles asked a waiter "Or not. He said we could sit outside as long as they’re preparing our tables. Come on pretty girl, I ordered us something to drink." I followed him outside, on the terrace overlooking the harbour. He pulled out my chair and I sat down.

"Thank you." I smiled at him and he sat down next to me, both facing the busy harbour "It’s so beautiful here… I’m gonna miss this. It was quiet. Peaceful."

"Yeah. It was great just being us. Hugging and kissing you, carefree. No cameras. No fans. No pressure." he sighed a little and put his hand on my thigh underneath the table, gently stroking my naked skin that was peaking out from my dress. The waiter put down our drinks and told us that our table was ready for us but we could enjoy the drinks first.

"Cheers, to the first part of our journey." Charles said and we toasted our glasses when someone behind us called out Charles name.

"Charles? Is that you?" a male voice asked in French and we turned around.

"Fred? Hi! What are you doing here?" Charles wanted to get up from his chair, but Fred patted his arm and leaned down and they hugged.

"Lizzie! It’s so good to see you again!" he leaned down to me and we kissed cheeks "I hope they all treat you right in the paddock?"

"Umm… sure…" I said and he chuckled.

"I hope they try to at least…" he said and I nodded "Good! That’s really good!" he smiled and then looked at our table and the two drinks "So, am I interrupting a date? Are you two finally a couple?"

I chocked on my drink and Charles handed me a napkin.

"We’re not- umm… no. We’re here with our family!" Charles stammered and Fred laughed, patting his back.

"I know how love looks, boy. And you loved this girl here even back in F2 when she was testing for us and you were testing for Haas." he said and I felt my cheeks turning red "But I understand… it’s a secret! I won’t tell anyone!" he zipped his mouth shut and Charles smiled appreciatively "Just make sure to name your first son after me!" he laughed and now Charles blushed as well a little.

Before one of us could say anything more, Liam run up to us.

"I’m heeeeereeee!" he screeched and then stopped abruptly when he saw Fred "Oh."

"Liam, this is Fred. He was my team principal when I started in F1." Charles introduced him and Liam smiled shyly up at Fred.

"Hi." Liam held his hand out and Fred took it in his, shaking it.

"Hello Liam, we already met once! You were a baby back then." he said and Liam made big eyes.

"I was at a race as a baby?" he asked excitedly.

"Yup you were, Bubba!" Charles said and Liam clapped excitedly, as the rest of our family finally caught up to Liam. They all said their hellos with Fred before he had to leave.

"It was nice to see you all! Enjoy the rest of your break, you two! See you around!" he waved goodbye and was gone, right as a waiter came to bring us to our table.

When the conversations died down a little and we were ready to leave, we drove back to our rental house, sitting around the fire pit.

"I don’t want you two to leave!" Liam pouted a little while climbing into Charles’ lap.

"I know Bubba. But we see you in Spa? That’s in 2 weeks already! And tomorrow Benji will come and you have another week here! That’s not too bad now?" he said gently and Liam nodded slowly.

"Hmm okay. You’re right." he whispered, playing with one of Charles’ bracelets "But I’ll miss you."

"You know that I miss you every day when I don’t see you?" Charles whispered back and Liam looked up at him.

"Really?" he asked and Charles hugged him close.

"Of course, Bubba!" Charles kissed his head and Liam cuddled up into his embrace "Here, take that and whenever you miss me, look at the bracelet!" Charles slipped the bracelet Liam played before off of his wrist and put it around Liams wrist, making it tighter.

"I can really keep it?" Liams eyes sparkled and Charles nodded.

"Thank you." he threw his arms around Charles’ neck and giggled a little. After a while he got up and started to read in one of his books.

We all sat together, talking, when Liam brought Carla a little blanket and put it around her shoulders, when he saw her shivering a bit.

"Oh Liam! You’re a real little gentleman! Thank you!" she kissed his cheek and he blushed a little, returning to his seat giggling.

"He’s a real charmer!" I whispered to Charles.

"He learned from the best!" he said proudly and I laughed "Why are you laughing? I’m serious?"

"Yeah! Of course you are!" I said and he pinched my side.

"What? I’m not charming?" he asked me and cocked an eyebrow.

"Very, very charming!" I smiled at and kissed him "The most charming person I know."

"Thank you." he kissed my cheek as Arthur plopped down next to Liam, holding his heart like he was in pain.

"You okay, Arthi?" Liam looked up at him.

"No! You little munchkin! You have to stop or my girlfriend will leave me!" Arthur sighed dramatically.

"For me?" he asked and I had to suppress my laughter.

"You’re a little too young, Bubba. But you are just too charming and cute! I can’t keep up with you! So, can you pleeeeaaase tone it down a bit?" Arthur pleaded a little and Liam chuckled.

"Okay. But when I’m older and she still wants a boyfriend upgrade, I‘ll be there!"

"Deal!" Arthur pulled Liam to his side and ruffled his hair and I laughed out loud.

"Liam’s crush on Carla and Arthur sweating because Bubba might or might not steal away his girlfriend really was my highlight of this trip!" I whispered and Charles nodded.

"Definitely!"

"5 days just straight party?" I sighed and leaned back on the sun bed and Charles next to me laughed.

"What? Too old to keep up?" he cocked an eyebrow and I slapped his thigh.

"No but a week full of running around with Liam was exhausting after a very tiring first half of the season!" I said, closing my eyes, ignoring the tension I felt for a couple of weeks now in my back.

"You’re the youngest of us and you’re the one complaining?" Shima laughed and I flinched.

"You’re here!" I screeched and jumped up, hugging first her and then Daniel.

"We’re here. We’re ready. Let’s party!" Daniel said and hugged first Charles then Joris "Where’s the other happy couple?"

"Still in their room. Marta doesn’t feel too well." Charles said.

"Oh okay." Daniel said and sat down on one of the loungers "Is it too early for a drink?"

"I already had a breakfast margarita." I chuckled and he cocked an eyebrow.

"What is a breakfast margarita?"

"A margarita she drank during breakfast…" Charles laughed and I shrugged my shoulders.

"We’re in Ibiza to have fun I thought?"

"You are absolutely right, cara mia. We are!" Charles pinched my side and we ordered another round of drinks, toasting to the next days.

"So, the first half of your first season in Formula 1 is done. Top 3 of your favourite races and Top 3 of your worst..." Joris said and Charles rolled his eyes.

"Guys! No talking about work!" he groaned and I chuckled.

"Don’t be so grumpy! Okay. Worst. Top 3. Let’s see. In third place Miami, I mean… I DNFd. In second place… umm Imola and Barcelona? They were both not my best performances. But the top spot is fucking Montreal. That whole weekend was cursed!" I took a big sip of my cocktail, while Joris contemplated my answers.

"I would’ve thought Miami would be your number 1… because you know…" he said and I laughed.

"Because so DNFd? I mean, wasn’t the best weekend, but it was a new track with almost zero data to compare. No, it wasn’t the worst."

"Okay. Now you Charles." Daniel said and Charles sat up, sighing.

"Okay, if I have too. Third Miami. Second Imola. First France."

"But you won Miami?" Shima asked and Joris looked at him confused.

"Yeah but I also almost lost Lizzie, again." his voice was void of any emotion. It’s sounded more like a straight fact.

"The crash wasn’t that bad! Come on!" I took his hand in mine.

"But I didn’t know that. You didn’t respond. And the marshals had to get you out of the car… I didn’t know how bad or not it was." Charles voice was quiet, and he looked down.

"But I was- I am okay." I squeezed his hand and made him look at me "It’s all good."

"I know…"

"Okay… it’s getting a little too sad here. Top 3 of your best now go!" Joris clapped his hands and pointed to me.

"Third was Australia. What a race! And a freaking P2! Second… oh yeah! Bahrain! First race first podium! And first obviously Silverstone!" I lifted my glass to the sky and drank on Hans.

"Good picks. Charles?"

"Third Austria. Second Australia and first Miami." he said and now we all looked at him confused "As bad as it was… I didn’t just win the race that day. I also-" Charles began but I had to interrupt him.

"If you say no something cheesy like but you also won the race to my heart… I’ll push you in the pool!" I cocked an eyebrows and Joris and Shima nodded agreeing.

"I help you, Lizzie."

"Me too!"

"Oh come on! It’s cute!" Daniel chimed in he and Charles high fived, before Charles stood up.

"In first place Miami because I won the race on track and the race to mon amours heart!" he cannon balled into the pool and I had to laugh "Come on in! Let’s start the party!" Charles waved for us to join him and I followed his lead, Joris, Daniel and Shima right on my heels.

"IBIZA HERE WE GO!"

Shima, Marta and I sat cramped together on the bathroom floor of Charles’ and mine bathroom, doing our make up and our hairs.

"I think I just do a little glitter here and there and a little eyeliner and that’s it!" I said and Shima laughed, straightening her hair.

"You mean I do your eyeliner."

"Exactly." I laughed and Marta handed me the hair straightener and I smiled at her "And I’m so glad that you’re feeling better again!"

"Me too! The first 3 days of Ibiza and I had a stomach bug." she said looking a little flustered.

"Are you sure you’re okay?" I asked her and she nodded.

"Of course! Sure my stomach is still a little sensitive but it’s fine. Water and coke for me tonight. I don’t need alcohol to party with my friends!"

"I don’t need it… but I want it!" Shima laughed and Marta and I joined in "Will you show us now your dress?"

"Ooouuuhhh yeah! I’m dying to see it!" Marta agreed and I rolled my eyes.

"It’s nothing that special! It’s just a little… well you’ll see!" I said and we got up, leaving the bathroom and the 2 girls sat down on our bed "Okay, I’ll put it on!" I grabbed the black dress and left hurriedly. I took off my shirt and shorts and looked at the dress. Now that I had it in my hand I was a little worried. But I put it on and turned around, looking into the mirror "Wow…" I mumbled, that was short and tight.

"Come on! Let us see!" Shima screeched and I stepped out of the bathroom, both of them staring at me "Oh my god…"

"Lizzie…" Marta began and I was nervously looking down.

"Bad?" I asked and Shima snapped her head up.

"What?"

"Does it look bad?" I asked.

"Lizzie, babe, you look smoking hot. Charles will jump you as soon as he sees you!" Shima said and got up.

"You look amazing! That dress looks like fire on you!" Marta followed Shima and I turned around to look into the floor to ceiling tall mirror.

"Isn’t it a little… too tight and too short?" I asked and Shima shook her head.

"Absolutely not!" she said and Marta next to her nodded.

I looked back into the mirror, smoothing the dress down. Turning to the side a little, trying to look at myself from all angles, the dress was short ending way above my knees, I would have to tuck it down the whole night, too feel fully covered. It was tight, hugging my body almost like a second skin.

"I really like the cut out at the cleavage and that it’s a one shoulder dress but still showing off your amazing boobs that you usually hide." Shima said and I laughed.

"Thanks, I guess?"

"No seriously, Lizzie. You look amazing! Charles will have a hard time tonight to keep his hands to himself." Marta smiled and Shima looked at my feet.

"What shoes are we wearing?" she asked and I turned around.

"Don’t freak out now!" I said sheepishly and Shimas eyes widened. I walked to my closet and grabbed the black satin bag.

"I’m not dreaming… Jimmy Choo’s?" she almost whispered and I nodded handing her the bag and she opened it, taking the shoes out carefully "Look at them… they’re gorgeous. If I could I would make love to them…" I chuckled and walked back to the closet, taking another pair of high heels out.

"But Lizzie? That’s the wrong size?" she looked up right as I slipped in my second shoe.

"Happy Birthday!" I said and Shima screeched loud, pulling me into a tight hug.

"My dress! My hair! Watch out!" I laughed.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she kissed my cheek and slipped the shoes immediately on "Oh god they feel so good!"

"They look fabulous!" Marta smiled and put her own high heels on "Are we ready to dance the night away?"

"Hell yeah!" Shima and I said simultaneously and we all laughed.

I took a long look in the mirror, smoothing the fabric of the dress down.

"You look amazing, girl! Stop fidgeting!" Shima rolled her eyes a little and I swallowed hard.

"She’s right, Lizzie. You look awesome!" Marta said softly and I sighed a little, nodding slowly. The dress was amazing. The shoes were amazing. And I didn’t look too bad wearing it. After seeing a Twitter thread 2 weeks ago, a very viral one, criticising again the way I dressed, saying it was too boring, not fashionable enough, not feminine enough, I thought a lot about it. I knew that I shouldn’t care about it, that I should ignore it. But for some reason I couldn’t get the comments out of my head. I never cared much for the newest fashion trends, I mostly wore outfits that I liked, if they weren’t modern or fancy or fashionable? I didn’t care. But the comments got worse and worse. And I decided to do something against it and bought some clothes that were way out of my comfort zone. Just like tonight’s dress.

"Hey? Lizzie? Everything alright?" Shima said, interrupting my train of thoughts, and I nodded.

"Yeah, sure. Let’s go!" I grabbed my bag and took one last look in the mirror before we left the room. I can do this. Shima and Marta said I looked great and if I decided to not believe them, then Charles reaction was everything reassurance that I needed.

"No. We’re staying in tonight." were his first words and I cocked an eyebrow "Cara mia, I might end up in jail tonight. For kicking every guys ass who dares to just take a little glimpse of you! I won’t spare you just because you’re my friend, Joris, I’ve seen your look!"

"Okay now stop!" I laughed and hit his shoulder playfully, but he pulled me into him, his mouth close to my ear. His lips ghosting over my earlobe.

"Cara mia, I’m dead serious. You look incredible tonight. The most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. And the hottest one for sure…" nothing more than a breath on my skin and I shuddered a little.

"Okay, save that for later. Now we go partying!" Shima pushed Charles and me to make us walk and we followed the rest of the group, Charles walking behind me "Stop staring at her ass, Leclerc!"

"I can’t. It’s captivating."

"Gross."

"Shut up, Birthday girl."

Marta and Riccardo were dancing in their own little bubble, Joris and Daniel were talking and Charles was standing next to them, watching me dance with Shima.

"He can’t take his eyes off of you!" Shima shouted in my ear and I smiled a little, the alcohol making me blush harder than usually.

"Oh come on!" I laughed but she just shook her head.

"You’re so annoying, babe! You look gorgeous! You’re smoking hot and your equally hot boyfriend is practically undressing you with his eyes right now! Can you please acknowledge that?" she rolled her eyes.

"I can acknowledge that he is smoking hot, because look around, basically every girl is staring at him!" I waved my hand around and Shima followed it.

"Yeah of course they all keep staring at him! But look at him? He only has eyes for you! You can see that, right?"

"I guess so…" I let out.

"Hey? It’s Charles? He loves you? Why are you doubting that all of a sudden?" she looked at me intently and I sighed.

"Because lately… I don’t know, Shima. He’s so… and I’m just…" I was at a loss of words and she cocked an eyebrow "I need to go to the toilet, I’ll be right back, okay?" I said and she nodded, hesitantly, but let me go.

I locked the door of the bathroom stall behind me and took a deep breath. The door opened and the music from the stage got louder before the door closed again and the music was only a faint background noise.

"That was 100% Charles Leclerc!" a girl said and I tensed up.

"He looked hot, as always! We should definitely try and talk with him, shoot our shot…" another girl laughed.

"He must feel miserable! There are his friends making out with each other, and then he’s there alone with no one!" a third voice.

"But isn’t the German driver here as well? His rumoured girlfriend?"

"Oh come on! All those little fan girlies who want them to be together? There’s a reason why they’re just friends for what? 10 years?"

"He looks like a Greek god and she just like any normal girl?"

"Totally! She’s nothing special. He needs someone with class, someone elegant, hot! And not that driver."

"Isn’t she also an alcoholic? Wasn’t there a video where she was totally hammered early in the day already?" I felt my mouth becoming dry.

"Yes! I remember! You also saw her disgusting scars. Ewww." A lump formed inside my throat.

"Yeah. I get it. He’s just a nice guy who hangs out with her out of pity… he deserves better! He deserves a girl by his side tonight!"

"He can be lucky and get one of us!"

They all started laughing, leaving the bathroom. I leaned against the door. Trying to breathe steadily. I felt tears stinging in my eyes and grabbed some toilet paper, dabbing my eyes. I saw the looks of every girl around us the whole night. Ogling Charles up and down. He looked ravishing. Like always. Of course I couldn’t compare to him. But hiding in a bathroom stall wouldn’t help me either, so I braced myself and took one last deep breath unlocking the door. I washed my hands and walked out. Right to the VIP area next to the stage, where we were partying the last hours. I grabbed a water from the bar and made my way up the few steps as I stopped abruptly. 3 girls dancing around Charles, Joris and Daniel. One whispering something in Charles ear. I turned around and walked back to the bar. Exchanging my water against a tequila shot and then another one, ordering a third one not daring to look into the VIP area. Someone bumped into me and I turned around, one of the girls who just danced with Joris and Daniel standing now behind me, looking from me to the bar, 3 empty shot glasses in front of me. She snickered and pinched her other friend, pointing at the glasses. They both looked at me and then walked off. I could hear the words alcoholic and slutty dress. I ordered a cocktail and sat down.

"Lizzie? Hey? You got lost on your way to the bathroom?" Shima squeezed my arm and I looked at her "Why are you sitting here? Drinking all alone?"

"Because there are much prettier girls here in the club, they want a chance with him… and they’re right… he deserves a pretty one… elegant, classy, gorgeous! Not me, bulky and muscular, not lady like…" I slurred, the alcohol clearly showing.

"What are you even talking about? Where is this all coming from all of a sudden?" Shima was confused but I just chuckled and turned her around to look at the VIP area.

"See? That girl talking with Charles? She’s gorgeous! Look at her, Shima! She is the kind of girl people expect by his side. Not someone like me!" I sighed, sipping at my cocktail.

"Okay, you had enough to drink, come on. I don’t know why you say things like that? Did someone say something to you?" she grabbed my hand, dragging me with her away from the crowd and the stage to the side, where it was way more quiet and we didn’t had to yell at each other. We sat down on a sofa.

"What’s happening, Lizzie? Something is bothering you. I’ve seen it for the past couple of days. But tonight especially? You’re not really doubting him?" Shima asked me quietly and I shook my head, getting dizzy and sitting down.

"I don’t doubt him! Not one second! You have no idea how amazing he is! I mean… you all can see how he treats me? But that’s not all… it’s those quiet moments, when it’s just him and I. Alone. Doesn’t matter if it’s just in bed or the sofa, doing some work-outs together. He’s perfect. Seriously. I don’t even know how he’s putting up with me? I’m not like him! He lays his heart and soul out before me. He’s so attentive and affectionate. Outspoken! God he knows how to use words that melt you like hot butter. He’s so sure of us. And then there’s me? I’m insecure and in my head. I never know how to be affectionate like him, without being to clingy? How to be attentive without being annoying? I’m just scared that I’ll do too much of everything… and I’m not good with words or with explaining my emotions. I’m just not like him. I wish I could! I swear! Since we’re together I wish I could be more like him. Show him how much I love him? That he means the world to me… but I just don’t know how… and then there’s… umm-" I let it all out, the alcohol making me lose any filter, although I stopped abruptly, not knowing how to explain what was bothering me really.

"That disgusting Twitter feed you keep reading over and over?" Shima asked and I looked at her with big eyes "I’ve seen it on your iPad… Lizzie you do know that these are just some insecure, jealous bitches? They know that they never will have a chance with Charles and so they lash out? And because you and Charles are this close you’re their target!" she took my hand in hers and squeezed it.

"But they’re not wrong about everything! You can say about Camille what you want, but they looked amazing together! She looked like a model! Straight out of a magazine and me? I don’t even want to start…"

"Honestly? Don’t you have mirrors? I don’t know how you can look like this and honestly think you’re what? Not pretty enough for Charles? You know that I’m always honest with you? So please believe me when I say that you’re beautiful! Everyone would be happy to be seen with you! Just like Charles! Lizzie he doesn’t want anyone else! He wants you! Just you! And you are beautiful and gorgeous! I mean we could do something with your hair… I always said that I think long and wavy hair with maybe some warm highlights would look awesome! And we could get rid of these team shirts for race weekends and put you into something cute and fancy! But that’s just little things…" Shima looked at me and I laughed a little.

"Yeah not gonna happen! It’s hard enough to get this amount of hair tucked into my suit and under my helmet without restraining me! And nope! Team merch it is! Maybe we could go more casual with how we combine it here and there but that’s it!"

"Okay! But can you do me a favour? Can you please accept that you’re smoking hot and beautiful and amazing and perfect and that Charles loves you! Just you!"

"We don’t want to exaggerate! The way I am is perfectly fine!" I laughed and she groaned.

"You’re frustrating! So frustrating! I need a drink now! Hop hop! Let’s go!" Shima jumped up and pulled me with her.

"Not so fast please. I think I need a water… I had too much to drink." I mumbled and she laughed.

"3 shots and a cocktail in what? 15 minutes? Yeah I would feel like shit as well…" Shima held my hand and we walked to the bar, where I got a water and almost emptied the bottle in one go. I looked back into the VIP area, where a new girl was at Charles’ site, another beautiful, sweet girl. Shima followed my look and sighed.

"Come on. Let’s go up there and dance." she said and I nodded, grabbing another water bottle.

As soon as we walked up the stairs Charles was next to me, gently pulling me to the side, leaning down to say something.

"Hey pretty girl, where were you? I thought one of your many admirers whisked you away from me!" he chuckled a little, his breath tickling my ear.

"My many admirers? Have you looked around? Every single girl in here keeps staring at you!" I answered and although I tried to sound amused, I failed and my voice cracked a little.

"Really? I didn’t notice that, because the only thing I saw was you… in that dress… and my imagination of that same dress on the floor of our room later tonight…" he whispered and my cheeks began to burn with heat.

"Oh come on…" I giggled and Charles eyes grew dark.

"Mhhh I can’t wait to get rid of that dress…" he gently stroked my sides with his hand, smoothing down the fabric of my dress "I will rip is straight off of your body…"

"The hell you do! Do you know how expensive that dress was! We’ll take it off nice and carefully!"

"I’ll buy you a new one. Or ten new ones, I don’t care! But you… you look just so incredibly gorgeous and so freaking sexy in it… my second favourite outfit on you!"

"And what’s your favourite?"

He leaned in even closer, his lips brushing now my ear.

"Wouldn’t you like to know…" he chuckled.

I was about to say something when the brunette, who talked with Charles when Shima and I came back, lightly tapped his arm. He turned around and he smiled at her, a big, genuine and hearty smile. And my stomach dropped.

"I just wanted to say goodbye! It was good to see you!" the girl said and Charles nodded.

"Yeah it was good to see you too, Charlotte." he said and Charlotte looked at me.

"I always said to Marta that you two would make a beautiful couple." she smiled at me and I looked at her with big eyes.

"Lizzie, this is Charlotte. We went to school together. She and Marta are close friends." Charles introduced us and I smiled shyly at her "Don’t worry, she won’t tell anyone…"

"I mean if they pay me a million… who knows…" she laughed and I had to laugh with her.

"I don’t think that we’re this important, but honestly, if anyone offers you that much? You have my blessings."

"I will keep that in mind! Have a good night you two! And a good rest of your summer break!" she pulled me in a hug and looked at me apologetic "I’m sorry! I’m a hugger!" she laughed and I smiled.

I just smiled as she hugged Charles and then left with a last wave. I watched her walk away and Charles squeezed my waist.

"I think we got interrupted…" he smiled at me, pulling me even closer to him.

"Yeah you wanted to tell me what your favourite outfit one me is!"

"Was I now?" Charles breathed it in my ear and I began to shiver. He planted a little kiss right underneath my jawline and pulled back, smiling at me. I let out a long, shaking breath and he leaned back in, his lips now touching my ear and I felt goosebumps erupt all over my body, my heart almost jumping out of my breast.

"That red lace lingerie set…"

Charles POV:

"Morning." Joris mumbled and plopped down in the chair next to me when I watched Lizzie and Daniel talking while loading up their plates "Earth to Charles? You there?"

"What?" I looked at him and he sighed.

"Can we today just hang out and do nothing? I’m done…" he mumbled and I just nodded.

"Yeah yeah, sure." I said as Lizzie’s phone vibrated next to mine. I glanced down and scoffed. A message from Paul. They were texting? I felt the urge to grab the phone and read the message. I hated this guy.

"Okay, you’re not listening to me…" Joris huffed and got up, right as Daniel and Lizzie sat down.

"Who’s not listening?" Daniel asked and Joris waved to me "Why aren’t you listening?"

"Doesn’t matter." I got up and followed Joris, grabbing myself some food, although I lost my appetite. I saw how Lizzie tapped away on her phone, laughing and shaking her head. Oh? What did Paul say that’s so funny?

"Mate! What is wrong with you?" Joris slapped my arm and I looked at him, then the mess I made with the orange juice in front of me "You and Lizzie? All good? Don’t look at me like that! Spill the beans!"

"This mechanic? The guy I told you about? He comments on every post, always flirting, Lizzie doesn’t see it… I mean she sees the comments but she doesn’t think that he’s flirting! Last night? He commented that she’s a hot mess! And one of her mechanics replied that he’s shooting his shot! And then…"

"You didn’t reply? Right? You didn’t say something stupid, staking your claim on her? Right?" Joris groaned.

"What? No? First off, staking my claim on her? In what century do you live? And second… I just said that I know her for a while and that he needs to find another target. And that little fucker replied with we‘ll see! He’s so fucking flirting with her!"

I felt my blood boiling when Lizzie threw her head back laughing after reading a new text. Fucking Paul. I walked back and sat down, Lizzie squeezing my thigh, smiling up at me.

"Can we just lay at the pool and do nothing? I’m done… last night was a lot." she said and I nodded.

"Sure." I said through gritted teeth when her phone was vibrating again "You’re in great demand today."

"What do you mean?" she asked, looking confused.

"Your phone…"

"Oh yeah. Sorry." she smiled, gently stroking my thigh and I melted away under her touch, right as another text came through, I saw the screen lit up, Paul.

"I’m going to lay down for a little. My head is pounding." I got up and Lizzie looked at me with wide eyes.

"Are you okay? Do you want me to come with you?" she asked, concern in her voice.

"Nope. You have fun texting with Paul." I said coldly and walked away. Ughhh. Jealousy has a really bitter taste. Back in our room I sat down on the bed, feeling bad. I didn’t even know why I was jealous. Lizzie was here with me. In 2 days we would go to Sardinia, just us. A romantic getaway. She was my girlfriend. I already won. And still. The way he looked at her. Always made sure to be close to her. Now even texted her. I groaned in frustrating, falling back down onto the bed. He did this. Not Lizzie. Yet it was her who I let out my frustration on. Again. I rubbed my temples when I heard the door opening. Let her be mad. You deserve it.

"Did you read my messages?" was the first thing she asked and I sat up.

"No."

"Are you sure? Why did you think I was texting with Paul, then?"

"I saw his name on the screen."

"Why did you look at my screen."

"Your phone was right next to mine, it vibrated, I looked down to see whose phone it was. It was yours. With a text from Paul."

"Well it wasn’t…"

"Lizzie. I saw it. He texted you."

"No, he didn’t."

"Why are you lying? I saw his name!" I groaned.

"Did you look closely?"

"What?"

"Did you look closely? Did you actually took my phone and checked the notification or did you just saw the name Paul and that was it."

"The second option but why does that matter?"

"It matters because I, in fact, don’t text with Paul. He sent some stuff into our Audi WhatsApp group."

"Audi WhatsApp group?"

"Audi WhatsApp group. Team group. We send memes and gifs and stuff. Not more. Just some fun stuff. For everyone to read."

"Oh."

"Oh indeed."

"I’m sorry. I just…"

"Save it. I’m here with you! I bought a ton of new outfits for you! I’m sharing a bed with you! I had to watch the last two nights in the club how practically every girl there was trying to flirt with you. YOU! And not once was I jealous! Or mad!"

"I know! Okay! Please Lizzie, I’m sorry! But this guy… I know you don’t want to see it. But he is flirting with you! Like crazy! Yes I know there were some girls, but I not once looked at them! I only had eyes for you! And it’s not like these girls work with me and constantly lure around me! Unlike Paul! That’s the only reason why I’m so fucking jealous. No it’s not even jealousy! It’s more… he’s infuriating me! And you won’t acknowledge what everyone else is seeing!"

"Because it doesn’t matter if he flirts with me or not! I don’t fucking care!"

"I know that! God! I’m not stupid! But it still agitates me! It makes my blood boil. He wants to shoot his shot with you! And you can’t even say that you have a boyfriend because no one can know about us!"

"Is that the real problem here? Are you mad that I want to… I want to keep us a secret? Is that what this is all about?"

"Fucking hell. No! I don’t care about that! I just don’t like that this guy is flirting with you. Period." I breathed out frustrated.

"Okay." Lizzie looked at me.

"Okay?" I asked cautiously.

"Okay." she walked away.

"And now?"

"Now I’m putting on a bathing suit and meet our friends downstairs. You can decide for yourself if you want to stay here and sulk or come with me and hang out with us."

"Are you still mad at me?"

"No. I wasn’t mad at all. I was annoyed because it felt like I was talking with a wall."

"I’m sorry, cara mia." I mumbled and got up, hugging her "I really have no problem with us keeping our relationship a secret! I really just don’t like this guy…"

"I know…" she sighed and kissed my cheek "But why would I care for him if I have you? My Monegasque Prince Charming, who’s an idiot and oh so stupid every now and then?"

"I let that last part slide, but just because you said that I’m your Prince Charming…"

"To our last night in Ibiza!" Joris said and we toasted our glasses.

"To our last night!"

"I have to say that I’m a little glad that we’re leaving tomorrow, even tho I don’t know where to. But partying this much? Exhausting!" I whispered into Charles ear and he nodded.

"I’m just happy to spent some alone time with you!" he whispered back and I smiled.

"Do you have any ideas where you’re going?" Shima asked me and I sighed.

"Nope. Nothing. I only know that we’re flying tomorrow morning at 10. And because we’re taking the jet, I couldn’t even check what flights are leaving…"

"You looked that up?" Charles asked and I nodded "Just relax and enjoy your surprise!"

"Okay, okay!" I said and looked around "You all know where we’re going, right?"

"No clue!"

"No!"

"Nope!"

"No idea."

"Hell yeah!"

We all looked at Joris who looked up from his plate.

"I mean no. Of course not." he said hastily and Shima patted his hand.

"Good cover up!" she laughed.

"It’s okay you guys. Keep your secrets to yourself." I rolled my eyes dramatically.

"Well there is one secret we want to share!" Riccardo said and I looked up. He gently took Martas hand in his and they both smiled at us "We’re having a baby!"

We all jumped up and congratulated and hugged them.

"OH MY GOD!" Joris shouted out pulling Riccardo to his side.

"How amazing!" Shima hugged Marta.

"I can’t believe it!" Charles pulled both of them in his arms with tears in his eyes.

"I’m so happy for you guys!" I said and hugged first Marta and then Riccardo "Now we know what that stomach bug was!"

"Yeah… it began right before we left Monaco. And according to some books I’ve read it might get worse… but it all will be worth it!" Marta smiled, absently rubbing her stomach.

"It will be more than worth it!" I smiled at her "We need to drink on it! Champagne! We need champagne! Oh god no! Wait! You can’t drink!"

"It’s fine. You drink champagne and I have a soda water." Marta said while Charles already ordered 2 bottles of champagne. As soon as the bottles arrived and we all had a full glass in our hand we toasted to Marta and Riccardo.

"To Marta and Riccardo and the little bean, we all can’t wait to meet!" Charles said and looked lovingly at his two friends. When he sat down he put his hand on my thigh gently caressing it "Can you believe it? A baby? A tiny Riccardo or Marta… wow. It’s just… wow!"

"Oh Charlie bear." I whispered and wiped a stray tear off of his "You’re adorable." I kissed his cheek.

"I’m just really happy for them. But also… I mean Andrea and Simon, Julia and Kev and now Marta and Riccardo? Am I getting crazy or are we all growing up slowly?"

"Pretty boy, you turn 25 in October? You do realise that we all are already grown ups?" I chuckled.

"I guess so." he sighed and downed his champagne.

"With Marta and Riccardo now expecting… I’d say you two are next?" Joris said and Charles and I both looked at him with wide eyes.

"What?" we said in unison and they all laughed.

"I was just kidding! But the look on your faces? Priceless!" Joris laughed and Charles shook his hand, putting his hand on my thigh, gently squeezing it.

"Let us both win a championship first, then we can talk again…" he said and I nodded.

"I hold you to that!" Joris said and we laughed.

"I’m sure you do."

Part 2 ➡️

Little Note:

Chapter 23.1 - SUMMER BREAK 🩵🌴☀️ very fluffy, my favourite duo Liam and Charles has some cute moments. Part 2 will be Lizzie and Charles on their romantic getaway ♥️

Please leave a comment/ like/ reblog/ message and tell me how you liked it! I'm dying to hear your thoughts!

If you want to be added to the taglist, drop a comment!

Last but not least, English is not my first language and although I tried my best: please excuse any mistakes I made!

Taglist:

@silkenthusiasts @eugene-emt-roe @sunny44 @itsjustkhaos @glitterquadricorn @aundercover @kakorrhaphiphobia @alittlebitofbooksandmagic @ru-kru @glitterf1 @janeholt3 @maeve-wileyy @18754389 @chiliwhore @hellowgoodbye @queensassybitchsworld @skynel09 @harrysdimple05

All the images I’m using are from Google, Pinterest and Instagram (or self made).

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tarabyte3 · 1 year ago

Text

I Want You to Show Me Weak

Fandom: Andor

Pairing: Kino Loy/F!Reader

Chapter 24/27 (3.9k words)

-> start at chapter 1 <-

<- Chapter 23 | Chapter 24 | Chapter 25 ->

Summary: You're pretty sure Kino Loy hates you. He screams at you, grabs you, and shoves you against the wall, and it's becoming a problem because, well...it shouldn't fluster you as much as it does.

Warnings: Explicit rating, Smut, Prison, Prison sex, minor non-graphic injuries, Dom/Sub, sexual tension, dirty talk, praise, hair-pulling, choking, unprotected sex, oral, angst, orgasm denial, humiliation, slut shaming, references to domestic abuse, discussion of domestic abuse, minor violence, discussion of violence, description of violence, come eating, discussion about sexual assault, allusion to sexual assault

A/N: Hello, friends. It has been many months, but here I am working on finishing this fic. I split what was originally going to be 1 chapter into 2 parts (it got really long, which was overwhelming 😅). So this chapter is a little shorter with no smut, but a week from today will be the rest of it and that will have PLENTY of smut. After not posting something in so long, I just wanted to get something published to stimulate the Kino center of my brain to inspire me to write more. That way I can get this finished sooner rather than later! Also PLEASE take note of the new tags. There is a discussion about hypothetical harassment and assault in this chapter, but no description or specifics are mentioned.

Work title is from "Poison" by Vaults. Chapter title is from "Delicate Dream" by Shana Halligan.

AO3 Link

Chapter 24 - Well, you reap what you sow, and I know that you know what we have is a chance to get off while we can

"Okay, so tell us again exactly how you knew about the fucking floors. Because I'm still confused," Alis says as you both work the joint cylinder into place. He's clearly gotten over being angry at you at this point, which means he's circled back around to being chatty. Not that you're complaining.

"Yeah, I'm actually really curious about it as well." Taybus perks up across from the two of you. "Considering, well, you know…"

"Don't look at me! That was all Threl." You jerk your head in his direction.

Everyone peers over their work to eye Threl expectantly. Even Jevid gives him a bored look, which translates to downright curious when it comes to the grizzled, older man.

"It wasn't that difficult." Threl shrugs off all of your stares without even looking up.

"He's being modest. It was fucking brilliant," you say to the rest of the pod as you pick up your wrench. "Come on, tell them! If I do it, I'll just mess it up."

"Alright. If it will get you all back to work, then fine." Threl lets out a sigh of resignation. Then he straightens up, pulling himself to his full height—the muscle memory of Threl the engineer still ingrained within him, even years later on the other side of the galaxy. It gives you one more glimpse into what he must have been like before prison. "Look, you all know I used to build starships. The construction of the interior rooms and halls isn't that much different than the way they designed this place. Different function maybe, but I know how they think in terms of utility and cost. So when I look at the layout of this place and what kind of things made it into the final blueprints, I know what would have been scrapped to save time and money. You know?"

"I absolutely do not know," Taybus laughs, "but keep talking and pretend I do."

"Okay. Everything from the layout of this room to the connecting bridges and the design of our cells was once a blueprint. The first draft was rough and bulky and contained a lot of extras. Probably amenities that would have made our lives a little better," he frowns at that last part, "but no one was going to approve it. They don't care about us and they want cheap, so every draft afterwards was more streamlined. They kept cutting and cutting until it was as basic and functional as you can make it without losing value."

"So they…cut more floors?" Taybus's face is scrunched in a nearly comical attempt at concentration.

"Don't hurt yourself, dude," you mutter. Alis chokes on a laugh next to you and coughs politely to cover it up.

Threl sighs through his nose and shakes his head in disappointment at you before turning his attention back to Taybus. "You're half right. Bare tunqstoid steel panels on the floor, easy to install. Reliable. You know exactly how much electricity they conduct and that they'll do exactly as intended. They're necessary to keep us in line. It's also expensive to cover every inch of this place. Not to mention the extra weight of the panels and structural support needed to compensate for it…that drives the bill up, too." Threl pauses so everyone can take a step back.

"Clear," Jevid grumbles. The center console comes to life as the next piece lifts to slot into place. You all move in unison, like a well rehearsed dance, to lift it so it can be rotated.

"Do you see bare panels up the walls? Or anywhere in the cells other than the floor?" Threl glances around the group, waiting for an answer.

"No," Sorrek responds quietly from across the table. There's a pensive look on his face and you can tell he's curious about where this explanation is going.

"That means, if they were there, they would be under the molded plastic where we can't see them."

"And they don't work under plastic?" Taybus hesitates before getting back to work.

"Correct!" Threl smiles widely at him. There's a hint of pride on his face as he glances over. "When you put plastic over metal, it's usually as an insulator. Because plastic doesn't conduct electricity…unless you mix the plastic with something that does conduct electricity during the molding process. Then the electric current travels along those particles instead. But doing that makes the parts more expensive. The current that can pass through the plastic also isn't as strong as the bare metal. That makes it unreliable. So you tell me what's more likely. That the Empire paid to have the walls and benches in every inch of this place lined with tunqstoid steel and a composite plastic of conductive filler or that they saved money by cutting those plans for the final blueprint and just wanted us to think they put them there?"

"They're definitely cheap. Hence," you add, "no panels or sensors in the benches."

Jevid and Sorrek exchange a look of shock. You wonder how many years both of them have been living with the acceptance of the lie. You also wonder what else about this place has been blindly accepted as truth.

As you glance around, you can't help but notice that the walls don't seem quite so oppressive anymore. Especially now that you understand on a much deeper level that that's all they are.

"Damn, Threl." Alis lets out a long whistle.

"See? Told you. Fucking brilliant." You give Threl a stare that says 'I told you so,' which he pointedly ignores.

"Wow dude. You're really smart." Taybus gapes at him.

"Yeah," Threl laughs as his posture finally relaxes back into the man you're more familiar with. "I know my way around this shit. I did it for over a decade."

"Wasted in here on this bullshit," you grumble.

"Don't disagree." He shrugs. "Unfortunately, when you start sabotaging the Empire's plans and they catch you, they don't just slap you on the wrist and let you keep your job. I'm lucky I didn't end up someplace worse than this."

"Well, I appreciate it a lot," Taybus says with a sincerity that makes him look almost sweet. Almost. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, kid." Threl puts a hand on his shoulder and gives him a gentle shake. "Just enjoy it."

"You get laid?" You smirk at him.

"No." His cheeks redden, but it doesn't hinder the look of excitement that spreads across his face. "We finally made out, though!"

"Hell yeah, man!" Alis stands on his tiptoes as he reaches over the table to give Taybus a high-five.

"Congratulations!" You beam at him. "Nice, isn't it?"

"Yes." He ducks his head as he blushes some more, and a strand of hair comes loose from his ponytail to hang in his face. He tucks it behind his ear and breaks out into a goofy smile. "It's really nice. I get why you were so annoying now."

"Hey!" You protest, only mildly offended. It's not like you disagree.

"Were?" Alis pipes up next to you.

Scratch that. Now you're properly offended. "Oh, is this what we're doing now that we got the excitement about the floors out of the way?" You yank the soldering gun off of the table. "Picking on me?"

"You make it really easy, to be fair," Threl teases.

You let out a noise of disgust. "Fine. Go ahead. You can't hurt my feelings because I know Kino will just kiss them better later."

"Gross," Taybus mumbles. You smirk at him.

"Yeah, that's right." You lean in his direction and lower your voice. "Keep teasing and I'll talk about how good he is at it, too."

"I'm pretty sure most of us have heard already." Alis gives you a knowing look. Next to him, Sorrek shakes his head in disapproval—though whether it's directed at you or Alis, you're not sure—while Taybus and Threl snicker at your expense. "Besides, you think that will deter me? You're going to have to try harder than that."

"God, you're obnoxious. Why are we friends again?"

"I grow on people." He grins.

"Like a fungus, maybe," you mutter.

"Fungus is very useful, so thank you for the compliment." His grin widens to an intolerable degree.

You roll your eyes as you work the soldering gun on the joint. While you do, you're surprised to find that, despite how much you brushed it off, being teased about last night bothers you. Not on your own behalf, though.

On Kino's.

When you finish, you straighten back up and clear your throat.

"Listen, since Alis brought it up, I know all of you heard me last night and I want to apologize for it. Clearly we got complacent and weren't being as respectful as we should have been. I'm really sorry. It'll never happen again." You can feel your face burning with embarrassment as your expression turns sheepish. "I'm absolutely mortified. So you guys are welcome to tease me about it if you want. I deserve it, honestly. Just…do me one favor and please make sure he isn't nearby to accidentally overhear when you do. Alright?"

Jevid grunts, which you assume is an agreement, and Sorrek nods, also looking a little embarrassed at the memory. You can't imagine what shade of red he turned after it happened. You also can't imagine either of them—or Edii—doing the teasing. They aren't the ones you're worried about.

"No problem, kid." Threl says easily. And it's no surprise he would agree to something for Kino's benefit. Or yours, for that matter.

Next to him, Taybus makes a face. "Why? He overhears us teasing you all the time."

"Because," you shift your attention to the part as you get back to work, "this will actually upset him."

"What's the big deal? Is he embarrassed because people know you're having sex in your free time now?"

"It's a big deal because it's him." You say it as though that should be obvious.

"He's still gotta be the shift manager after this." Threl tries to explain when Taybus continues to look unconvinced.

"Do the managers take a vow of celibacy or what?" He scoffs.

"No, but there's an inherent power imbalance between him and her." There's the cranking of a wrench as Threl works through the conversation. "That's enough to get people focused on them more than, say, you and your boyfriend. No offense."

"Plus," you interject when you see Taybus opening his mouth to protest, "if people are gossiping about us, he'll think of it as a distraction. Distracted people work slower, get lower numbers, and make mistakes. Mistakes lead to injuries or worse. They draw attention. He'd rather they didn't think about us at all. We're all safer that way."

"And he's right," Jevid adds in his gruff voice. "The last thing you want in here is them keeping tabs." He jerks a crooked thumb up towards the viewing window for emphasis. "That's why Kino runs the floor the way he does. Good numbers mean they leave you alone."

"Besides, you all remember what Wem pulled. Not everyone is gonna politely gossip or chuckle about it. Some of them are definitely pissed." You shoot a dark glance over at Wem's table.

"Why would they be pissed?" Taybus follows your line of sight, but with less subtlety.

"Jealousy, do you remember?" Edii finally speaks up. "There are some who did not look happy for her last night."

"Let me guess," you sigh. "Table 4 again?"

He nods. "Most. I see others, too. A few."

"Jealous of what? Of Kino?" Then after another second of thought, Taybus nervously adds, "Of her??"

You choose to ignore his last comment. Because they should be jealous. Kino is a fucking catch.

"They think he plays favorites. That because of her, he favors our table best." Edii stares at Taybus with a hint of his old irritation, clearly bothered he has to spell it out. "They are also mad they do so poorly in their numbers, so they blame us because that is easier than accepting they work bad together."

"Okay, so they bitch about it. So what? I seriously don't understand what the big deal is." Taybus still looks confused and you know it's because, for him, it is that simple. He's still young. The world hasn't taken on as many shades of grey yet.

You toss your soldering gun down heavily on the table to get his full attention. When his head jerks in your direction, you give him a serious look—though you do your best to keep your tone patient despite the frustration.

"I'm gonna forgive the ignorance here, Taybus. I know you don't mean anything by it. It's easy to forget some things when we're over here bullshitting half the shift. But take a look around you and remember one really important detail. Something I have to keep in the back of my mind every moment of every day." Taybus glances around the floor while you continue talking. "I am one woman trapped in here with a bunch of men."

The rest of the table freezes. You watch them exchange uneasy looks out of the corner of your eye while Taybus processes what you mean.

"Now, I feel completely safe around you guys, and I'm lucky we're usually stuck together. I think some of the other guys out there seem like decent men, too. The shitty thing about being a woman or someone vulnerable is that thinking someone is decent doesn't always keep you safe. What if someday some asshole decides bitching isn't enough? What if they think that I, or Kino, need to be taught a lesson? Or they want to take out some frustration in a more active way, so they sneak back while I'm taking a shift break?" You let the implication hang in the air. Taybus's eyes finally go wide in realization and horror.

"Then one of us takes our break with you!" He protests.

"You know we can't, kid. It's one at a time from the tables so we don't get behind." Threl gives you a regretful look. Your face softens in appreciation. You know he's right, but you also know that he would do it in a heartbeat if he could.

"That's bullshit! Surely Kino would make an exception for her." Taybus jabs a thumb in your direction.

"Then he's seen as playing favorites for sure and that pisses them off further." You put a hand on your hip as you step back from the table. "Clear."

"If they touch you, I'll deal with them." Sorrek stares at you with that cold rage you've seen a few times now. The kind that sends an uneasy shiver up your neck. You know it isn't directed at you. That's not why. You worry for him and how he would feel afterwards if he did something he couldn't take back. Or if he got stuck in here longer, away from his wife. From his daughter.

"I know you would." You give him an affectionate, sad smile. "But that would just prevent it from happening a second time."

Sorrek's face falls, the dangerous threat immediately shifting into helplessness. Jevid shoos him away from the machine before he can protest. Or start tearing up.

"It's not just that. What if a group of them decides they don't have to listen or be respectful out of spite? Maybe they even do it on purpose to make it look like Kino can't control his men and isn't fit to lead because they want the guards to replace him as shift manager. Imagine having an asshole like Wem as a manager. Sure, Kino's a hardass, but he's fair and he's a good man. But someone cruel with the perks and the power of that position?" Not to mention the ability to keep the two of you apart out of spite, you think to yourself.

"Wait, they could really do that? Put someone else in charge of the floor?" Taybus is starting to look even more worried.

You turn to look at Sorrek, Jevid, and Threl with an eyebrow raised. "You guys have been here the longest. Could they?"

"They choose whenever a floor needs a new one. I guess it's possible." Sorrek answers carefully.

"They could." Jevid gives you a confident, hard stare. "Not only could they, it wouldn't be good for him either. Never seen it done, but they'd probably add more shifts to his sentence and he'd be back at a table."

Taybus stares at him in shock, as if he's waiting for Jevid to suddenly take it back. When he doesn't, he stares dejectedly down at the table. "Damn. That's all fucked."

"It's all fucked indeed," you sigh.

"Okay. What should we do, then?" Taybus glances around at the rest of you for answers. "We keep an eye on her, obviously. Especially during breaks. Then we also…keep an eye out to help Kino so our lives aren't even more miserable?" Taybus's face scrunches in disgust. "God, never thought I'd say that."

Edii waves a dismissive hand at him. "I will keep an eye out on ones that look…what is the word? Suspicion?"

"Suspicious," Taybus mutters to him.

Edii continues on like he didn't hear him. "If they say or do anything, I will know."

You smile fondly at him. "Thank you, Edii."

"I was going to do so anyway. I keep a look out a lot of the time I have been in here already. Many people ignore me. I hear a lot." He turns to stare directly at you. "Incredible hearing." And then he nods seriously.

"You're damn right," you chuckle. "Sorry I ever thought it was a curse."

"It is alright. Makes people uncomfortable when they realize what I hear." He gives you a piercing, knowing look. You shift awkwardly in your spot as you remember that morning and all the filthy things you and Kino did and said to each other. You're confident no one else heard. You're now far less confident Edii didn't.

"Hey, wait!" Taybus perks up like he just remembered something. "I know Vage's table would be on our side. Table 1 is pretty cool."

"Oh, we drawing battle lines now?" Threl teases him.

"No!" Taybus protests. "Just, you know, in case."

Alis gives him an exaggerated wink and a nod of encouragement. Taybus gives him, what he thinks, is a subtle thumbs up in return.

"No, none of that," you gently scold both of them. "Look. I'm not saying any of that is going to happen, it's all just worst case scenario. I'm not saying someone will definitely try to corner me or harass me or hurt me. Or that suddenly me getting laid will turn into a riot. In fact, I'm not actually worried about any of it. All I'm saying is…" Your face softens with affection as you turn to look where Kino is standing on the other side of the room, bent over his tablet. He's frowning intently at something, and the way his forehead wrinkles and his lips pout in disapproval makes your heart flutter. "He is. There's a lot that could go wrong every single day and he's stressed about it. All the time. Because he thinks everything is his responsibility. I just don't want to remind him of what happened and add to that." You turn back to them with a pleading look. "Okay?"

"You love him very much." Edii gives you a rare, half smile.

Your cheeks burn hot and you look down at the table, embarrassed, because now the entire pod knows and is staring at you with various degrees of amusement and softness. It's almost too much attention, and it feels worse than when they all learned you were having sex. Because this is exposing your heart and laying bare your vulnerability, while sex is just sex. 'Which was also because of Edii,' you internally grumble. Okay, maybe his hearing is a bit of a curse.

"I do," you respond quietly.

Edii nods, as if he already knew the answer and you were simply confirming it for him. Then he returns to work, just like that. You do still admire his ability to readily accept something and move forward. However, you're less enthused about him bluntly supplying the table with updates about your love life. You wonder if that's just an Edii thing, or if it's a natural, open topic where he comes from.

"Fine, alright," Taybus relents with a huff. "I'll keep my mouth shut."

"I was never going to let him hear anyway, are you crazy? The man could probably toss me halfway across the room if he wanted." Alis shudders. "And if he heard me making fun of you, he would definitely want to."

"Oh, yeah, he would definitely want to." You grin wickedly at him. "And I promise, from experience, he probably could."

Taybus groans again.

The rest of your shift continues on with more teasing until they finally get bored with it. Partially because you threaten to supply them with more intimate details since they're clearly so interested in your love life. Alis is, of course, the last one to relent, but only after Sorrek has turned a concerning shade of red and looks dangerously close to tears.

Then they start badgering Taybus to tell them the plot to another one of Vage's holonovels. Not because Taybus is a particularly good storyteller—he'll frequently forget a detail and have to backtrack to fill in the blanks, making everyone else groan in frustration—but because it's something to pass the time.

And the easy camaraderie really does make the time go by faster rather than focusing solely on the work. As you talk and listen, your hands move automatically over the parts, expertly repeating the pattern almost as an afterthought. It would be easy to lose yourself in the rhythm.

You don't, though. You can't help but be aware of every passing hour. Nine.

You laugh at one of Alis's terrible jokes so hard your stomach hurts. Kino has to walk by the table to scold all of you and tell you to stop messing around and pick up the pace. You glance up at the clock. Eight.

Sorrek tells a story about one of his fights in a house so packed, the crowd ignored their seats to push and shove against the ring to get a better view of the main event. He was convinced the ropes were going to buckle under the pressure and that the match would be called when the crowd swarmed the ring. Jevid's heard this one before. Seven.

Threl once altered ship blueprints to include hallways that went nowhere and closed ventilation systems that cycled back into themselves rather than properly vent through the filters, which would cause a steady buildup of carbon monoxide. They caught the first one before construction began. They didn't catch the second one until afterwards, and whole sections had to be scrapped and rebuilt. "That's the trick," he says. "You distract them with one hand so the other can do more damage." You notice a look on Edii's face—a thoughtful concentration—and you wonder what he's thinking. Six.

One more down. Five now, and soon that will pass, too. You smile around your table.

One less hour until the end of your shift. One less hour in your sentence.

One less hour separating you from Kino.

A/N: As a reminder, the next chapter is coming out a week from today! And as a heads up: There are only 3 chapters left before the fic is over, so 27 chapters total. (I know 😭)

Also I have the most rudimentary understanding of how electricity works, so please do not @ me if I'm wrong because I simply don't care that much. What I do know is the floors in Narkina 5 shouldn't work at all, but they do because space magic. So anything I got wrong is clearly just more space magic 😂 I just wanted to take the opportunity to give more of Threl's backstory and show off how cool he is. He's from Naboo and he worked for Theed Engineering (for the other Star Wars nerds: they built Governor Tarkin's personal starship.)

NEXT CHAPTER->

#kino loy #kino loy x reader #kino loy x f!reader #x reader #i want you to show me weak fic #andor fanfiction #andor #fanfiction #andy serkis

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specialagentlokitty · 2 years ago

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Mr Evershed x Daughter!reader - who you are to me

Hiya 👋 I love your Evershed imagines especially your Daughter Reader ones. Could you do one where Reader doesn't know that Evershed is her father, but her alcoholic mother drunkenly confessed to Reader that Evershed is not only the Reader's father, but that she intentionally didn't tell him so to stop him from taking Reader away from her - Anon💜

TW: alcoholic parent and toxic home situation

Walking down the stairs, you pulled your blazer on and walked into the living room, scrunching up your nose as the stench of alcohol hit you.

“Mum have you got some money for lunch?” You asked.

“Spent it last night…” she mumbled.

You sighed and looked at her, turning to her boyfriend.

“Could I borrow some money for lunch?” You asked.

“No, just grab something from the fridge.” He snapped.

You sighed, walking to the kitchen you looked in the empty fridge and closed it again.

Walking back into the living room, you moved the beer bottles and whisky glasses and picked up your homework and tie.

“Guys you drenched my stuff.”

“Don’t leave it laying around then.” Your mum shrugged.

Sighing again, you walked to the kitchen once more, tossing your homework out, you shoved your tie into the washing machine and made your way to the door, picking up your keys you left.

You didn’t bother with your bag, you didn’t have anything in it so what was the point of bringing it in? All you needed was your phone and keys.

Walking to school, you decided to drag it out, knowing full well you were going to be sent to isolation anyways for no homework and no tie.

As you walked up the street towards the school, you heard the bell go and you stood at the gate looking at the teacher who was about to close it.

“Take the scenic route to school?” She asked.

“Sorry Mrs Carp… im going to isolation.”

“Well if everyone was as easy to deal with as you life would be easier.”

You walked through the gate and into the school, making your way to the room you looked around at all the empty chairs, choosing the one furthest away.

Sitting down, you rested your head on the table, deciding to get some sleep since you didn’t sleep well last night.

What woke you up was someone calling your name and you sat up a little.

“(Y/N), are you alright?”

You sat up, rubbing your eyes a little as you turned to the headteacher.

“Sorry sir.”

“It’s alright, is everything okay?”

“Yes sir.”

“Why’re you in here? Class only started an hour ago.”

You shrugged a little.

“No tie, no homework and was late, thought I’d save some time.”

“So you sent yourself to isolation?” He asked confused.

“Yes sir, I was going to be sent anyways.”

He sighed, dragging a seat over to you.

“Well, let’s start with where’s your tie?”

“Washing machine.”

“Okay, homework?”

“Lost it.”

“And why were you late?”

“Wake up late.”

You lied with ease, you didn’t even have to think twice about it.

You were accustomed to lying to teachers at this point, anything to stop them from talking to your mum or her boyfriend.

You didn’t want the school to find out about them, because even though you hated it there, you didn’t want to be taken away from your home.

“Well, there’s nothing we can do about your tie or you being late, but we can do that homework you lost, how about that?” He smiled.

You nodded your head and he went to get the missing homework.

While you were waiting, you heard your phone ringing so you looked at the caller ID and chose to ignore it.

You thought maybe it would work, but it didn’t.

Because your mum texted you.

Mum: need you to come home.

You: I’m at school.

Mum: I’m coming to pick you up. Be at gate.

Sighing, you put your phone in your pocket and got up, making your way to the front of the school only to be stopped by Mr Evershed.

“And where are you going?” He asked.

“Home.”

“(Y/N) I can’t let you do that, you need to be in school, it’s important.”

“Why? Not like I’ll learn anything anyways, so it’s pointless. I’m just going to work some dead end job.”

“It’s important so you can get an education and good grades, so you can do a job you want to do.”

You scoffed a little, rolling your eyes.

“Can’t forcefully stop me.”

“I can call your parents.”

“Go ahead, mum gave me permission.”

You pushed past him, making your way over to the gate and looked at your mum on the other side who was waiting impatiently.

Mr Evershed was walking after you, calling your name and you ignored him, climbing over the fence, you dropped down on the other side.

“What’s so important mum?”

“Need you to clean the house, me and Luke are going to the bar and got a house inspection today.”

“Mum why didn’t you tell me before now?”

“Forget, just do it. Not like this shithole is teaching you anything anyways.”

Mr Evershed opened the gate and looked at you then to your mum.

“You must be (Y/N)s mum?” He asked.

Your mother turned to him, and he face scrunched up in a glare.

“Stay the hell away from my daughter.” She hissed.

“Excuse me? I’m sorry I just want to talk about (Y/N)s education.”

Your mum stormed up to him, pushing him backwards.

“You’ll ruin everything!”

“You need to calm down!” Mr Evershed snapped.

Sighing, you walked between them, pushing your mum away from the teacher.

“Mum! Mum leave it yeah? Just leave it!”

“You need to get back into school.” Mr Evershed said.

You looked at him then looked to your mum, shaking your head.

“Forget it, my mum needs me help.”

You walked over to your mum and pushed her back again.

“Just drop it mum, let’s go.”

She grabbed your arm and dragged you away, and you stumbled a few steps, struggling to keep up with her quick pace.

“Mum! Mum slow down!”

“He’s going to follow us!”

“He won’t! Even if he does he knows where we live remember? On the school file.”

“I’m pulling you out of that school, not like you need it anyway.”

“Mum! You can’t! I like school!”

She said nothing and just dragged you home.

Luke looked at you and carried on putting his shoes on, setting his empty beer bottle by the stairs.

“You’re not going back to the damned school and that’s final!” She yelled.

“Mum!”

“Enough of it!”

She barged past you to the kitchen before making her way back over and turned to look at you.

“Make sure we pass this inspection.”

You just nodded and watched them leave before you started to clean.

The house phone and your phone rang a few times but you ignored them both, taking all the alcohol bottles out, you put them in the glass bin, and hid the glass bin in the shed.

Then you focused on cleaning or covering all of the stains that covered the house, fishing clothes and rubbish.

The inspection came and you showed them around and they said you passed and then left.

Then you sat there watching TV, waiting for your mum and her boyfriend to come home at whatever time that was.

You checked the house phones voicemail, and your own voicemail before ignoring them both.

You were expecting it to be late, but it wasn’t, your mum came stumbling home around dinner time, and threw herself in the sofa next to you.

“Mum?” You asked quietly.

“What?”

You sighed.

“Mr Evershed called, as did the receptionist.”

“What for, you’re leaving school as of tomorrow.”

“Why? If I get good grades I can get a good job… I.. I can help pay the bills and stuff.”

“You can get a job with Luke’s kid.”

“I don’t want to keep stealing cars mum.”

She turned over and sat up, looking at you and she sighed, walking over as she sat next to you, her eyes boring into yours.

“God you have your fathers eyes…” she whispered.

You blinked in shock at the comment.

“What?”

“You have his eyes… and you look at me like he did too…”

You frowned, furrowing your brows.

You could smell the alcohol radiating off her, the stench of it on her breath hurt your nose.

“He looked at me with such hatred… disgust.. like you do… it’s why I can’t let him near you.. he’ll.. he’ll take my little girl away…”

“Mum I don’t know anyone else but you, Luke, his son and the teachers at the school.”

“That’s why you can’t go back! He’ll figure out who you are!”

“Who mum? What are you so worried about?”

You were beyond confused.

“That Mr Evershed!” She yelled, “he’s your dad! It’s why you can’t go back!”

“Mum Mr Evershed is just my head teacher. Jesus how much did you drink?”

“He’s your dad! He.. he’s doesn’t know though… I didn’t tell him.. he would’ve taken you away…”

She sniffled and looked at you.

“He doesn’t deserve you…”

“You told me my dad died?”

Your mum shrugged and you stood up.

“You’re unbelievable mum! First you lied to me about my dad dying! Now you’re refusing to let me go back to school because you have some delusion about the head teacher being my dad what is wrong with you! At least if he was my dad I would’ve had a better childhood!” You yelled.

Grabbing your phone, you ran up to your room and started stuffing everything in your bag.

You had enough. This was your breaking point and you couldn’t do it anymore, you didn’t care if you were sleeping on the streets, you just couldn’t live here anymore.

So you grabbed what you needed and made your way back downstairs, pulling your shoes on while your mum cried and begged you not to leave.

“You’re a drunk! You’re a bad person and an even worse mother!”

“You’re never going to be better than me! You’ll end up like this one day you brat! Don’t bother coming back!”

She threw her bottle and the glass bounced off the door, shattering in impact and some of it bounced back, a small piece cutting your cheek.

It didn’t stop you, you carried on walking.

You stormed out, slamming the door behind you as you started to run, lungs burning, tears streaming down your face.

You didn’t know where you were going, so you stopped at the nearest park and sat down, breathing heavily.

Leaning your head back, you looked up at the dark sky and sighed, trying to process everything that had gone on.

You didn’t know what to do anymore.

You had nothing. Literally nothing, you were alone, and scared, and no where to stay.

Getting up, you carried on walking, trying to ignore the rumble in your stomach, the laughter from children playing on the street while their parents called them back for dinner.

You wondered what that was like, a good childhood.

You carried on walking, you didn’t have any friends you could go to, since you could remember you had been looking after your mum, so you didn’t have time to talk to other kids.

“(Y/N)?”

You stopped at the mention of your name, and you looked to the teacher who was walking down the street.

“It’s getting late, shouldn’t you be at home? I can take you if you don’t feel safe walking.”

“I’m fine Mr Evershed.”

You went to walk past him but he stopped you.

“Hey, what’s going on? Talk to me.” He said softly.

“Leave it!” You snapped.

You pushed him back and he stumbled a few steps and you looked at him in sadness.

“I… I’m so sorry…”

You broke down, tears streaming down your face as you tried to frantically wipe them away.

“Woah, hey, it’s okay, it’s alright. I’m alright, don’t cry.” He panicked.

He set his shopping bag down and took your arm, leaving you to the side of the path and he let go.

“What’s happened?” He asked.

You shook your head, taking a deep breath.

“Nothing, I have to go.”

With that, you rushed away leaving him stood there worried and confused while you tried to find somewhere to stay for the night.

You had a lot to process, and you didn’t know what to do.

You stayed in a church, and you woke up to someone shaking you.

“Hey there kiddo, how’d you get in here?”

You looked at the officer, and backed away a few steps in fear, blazer dropping to the floor, and she held up her hands.

“Hey, it’s alright. I was called to come check on you, your school reported you missing this morning.”

You looked at her.

“Are you going to arrest me…?” You asked softly.

“No, no of course not. The church offers sanctuary, but I need you to come with me, is that okay?”

You nodded and gathered your things, following her to her car and she drove you to the school.

You were escorted in and you had to wait in the office while Mr Evershed talked to her and he finally came into the room and sat on his desk.

“You had us all worried. Why didn’t you go home?”

“Got no home to go to…”

He frowned and you sighed.

“(Y/N), I need you to tell me what’s going on.”

You looked at him, and you realised you didn’t have a choice. Because what choice did you have? You had nothing to loose anymore, you’d already lost everything so you couldn’t loose anything else.

“Been kicked out sir…”

“Right, well, I’ve already called your mum, she’s coming in for a meeting and we have a social worker coming in too.”

You just nodded, defeated because you were tired of it all and wanted something to change.

You looked at Mr Evershed, and you wondered if what your mum said was true, was he really your father?

#Ackley bridge #Ackley bridge x reader #Ackley bridge x you #Ackley bridge imagine #mr Evershed #mr Evershed x reader #mr Evershed x you #mr Evershed imagine

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go-to-the-mirror · 2 years ago

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god i hate when the moral nuance podcast has moral nuance, smh

Anyway! Happy magiversary, first of all, I'm drawing some stuff for it :3, and secondly welcome to my ramble for episode 155. There were some words that were good, and some that was rambles. Enjoy.

@a-mag-a-day

BASIRA Hmm. London’s what, 600 square miles? ARCHIVIST 607. BASIRA (Sighs) Whatever.

I like to think that he just knew that without the Ceaseless Watcher. Know it all prick <3.

ARCHIVIST So I guess we’ll want to look out for a pair of homeless serial killers now. I’ll add it to the list.

I love him your honour <3. Like at a certain point you're going to start not taking All Of The Attempted Murders so seriously, and Jon Jarchivist Sims has hit that point about seven times already. He is going through it.

BASIRA I’m trying to convince her to go after them. To, uh… Hunt them. ARCHIVIST Why? BASIRA Because I’m not going to lose her. ARCHIVIST She goes hunting again, you might anyway. BASIRA And if she doesn’t, she might die. ARCHIVIST Something you’re fine with in certain other cases, and something she’s made peace with.

THANK YOU, JON. Bloody hypocrite. Murder's fine, but nightmares? Oh, that's not allowed. And yeah, Jon fucked up, and he hurt a lot of people, but Christ, so did Daisy, and they had the same bloody agency in it. Daisy killed people - people who didn't deserve to die, she's culpable in that, and Basira's not admitting it because it makes her culpable for enabling Daisy. Which she is, she knew Daisy killed people, only saved Jon because he was her friend, said that she should have let Daisy kill people.

ARCHIVIST (Sigh) Statement of Tova McHugh regarding their string of near-death experiences. Original statement given December 3rd, 2002. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, the Archivist.

(deadpan) Diversity win. The person who killed a bunch of people to extend their life canonically uses they/them pronouns.

And that’s not money from some trust fund. I mean sure my parents loaned me the money to start, but I built my business up from the ground, and we now provide jobs for almost 700 people.

(stares directly into the camera)

I'm not even going to comment on that. "not money from some trust fund" "my parents loaned me the money to start"

Ok, Tova, ok.

Sorry, I’m just… aware of how this story makes me look and I don’t want you to think I’m some selfish monster grinding people up just to extend my own ghoulish life. I’m trying to do good.

I can see the parallels and I do not like it.

If we shove my feelings towards Jon to the side for one moment, I can see the similarities between him and Tova, and how he would see himself in Tova. No matter how I try to spin it, Jon has been hurting people. He's been forcing innocent people - and even if they weren't innocent, it's still fucked - to relieve the worst moments of their life, not only once, but every night, with a new and spooky observer. That's horrifying, that's horrible.

Sure, it's not killing people, and he recognised that what he was doing was wrong, so it's not really on the same level as Tova, I feel, but still, I can understand why he'd see himself in Tova, and I can understand what I think we're meant to see in this.

It's one thing to hear a statement from a victim - an important part in realising that Jon has fucked up, but it's quite another to hear one from someone like him, justifying their awful actions under the guise of doing good. Maybe they (sing.) are doing good, maybe he is, but that does not erase all the people they've (pl.) hurt to get there.

I had to live, I couldn’t die, not then. We were on the verge of closing a deal that would provide fresh water to impoverished communities in a dozen developing countries. Without me, it would fall through.

Mate, killing is not the bloody answer. Sure, they might be doing good in the world, but they don't deserve to live more than anyone, they're killing people - actual living people. That's wrong. Sure, you're allowed to kill to protect your own life, but... it's wrong. They're not doing anything to hurt them, it's wrong. I just think it's wrong.

An old woman, frail and shivering, staring out of the ducks over the water, empty bread bag by her side. If only I could have explained it to her, I’m sure she would have understood. She might even have agreed. But I couldn’t talk to her, and I needed to live.

She needed to live. She deserved to live, everyone deserves to live, and it's wrong to make that choice for someone who you don't even know. It's understandable, what Tova did, but it's their responsibility to not value their life above everyone else's so much that they actually kill someone. That's wrong.

"I needed to live." The old woman was just a person and by saying your ("useful") life is better than someone else's ("useless") life is... bad. It's really bad. Like, uh, yeah content warning for

I thought I’d solved it. If anything else like that happened, I knew what I needed to do.

So, she was going to do it again. Good lord.

This time I sought out a homeless man. Young and strong, though his life was clearly over as he tried to destroy himself through drinking. I followed him into an alley, and his liver gave out, just at the moment the EpiPen was pushed into my leg.

Ah, that homeless initiative, huh. But, of course, their (sing.) life is worth more. /s

God, they (sing.) suck as a person, like what the hell. That's awful, that's horrible.

I do find myself hating them, quite a bit. Good lord.

I made a decision. One I am deeply ashamed of, but I honestly thought it was for the best. I couldn’t keep living like that in the shadow of death, of what I had to do to keep going. One sacrifice, I thought. Just one, from someone with their entire life ahead of them. I took a newborn.

I don't even know what to say. How the fuck are they able to lie to themself so much as to think that killing - what is it now - four people - is good? Is going to "help the world as a whole," god damn them. God damn them.

Like, how do you even do that? Egotistical piece of shit. Believing their life is of so much more value than the people they kill to keep on living.

It was a baby born to poverty, one whose life I thought would bring it pain, and I believed it would be the last I would ever need to do.

Oh, right, classism.

Also like, their language. "One whose life I thought would bring it pain," that's eugenics. That is literally eugenics.

Eventually I realized it had nothing to do with age or health. It was about connection. About joy. The more friends, family, loved ones the person has, the further out the terror of sudden death spreads from me. The longer it keeps me alive.

Fear soup, the fear of death is mixed in with a lot of other things. The Dark, the fear of that oblivion, absence of light, or warmth, of life. The Desolation, in this case, the fear of losing someone to the cruel hands of death or whatever. This is also a desolation statement. Nice hill to die on.

I’m 40 now, and I have taken the life of beloved mothers, respected professionals, pillars of the community. But I have done so much good with my life, I’ve reached further helped more people than they ever could have.

FUCK THEM. I don't even know what to say to that.

I’m not saying how I live is right, or good, but it is the position I have been put in, and a decision I have to make. I never wanted to weigh up the value of a life, to set it on the scales against my own, but that’s a choice that I am forced into. And it is one I will continue to make.

They suck as a person and I want to throw them with a rock.

What is the value of a life? Is it something that can be quantified, put down as numbers, good deeds, bad? And when your life your existence is at the cost of doing harm, what then? I’ve - (laughs) I’ve saved the world, the whole world. Does that give me the right to take what I need to survive?

Great question! I don't know. I don't have an answer? Maybe? No? It's not a definitive yes, I mean... No. No. That's not an option. He's gonna have to die, that's... the only good option, that's not a good option, that's the only option that isn't hurting people that could have been relatively uninvolved.

I don't think anyone should make that decision for you, but you have a responsibility as a person to not kill people for your own gain, that's important.

The needs of the many is greater than the needs of the few only can really work when you're not saving yourself under the guise of helping more people.

If I'm going to be consistent, I'm going to say that no. Jon should stick to old statements, and let himself die when he dies, because he doesn't deserve the trauma of other people. But... I like him a lot, okay.

This relisten is really making me pull away from being a Jon apologist, hate it for that. /hj

I find myself hating her, her callous self-deception. But am I so different? Daisy’s chosen to resist in her own way, knowing full well it might take her life in the end, Melanie too. I respect them for it, but I - I don’t know if I can follow their path. I suppose I have a way out now. One that wouldn’t even kill me, at least, I hope not. And yet here I am still. Am I a coward? I just… what if they need me? What if.

I DONT KNOW STOP PUTTING THESE COMPLEX SITUTIONS WIHT COMPLEX ANSWERS ON ME IM JUST A SILLY LITTLE GUY WHO'S STILL TRYING TO UNLEARN BLACK AND WHITE MORALITY

What would I do? Hell if I know! Probably the same as what Jon did, I'd hurt people, hate myself, hurt people, hate myself in a cycle, and I'm not sure at this moment if I'd do it, if I'd blind myself and possibly die, or not and live as something I hate? I mean, like, it's not even an impossible situation. Maybe he is a coward, maybe I'd be too. But... I don't know. I don't know, I don't know, I just don't know.

This is a situation where for most of the time the way out was dying. This is a situation where there is a way out that'll leave Jon vulnerable, both cause I don't think being newly blind is great for general survivability when things are literally out to get you and because he won't be an avatar anymore, he won't have those abilities that while he hates make him less helpless. Of fucking course he told Gerry he liked that he could compel people, it's some of the only control he's had in this whole situation. This is a situation where the two ways out are death, and maybe death, definitely helpless against the many many things that want him dead.

That's a difficult decision.

MELANIE Thanks for telling me, by the way. It didn’t look like it was easy for you.

WHAT IF I WANTED A JON AND MELANIE FRIENDSHIP? WHAT IF?

MELANIE You won’t need to. I’ve - I’ve made a few arrangements, and… (shaky breath) it’s going to be okay. Honestly. I think it is. I - I can’t be a part of this anymore and if this is the price, then I think I’m okay to pay it.

I'm so happy for her <3

MELANIE (Inhale) It’s - it’s the rest of you I’m worried about. ARCHIVIST We’ll be fine. Always have been. MELANIE (Scoffs lightly) Not always.

THEY COULD HAVE BEEN FRIEND, IN ANOTHER LIFE, IN ANOTHER WORLD, BUT IT'S NOT THAT LIFE AND IT'S NOT THAT WORLD, READ "MAYBE THIS IS IT" BY MMMMPH PLEASE

alexa play sense, sensibility by ajj

what if i wanted them to be ok, what if i wanted it to be okay, what then?

jonny why

ARCHIVIST We’ll miss you. MELANIE (Wryly) Wish I could say the same. ARCHIVIST (Quietly) Yeah.

MELANIE (Deep breath) No. I’ve got this. But if you, um… If you could… In five minutes, I would appreciate it if you could call me an ambulance.

LIKE ITS SO COOL LIKE OK LIKE SHE'S ACTUALLY DOING IT, SHE'S GETTING OUT. she's getting out.

I'm happy for her. I just wish she could get out forever, you know? Live all happy like with her girlfriend, not live through the apocolypse.

Well done Melanie, well done.

Well, um, yeah. That's it really. Shambles.

#the magnus archives #tma #tma meta #a mag a day #mag 155 #tova mchugh #jonathan sims #melanie king #black and white morality is easy ok. but tma has really helped me on the moral nuance side yk?#landscaping your mind chapter one

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originalfartgalaxy · 10 months ago

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What Does He Looked Like?

When Hassan turned 12, he received his first pair of shoes, it was a gift from his father; who’s apparently been saving up the money for years, anticipating no more unexpected situation on the horizon, his father was able to make the purchase . It’s been 4 years since then and that same shoes is so worn-out its unrecognizable; now, he longs for a new pair.

“Father, just a few more days and we can finally harvest, once that is done, I’d like to get myself a new pair of shoes.” Hassan said looking up to his father. “I’ve been wearing the same shoes for several years now and its already worn out, they laugh at me at school.” he complained, shifting his gaze to avoid his father’s eyes. He couldn’t contain the spark of embarrassment.

A warm smile crept onto his father's face as he asked, “Sure! What color do you want?”

Hassan’s face beamed with excitement. “I want black! It looks cool and suits me well.” he stood in front of his father and showed his shoes.

Mr khilaam looks down, seeing how damaged the shoes are, he felt ashamed.

“Black again?” looking straight at Hassan, “You have to try out other colors too.” his father commented.

“C’mon, you know that’s the only color allowed at school, besides, I like black.” Hassan insisted, shuffling the grass with his feet.

The father chuckled. “Alright alright, whatever you say. I’ll buy you one but you have to keep it a secret to your mother, we both know she prioritize needs before wants” he playfully said.

“Father, I ‘need’ a new shoes” Hassan replied firmly, shooting glares at his father. Amused by this sight, Mr. Khilaam raised his hand.

Laughing lightly, he pat his son’s head. “Don’t let other people break your spirit kid. A shoes can be changed but not a broken spirit. You’re my son, be tough. Fight back if necessary but as much as possible you have to keep the calmness of your mind, don’t make enemies, because like I said, a worn shoes can be changed and so are people’s opinion.”

Hassan’s brow met each other, pouting his mouth he looked away and mumbled. “I’m not making enemies, but I really need a new pair of shoes”

“Hahaha, I know I know. Once this is harvested, I will buy you a new pair.”

The pair of son and father looked at the vast acres of rice fields, fresh air embraces their body as they both showed smile of satisfaction. They both had worked hard maintaining a healthy condition of this plants, like his father’s frequent advice to him. A great effort will receive a great reward, and that just unfold right in front of his eyes. And he’s about to have a new pair of shoes, Hassan’s smile travel through his mouth to his eyes, seeing this unfold, Mr. Khilaam couldn’t contain his happiness; he raised his arms and put around Hassan’s neck, both looking at the rice field, the father and son giggled uncontrollably.

After several days, the harvesting season arrived. Hassan woke up earlier than usual, he excitedly folded his mosquito net and shove them at the usual spot. Hassan’s house is not as big as what the magazine shows, not as big as the television in town shows, just like everyone else, he lived in a humble abode, a small two story nipa house; with one room which he shares with his parents and a kitchen big enough for the comfort of the three of them.

“Where’s Father?” he asked his mother who was cooking on the side, carrying his tube wrap, he walked down the three-step wooden stairs.

“He left already; don’t mind him and start getting ready. By the way, you have to drop something for me at Babo Belay’s house on your way later.”

Hassan shrugged a little and started getting ready, he took the bucket and walked out of the house. After a brief five-minute walk, he reached the central weel of their Bario. There’s only three weels in their Bario, one for the community, one for their Kapitan and one for his family.

After arriving, Hassan wasn’t surprised to be welcomed by the sight of three men scrubbing each others’ back, and on top of that, he was quite familiar with them.

“You’re early” his cousin, Emran jokingly said. Hassan put down his bucket and started filling it.

“I feel good today, like something good is going to happen”, he smiled, flexing his white teeth. He shifted his gaze to Ali, one of the guys, and continued “By the way, any news from the job you mentioned before?”

“Now that you mentioned it, I’m pissed again” Ali replied, scrubbing Harim’s back forcefully.

“Ouch, Dude! Slow down, that hurts!” he cried.

Emran looked at them amusingly, turning his head to Hassan. “The Kapitan suddenly canceled the work, we don’t know why, he didn’t said anything.” he stated.

“And this foolish guy is in debt!” Harim added, scoffing at Ali.

“Argh, I was pretty confident that I’d be able to pay since he’s giving us work. Now I don’t even know where to get the money to pay all those debt”

Harim couldn’t believe his friend was this foolish—too confident to borrow five pack of cigarettes because, according to him, ‘I found a job, I’ll be able to pay’ only for things to end up like this. He wondered how he’d sweet-talk his way into the fuming face of Babo Maria if she learns he can’t pay. He chuckled a bit at the thought of it.

Hassan stopped what he was doing and looked at the guy who just arrived. Carrying his towel, the guy said, “Are you talking about the cancellation of the work the Kapitan was planning to give? Didn’t you hear what happened?”

The four guys turned to him. “What do you mean?” said Hassan.

“What? You didn’t hear? Tsk. Tsk. Apparently, his men ambushed the brother of Joharto, the Kapitan in the next Bario. He’s probably walking on eggshells right now since they won’t let this slide.” Jomar informed, the new guy.

Confusion painted on their faces. They looked at each other out of disbelief.

“What? I thought they’re in good terms, what happened?” - Harim spoke, preventing the weird feeling growing in his gut.

Emran rolled his eyes. “It’s probably because of the land the government is planning to provide to the farmers. Looks like they both want it for themselves.”

Among all of them there, Emran is the most observant. Ever since the government personnel visited their small Bario, there’s been a shift in the Kapitan’s action.

Contrary to his observant nature, however, Hassan is on the less observant side.

“Why kill for a piece of land?” Hassan asked, confusion clearly displayed on his face. The guys scoffed at him.

“You don’t understand because your family has a ‘piece of land’ idiot.” - Ali whined. “Why bother talking to this dumbo?” he continued.

Hassan’s family is known for having cultivated the same land for generations already. Its been passed down from generations to generations, making them one of the oldest families to have reside in that Bario.

“Seriously, I can’t believe we’re sharing the same well.” Jomar added. “For you information, ‘Hassan, The-Soon-To-Be-Land-Owner’”, these words of praise completely lacked sincerity. “not all of us have land in this Bario. Having a land is a big deal; that basically means you have a stable income.” he continued.

Hassan’s eyebrow twisted. Of course, he knows; he’s not completely oblivious to that fact. “I know that, what I don’t understand is, how can they stomach killing someone for a piece of land when they already have a lot?”

They went silent.

“Greed, what else? They want to be the richest man in this small place,” Emran explained, turning to him. He continued, “So you, Hassan, should stop hanging out with Ibrahim for the meantime. We don’t want to see you bloodied on the street.” he stated with much seriousness. The others seems to agree as they all looked at him and nodded.

No one said anything after that. Hassan took his toothbrush and start working on himself. He was in deep thought the entire time they were bathing. Until he reached home, he couldn’t stop thinking about Emran’s warning—not because he’s scared, of course. He just doesn’t understand why hanging out with Ibrahim could put him in danger. Why would those people harm someone who’s not involve? Beside, they weren’t old enough to be considered a threat. Why would they bother hurting a teenager? Don’t they have better things to do? He didn’t understand.

Hassan was about to leave the house when his mother called. “Datu!” she yelled. “Stop by Babo Belay’s house and give her this watermelon. I asked her to make an amulet for you and your father. We can at least repay her with this.”

Hassan extended his arm to get the fruit. “Mother, why would you ask for something like that?” he exclaimed, looking irritated.

“Oh, Silly boy, can’t you see how our Bario is so quite these days? Something is about to happen, and we have to be ready for it.” Slapping Hassan on the back, she stated. “Now go, go. Make sure you wear it when you get it, alright?”

The son pouted and started walking. He woke up feeling pretty good, and now it’s all ruined. Why do they have to say all these things today when clearly his father is out there harvesting crops? This should be a happy day since he’s getting new shoes.

As Hassan thought about his new shoes, a subtle shift in his mood became evident. Feeling so much happier, he starts running to reach Babo Belay’s house. He felt calm by the embrace of the wind, as if validating the happiness he’s feeling at the moment.

He reached the lady’s house short after, it was quite and still, as if she wasn’t around. Hassan was confused; its unusual because she never goes anywhere.

“Babo? Are you there?” he shouted, looking closely at the small space the bamboo walls couldn’t fill. Her small bamboo house was dark inside; he couldn’t quite see what was in there, but he was sure he once made eye contact with a goat head at the center of her house. It wasn’t until he heard a door opening that Hassan stopped squinting.

Babo Belay is standing there, looking at him sharply. He felt like she was looking straight into his soul. He gulped silently, handed the watermelon to her, and stated. “My mother wants you to have this. She said thank you.”

His forehead formed sweat. A chill swept through his entire body, leaving him slightly shivering. The old lady did not even blink nor reach for the fruit, instead she looked at him more intensely without saying a word.

A few more seconds passed before she moved, handing him a wooden necklace with an eye-looking pendant. “Wear this wherever you go, give the other one to your father too and don’t stay with someone with something red attached to them”

Hassan politely took the necklace and left, looking at it on his way. He couldn’t deny the shiver he felt; the pendant stared at him the same way the old lady did.

He doesn’t really believe in stuff like this; if its one’s time, its one’s time, and nothing can stop it. Letting out a sigh, he put it on quickly; he can’t have his mother nagging all night for not putting this on. Thinking of his new shoes, Hassan was once again dancing with the wind. Sixteen-year-olds tends to get over things easily.

He arrived at school not long after; everyone was assembled at the flag ceremony, including Ibrahim, who waved at him happily.

“Hurry up! You’ll be late!” Ibrahim yelled cheerfully. Hassan smiled and ran faster toward his friend.

He thought, ‘This is the kind of guy they wanted me to stay away from, ridiculous’

Ibrahim is known for being a cheerful kid; they’ve been friends for a long time. Hassan knows that Ibrahim knows nothing about whatever riot his father is starting. Like what his father always said, ‘The sin of the father cannot be a sin of the child’.

“Dude, Norjana’s coming! How do I look?” Hassan looked at his friend, his frantic expression showing how panicked he was. Looking up and down, he smirked and made a thumbs up.

There was nothing red attached to this guy.

The class ended like usual, nothing new and nothing different. “Didn’t you said your father will buy you a new shoes? What’s the color?” Ibrahim excitedly asked him, thinking of his new shoes; Hassan’s eyes twinkled again.

“I asked for black shoes, of course! I wonder what they look like, I can’t wait to go home” The friends giggled in unison. The resting sun embraces them as they walk outside the school gate.

Among the relationships he developed these past few years, the one with Ibrahim is the most genuine and meaningful one. His father always reminded him to seek for meaningful relationships and treasure them.He didn’t understand it at first; a child basically knows nothing about the world unless he experiences it himself. Over time, Hassan learned just how important it is, and his father was more than proud.

It was as hectic as always, every single student was excited to go home. Some were waiting outside the school for their parents to pick them up, while others couldn’t contain the adrenaline and ran on their way.

It was busy; everyone is running around, left, right, front, back.. There was students everywhere, and clearly, the clock was running fast.

Except for Hassan, he was looking somewhere far away. He didn’t know if it was the shiver he felt from Babo Belay’s stare, or the fact that he’s so happy; its strange. But he’s aware of one thing; Emran is running towards him, bawling his eyes out, screaming like a madman. He’d never seen him like this. It scared him, so scared. He couldn’t comprehend what Ibrahim was saying beside him, as if there was no one around but him and his cousin, panting so hard, struggling juts to reach Hassan.

‘Time should stop, I wish time would stop. Time has to stop. Please stop. Please. Please.’

“Home. Now.” Emran ordered, dragging his wrist as they ran like there’s no tomorrow. He doesn’t know what’s going on, nor does he want to know.He don’t wanna know. It scared him. Scared so bad. He wants his father. Father, right, he’s buying new shoes; he’ll be home with his new shoes.

Hassan couldn’t feel his feet anymore. They were running for a long time, yet, their house seems so far away. The rain poured and it feels like it’s punishing him. Every drop of it hurts, but for what? Why would the heavens punish him? He didn’t do anything wrong. Why would the heavens punish him when he did nothing wrong? It doesn’t make sense.

Why do people blame those who are not involve just to let the anger out inside their hearts? Is it so hard to admit that you’re the one in the wrong? What’s so hard about apologizing and talking? Whats too hard about asking for forgiveness and to forgive? His father had always said, “Keep the calmness of your mind; the world can be cruel ,but always choose kindness before anything.” so, why can’t we all just forgive?

On the other side of the Bario, in the middle of the day, while Hassan was in school. Mr. Khilaam asked for Samer’s assistance, he wanted to buy new shoes for his son.

“Bapa Khilaam, what shoes are we looking for? We’ve been going circles! We should really ask for the saleslady’s assistance now.” Samer complained, looking at how silly his uncle is right now. Checking every single shoe his eyes landed on too seriously.

“Shh, don’t bother them. I’m about to find it, just wait a little bit.” Mr. Khilaam replied, looking as intensely as before.

Samer knows how easily his uncle get shy in situations like this. He’d rather circle the place some more than ask for him. But what can he do? It is their job to provide assistance.

“C’mon you’ve been circling around for like 2 hours now; we really should ask for their help.” he retorded, glancing at the saleslady nearby and shyly gesturing at her. The woman, who seem to be observing them for a while now, smiled and walked toward them.

“Aish, Silly boy!” Mr. Khilaam shoot him with serious face, turned to the woman who came to help. “I-I’m sorry, I am looking for a cool shoe.”

The woman is confuse, “Cool shoe?” she thinks for a moment. “Please wait a second”

Samer chuckled lightly, looked at his uncle with disbelief, seeing how innocent he looks right now he can’t help but smile bitterly, every single shoes is cool.

Samer patted his Uncle’s arm; he should let it go. “See? Easy, you should thank me; I want a new pack of cigarettes.” he jokingly affirmed.

“Didn’t your mother asked you to stop smoking?” Mr. Khilaam glared at him. He was about to refute when the woman interrupted them carrying two boxes of Nike shoes.

“Thank you for waiting, this is what I think you’re looking for, a cool shoes” she chuckled lightly and handed them the box. Mr. Khilaam smiled at her and opened the first one, black Nike shoes with an eye-catching design; this is exactly what Hassan is looking for.

He looked at it for a few more seconds; deeply contemplating, he has something else in mind.

He opened the next one; inside was a red Nike shoes with an interesting design. Looking intensely at it, he smiled; this would fit his son perfectly, it may not be black but, he will surely love it. “I would like to buy this” He happily announced. Holding the box firmly as they walk towards the counter.

Samer rolled his eyes at how silly looking he was. If they had just asked for the saleslady’s help, they wouldn’t be going around and wasting so much time. “I’ll make a call for a sec, wait for me outside” he whispered, to which his uncle agreed.

Samer wasn’t oblivious to the eyes that had been watching them for a while. Ever since they set foot in this bario, the number of men around them was weird. It’s as if they were watching and waiting, but for what? He couldn’t remember someone he angered, nor does he know someone his uncle angered. The guy is known for being the kindest man in their bario; why would someone like him make enemies?

He was in deep thought when the shop’s door opened, indicating his uncle was no longer inside the store. He felt his body run cold, throat dry as he watched the door close, before he realized what just happened, before he could do anything.

A series of gun shot echoed throughout the street.

There were screams everywhere; everyone is on the ground, holding their heads as the gun shots continued for some time. It took a while before it stopped.They shot as if there’s no tomorrow, the level of anger from the hands who pulled those triggers was menacing, they were angry, dangerous and murderous. Shaking uncontrollably, Samer looked for him. The shop was ransacked, the shoes were all over the place, the woman whimpering nearby looking traumatized, next to her is a pair of black shoes. A series of shiver crawled down his spine; his beloved uncle was outside.

Pulling enough courage, he tried to stand. The gun shots stopped, and he heard motorcycles rushly running out. That means they got their target, right? But why is his uncle so quite? Shouldn’t he rush inside and see if he’s doing alright? That’s what uncles do.

His question was soon answered when he opened the door. Horrified by the sight, he fell on the ground, breathing harshly as his tears streamed down. Samer struggle to contained himself; blood was splattered everywhere, the door is painted with crimson red, a strong scent of blood rushed through his nostril. Right outside was the lifeless body of his uncle, face down, still gripping the handle of the paper bag, bathing on his own blood. He wasn’t even able to protect himself.

His uncle is dead.

Hassan’s heart pumped so hard, Samer sat there as if he lost all hope in humanity, crying uncontrollably right next to Hassan’s mother who, for some reason Hassan cannot comprehend, fainted.

There’s a lot of people inside their small home, crying, shouting, confused, angry, he can’t tell.

“W-What happened? W- why do you look like that?” he pulled all his energy to produce the question; he ran so fast can’t take another step anymore. Looking sharply at Samer, he tried to stand properly.

“U-Uncle is……” Samer choked; his crying intensified so hard he couldn’t breath. He tried to make out a word, but nothing is coming out; all he could do is to cry.

Hassan felt his body shiver, he felt thousand of needles peircing him from within. Looking at Samer strangely, his hands moved on their own, sharp pain ignited on his fist. “What about my father huh?! What about him?! say something!! Where’s my father?!” he shouted, anger and pain intensifying his voice.

Emran stopped him from behind: still crying, he hugged him so hard. “Please stop, my brother is sorry.”

“I- I am sorry, so sorry………………………………………… I-I have to get out of there, s-somehow…………” his voice broke again, his body shakes as his mother hugged him dearly, people started arriving left and right, looking as pained and horrified by the news.

“Please just tell me, where is he?! please….” Hassan pleaded, could no longer contain himself he collapsed on the ground. Emram held him tightly; the house was filled with cries and screams. Hassan’s body hurt so bad, every muscle is on fire, his heart was on fire, it feels like he’s dying. So hot, so empty, so cold, so angry. The last time he saw him was last night; he woke up early to greet him but he’s no longer there. When will he able to greet him a good morning again? He wants to, please. Please.

Tears streamed down Hassan's cheeks as he yearned for his father's embrace, the ache of missing him growing with every passing moment. He wanted him there; he wanted his father to hug him. He’s scared,so scared, every time he’s scared, his father is always there. Every time his confused, his father is always there. What to do now? Just where is he? He needs him. He needs him.

It took a while before Samer calmed down and start narrating what happened, from the shoes to the closed door, every single letter coming out from his mouth were like a sharp blade stabbing Hassan multiple times. He doesn’t understand; it doesn’t make sense. He was ambushed because he’s from the same bario as the Kapitan? His father is not an acquaintance nor a family; he was an innocent farmer who just happened to be there. He was not related; he was not involved, He's innocent. He was so innocent, truly blameless.

“W-what does he looked like?” Hassan was in pain than ever before, he tried to remember his fathers face, but for some reason, he couldn’t. The face of the man who raised him is no longer visible in his chaotic mind; he couldn’t think straight. He’s going crazy; he needed the image, he needed his father, he badly needed his father.

Once again, he received an apology from Samer and there continued a sentence he would never forget.

“Is that him?” Hassan impatiently asked, he held his gun tightly, pointing at the man not so far away from them. For five years, Hassan couldn't shake the memory of the ambush that took his father. The day haunted him, both waking and sleeping. All he could think about is this moment, when the table is turned, when he’s getting his revenge.

“That’s him, that’s him right there.” Emram starts the engine, “Are you sure about this? We can still go back and rethink everything.” this was his last attempt to talk Hassan out of his senses.

For the past five years he witnessed how his cousin changed, he witnessed how he turned into a madman, the innocence was gone and so the loving soul his father cultivated over the years. Observant as he was, he knows by all means, this day will come.

“Do you think I’m not sure?” rage clear on his voice “Emran, let me remind you, they put 19 bullet holes on my father’s body! 19! I will never let this go!!” he pushed Emran from behind, holding his gun tightly, he continued. “They showed him no mercy! No fucking Mercy!” Hassan chokes; “I will understand if he angered them, I will understand if he’d done something wrong, but Emran, my father is innocent. He is fucking innocent! He is innocent!”

Tears once again streamed down his cheeks, marking the pain etched on his face, eyes burning with rage he looked at his target, he once prayed for happiness and lifelong health, its funny how he came from a loving son into a lunatic who knows nothing but to curse the world and god. They made him like this, they will pay for turning him like this, every single one of them. He will curse every single one of them.

Emran couldn’t take it anymore, holding the handlebar he gulped. There’s no stopping Hassan, and he choose to help.

In a blink of an eye, a series of gunshot echoed in the street. He did it. He finally did it. He shoot them. There’s no coming back, this is his life now, his sole purpose.

He’s ready for their revenge, he knows its coming, it will surely come. What’s important right now, however, is that he got his own.

Hassan ambushed the brother of Kapitan Joharto, in a few days, Kapitan Joharto’s side ambushed an innocent Farmer, and there continued a cycle of never ending revenge on both sides; by the family members, by the ones who lost a loved one, until they no longer care who died. It doesn’t make sense to target the innocent, but when does murder made sense? Common sense doesn’t exist in the eyes of a monster.

“W-what does he looked like?” Hassan was in pain. Slowly forgetting the face of his father. He cannot bear the sense of disconnectedness with him.

Once again, Samer apologized, and continued with a sentence he would never forget.

“I’m sorry. If I see him, I won’t be able to sleep.”

#short story by me #original fiction #short stories #fiction #im posting this #please give me feedback

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inhayara · 11 months ago

Text

Ok. Let’s talk about elspeth McKinnon for a second here.

You dig up bodies and sell them even though your best friend (possibly lover?) hates it because you want them to have at least something good for dinner and sleep in a real bed for fucking once. Then this English dude comes out of nowhere and starts lecturing you on morals and damnation, but you’ve heard it all before and honestly HE isn’t sleeping in that urine-smelling grimy street corner so he can shove his morals up his sorry arse, and then you wheel over that fresh body to the surgeon (not a doctor, a mister, you remind yourself). You’re already having a bad day because now he’s offering WAY less than this body is bloody worth, but then he uncovers the barrel and the fucking body is a skeleton?? And you catch that flicker of smugness on the stupid Englishman’s face and you KNOW he had something to do with it, even though reasonably you can’t think of anything he could have done.

So you go back to the grave because you need a new body, this time with wee Morag, who you’re doing this entire bloody thing for, and she’s nervous and you really don’t want her there but she’s doing it for YOU goddamnit so of course you go with her and then! Then she activates the trap and the bullets and that’s it that’s it, she’s gone, and now you have nothing left. So you take her body and you sell it to the surgeon so she can have a fucking toast because you definitely don’t have the money for a grave, and you see the laudanum and think “yeah, that’s not such a bad way to go.” And you steal the laudanum and plan to toast Morag and die and if you do wind up in the same place (though you doubt it because you did sin and you would have sinned a thousand times for her, not that it saved her in the end) you’ll beg for her forgiveness because life has no fucking point to it anyways, and then the fucking Englishman shows up again?? With his Scottish tag along? And you really want to be done with it but then the Scottish tag along sees the laudanum and fUCKING DRINKS IT, OH GOD, and the Englishman just??? Doesn’t care??? And the Scottish one seems weird but still alive?? And also calls the English one angel, so there was something there you were right, but more importantly, the Scottish one just fucking d i s a p p e a r e d, w h a t, oh no wait he didn’t, oh no wait he’s. Small? Like pocket size? What. Is happening? And you’re mostly sure you’re hallucinating as the Scottish one makes some strange chicken noises and flaps his arms and then starts growing and growing and oh god-

And the Englishman just. Barely cares. And now the Scottish one is glaring at you from two stories up and yelling at you to not kill yourself, and you vaguely nod because it seems like a good idea when a giant Scottish maybe-man (?) is portending to you while the size of a church tower. And then he tells his Englishman to give you the contents of his wallet??? And it’s nINETY GUINEAS?! And all of a sudden you’re set for life as long as you “buy a farrrmmm and be good” as if you were planning on ever digging up bodies again with this much money, and the Englishman doesn’t even seem mad, so then you get out of there as fast as you can before the other shoe drops and the money disappears. And the next day you hope it was a really, really weird nightmare except now you do have ninety guineas. And no Morag.

#the elspeth mckinnon post I’ve been meaning to post for a long time #because fucking come on. she was just living in abject poverty with her probably lover #and then simultaneously had the worst day of her life and got way richer than she could have ever dreamed of #i mean crowley and aziraphale have made a lot of lives much weirder. but that’s gotta be the weirdest #and yes I’m including sister mary loquacious #she was fine in the end #yara speaks #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #elspeth mckinnon #the resurrectionists

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remyfire · 2 years ago

Note

"I'll raise."

"Getting too rich for my blood," BJ murmurs, tossing a couple of chips into the pot. "I'll call. Sweetheart?"

"Sorry, what does raise mean again?" She winces, teeth toying at her lower lip sheepishly. Perfectly playing her part as BJ plays his. They had done this before, one night with Hawk and the brunette at Peggy's other side had requested an encore.

"You gotta put in another fifty cents like Trap did, or bump it up another quarter or more," Hawkeye supplies, managing a decent poker face himself.

Peg pretends to think for a moment, tongue running along the outside of her teeth behind her lips before she tosses her bet in. "Alright! I'll raise you another dollar!"

"You sure about that, Peg?" Hawkeye questions, eyes flashing with concern even as she nods.

"I'm not a fan out takin' money outta kiss's mouths but if you're sure," Trapper smirks, calling her bet.

"I fold," Beej remakes easily, sitting his cards down and propping an arm on the table to rest his cheek in his palm.

"It's all yours, Peggy," Hawk concedes, his amusement starting to shine through. Hopefully able to be masked as eagerness for Trap to show off.

"Flush!" Trapper announces, spreading his cards on the table.

Peg, for her part deflates a little, shoulders sagging in seeming defeat. "Dammit," she swears. "I think you win, Trap. All I have is a full house." Only when cards on the table, literally and metaphorically, does Peg let the poker face fall away into a cheeky, mischievous smirk of her own.

(this is just 2,500 words of self-indulgent complicated polyam configurations, thanks @lattehearted)

It's not a bad gig, what Hawk's got set up here. Yeah, sure, maybe he hadn't exactly caught Trap up on the specifics of why the hell he was even in California in the first place, but given how they last parted, that's all but expected at this point—the unspoken threat that if Trap is gonna pull the shit he did when he walked off on Hawk again, then that's it, and no two-years-late letter's gonna save him again.

The hosts were, ah...notably chilly as fuck when Trap first arrived, but...well, it's been a month now, and at least one of them has thawed significantly. Peg's sweet, practically an angel. There's more bravery in her pinkie than half the guys he's been shoulder to shoulder with in wars. He doesn't know what kind of saint's got a heart that'll let her husband come home with a man when she's been raising a kid solo for two years nor who'd let a perfect stranger waltz into her home to try and fix the mistake he made years ago.

She's cute. She's sweet. She makes it safe for Trap to let his guard down as he sinks back under Hawk's skin more and more. And by spending time with him over tea or scotch or ice cream—the last one shared by Erin, of course—she makes it way fucking less frustrating for him to learn how to share. After all, Hawk was already reacclimating to civilian life with his pretty boy toy before Trap even bit back his pride and sent his letter to Maine in the first place. And said boy toy's shown no particular desire to let Trapper be alone with Hawkeye any longer than he has to. Compassion for a guy finally shoving down all that old fear of his own desires? Nah, no, get in line, pal, he might as well say, like he doesn't have a perfect wife to attend to as well.

At this rate, he's pretty sure the big guy's never gonna give him more than an inch. But that's fine. They can be civil. And if BJ happens to be so busy with Hawk every night, then...

Well, Trap's certainly no stranger to chasing a wife, even if her husband's grumbling about it.

It's been a long hour of poker so far. Trap's up a little, Hawk's up a lot, BJ's middling, and Peg's only got her last chips. It almost makes him feel bad to take her down to next to nothing. One more hand, she's gonna have to go all in, and once the chips are gone, if she wants to keep playing, then...

Down, boy. Trapper knows a shy girl when he sees one. She's got it written all over her face. It's been there this whole game while she's been struggling to learn. Last thing he wants to do is scare her off with his filthy mouth when the chase is half the fun.

He's actually feeling pretty damn cocky when he spreads out his flush. He's ready to gently remind Peg that the best way to learn to play the game is to lose the hardest—and then he sees the delicate way she skims those cards onto the table, as though she's all too intimately familiar with the feel of them in her hands, and something...sinks in, way, way down deep.

The sparkle in her eyes. The curl of her adorable nose. The way her teeth gleam in the light like a predator. She leans forward ever so slightly, elbows on the table, as though she's trying to drink in his reaction for a very specific reason.

It's been a long, long time since he's been hustled quite so elegantly. And he forgot exactly how quickly it can start an bonfire inside him.

Trap slowly lifts his brows as he stares her back down. "Y'know, Hawk, I think we might've just been hustled."

"I think you might be right, Trap," he drawls right back, fast as a bullet, his timbre as dark and rich as Trapper's ever heard it. "Look at her. She thought she could get away with it."

"Thought there wouldn't be consequences." Trap sets his chin on his fists as his lips start to quirk.

"Thought that just because she was cute, she could rob you down to nothing and just waltz away, unscathed."

Trapper takes a second to flick his gaze to Hawkeye. "That only works for you."

Hawk bats his lashes, those sleepy blue eyes more than a little inviting. He doesn't take his gaze off Trapper, not even when Trap looks back at the little blonde pixie across from him.

"Dunno if you know this, sweetheart, but most people don't take too good to being hustled." Every muscle in Trap's body is coiled, holding him down in his chair. This ain't no nurse he can just pull across the table and kiss the life out of. If he takes a step forward, he's gotta make sure she's not taking one further back. "You've gotta pay your dues. Make it up to me."

Peg pushes her lips out into a frankly impressive pout, dipping her head so her hair falls more in her face. "Well...I'd certainly hate to let you go home empty-handed after I just cleaned you out of so much." It's only the breathy edge of her tone that tickles across Trapper's skin, whispers that she didn't just take one step forward, but two. "Tell me, John. How do I make it up to you?"

It's like missiles go off in his legs, filling them with explosive energy. He shoves back from the table with a grin and starts to stand. "How 'bout I show you?"

A house-slipper-covered foot shoots out, propping loudly on the edge of the chair between Trap's thighs, and he drops back down in surprise and locks eyes with BJ Hunnicutt himself. The man's almost languidly leaned back in his own seat, but Trapper's gotten into enough trouble on the streets of Boston as a kid to know what it looks like when someone's looking for a reason to fight. Not even the smooth smile that plays across BJ's face can make him look any less lethal.

"Please, she's my wife." BJ's voice is deceptively bright. "Whatever she's totaled up, just put it on my tab."

Trap's eyebrows lift. It's not enough for BJ to keep the boyfriend all to himself. No, he's gonna step in and block off his wife too when she's all but giving Trapper the bedroom eyes? He can't help but let out a little huff of a laugh. "Hey, now, don't put other people's things on credit if you're not gonna pay it back, pal."

BJ's lips spread just a bit further—"Oh, not the smirk, Beej," Hawk murmurs from the other side of the table—and he chuckles as well. "You came here for one thing, McIntyre. I don't believe running up a credit line on everybody else was part of that."

"For the record," Peg perks up, "I'm perfectly happy helping to balance the ledgers, Beej. You never minded how I handled the finances before."

BJ doesn't take his eyes off Trapper, but he does flare his nostrils, and a hint of color travels down his long throat as he takes a deep breath. Interesting. Very, very interesting.

"Why the fuck are we all talking in metaphors? What is this, Intro to Lit?" Hawk whispers to Peg. She pats his hand.

It's a tough choice. Hunnicutt here's throwing down a wall around his pretty little wife, brick by brick, but he's going slow. He's not snarling, not running Trapper off. He's clearly hearing every damn word his wife says. But when Trap shifts in the chair, he also sees those hackles go up just slightly, the goading temptation for Trap to see what happens if he chooses Peg's invitation over BJ's claim.

Something tells him he's got a lot more to figure out about how this couple prefers to operate.

"Oy," Hawk mumbles, then stands. He wanders around behind Trapper, fingers trailing little sparks of fire right across his back, and that same hand drifts down Trap's shoulder, his bicep, all the way to where he can snag BJ by the knee. He tugs, bringing the leg back down to the floor, the slipper trailing down the inside of Trapper's thigh as it does.

As BJ's foot hits the ground, Hawk throws a slim leg around his waist and straddles him. "You're trapped now. Oops."

"Am I?" Beej drawls.

"Mm-hmm." Hawk brushes their noses together with a smirk as he wraps his arms around BJ's neck. "It's really a shame."

"I should've known you'd be in cahoots."

"Who, me and your wife? Yeah." Hawk nods thoughtfully. "Yeah, sounds about right."

This time when Trapper gets up, BJ only follows him with his gaze rather than a physical barrier.

He circles the table and leans down until he's on a level with Peg. This close, her wide eyes are pools, so fucking dangerous to toe the edge of. He knows what he could fuck up right here in the name of fun. He knows his body, his mind, his heart. The pale skin on his left ring finger still hasn't started to tan to match the rest of him. If he's not careful, if he actually lets himself fall for her...

Trapper lightly taps her chin with his index finger, tipping her head back so they're closer still. "Feeling brave, soldier?"

He can hear the nervous anticipation in the shivery breath she takes. But to her credit, she doesn't so much as flinch. "Are you?"

His grin widens. Yeah, no, he's fucked. Completely and utterly.

He scoops her up without another hesitation and starts carrying her into the living room. "C'mon. If I'm gonna kiss you, I'll keep your modesty intact by taking you away from the audience."

Peg giggles as she tightens her thighs around his waist. She's got fucking strong legs. It makes a man's mind wander. "You know, from all the stories I've heard about you, I never would've pinned you as someone who gave a damn about a woman's modesty."

"You calling me a cad?" he teases, lifting his brow.

Fun as the banter's been, the unfamiliarity between them rises up. Peg's jaw drops. "Oh, o-oh, no, I wouldn't do that—"

"No, you can, it's true." Trap tumbles back on the couch with her on top of him, then knits a hand around the back of her neck to coax her down. "Call me whatever you want, sweetheart. Just kiss me first."

As Peg sinks her fingers into his curls and his lips meet hers, a wave rushes through him. It's funny. He's fantasized about exactly this for at least two weeks, ever since their first little walk to the park together with Erin in her stroller while the boys took some time to themselves. He just hadn't anticipated that only the taste of her sweet mouth was going to be enough to satisfy him. He could do this—just this—for hours and not get sick of it.

She lifts away just an inch, watching him with a silent question in her eyes, and he answers it by pulling her down to drown with him.

In the other room, BJ leans his chair as far backward as he can, trying to catch a peek at what might be happening, and Hawk chuckles as he tugs him by the shirt collar to look at him again. "You're so jealous, you're about to paint the whole kitchen green."

"I'm not jealous," Beej corrects him with smooth confidence in his own lie. "I am simply making sure that your boyfriend knows how to be a gentleman."

"And what if Peggy doesn't want a gentleman right now, huh?"

It really doesn't take much to call up an image of someone as strong and self-assured as McIntyre pinning down Beej's petite wife, hands around her wrists, making her plead for whatever she wants. Hickeys on her neck. Fingerprints on her forearms. He takes what must be his hundredth huge breath for the evening, but it does nothing to cool the lava storm in his chest. He doesn't yet have appropriate words for the possessive need to reclaim her like he wants. If she begs McIntyre to cover her with his marks, then BJ will have a lovely time plastering over all of them with his own.

Hawk rocks back in his lap and Beej holds him still with his hands on his hips. But it's too late. Hawk's felt the lift of interest in Beej's pants and he's damn well smug about it. "Ohoho," he breathes right against Beej's lips. "You're gonna absolutely ruin her tonight, aren't you?"

"If she'd like." He manages to keep his tone perfectly measured.

"Oh, yeah, Miss Flutters-Her-Eyelashes, friend of every bartender, waiter, handyman, and pool boy in the state, no, yeah, this is the one night she's gonna throw you in the cold shower." But barely before Hawk's even done talking, BJ leans to look again, and Hawk catches him by the cheek and presses their foreheads together. "C'mon. Let her have a little fun." He wiggles. "And let me have mine too."

Beej snorts, but as he slides his arms around Hawk's slim waist, he seems to be relenting. "You're just distracting me so your boyfriend and your girlfriend can neck for a while."

"I'm distracting you because it means I get to have the matinee performance all to myself so I can be in the audience for the grand finale tonight." He sinks his teeth into BJ's bottom lip and sucks it into his mouth, fueled by the rough groan that Beej feeds him. "Whaddya say, huh?"

Beej gives him one long, dangerous stare before he stands and pushes Hawk down on the poker table, scattering cards and chips everywhere. "I say let's raise the curtain."

Hawk throws his head back with an indulgent, self-satisfied smirk as Beej slots their hips together and starts sucking a bite of his own into Hawkeye's neck. He gets the distinct feeling that he's being reclaimed too—and he's really not mad about it. His boyfriends will figure their shit out one day. Until then, he's more than happy to be the spoils of their war.

#HOW THE FUCK DO I TAG THIS #THEY ALL LOOK SILLY #okay let's go girls #trappeg #piercintyre #hunnihawk #punnihawk #my writing #mcpunnihawk #I'M GOING WITH THAT ONE UNTIL ONE OF YOU PEOPLE GIVES ME A BETTER ONE #some things are evergreen

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