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kenobers · 5 months ago

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magic hands | Jason Todd x Sionis!Reader

but first free palestine !! Your regularly scheduled hook-up session with Jason Todd is rudely interrupted by the arrival of your period. As tragedy strikes, you have to ask Jason to buy you pads, perhaps throwing a curveball in your still emerging relationship. this installment comes before this one; you don't know jason is red hood in this one (not that it really matters to this particular story) tw: periods, mentions of drugging, reader having issues with acts of service, afab readera/n: i'm writing additions to this story completely out of order because i can. don't worry - you're gonna be the one comforting jason soon, just stay tuned. and if you're following me for the obi-wan content, i promise you'll also be fed soon. the sionis!reader concept was inspired by this ask on gilverrwrites' blog! In hindsight, it might've been kinda weird of me, but i couldn't get the concept out of my head. thank you to gilverr and anon! please check out their blog!

You cringe a little at your choice of words, wishing you'd thought harder before sending the text. Well actually, you cringe at the entire situation. You despise having to ask for help, but you're a little desperate.

Would you-

Too entitled.

Would you mind-

Passive aggressive.

Will-

Your phone buzzes before you can finish typing.

yo.

That was fast.

You take a deep breath. Jason was coming over anyway and it wasn't like you were in any position to have sex like you were planning to. And this constitutes as a bit of an emergency, considering you're currently sitting on a wad of toilet paper.

Can you pick me up some pads?

You hit send and drop your phone on your bed. This is so embarrassing for no reason. Jason's a good guy, he isn't going to judge you for being on your period of all things. He's not going to hold it against you if you can't have sex either.

It was just that you weren't sure your relationship was...like that. Acts of service and all that. A month ago, you wouldn't have even considered asking him to do this. But you'd been a lot more personal with one another lately. Making dinner, staying the night, being physically affectionate while your clothes were still on.

Your phone vibrates and you frantically feel for the purple case in the grey and white sheets. You'll deal with that giddy feeling later.

i don't know, can i?

Fucker, you think, glaring at your screen. You start furiously forming a response about how you aren't in the fucking mood for this when your phone buzzes again.

yeah, of course i can. need anything else? painkillers? chocolate?

You eye the empty bottle on your nightstand. Your stomach cramps painfully.

I'm out of ibuprofen

Then you consider for a moment. With a sigh, you bite back your pride. Well, if he's offering.

...and maybe some ice cream.

you got it babe.

Babe. Heat rushes to your cheeks as the corners of your mouth twitch upwards.

Ten minutes later his name flashes on your screen again, along with a photo of a wall of pads.

which kind

Damn, he was kind of good at this. A flare of jealousy burns through you at the thought of Jason doing this for some other girl. Another feeling you'll deal with later. You circled your preferred brand and send it back.

check. headed your way shawty.

After another ten minutes, the rumbling of a motorcycle echoes through your street. Nine minutes and 45 seconds later, the sound of your living room window sliding open lures you from your bed.

You fight back a goofy grin at the sight of Jason's large-than-life frame slipping through the window, two plastic bags balanced in one gloved hand. Leaning against your kitchen island, you allow yourself a second to admire the curve of his ass in those joggers.

"Hey," you greet, shivering as a gust of wind followed the man. He gives you a toothy grin, sliding the window shut. With a dramatic flourish of his arm, he presents the drugstore bag to you.

"Your essentials, m'lady."

"Oh, my hero," you giggle, taking the bag gratefully. You eye the second bag suspiciously, although the telltale red thank you print and the smell of fried rice give the contents away. "Chinese?"

"Chinese," he confirms. "And before you say anything, I was already picking it up when you texted."

You purse your lips. He was starting to know you too well. You would've said something, would've lied about how you weren't hungry. The idea that he'd already thought to do something nice for you before he even knew about your situation makes your stomach twist.

Jason takes a step closer, trapping you between him and the island. He reaches behind you to set the food on the counter, green eyes trained on your face. It's hard not to shrink below his quizzical gaze. Goosebumps cover your bicep as the leather of his jacket rubs against your bare arm.

Bastard.

"That okay, pretty girl?"

Fuck, he's handsome. He knows it too, know to flick his dark hair just so. Knows how to look at you so that any "oh, you shouldn't have" argument you can conjure up falters before it can reach your tongue. It certainly doesn't help that he's flexing the arm reaching behind you just so.

"Perfect, even," you purr, uncrossing your arms to play with his jacket zipper. "How much do I owe you?"

"Don't worry about it." You try not to roll your eyes at him, reminding yourself that you were opting to be nicer to him tonight. He is your hero after all. His hands fall to your hips, his thumbs running along the bone. "How you feeling?"

You shrug, suppressing another shiver as his pinkie pokes below the length of your shorts.

"Shitty. Like everything hurts," you answer honestly. Your lip twitches and you abandon his jacket zipper in favor of the strings of his sweatshirt.

"'m sorry we can't, y'know, do what we planned." The apology floods abruptly from your lips. "I would offer to do it anyways, but I just, I-I can't with these cramps." Your hips twinge with pain to emphasize your point. "But, I mean, I can blow you if you really want-"

"Hey."

Two fingers tilt your chin up, tough leather juxtaposing soft skin. You hadn't even realized you'd stopped looking at his face. He's smiling at you.

"Don't worry about it," he says for the second time. "Lemme make you feel better. It'll piss Roman off just as much."

You both look pointedly at the bookshelf you're fairly certain your father had hidden some sort of recording device.

"Besides," he continues with a wolfish smirk. "I've become accustomed to a certain level of performance from you and I'm not sure if I'd receive that if you're not at your peak."

"Fine, only because you insisted," you sigh. "And I'm gonna do you a favor and ignore that last part." You turn away from him, fishing the package of pads and the ibuprofen out of the drugstore bag. "I'm gonna go...yeah."

You wave the package in the air as you head for the bathroom. With your back turned, you don't catch Jason saluting you.

When you return, you notice one of the books on the shelf has been inconspicuously placed over a Wonder Woman knick knack. Part of you is relieved to know your father can't spy on you tonight. Another part of you feels a pang of anxiety knowing that means tonight is just for the two of you to enjoy each other's company. As people. Not fuckbuddies.

This is still casual. Professional, you tell yourself. It's not like he's my boyfriend.

You turn to the kitchen, where Jason is pulling plates out of a cupboard, and ignoring the smaller voice that wouldn't mind him being your boyfriend.

He hands the plates to you, letting you dish the both of you up.

Jason sidles up behind you, pressing his chest to your back. You lean into him, letting him support your weight.

"Chinese was a good call," you say. He hums in response, dipping his hands under your shirt to rub your sides. You yelp in alarm as something wet hits your skin.

"Dude! What the fuck!"

Jason backs up, holding two cream covered hands in the air. He looks apologetic enough, but still smirks at the way you glowered at him over your shoulder. It's an awful cute look when it isn't coming from behind an ugly ass skull mask.

"It's just CBD."

You spin around, pointing your spoon straight at his heart.

"CBD- what, are you trying to get me high?"

It's all Jason can do not to double over laughing. He'd take a picture if he wasn't certain you would find a way to lodge that spoon in a major artery.

His laughter has you fidgeting nervously, trying to maintain your hard stare.

"Don't laugh at me."

To his credit, he stops almost immediately. He straightens his posture and gestures to a small round container on the counter.

"It's just a lotion. Helps with joint pain, I use it all the time. I thought it might help with cramps."

You blink. That was...incredibly thoughtful of him.

"Oh."

You turn back to the food, continuing your task sheepishly. All you ever do in front of this man is embarrass yourself. And orgasm.

He creeps back to his spot cautiously. You glance over your shoulder, briefly meeting his eyes.

"You can...continue," you tell him, your tone much softer now. He presses a kiss to the exposed junction of your neck and slides his hands back under your shirt.

It does feel nice to have him massage the cool lotion into your aching body. His fingers seem to know exactly where to go, undoing the built up tension and leaving a light buzz in its place.

"I'm sorry I snapped like that," you whisper. "I overheard some of my dad's idiots talking about some kind of lube that's infused with LSD or something. Apparently it's becoming a popular method for people to get what they want so...little on edge."

After a moment, Jason speaks again, "I wouldn't drug you like that, you know."

"What, topically?" You scoff, dividing the orange chicken equally.

"Without your consent."

You pause. You suppose you hadn't given much thought to how much Jason respected you in that regard. To be fair, you'd never really been around men that respected you at all.

"Well, that's good to know." It's not the most sensitive response, but you're sudden determined to move on from the conversation before you start oversharing. "Let's eat, big guy."

After dinner, Jason applies the lotion again. This time, you're sat on the couch between his legs as he drives the stuff into a knot on your hip. The TV drones with some black comedy series the two of you have been watching at the recommendation of one of his brothers.

"Do you get a lot of joint pain?" You ask suddenly, looking back at him. He doesn't tear his eyes away from the screen.

"Huh?"

"You said you use it a lot on your joints. Do you get a lot of joint pain?" Now he looks at you, one slit eyebrow raised. For a moment you watch him try to remember when he told you that. Then he smirks, a silly view from upside down.

"I do whenever you get through with me," he says, his chest vibrating under you. You give him a look. "Sometimes after the gym, yeah."

You're not quite sure you believe him, but you let it slide, turning back to the TV in time to see your least favorite character earn a smack to the face.

"It was nice of you to bring it."

"'s helping?"

"Mmh," You sigh as he works a particularly tough spot. Your relief is short lived however as the small of your back cramps up. A small gasp escapes you and you squirm and swear in Jason's arms.

He pauses his work on your hips.

"Where's it hurt?"

"Back," you whimper, turning over so he can get to it. He obliges immediately, rubbing the butt of his palm into the sore spot. You groan into his chest, melting beneath his magic hands. "The fuck did I ever manage this shit before you."

He snorts, "very bravely, I'm sure."

You smile at his answer. Clever boy. You reward him with a kiss, pleased when he returns it in kind. His hand doesn't stop its work on your back as his soft lips move gently with your own.

"You sure you don't want a blowjob?" you murmur against his mouth.

Jason nods, giving you another chaste kiss before pulling away. "You're in pain, sweetheart. Let yourself rest."

He moves his lips to your ear, lowering his voice.

"Now, how about that ice cream, hm?"

Absolute professional.

#i must once again warn you this isn't proof read #no beta we die like jason todd #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x you #jason todd #red hood #sionis!reader #kenobers poetics #this is a little repetitive but that's fine

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simpxxstan · 9 months ago

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it isn't you

pairing: elementary school teacher!boo seungkwan x f.reader

genre: fluff and angst.

summary: you're ready to begin a completely new life in seoul, away from your ex-husband and your baggage of regrets. but fate has different plans for you when you meet seungkwan again, and this time, you don't want to let go.

word count: 8.3k words

rating: pg 13

warnings: reader is a single mother. mentions of divorce, cold parents, poor parent-child relationship, anxiety and worries. mention of accidental pregnancy.

a/n: i CRAVE seungkwan w babies content and i wrote this completely to indulge my own craving. hope you enjoy! as always, would love to hear your thoughts!! reblogs and comments are so much appreciated <3

this is part of the boys over flowers series featuring booseoksoon + chan! this is the second instalment in that series.

“Eomma, there’s no need to be so scared!” Dahyun reminds you, putting her little hands on your arms as she hugs you. “Yes, yes,” you pause your mumbling and hug her back. It’s hard to believe that she turned four last week because she still feels so tiny in your arms. She’s definitely more calm than you as you both stand in front of the school you’ve come to enrol her at.

“It’s just… I’m just checking that you have everything with you. Okay. Eomma will come at three pm, and get you started in the creche, okay? Please listen to your teachers. If you want, talk to your classmates, hmm? I won’t force yo-” “Eomma! Shh! I’ve been to a school before, you know? I know how schools work.” She makes a serious face, and you laugh. “Alright, darling. When Eomma comes, let me know how your first day was. I love you Dahyun-ah, have fun, hmm?” And you press kisses to the side of her head before she plants a wet smooch on your cheek and runs off. “Bye Eomma!”

And she runs without looking back, and you wonder how she’s so relaxed and you’re so tense about her first day.

Probably because you had been a wreck throughout your school days. Well, she’s turned out to be quite not like you. Good for her. Easy for you. You remember your mother being so stressed because her daughter cried after every first day in each new class year at school, didn’t make a single friend till she turned seven, and barely scraped through most of her classes. Yeah, easy for you.

It’s been two months since you’ve shifted from Gwangju to Seoul, and to be honest, you’ve felt like it’s your first day in school again for each day of the last two months. Finding a place for yourself and your daughter, settling down in your new job, and now, getting your daughter’s life started after you uprooted it in the middle of the school year when you moved out of Gwangju. It’s nice that Dahyun’s barely made a mess about it all- she’s honestly too understanding as a child, and you don’t deserve her- but it’s still worrying for you to see your daughter go through all this at such a tender age and think of what impact it may have on her later. Your parents haven’t been the least bit supportive, so all you have is Dahyunie and all she has is you.

When you’re getting up on the bus, once you see Dahyun safely enter the school campus, you feel your phone buzz. It’s your boss calling to find out where you are. You’ve already informed work that you’re going to be about half an hour late so it’s an entirely unnecessary call, but you know he’s a little nosy, although not necessarily with bad intentions. In less than twenty minutes, you’ve reached office and got buried nose-deep into work, and soon, it’s three pm already.

When you arrive at Sebong Elementary School, you see a crowd of parents and their tiny tots gathered around what you think is the hall where the creche is going to be organised. You’re frantically looking for Dahyun in the crowd, when something comes and jumps at your knees. “Eomma!” A brightly-smiling Dahyun hugs your legs and you quickly bend down to pick her up. “Hi, hi, sorry I’m late, I got-” “It’s okay, Eomma.” She kisses you on the cheek before wrapping herself like a koala on your side. “How was your first day, baby?” “Good. Not 5 stars because there was so much crying-” “Oh dear, why?” “Because some of the other kids were missing home! I didn’t cry, because I was having fun talking to my teachers and making friends and colouring into my alphabet book and-” “Oh, darling you made friends? Such a brave baby,” you kiss her, as you both walk towards the hall and Dahyun continues her loud rambling all about her school day. And soon, along with the other twenty-odd parents and their children, you finally make it into the hall. There are two teachers standing up on one side, greeting the children. You can see one of them is a female, wearing a bright green banner pasted to her shirt with her name printed on it. The other teacher is a male, and he has his back towards you. You slowly make your way to the female teacher, who apparently Dahyun recognises from one of her classes. Once she’s greeted you two and assigned you a seat, you sit there quietly. Dahyun finds a few familiar faces in the crowds and you make small talk with their parents, while the others settle down.

“Hello everyone! Welcome to Sebong Creche! We’re so happy to have you all here with us.” The female teacher greets the crowd and everyone smiles and claps softly, as do you. Suddenly your phone is buzzing. It’s your boss again. Seems that the message that you’re taking the half day off hasn’t reached him, so you’re trying to type him a message when a voice surprises you.

No, it, in fact, makes your head spin and your heart stop.

“My name is Boo Seungkwan and this is Choi Ria! We’ll be taking care of the creche for the next six months! Pleased to meet you all.”

Fuck. Your phone slips and drops from your hand and Dahyun yelps in your lap in surprise. The phone makes a dreadfully loud sound, and in the silence of the room, everyone looks at you. You gulp and pick up your phone, trying to avoid drawing more attention, but you can’t help but notice one pair of eyes fixated on you, the single person you’d tried to avoid.

Seungkwan.

And god, he looks just the same as he did five years ago when you’d seen him last before leaving for Gwangju. His hair is now brown and his blue sweater brings out the fresh glow of his skin, and fuck you if every regret of your life isn’t flooding into your mind at this very second. The female teacher speaks up, thankfully taking the attention from you, but not Seungkwan. His eyes still linger on yours, a confused expression in his eyes, before looking away and breaking eye contact.

Oh god. Just when everything was going to go right.

Once the initial briefings are over, parents are offered the chance to leave and pick their children back again at the designated time, or sit through this first session as the kids get used to the creche atmosphere. Dahyun is right- too many kids are crying. And you would too, if you had been here. But Dahyun is lively, she’s confidently eating her banana and singing to herself as the teachers give everyone their snacks.

But to be fair, your eyes are only on Seungkwan. He’s moving around with a lithe familiarity, and children cling to him with every minor inconvenience. It’s in the way he’s talking to them, the way he’s approaching them, and in the way he’s handling them with so much care, that you already feel safe about leaving Dahyun here.

It’s not a new sensation, though. Feeling safe around him.

So when everyone leaves and Dahyun has finally packed her bag and run to the spot you’ve been sitting all the while, you pick her up and turn around to find Seungkwan standing near you. Up close, even with the tiredness setting into his features, you notice how manly and mature he looks- so different from the fresh-faced college boy you’d left behind in Seoul so many years ago.

“Hello Ms. Y/L/N. Thank you for trusting your… daughter with us.”

Oh. Formals. So it’s going to be like that, is it. Dahyun giggles when Seungkwan extends a hand to pat her hair, his hand awfully close to your own hand, so he quickly takes his hand away. “Seungkwanie Ssaem likes tangerines, he said! I like banana!” Dahyun giggles again, and you finally let out a breath and say, “I’m relieved to know that I’m leaving her in capable hands.” Because, truly, who would take care of Dahyun like Seungkwan would? Who would care for Dahyunie with hands so gentle, and a smile so kind, and eyes so soft like Seungkwan would? Seungkwan would sense, would know by instinct, what she would want. After all…

And then Seungkwan gives you a tight smile, much less kind than the one he gives to Dahyun, and waves you goodbye. You look away, unable to stare any longer, and make your way home with your little angel in your arms.

School works out excellently for Dahyun-ah. It turns out Seugnkwan is not always there. There are two teachers working out alternately. So you can only catch Seungkwan again two days later, when you arrive a tad bit late and find Dahyun sitting on Seungkwan’s lap and the both of them playing with a playdough.

“I didn’t know you teach in this school, Seungkwan.” You say when he comes to hand your child to you. He doesn’t meet your eyes, still distracted with scratching off the playdough from Dahyun’s fingers. “I wouldn’t have come here if I’d known,” you add softly and he looks up. It’s true, but it’s not something you necessarily regret.

“Does it matter?”

You keep the eye contact, and whisper, “It does.” Seungkwan turns away, clearly not intent on melting ice so quickly. “Seungkwan-ah, it’s not what you think it is!”

He turns back ever so slightly. “Has it ever been what I’ve thought it is?”

Right then, Dahyun pokes your shoulder and yawns, indicating how sleepy she is. It’s time to go home.

“Eomma!” Dahyun asks you as soon as you reach the creche. Today you’re on time, so it’s still crowded with other kids and their parents who’ve come to pick them up. You bend down and kiss Dahyun on her cheek. “Aww my baby.” She kisses you back, “Eomma I had a question!” You nod, fixing her shoes on her feet. “Why does my name start with Y/L/N and not Lee like Appa’s? All my friends at the creche have their names starting with their Appa’s family name.” Oh god. She’s about to find- she knows, she knows, she’s- she’s angry at you for hiding it-

“Dahyunie, I’m sorry I-”

“Huh? Why’re you saying sorry, Eomma?” She looks genuinely confused and you reconsider for a second. Was it an innocent question or-”

“You look like you’re about to cry.”

In your mess, you haven’t even noticed when the crowds have started to clear up and Seungkwan has crouched down next to you, holding a small cup of water. You stare at him, his big, beautiful, brown eyes, and you take the cup slowly.

Dahyun smiles at her teacher, and you remember how Seungkwan was so intent on not conversing with you the last time you tried to talk to him. So you’ve made up your mind. If he wants to keep his distance, you will too. He wasn’t in the plan, anyway. But then Seungkwan asks, “I want to know too. Why does she not have her father’s family name?” You realise then, just how close he is to you. Your conversation is happening in it’s own bubble, and the rest of the world won’t even be able to hear anything. The pink from Dahyun’s dress reflects on Seungkwan’s face, giving it a more bubblegum glow than usual. He keeps his eyes on yours, and you feel obligated to answer.

“That’s because… Appa isn’t family anymore. Ever since I left Gwangju.”

That’s the most sugar-coated way you can explain it to Dahyun, who seems to get it nevertheless. She nods and explains to Seungkwan- “Eomma and Appa don’t talk to each other anymore. That’s why we’re here in Seoul. It’s already been three months.” You know she’s starting to forget her father’s voice, she told you once in the warm moments before sleep. You’d cried in the bathroom that night, feeling terrible and only calming down once you reminded yourself that it was your only choice.

Seungkwan keeps looking at you. There’s something in his eyes, as his eyes go from your eyes, to your lips and then fall to your hand where he notices the absence of a wedding ring. Maybe it is curiosity, you wonder. But he also doesn’t ask anything else in front of Dahyun, and you’re thankful.

“Your daughter is lovely.”

You bite your lip to stop yourself from correcting him. ��She is. Just turned four.” His eyes become curious again, but then he blinks and looks at Dahyun. “I was wondering if you’d enrolled her into any sports classes? I think she’d enjoy them, because she’s an active child.”

You nod, “I did consider. I didn’t know which classes were good in Seoul so I’d thought I’d wait another year before enrolling her to ensure she settles down well…”

“Oh. That’s your call, I guess. But Dahyun seems to be settling down well enough. If you want… distractions, say… then a sport activity would be great.”

“You’re right. I’ll check it out for sure. If you had any suggestions…”

“There’s a badminton coaching centre nearby. Perhaps you could check them out.”

“Thank you. I will. Thank you so much.” Seungkwan nods once at you, eyes lingering, before he waves sweetly at Dahyun and takes his leave.

That night, your subconscious plays tricks on you. It floods your dreams with memories, leaving you sweaty and squirmy at night, even as the air conditioner blasts cool air into the room. Memories you thought you’d forgotten. Memories of a certain boy running laps in the college volleyball field during practice and you sitting in the corner of the ground, finishing your homework. Memories of that boy running to you during the ten minute break, sipping an energy drink from his sipper and kissing you in the spot of shade you’ve been sitting in, his mouth tasting like the orange flavour of the drink. Memories of you giggling, because his sweat is rubbing on your arms and he’s so gross, but you still can’t stop yourself from hugging him close for the rest of the short break. Memories of him promising to convince Coach to let him go fast because he wants to walk you home because it’s so unsafe to walk alone in the evening. Memories of Seungkwan giving you a last peck on your lips before jogging back to the grounds, both his and your cheeks smudged with sunshine and affection, eyes warm with the power of love, and hearts pure without any worry of life.

“Hello?” Your voice is desperate as you wait for the person on the other side of the line to answer. This is the first time you’re calling the creche, as your boss had suddenly decided you need to finish a task before leaving, even if it’s raining cats and dogs outside, even if you have a daughter who’s waiting for you at a creche, even if it’ll be totally fine to finish the task at home and submit it later. Consequently, you got out of work late and the bus is stuck in a road full of traffic due to the terrible weather and you’re already half an hour late to Dahyun’s creche’s closing time.

“Yes, this is Sebong Creche. I’m speaking to?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, this is Dahyun’s mom-”

“Y/N?” It’s Seungkwan. He must be able to hear the way your voice is cracking with panic. It’s odd to introduce yourself as Dahyun’s mom to Seungkwan but that’s the way it is now.

“I’m so sorry, I really am-”

“Calm down, please. Tell me what’s happening.”

“I… I got stuck at work… and I’m running late. I’m sorry for all this inconvenience-”

“Y/N, shh. Stop apologising and talk to me. Where are you now?”

“Umm, I’m still at my office. Please leave her near a guard or someone, Seungkwan, and I can pick her up in a short while! I’m trying to get out of her as soon as-”

“I can take her to your home.”

“Oh but-”

“Dahyun’s told me that you live in the neighbourhood right next to the school. I can walk her till there. She has a spare key, yes? She can get in.”

“But it’s raining!”

“And we have raincoats.”

“I don’t want to impose on you, honestly. You could just leave her-”

“And let her be alone? Y/N, you’re out of your mind.”

“But I don’t want to trouble you, Seungkwan-ah.”

“Do you not trust me?” You pause. You do trust him. There is nobody else you would trust more with your daughter. Fuck it.

“I do trust you.”

“Then finish your work and come home safely. Dahyunie and I will head to your home.”

It’s about two hours later that you are able to reach home, only to find Seungkwan and Dahyun both giggling away at something he’s showing to her on his phone. They’re sitting at the island in the kitchen, and you notice the bottle of milkshake that had been stored in the fridge for Dahyun is now empty next to her. When you enter, they notice you and Dahyun immediately squeals out in joy. She gets off the high chair she was sitting in and comes running to you and you immediately pick her up in your arms. Something unfamiliar and beautiful blooms in your mind, but it’s immediately clouded down by a sadness which you don’t understand.

When Dahyun falls asleep after you feed her dinner which you whip up quickly, Seungkwan’s still sitting in your kitchen, eating the rice and chicken you’ve made.

“You still cook well, Y/N.”

You’re sitting across from him, and you pick up another piece of chicken and put it on his plate. “I’m glad you still like it.”

Oh god. He’s too close for confort. He’s right here, in your house, eating dinner you’ve made, after looking after your child for two whole hours while you were stuck at work.

Is this what life would’ve turned out to be had you not left him four years back?

It seems that he’s thinking the same thing too, because he asks you, “Did you get the job you were studying for?”

“Yeah. I did. I am an actuary now.”

He smiles, digging into his food again, scrunching up his face as he chews it all down.

“And you? I didn’t think you’d ever planned to become a teacher.”

“I didn’t. Someone told me something about volleyball being an unstable career. And I thought maybe I should switch.”

You sigh. He says it so normally, even when simply hearing it breaks your heart. You stop yourself from crying, because you know it’ll just be more pathetic. You won’t be able to explain to him why you’re crying. You won’t be able to explain why your heart aches everytime you see them together. You’ve spent many a night awake, wondering what would happen if your secret gets out. It’s so cruel that fate has landed you back into the proximity of the one man you had never imagined you would see again. And sometimes you hope a silver lining may emerge from this all, but it’s a faint hope. A daydream you don’t think you can afford to dream at this juncture of life.

“I did get her into badminton like you said. She’s a natural, the teacher said.” As expected. Seungkwan smiles proudly, and you nearly tear up. He doesn’t even know what he’s doing to you. “I hope you don’t stop her from playing even when she grows up.” He says quietly, picking up his plate and walking towards the sink. You shrink further into your seat.

“You know it wasn’t me.”

“No, but you might have the same views as your mother.”

“You should know I don’t. There’s a reason why Sehun Oppa and I are divorced now.”

He puts the plate in the sink and turns around to look at you. “I’m sorry to hear that.” You walk towards him and stand next to him as you start the tap to wash the dishes. “I’ll do that,” he offers, but you swat his hand away. “It’s my house. You’re my guest.” “It’s a quaint house. Very you.” “Is it? I didn’t have enough time to decorate it.” “I think it’s enough- sparse but not too empty. There is room for more, better now that she’s out of her clumsy phase.” “Hmm, what would you add?” “I don’t know, let me see.” He leans against the kitchen counter, the dim lights casting a beautiful shadow under his eyelashes which make his high cheekbones look so delicate. “I’d add a standing lamp in that corner, next to the couch. And perhaps a rug in front of the couch. Better for Dahyun than sitting on the cold wood floor. And I’d- Oh sorry. I’m saying too much.” “No, really. Your ideas are helpful. I haven’t thought much about all this but when you say it, I can picture it.” You look up and smile at him, his head tilted down as he looks at you intensely. “And perhaps a photo frame on the wall between the kitchen and the living space. Those new trendy collage ones. And, also a…”

Oh god. He’s making it so hard for you to not lean in and press a kiss to his cheek right now. He’s making it so hard for you to tell him everything- from the beginning, the entire truth.

“Do you want dessert? I have chocolate ice cream.” You know he can’t turn down ice cream. So you just laugh when you see his hesitant smile turn into a shy smile, and you ask him to sit at the couch. When you take out two scoops for each of you and take it to the couch, he shifts to the opposite end of the couch to make room for you.

“I don’t know if it’s my place to ask you, but have you told Dahyun about the… divorce?”

You sigh, “No. I haven’t. I’m just hoping that she’ll eventually forget about him quickly… she is young, after all.”

“Won’t he want to meet her?”

“No, we’ve completely cut ties. It was the only option- I had to move on totally. And he didn’t want to keep any link either.”

His eyebrows furrow, and you can see the questions in his eyes. You don’t want to say anything because you don’t want to appear like a damsel in distress, but you also don’t want to worry him.

“He wasn’t abusive or anything. We just realised that it was a marriage in futility. Divorce was a relief to both of us.”

Surprisingly, it doesn’t reduce the questions in his eyes. But he doesn’t ask anything, and you don’t elaborate. You’ve overshared enough.

“I just want to thank you again, Seungkwan-ah. For taking care of Dahyun and bringing her to my place. You know as a mother I am incredibly grateful.”

“Just because we’re exes doesn’t mean I won’t take care of your daughter, Y/N-ah,” he chuckles bitterly. “She’s like my own, and I would do it for anyone else. It is my job, and you know it is my nature.”

You do. It feels like whiplash to hear that he would indeed do the exact same thing for anyone else too, it feels like a gash from a knife slashed across your chest. You choke, but you muffle it as a laugh. “I know it is your nature. But I still want to thank you, nonetheless.”

He smiles. “Thanks for the ice cream. I’ll not be a bother to you anymore now.”

“You could never be a bother, Kwan-ah.” He doesn’t say anything and simply takes your leave. It’s a night that feels bittersweet to you. While it’s a nice feeling to be basked in Seungkwan’s warmth again, it feels cruel that you’ll never truly enjoy his affection, or even his friendship.

The ice does break after that day. Seungkwan gives you smiles when you go to pick up Dahyun, and that initial tenseness is definitely gone. But you don’t push it too much. You don’t want to push the status quo because you’re afraid it’ll all be gone again. You’re afraid you won’t be able to protect yourself and your happiness once again because of your own mistakes. You’ve done it once before, and it’s not ended pretty. You can’t afford to repeat errors.

“You must cut off ties with him right away, Y/N. Or else you’ll never see me or your father again.” Your mother’s voice booms through the room, muffling the sounds of your tears as you beg at her feet. Your father stands on the other side, looking outside the window, in that unfeeling, emotionless attitude you have always seen him wear.

“But why, Eomma! What harm has Seungkwan done to you or me or anyone at all?”

“That boy is a gold-digger! He’s after your money. He knows very well he’ll get nowhere with volleyball. A sport should remain a hobby, but I doubt a middle class doofus like him would ever have the brains to even make a decent livi-”

“Oh you’re so wrong, Eomma! How can you say such things about him when you don’t even know him?”

“That’s enough. I know enough, Y/N. And I know he is not the man you ought to be spending your life with. He will not make you happy.” Your mother stands up from her seat and walks away, carelessly pushing you aside on her way. She would trample you down and walk over you like an ant even if you’d laid down at her feet.

Honestly, what had you ever expected from your parents when you’d told them on the day of your graduation that you had a boyfriend? You had tried to explain how wonderful Seungkwan was, but they had turned a deaf ear and insisted you cut off all relations with him. With college over, you could do nothing to stop their plans- they took away your old phone, gave you a new contact number with which you could neither contact Seungkwan nor your friends, and didn’t allow you to leave the house. It was terrible- a true prison. So when your mother had offered you one chance to leave this prison- by marrying Sehun, you’d taken it. You’d taken it because you had known it would be drastically better than living cooped up in this mess forever- your heart aching, your mind helpless and your body tired.

Even after moving to Gwangju and starting a new life with Sehun didn’t take away the emptiness you felt in your soul. But you, like an utter coward, had resigned to this fate and accepted married life with Sehun with open arms, ready to forget about your cherished past, about Seungkwan and all that you had loved earlier. And Sehun charmed you so neatly- with gifts, affection and everything you wanted. It was so different from the manner in which Seungkwan had loved you- while he’d been tender, always asking you before doing anything, never discouraging and always supporting in the background, Sehun was more active, more aggressive in the way he made you feel special. He would often take you on these whirlwind date nights- where he would make love to you under the stars in entire picnic spots he would book for you, where you drove for miles away from the city and spent the weekend in tea plantations, where you didn’t even have to ask and he would drop the world at your feet. It was a new sort of heaven, a rush of adrenaline you had never experienced before. Not with your parents- who had never treated you with any affection. Not with Seungkwan- who’d been equally giving, but shy, passive and so soft in his love. And this rush of adrenaline blew you off your feet.

Until the news arrived.

One month into this new marriage, you’d found out, only by accident, that you were pregnant. Had been pregnant for an entire month. Sehun was, of course, overjoyed. You’d asked the doctor to not tell him the exact duration of your pregnancy, because of course, you knew that it wasn’t possible that the child growing inside you had been conceived with Sehun at least a week before your wedding.

That really broke you out of the haze your new marriage had trapped you in. Guilt and sadness tore into your newly patched up heart and reminded you of the boy you’d left behind at home, without even a message of where you were going. God knows how worried he may have been for you. Instead of considering him even once, you’d been swayed away by the pleasures of married life like a fool, that too, with a man you knew no more than a mere family friend, with a man whom, honestly, you did not love, with a man who had been planted in your life by your parents to distract you away from Seungkwan.

Oh god.

Your parents had won, and you’d lost.

And that broke you down. No matter how hard Sehun tried, he could not get your spirit back into the relationship- and you knew that this was the end of your marriage. After that, everything was just hollow clockwork, living with a stranger who slept in your bed, ate on the same dining table, and resided under the same roof as yours. You had become reckless. Under the added influence of hormones, you let yourself get aloof from everyone and everything, choosing to bury yourself in your self-pity and detaching yourself from society.

And then it was only Dahyun who made you smile again.

Little Dahyun who became the light of your life. Your reason to live again, your reason to find meaning and joy again. Because she was a part of you. And because she was a part of Seungkwan. So you’d named her accordingly. Your little bundle of sunshine.

Oh boy, did she look like her father. Of course, Sehun never found out. He was extremely caring towards Dahyun, ever a doting father, just as giving and aggressive about his love as he had been as a husband. It was a miracle that Dahyun was born slightly later than nine months- never causing any suspicion to rise in his mind at all. And it broke your heart a little bit, but then you remembered that Sehun was never on your side, really. For all you knew, perhaps he’d just been instructed by your parents to make you feel so loved that it would make you forget about Seungkwan. And he’d definitely succeeded. Almost.

Eventually, you became less of a wreck and more normal. Mostly because of Dahyun and how you wanted to be the best mother ever for her. But also because you realised that this was not worth giving up all your happiness for. So you went back to the world- socialising, finding a job, and doing everything you could to settle down into this life in your new home. But it never really became your home. At the end of the day, when you’d lie down in your bed with Dahyun cradled in your arms, you’d still have that empty feeling somewhere inside, wanting more from life. But obviously, you never dared to tell anyone the truth. You don’t have a way out, so it was best to fit in, until opportunity arose.

“Eomma, Seungkwan Ssaem said yes!” Dahyun’s shrill voice greets you when you arrive at the creche. “Yes to what, sweetie?” “To my birthday, of course!” She’s snugly sitting on Seungkwan’s shoulders, and it strikes you in full force, just how much she resembles her father. The large boba brown eyes, crinkled at the edges, the bangs slipping back to reveal an elegant forehead with the tiny nose and small, rosy lips, that highlight the high cheekbones and the full, plump cheeks you so adore. It’s a wonder no one has noticed it before. And you dearly hope it remains like that.

“Oh, you invited him, did you now?” You carefully ask, as Seungkwan lets Dahyun climb off his back and towards the shoe rack. “Her birthday is this Sunday. Of course, I won’t expect you to attend. She’s a child… she doesn’t know what she’s doing. She just wants to invite everyone she likes to her party, I guess.”

“It’s an honour to be liked by someone as fascinating as Dahyun-ah, Y/N. It’s hurtful that you don’t expect me to be at her party on her special invitation.” He smiles, that gentle, indulging smile of his which he uses whenever he’s teasing you, and you know it’s coming but you always get so riled up by his teasing.

“No! I didn’t mean it like that… oh god. I haven’t gotten better with words with time, have I?”

Seungkwan’s smile becomes wider.

“You haven’t changed at all.”

You remember the night of Dahyun’s third birthday party in Gwangju. Sehun had organised the most lavish party for her, complete with balloons of every colour and inviting nearly all her classmates at her school. Dahyun, ever the extrovert, had been so happy that night.

But that was the night everything changed.

Sehun takes you into a room, away from the crowds of the party, and you ask him, confused, “What’s going on?”

“You know I went to the hospital today with Dahyun to get her regular checkup from her paediatrician.”

“I do know, yes. What about it?”

“Guess what he said. He said, among other things, Dahyun was late-born child. She was born ten months after she was conceived, not nine months.”

You drop the glass you were holding in your hand, and you feel like you can’t breathe.

“Oppa, I can explain.”

“There’s nothing to explain. She isn’t mine, is she?”

You heave a breath as you try to calculate what his next step might be. You try to calculate whether offense or defense should be your correct strategy here, because truly you have nothing to lose, except your daughter. If Sehun kicks you out and makes a show in front of your parents, you’ll run away so far that they’ll never be able to track you.

But he doesn’t give you a chance to speak.

“We were never really married, were we?” His hand shakes as he comes to cup your cheek. “Let’s not stay together any longer. Let’s get divorced, hmm?”

You breathe out a sigh of relief. Out of every possible answer that he could’ve given, this is undoubtedly the best, and the safest, one.

“Yes, let’s do that, Sehun. Let’s not pretend we love each other anymore.”

Tonight, you’ve tried to give her a little bit of that splendour Sehun had given her while you both had been in Gwangju. You’ve baked her a cake with three types of chocolate, invited as many of her friends from school as she’d ever mentioned in her stories about school, and cooked tteokbokki and tangsuyuk, her favourite dishes, for the entire group at the party.

But then Seungkwan arrives.

Seeing him reminds you of his words at the creche where you last saw him, which had given you butterflies for the past few nights. He’d taken you back to the giggling mess you’d been at the freshman’s welcome party when Seungkwan had complimented your dress that you’d tailored for yourself and taken away your heart. Of course, it had taken many more months for you to gather the courage to even speak to him, and then more months for you both to officially begin dating, but you’d known on that night of the welcome party that Boo Seungkwan would always be your weakness.

And you were right. His words have lingered in your mind these last few days, and now that he’s arrived at Dahyun’s party with another teacher from the school who Dahyun had specially invited, wearing a black shirt and black trousers, his hair gelled up and a bit of lip balm on his lips, he’s still giving you butterflies.

“Thank you for coming really! Dahyun will be so overjoyed. She’s just in the other room with all the friends, they’re playing with her toys.”

“Oh it’s nothing at all. We just dropped by because we love Dahyun so much, and because hyung was so insistent,” the other teacher, Chan, says. “We haven’t met each other yet, have we?” “No, I’m afraid not. But I have heard so much about your dance classes from Dahyunie. She’s really big on sports and dancing, such an active child. A complete opposite from me, so it’s a little hard for me to understand.” You smile as you hand them both a piece of the birthday cake.

“Oh, she must’ve taken after her dad.” Chan says with a smile, unknowingly speaking the truth.

“You’re right. She has.”

“This tastes amazing, Y/N-ah.” Seungkwan quietly says as he eats his cake.

“Oh. I’m glad. I made it for her. Chocolate is her favourite flavour.”

“Would it be too much for ask for another slice?” Chan says with a giggle, and you cry out, “Of course not! I’m a bad host for not offering you anyway. I’m sorry, here you go.”

“So, you and hyung know each other from college, I heard.”

Seungkwan’s sharp breath can be heard and you’re instantly on the edge. “Yes. We… were friends.” We were in love. “Your hyung wanted to become a volleyball star at that time, Chan-ssi.” I stole his dream from him. “Oh really? I never knew you played it so seriously, hyung! Y/N-ssi, did you also play?” “Oh no. Like I said, I was never into sports.��

“No.” You almost miss Seungkwan’s voice. “Your parents never encouraged you to try out sports.” Chan looks at him puzzled, and he continues, “It’s important for parents to let children experiment with different things as a child to let them make their own choices. I hope you won’t make the same mistakes your parents made, Y/N-ah.”

You’re silent for a second before replying, “I’m here because I’m not going to make the same mistakes, Seungkwan. But it’s fair for you to not trust me to be a good mother.”

“I never said that,” his eyes soften. “I’ve always known you’d be the best mother, Y/N-ah. And I can see that in the way Dahyun’s been brought up.”

In that moment with electricity charged between your gazes, you’ve both forgotten about Chan sitting there right in between you two. There’s so much going unsaid, so much you can’t even explain, so much you don’t even want to admit to yourself.

“Chan Ssaem! Seungkwan Ssaem! You came!” Dahyun bursts in suddenly, and behind her are a flurry of other tiny kids from her class. They all cheer very loudly on seeing their teachers, quite shocked to see them outside class. Seungkwan gives her a gift- it’s a set of jigsaw puzzles, and Chan places a faux crown on her head as he gives her a book. The tensions dissolve, and you’re glad.

Chan leaves after a short while, but on your (and Dahyun’s) request, Seungkwan stays. He stays long enough to see all the kids leave one by one, and Dahyun becoming tired from all that playing and chattering. So after you’ve cleaned up the house from the mess of the party, grateful that your daughter enjoyed so much but also overstimulated from it all, you almost cry when you see Seungkwan sitting on the couch with Dahyun asleep in his lap, his head bent as he scrolls through his phone. You wonder, if in another life, in another world, in another universe, this would be your life and not a mirage you yearned for.

But what if you were brave? What if you could be ambitious and try to have it all in this life itself?

“Ice cream for dessert.” You hand the bowl to Seungkwan as you sit on the other side of the sofa. You softly take Dahyun and twist her into your lap, and she instantly wraps herself around you as she finds your warmth. You can’t help but kiss her forehead fondly, mirroring the expression Seungkwan wears right now.

“You’ve really brought her up so well. She’s got all your good genes.”

“And yours.”

Seungkwan’s hand stills mid-air when he was trying to scoop into the ice cream.

“What did you say?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve never wondered. She is four years old, and she looks remarkably like you. The similarities are obvious.”

“But I… I didn’t dare to- no! You’re lying.” Seungkwan’s voice becomes a harsh whisper as he stares at you incredulously. You match his gaze, letting down your shield. “I’m not.” He continues to stare at you. Then he suddenly drops to his knees near your feet and says, “Y/N. Don’t be cruel to me anymore. You can’t joke about-” “I’m not joking, Seungkwan, why won’t you believe me?” “Because I don’t want to believe and become hopeful only to lose it all again!” You’re both nearly shouting but in loud whispers, trying to not wake up Dahyun, who’s surprisingly, still peacefully snoring away.

You stand up and pull Seungkwan to his feet. Then you drag him to the bedroom and gently close the door.

“You can test it. I’m not lying.” You softly grab his wrist, but he shivers. “You’re going to make me mad, Y/N. How is this possible? Why did you not tell me? Why did you leave me then?” He finally asks, his voice hoarse with emotion.

“Do you really not know?”

“No… I do. You sent that letter.”

“I didn’t. I found out years later about it. My mother sent it. You think I’d break up with you over a typed letter?”

“So? What was it for?”

“They didn’t let me out of the house. Wouldn’t let me meet you. Or anyone. The only way to get out of that hell was to marry Sehun.”

“I read about the wedding in the local newspaper.” He shakes his head bitterly. “But he was truly your match- in status, and in wealth.”

“You know I’ve never cared for anything like that.” You tug at his wrist, and he looks up at you.

“Is that why you left him? Because of Dahyun? But why so late then?”

“I was waiting to gather enough finances. Plus, he didn’t even suspect anything until six months ago. Perfectly timed, coincidentally, for my savings to come up to a good amount for me to confidently move out.”

He shakes his head vigorously, his eyes wide. “No, no… you’re not making sense. Can you start from the beginning?”

So you do. You tell him everything, from the beginning. By the end of it, he’s sitting on your bed, next to you, as you both stare at your feet. It feels so relieving and so freeing to tell him, someone apart from yourself the whole truth. It’s like a weight lifted off your chest and a headache that dissipates into thin air. You slouch back and look at Seungkwan, who’s still looking like he’s in shock.

After a solid ten minutes, he says, “Why didn’t you tell me before, Y/N?”

“I… I don’t know. I didn’t know how you’d react, I didn’t know if you’d accept us. I didn’t know what would happen if somehow the truth reached my parents. I was obsessed with protecting my daughter, first, you see.”

“I do see. But I… it still hurts that you didn’t trust me with it.”

“But it would be fair for you… back then, and even now, to not want us in your life. To remain strangers forever. I- I would understand. You have every right to be angry at me-”

“I’d think you would know me better than this, Y/N-ah. You would know that no matter how many times you leave me, if you ever want to come back I would open my arms wide and fall to your feet to let me love you again.”

A stray tear escapes your eyes. It’s a stab to your chest, and you extend a hand slowly to touch Seungkwan’s hands which lie in his lap. He doesn’t say a word, only opens his fingers to capture your hand in his and tightly seals the clasp. It’s so warm, his hands. The touch is remarkably familiar.

“What do you want, Seungkwan-ah? I’ve given it all up to you. I’ll take whatever you give me.”

He just looks up at you, his hand still holding on to yours. He doesn’t say a word, but then he gently leans in. You think he’s going to whisper something, but then he places a small kiss on your lips. It’s a peck, no more, but it sends your body in overdrive. Suddenly, you’re floating and drowning all at the same time. “She has your hair,” he says, his breath mingling into yours as his lips move just a few inches away from you, eyes still locked. You giggle. It’s true- Dahyun’s hair is just the same as yours, but the rest of her completely looks like him, you know. “I can’t… I can’t believe it that you’re here, Kwan-ah.” “Neither can I. When you arrived at the creche that day, I thought I was hallucinating. Even more when I saw your little girl sitting in your arms.” “Our little girl. We made her.” You can see the way Seungkwan’s entire face turns red. “Fuck, Y/N. How can you say it so easily?” “Because I’ve had four years to adjust to it. I’m sorry if I’ve bombed you with too much information too fast.” “No kidding. It felt like that climax scene from a romcom movie except this is real life, it was my life.” “Don’t be dramatic. Why did you kiss me?” “Because I missed you?” And it’s your turn to become red with embarrassment. Some part of you feels overjoyed, but still so guilty. So you move away from him, taking away from your hand from his grip and turning your entire body away.

“Y/N?”

“I’m sorry, Kwan-ah. I’ve hurt you so much already. You shouldn’t forgive me so easily.”

He softly grips your shoulders and turns you to face him. “I have been hurt by your actions, it’s true. You left me in an abyss from which only I know how I escaped. But it still didn’t feel like you. After all the love you gave me, how could you just run away from me by leaving that letter and marry someone else? I couldn’t believe that you could be so cruel, so deceiving. But everything around me told me I was wrong. Your marriage announcement, the way you didn’t call me or even contact me, or in fact, any of our college friends, everything was eventually proving to me that you were gone forever from my life.”

More tears flood down your cheeks. His grip tightens, and he continues. “But you’ve explained the truth to me, and now I can’t help but forgive you. Because I know I was right. All along, in my heart, I knew it and I was right. And now you’re here. I would be a fool to let you go again.”

“But-”

“There’s no buts. I’m not looking back.”

And he hugs you, his warmth engulfing your entire body as you cling to him. He smells sweet, like he did all those years ago, and you hold him close, so close that you can’t breathe but you can’t let go either.

“Baby? I can’t breathe.” Seungkwan whispers in your ears, and you shiver in the shock of hearing the pet name. “I’m sorry, I’ll-”

“No, don’t be sorry. Let’s get Dahyunie into bed, hmm? Do you sleep with her?”

“I do. This is our bedroom.”

“Then let’s get her to bed.”

“Will you stay?”

“Hmm?” Seungkwan looks at you, his eyes wet but fond, as he walks towards the door to pick up Dahyun where she’s sleeping on the couch.

“Stay with us?”

“Are you going to tell Dahyun?”

“What do you say?”

“It’s your call. You’re her mother.”

“And you’re her father,” you whisper as you walk towards him and sling your hands around his neck.

“God, don’t say it so casually. It hasn’t sunk in yet.”

You lean in and kiss him on his cheek. “I was thinking- maybe if she woke up and found her favourite Ssaem cuddling her, would she be pleasantly surprised?”

“What if she gets creeped out?”

“Oh god. I think Dahyun loves you enough to not be creeped out by it. At most, she’d think we’re dating now.”

“We’re not?”

“Are we?”

He kisses you softly on your cheek, an open-mouthed kiss that leaves your skin wet. “I love you Y/N. I never stopped loving you. Will you have me back again in your life?”

You hug him tightly again, your nerves tingling with joy. “Oh god, I love you too, Seungkwan-ah. I’ll love you better this time.”

“Shh, darling. Let’s get our little baby to sleep now, hmm?”

You look at him, and you see stars. It’s a miracle, nothing short of that. But he’s yours. Again.

“Shall we change her last name to Boo now?”

“Oh dear. Boo Dahyun?”

“It sounds so cute!”

“Now stop squealing or I can’t open the door otherwise she’ll wake up!”

“Sorry, I’ll be quiet, baby.”

He smiles widely and kisses you again, full on your mouth, “I promise, I’ll never let you go. Nor Dahyunie. I love you so much.”

a/n: read the stories of the other three boys here! would love to hear your feedback!

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ghostybaby000 · 8 months ago

Text

Never Yours | Part 3

Part 1 part 4

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x reader

Summary: He had seen blood hundreds of times before, but never from you. He didn't know what to expect while listening to your cry's on the phone praying you wouldn't loose consciousness. Part one posted above to start this read!

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: 18+, violent theme, weaponry use, blood, symptoms of panic

Tag List: @yyiikes @talooolaaloolla

(not fully edited, apologies for any inconsistencies!)

As quietly as his large build would let him, he crossed the room just to the foot of your bed. He looked to all the machines around you and buttons that were beeping or flashing, it all made him feel more anxious. His eyes landed on your heart monitor where they rested for quite some time, he watched the small screen and lines and noticed his own heart begin to resume a normal rate. A smile came over your face as you saw him and tried to reach an arm out to him as he swiftly moved to the side of the bed. He gently grabbed your hand and placed it down on your stomach, he didn’t want you moving one bit.

You put your other hand over the top of his and stared into his eyes, without words trying to tell him that you were okay. Looking at him you adjust to sit up as you tried to clear your throat.

From behind him, he pulled a visitor’s chair as close as it could be to the bed and sat down intent on staying every second he was allowed. As soon as you had awoken you had asked to see Simon, not giving yourself any time to take in the injuries you had acquired or to think back to what had happened.

Tears began to flood your eyes as you remembered the events that had unfolded and left you starting to shaking. Immediately Simons eyes grew wide as he stood from the chair and cupped your face with his large hand.

‘Dove what is it? Are you in pain?’ The nervousness in his voice told you that he too was scared, confirmed by him calling for a nurse from the bedside- never letting go of your hand. Clearing your throat again you take in a shaky breath and touch Simons arm to get his focus back to you.

A nurse had made their way into the room with a haste but you and Simon both assured her as she made her way back out of the room that everything was okay. He looked back to you and leaned over so you wouldn’t strain your voice.

‘It’s not the pain Simon, I-I just haven’t processed it all yet.’ He let out a small breath and sat down again in the small chair. He brushed his thumb gently over your hand and looked at you with his brows furrowed.

‘So much happened so fast, I don’t think I’m remembering all of the details right.’ He pushed a tear off your cheek with a smile.

‘All that matters is that you’re alright. Whoever did this-‘ He took a pause to again to inhale and then continue.

‘Whoever did this will answer to me, the only thing you need to worry about is getting better.’ Your eyes began to feel heavy with the sedatives you had been given as your muscles relaxed, Simon continued to gently thumb over your hand.

Hours passed as you slept, Simon watching you and every person who entered the room ensuring that nobody was taking you again from him. He listened to the shoes shuffling by in the hallway and watched your chest fall and rise with each breath, grateful that you were able to rest.

His phone pocket began to buzz, he used his unoccupied hand to retrieve it.

‘Price’

He looked to you and slowly began to rise, being as quiet as possible, kissing your hand and gently resting it on your stomach he made his way into the hall to answer the call.

‘What do you have?’ His voice was stern as he spoke, silent to hear any information after he had asked.

‘Well we went back to the neighborhood and found that the neighbors have cameras installed on their doorbells. We were able to see when the attack happened, and we think we know who’s done it as well.’

‘The attack, was this more than one person?’

‘Not that we know of yet, just one made their way into the home. Faking as a inspector of some kind, we can’t see the trucks logo. Y/N opened the door to greet them, and then tried to close it but they…they made their way inside.’ A pause caught in Simons throat thinking again of how small you were, his anger rising.

‘Thank you. Tell me when you have anything else.’

‘Will do.’

As he hung up the phone and made his way back into the room, you stirred slightly. He quickened his pace to be back at your side again pushing your stray hair strands from your face. You drifted back to sleep as he resumed his position in the chair.

He began to think over what Price had said and the details that he could use to his advantage. He thought to you as well, how you must have been so afraid. SO afraid to of being alone and the pain that ensued would surely leave you scarred. He thought for another hour or so, taking a water when the nurse offered it still refusing to leave the room.

You spoke out then to him, the first time he didn’t really understand what you had said, and asked you to repeat.

‘I knew you...’

‘What...Dove do you need something?’ he whispered with his low voice, trying to not startle you if you were still sleeping.

Your eyes slowly opened as you reached this time to cover his hand. You cleared your dry throat as you spoke again, this time more clearly.

‘I knew to call you.’ A smile started over your face as Simon patted your hand assuming the pain medication was talking.

‘What do you mean lovie?’ He grinned back to you, his eyes never loosing track of yours.

You opened your eyes more fully this time, now staring at him. Again the prickle of tears began to sting.

‘I knew that you would be there faster than an ambulance… I knew you would get to me first.’

He stared to you for another moment before allowing his head to fall to the floor. He was feeling his own eyes begin to sting, for he didn’t agree. He should have been the one to take it, he should be the one recovering, he should have never left, or he should have taken you with him in the least.

He looked back up to you and instead pushed the thoughts out of his mind, standing to plant a kiss on your forehead. Your eyes slowly began to close again as he whispered to you,

‘Always.’

Hours passed as the night progressed, Simon now letting his own eyes close but never succumbing to sleep.

Nurses came in and out to check your vitals throughout the evening, eventually the doctor came in and asked to discuss the surgery and the aftercare. You sat a little higher in the bed, wincing as you did so. Simon pushed himself out of his chair to help sit you up properly, being soft with every movement. Once you both had gotten situated, the doctor went over the procedure.

You noticed that as the doctor went on, Simons knee only bounced harder, his hands becoming more sweaty as he wiped them on his pants. He would look over to you and smile, although you could tell it pained him to see you hurting. The doctor finished talking over the surgery and explained that a nurse would be by to check the dressings. Before leaving he pulled Simon into the hallway and gave him more specifications on taking care of you when you returned home, along with some paperwork. He listened very closely, intent on helping you recover as best he could. He shook the doctors hand as he began to leave, but the doctor didn’t let go entirely-looking to Simon.

‘She is very lucky to have you, there’s no telling if she would have made it had you not gotten her here.’

He felt a lump in his throat as he again thanked the doctor and made his way back into your room. A nurse came in not to long afterwards and asked if you’d like to be alone for the dressing change. You told her that you wanted Simon to stay so long as he wanted to, looking over to Simon who gave a small nod of approval.

You see his jaw clench as she slowly pulled down the cover to see your wrapping, he hated himself for not being the one to take the blow. He took your hand in his as she began to undo your dressing, and when she had gotten it entirely off Simon had gone ridged in his chair. The nurse asked if he was alright before moving on and showing Simon how to care for her wound. He watched her very closely, at one point staring her down when she made you groan out. She completed the changing process and Simon was confident he was capable of treating it from home, where he wished to be.

He thought of the scene again that he walked into, remembering that the house had been left like that- and he didn’t want you to go back to see the mess. He watched over your face as you fell again into a sleep, taking the time to notice how delicate your hand was in his.

You awoke again a few hours later to Simon watching something on the small TV, the sound muted. He heard you stir and turned his attention to you seeing that you were awake, and asked if you were alright. You confirmed that you were okay before Simon pondered over the events. He didn’t want to ask you to retell one of the worst moments of your life but felt it would be better him asking than an officer. Food is sent out to the rooms, as Simon sat by watching you slowly eat. Knowing you were safe allowed more room for anger to take hold in his mind, feeling a rage that burned like fire. He wanted so badly to get his hands on whoever had done this to you. He knew that asking you questions would feel horrible, asking you to recreate the moments that had caused you so much pain, but knew that you would have important information that he needed to find the monster.

You sat up fully now and looked at Simon, he was very focused on his thoughts. You run your hand over his arm that was resting on the chair, getting him to look at you with a smile. You take a sip of water to clear your throat as you speak to him.

‘I didn’t know what to do, Simon.’ His brows furrowed and his grip around your hand intensified.

‘I know. You shouldn’t ever have to prepare for something like this...’ His voice getting more broken as he continued to speak, looking to you tears begin to form in his eyes.

‘And I’m sorry that I wasn’t there.’ He looked to you like you had never seen him before. He was speaking words he didn’t want to be true and it pained him to see you in such a state. You took the time now to cut him off before his mind could get to him any further.

‘Simon you were. You got me out of there and are the reason I am able to sit here and talk with you now.’ His head fell to the floor, the thought of you not making it scared him even when you were here in front of him, quite alive. You pulled his head to look at you, tears forming in your own eyes as you went on.

‘Thank you, Simon. Thank you for getting to me.’ It took no more than a few seconds for Simon to be over you, hugging you as lightly as he could without hurting you. His warm lips kissed your forehead for longer than necessary as he pulled back just enough to see your face. The rage in him now was boiling over the edge, he would find whoever did this, and they would pay. He tried to be as patient as possible when speaking to you over the events, he didn’t want to make you feel any pressure or panic when talking to him.

‘I know it may be hard, but do you think you could try and tell me about…what happened?’ He felt the room get colder and your hand stiffen in his. He searched your face for any clue to what you were thinking.

‘I…’ The thoughts played over in your mind going far to quickly to understand them individually. You knew that Simon would do anything and everything to avenge your pains, looking down to your bandaged abdomen, he wouldn’t stop until they had been found.

‘I can try.’ You smiled up to him slowly as he took in a breath and nodded.

Where were you going to begin?

#ghost x reader #books #call of duty fanart #cod fanfic #cod ghost #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #ghost x y/n #simon ghost riley #ghost x you #simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x y/n #simon riley cod #ghost call of duty #ghost simon riley

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niloksilverart · 3 months ago

Text

Another instalment of ‘turning a scene from my own fanfic into a comic!’ I’ve added the snippet of ‘What makes a brother’ it’s based on because I think it helps set the scene

As the battle continued Emmet could feel his Xtrans buzz regularly. Unfortunately, He was busy and Ingo wasn't around to take the call either.

Emmet could feel the train start another circuit. They were the last battling pair still on the train and this passengers Blissey and Whimsicott are holding strong, however, Emmet is starting to see some cracks forming on the trainer themself. It’s been a long night.

Emmet’s ‘customer service smile’ starts to shift into a more ‘self-satisfied smirk’.

Just as Emmet starts to settle in to get more comfortable his earpiece crackles to life. “Okay boss, stop playing with your food, despite what I tell passengers, I actually do have places to be” comes Jackie’s unimpressed voice.

Emmet changes tactics, he was hoping to beat the trainer at their own game but he guesses it’s time to change the game back to house rules and it’s not long before the train pulls back up at the station.

He’s a little smug as he escorts them off with a, "I am Emmet. I won against you. But this is not the end. I am sure you will show up here again. I will wait for it and win against you again. Because I am a Subway Boss. I am Emmet."

Next time, He thinks to himself, Emmet wants to beat them at their own game instead.

Emmet briefly glances down at his Xtrans and notices whoever has been trying to get a hold of him has been verrry persistent. He might even check his messages as soon as he clocks out rather than waiting until he gets home as he planned.

The area code indicates the calls were from Sinnoh, which at least explains the usual timing of the calls. There were many missed calls but only a few voicemails. Emmet strategically picks one of the voicemails to listen to.

“This is Agent Looker of the International police, I’m looking to speak with Subway Master Emmet regarding an important matter pertaining to your brother Subway Master Ingo. When you receive this call please return it on xxx xxx xxx at your earliest convenience as this is a time-sensitive issue”

#pokemon emmet #subway master emmet #fanart #pokemon #fan comic #pokemon fanart #submas #niloksilverart #ao3 fanfic

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universitypenguin · 1 year ago

Note

Hello Alice! Lloyd and princess have been living in my head rent free lately 😍 and it’s got me thinking (please no pressure ever to answer any of my silly little asks!) what do you think princess would do/how would she feel after all this time apart and after everything that’s been going on if she thought Lloyd had sleep with someone else during this time apart?

Thank you for sharing your stories with us! I’m so excited for what’s next to come with these two❤️

Author’s Note: @drabblewithfrannybarnes 🥰

Thank you so much for this lovely ask! I wish I was a faster writer, but alas… that will never be my lot in life. 😭 Instead of doing Kinktober, I’ve been working on improving my short story skills this month, which led to me revising this several times. And by revising I actually mean starting from scratch three times in a row.

I’d challenged myself to keep trying until I had gotten it just right, so it was very satisfying to look at this draft and realize I was finally happy with it. Thank you so much for motivating me to write this, please enjoy! 💙🩵🤍

If He Wanted To, He Would…

“Hey Princess? Can you fix my phone?”

You were stirring honey into your tea, watching the clump slowly dissolve, when Lloyd made his request. He stood by the door wearing athletic shorts and a blue quarter zip, frowning at his phone.

“I thought you were going on a run.”

Lloyd grunted, tapping the screen. The line between his eyebrows appeared.

If this phone issue prevented him from going on his run you were going to lose your mind. Thanks to the stalker situation, your alone time was extremely limited. Only when Lloyd jogged the trail encircling the cabin were you allowed the luxury of complete solitude. He jogged three times a week and each excursion guaranteed you at least an hour of alone time. Without these breaks you’d go insane.

“Why don’t you take my phone instead?”

“My email isn’t synching. I’m trying to make sure the email I sent to Bishop went through.”

“I’ll fix it. Here, you can use my phone.”

Lloyd scowled at the offending device. “I didn’t even mess with it this time. Why is it doing this?”

You held out your phone. “Just take mine.”

“Do you think it’s the wifi?” Lloyd asked.

“You can borrow my AirPods, too,” you said.

“I never run with headphones in and neither should you.”

“That’s something you will never, ever, have to worry about.”

Lloyd smirked as he exchanged phones with you. “Right, I forgot who I was talking to. Good luck with that thing, I’ll see you in an hour or so.”

When he was gone you collapsed on the couch. Finally, the sanctity of solitude. You basked in the silence for a minute before turning your attention to repairing his phone. There were no issues in the app settings or the phone settings, so you tried restarting it. After clearing the cached data, you removed his account and added it again, without success. Then you updated the app and, much to your relief, the email finally synched.

You’d just finished the installation and locked his phone when it buzzed. A text appeared on his lock screen, visible in the preview window.

Don’t worry about Michael. He isn’t the jealous type.

You stared at the message, baffled, like a puppy encountering its reflection for the first time, perplexed by the inexplicable sight. Who was Michael? Perhaps some context would help. You opened the message app and scrolled back through his previous messages with the sender, April Ward.

Their first message was dated about two weeks ago, right after Lloyd had returned from Idaho.

Seeing you on Friday… I love you… don’t worry about Michael… he isn’t the jealous type…

April Ward was his ex-girlfriend. What had happened between them in Idaho?

You hadn’t questioned the limited contact you’d had with him at the time, but now it felt like a huge red flag. Your stomach twisted into knots.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Twenty-five minutes had passed. Lloyd would be home soon and you still didn’t know what you were going to say. Your thoughts were chaotic. You felt naive, foolish, and gullible.

You had believed he was grieving and settling his father’s affairs. You had assumed he was too busy to call you or that his phone was out of service range. You were such a sucker. Hurt and anger vied for dominance inside of you, but neither gained enough ground to claim victory. The emotions were deadlocked and trapped in the middle of them, all you felt was numb.

Distantly, you recognized that you were in shock. Of course you were in shock. It was a shocking development. This wasn’t the Lloyd you knew. He’d never let you down before. In spite of his rough edges, he was always honest with you, even when it came to difficult topics; especially when it came to difficult topics.

How had he become this person, someone capable of such an ugly betrayal? When had your best friend turned into your enemy?

You didn’t hear the creak of the door’s hinges, but at Lloyd’s voice, your head snapped up. Your lip curled into a snarl.

Lloyd stopped short. “Princess? What’s wrong?”

“Who’s April Ward?”

His nostrils flared as he inhaled through his nose.

“She’s a veterinarian who treated a sick calf for me a few weeks ago. Why?”

“Liar. April is your ex, I read your texts.”

“Princess, it’s not what you think-”

You hissed. “Stop! Stop lying to me! You cheated, didn’t you?! Just admit it!”

“I’m not lying!”

Without thinking, you flung the phone at him. Lloyd ducked and it hit the wall, then clattered to the floor.

“Calm down!” Lloyd barked.

“No! Tell me what happened!”

“It wasn’t on purpose-”

“You slept with her by accident?! Come on!”

“I didn’t cheat, Princess! Listen to me! I didn’t intend to see April. There was a sick calf, so I called the vet, who turned out to be my highschool girlfriend.”

“And then you slept with her.”

Lloyd snarled. “I didn’t sleep with her.”

“I don’t believe you!”

“I’m telling you the truth!”

Your chin lifted. “She cares about you.”

“We dated in highschool, okay? That’s all. For the record, the last time I slept with her, you weren’t even alive!”

“Are you insulting my age, or yours?”

Lloyd threw his hands up. “Neither. Forget I said that. Here’s what happened on Friday: I called for a vet and April showed up. She treated the calf, we had a drink in the kitchen and talked for a few hours. When we finished talking she went home.”

“What are you leaving out of this story?”

“Nothing!”

“Did you have sex in the kitchen?”

“There was no sexual contact, there was barely even physical contact!”

You zeroed in on his last point. “Ha! So you did something with her, didn’t you?!”

“There was a kitchen table between us for 90% of the evening. She reached across it and touched my hand while we were talking. Later, I hugged her goodbye. That was the extent of our physical contact.”

His delivery was fluid. The words were crisp and his tone of voice was even. That should have comforted you. Instead, it made you even more suspicious.

“Princess, I can only tell you this in so many ways: nothing happened. Believing it is up to you.”

“If nothing happened, then why didn’t you tell me that you’d seen her?”

“I don’t like talking about that period of my life… and… maybe because I didn’t know how to approach the subject.”

You stared at Lloyd, torn between doubt and trust.

He sighed. “I know it looks bad. If our roles were reversed, I’d react the same way, but I swear it was nothing more than old friends catching up.”

“Fine. I believe you.”

He looked relieved for a split second before you continued.

“But keeping this from me was a betrayal in itself.”

“I’m sorry,” Lloyd said.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You were still curled up in the rocking chair on the porch when dusk faded into night. As a concession to the dropping temperature, you’d draped a blanket around your shoulders. The nights were getting colder as autumn approached.

If he wanted to, he would. If he wanted to, he could.

You’d always considered Lloyd to be honest, at least with you, before today. Now you wondered about the veracity of that assumption. As you examined your reasoning, the uncomfortable truth crystallized. Lloyd was capable of cheating on you. He was certainly sneaky enough. Keeping secrets and guarding his emotions were Lloyd’s greatest strengths. He was a master in the art of lying. Half-truths, omissions, fabrications, he could do it all and conventional ethics didn’t mean much to him. He lied as easily as other people breathed - those were the cold, hard facts.

Reality slapped you in the face, unraveling the sense of trust you’d previously had in Lloyd. In an abstract way, you’d always known he was ruthless, but now you appreciated how easily he could rip your heart out if he wanted to. Him wanting to wasn’t even a requirement, all it would take was a moment of carelessness.

You didn’t know what you were feeling more: hurt, anger, or fear. Each emotion claimed a part of your heart, splitting it into three equal pieces. The feelings swirled, a vortex of negative thoughts that sucked you into a whirlpool of despair. Your mood dropped as quickly as the temperatures. Soon, chilly air nipped at your nose and ears. You drew the blanket tighter in an effort to conserve warmth.

The door creaked and you heard Lloyd’s footsteps approaching, but you didn’t acknowledge him.

“It’s getting cold, Princess. You need to come inside.”

You ignored him.

“Princess…”

You burrowed into the blanket, silently declaring your intent to remain where you were.

Lloyd sighed. “I don’t know what to say, other than I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Too late,” you muttered.

“I can’t change the past, but I can give you access to my phone if you want. Is that a reasonable compromise?”

You turned to him, frowning.

“The problem isn’t access, Lloyd. I have that already. The problem is that I don’t want to keep you on a leash, I just want to trust you. Think about it from my point of view - if I’m going to have a meltdown every time one of your exes shows up, I’m in for a bad time.”

“April is my only ex-girlfriend,” Lloyd said.

“So, we’re back to lying, are we? I’m trying to meet you halfway, but if you keep-”

“She is, damn it! I never wanted a relationship before. You know I’m telling the truth, Princess. You were my closest friend for the past three years. When was my last relationship?”

Abruptly, the weight of evidence tilted in his favor. Your thrumming pulse slowed to a steady beat. Lloyd moved closer.

“Come on, Princess, you’re freezing. Let’s go inside.”

You shook your head. “I want to believe you, but I know how easily you can bend the truth.”

“Actions speak louder than words,” Lloyd countered. “I’ve already synced my messaging app to your personal laptop and shared my location with you. If you let me, I’ll prove that you can trust me.”

He extended his hand and you hesitated, but took it and let him pull you to your feet. You let him lead you inside to the sofa, where he laid a throw blanket over your legs.

“You haven’t said whether you’ll give me a second chance,” he said.

You twisted your hands in your lap.

“I know that I misinterpreted your messages to April. That said, I’m not letting you off the hook for withholding information that would’ve put them in context. The root of the issue is that if you decided to cheat on me, I probably wouldn’t notice. You’re sly enough to get away with almost anything, if you set your mind to it.”

“Alright, but let’s take another factor into consideration,” Lloyd said. “The pool of women who actually want to sleep with me after they realize I’m an asshole is smaller than you think.”

“Oh, please. Give me a break, women drool over your ass every day.”

“Before they talk to me. Now, if we consider the pool of men who want to sleep with you… it’s large to begin with and once they get to know you, they’re even more interested.”

You snorted. “Should I sync my messaging app to your laptop?”

“No need, I already know your passwords. Are we good?”

“We’re not bad. I wouldn’t go as far as calling us ‘good,’ though.”

Lloyd nuzzled your temple. “I was telling the truth about April being my only ex-girlfriend.”

“It’s hard to believe, but… it tracks. I know you’re not used to explaining yourself, but if this arrangement between us is going to work, you need to.”

He relaxed. “I can do that.”

You snuggled into his chest, basking in the warmth you found there. His broad palm stroked up and down your spine and within a few minutes you were nodding off.

“How many ex-boyfriends do you have?” Lloyd asked.

Your eyes flew open. “Um… why?

“I just want to know how worried I should be.”

“You don’t need to be worried.”

“That’s not an answer, Princess.”

You licked your lips. “How far back do you want to go? Kindergarten? Middle-school?”

Lloyd scowled. “Kindergarten? How many boys are we talking about here?”

“I…” you broke off. “Hold up, how did we get on this topic?”

“That’s not important,” Lloyd said. “How many boys have you dated?”

You sat up. “That isn’t what you asked me. You wanted to know how many ex-boyfriends I had, not how many boys I’ve dated. Those are two different topics.”

His lips compressed. “Fine, then. How many boys have you dated?”

“I guess about…ugh…” You covered your face, groaning. “Do we have to do this? Trust me, you’re better off not knowing. My dating history is cringe-worthy.”

“I want a number, Princess.”

You sucked in a breath through your teeth. “I might need some scratch paper…”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The End.

I hope you enjoyed it! Reblogs, likes, and comments are all appreciated and welcomed!

Masterlist

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kbagraces · 11 months ago

Text

Curious Time - Lando Norris

Lando Norris x Singer!reader

Multiple part series where their friendship was easy, their feelings were confusing and the distance was the hardest <3

(3rd person perspective)

PART 2 -

DON’T TELL ‘EM

“Don’t you worry ‘bout him, I gon’ work it out”

Restraunts turned to bars and bars meant drinks upon drinks.

Y/n enjoys a glass or two, she enjoyed the buzz and the heightened confidence. But girls night was never just one or two. Pietra was the only taken girl of the group which also meant men. The other girls loved the attention, as did y/n from afar but as soon as someone would approach she would shut them down.

She wasn't sure what it was in her that made her do this. She would love a boyfriend and she was extremely lonely at times. Maybe it was the gravity of her job never knowing where she would be. She always put her career first. She got this from her mother watching her struggle day and night as a single parent watching her work multiple jobs just to keep a roof over her head. This work ethic was installed in y/n, and once she started earning it was addicting. There was nothing she enjoying more than being able to repay her mum for the hard work, and to do that work came first.

It wasn't until Pietra and her became closer she really began to live life. She was so grateful for that as before her she never really felt able to have fun.

Pietras friend, Tilde squeals as she hurries over, throwing her arms around her friends shoulders. "There's someone who wants to meet you!" Grabbing her arm by force pulling her across the dance floor.

She hold her drink out as a cosmo cocktail coloured dress would simply ruin her night. She's pulled towards P and a couple guys who look not at all familiar but Pietra seemed comfortable so she felt somewhat more relaxed.

Pietra yells over the noise "These are some guys that raced with Max back in the day! Guys this is y/n” They all chorus ‘hello’.

Tilde pulls you across her placing you next to the tallest boy in the group, she whispers in your ear. "He's interested”

She's flattered but the blonde male is just not her type. She appreciates his rugby build and his slicked back blonde hair, but he wouldn't have her falling to her knees. Although her starring may have been misperceived by the man. As he asks her, "y/n would you like another drink?"

She almost protests but it would seem unusual as her glass was now empty. "Sure." She smiles, following him back through the crowd. It's a free drink after all.

He orders her a cosmo and himself some whiskey mix, she wasn't all that focused nor that interested.

"So y/n/n," the nickname catches her attention only Lando calls her that, “what do you do?" He questions, he had no ill intent but she hated those who nicknamed her without the right.

"Um it's y/n. I'm a writer of sorts." She always feels uncomfortable telling her true profession she's never sure if people's intentions if they know who she is or not.

"Not a nickname girl, I apologise. What are you doing in Monaco do you live here? Maybe we could hang out sometime if you do?"

Very forward, she thinks. "I don't live here I'm visiting a friend before he's off travelling again. I won't be here long enough to meet up I'm sorry." A polite rejection, which he takes well luckily.

"Absolutely fine. Maybe I could get your number anyway? Just incase you're ever back not visiting your friend?" He's optimistic a smile adorning his face.

Ive kicked him down a few times now, so she gives him her phone, looking across the floor to see Pietra looking for her.

'Peter' followed by the muscle emojis. She laughs in her head, humble she thinks.

"Well Peter, it was nice meeting you. I think I best get my friend home now." She smiles as P has staggered towards her yelling loving words in her ears. Y/n is the worlds bestest friend, apparently.

Please pick me up. P is off her face, could we stop at the hotel? No Uber will take her in this state xxxxxx

I'll need an address to do that.

*Location sent*

On my way, 10 minutes maximum.

Lando could tell she was intoxicated by the influx of kisses at the end of her messages. He hoped not too much that she could still help him get Pietra into the car.

He pulled up outside the bar, P hung over y/n’s shoulder both of their heels laced over her fingers. Both girls wobbling at the weight of each other.

"Y/n/n can you walk?" He questions walking over to the girls.

Her eyebrows raise, "of course I can walk, been walking for 23 years." She slurs slightly, that final cosmo catching up to her.

"You know what I mean." He slides an arm under Pietra, the evidently more intoxicated of the two, y/n stumbling ever so slightly behind.

Pietra placed in the back a bag over her lap just in case. Y/n slides into the front, Lando leaves no time wasted as he sets off.

"Message Max, tell him we'll be 15, in the nicest way possible i can't hang around I've got an early morning." Lando states, clearly tired, rubbing his eyes as they reach traffic lights.

Y/n feels guilty forcing him out of bed at this hour, but even if she cancelled her lift he'd still turn up before any Uber did. She grabs the charger before messaging Max her phone automatically connecting to the screen play.

As she's messaging him, a ding chimes through the car.

Peter 💪🏽💪🏽

Y/n, lovely to meet you let me know when you're back in Monaco without your friend.

She knows he's read it, he doesn't say anything. His face unreadable.

"I've messaged Max, he's waiting outside"

They pull up outside the hotel, giggling softly in her seat watching her friend whine and complain to him instead of them. As Max and Pietra walk away Lando shouts “good luck!” out the car window before pulling away.

The air is strange in the car, not awkward, just not them. Y/n decides this is the best time to shuffle her party playlist, "Dont tell 'em' by Jeremiah blast through the sound system.

"Y/n," Lando questions, "Seriously?" His hand darting forward to turn it down. She grabs his ring clad hand pulling it into her using it as a microphone. A small smile creeps onto his face as he shakes his head.

"For a good singer your talent is really shining through right now." He smirks as she yells the lyrics into his hand. The song draws to and end in perfect timing as Lando backs into the garage.

He follows a stumbling y/n up the stairs, to which she makes a b-line for his bedroom instead of the spare room she had made her own. She sits on the end of the bed a pout on her face as lando hasn't yet joined her.

He comes in with water and paracetamol, to which she'll probably need in the morning. "Staying in here tonight then?" He questions all ready knowing the answer. He slips off the t shirt he's wearing throwing it in her lap before she even asks.

She slips off her dress, forgetting his in the room and asking him to turn around like she usually does. He looks away quickly, not before catching a glimpse of her nearly bare body.

Her legs the only thing on show now as she's slipped into his tee. She pads on to his en-suite where a small draw of her things resides, not being motivated or sober enough for her usual routine, she opts for make up wipes, to which her skin won't thank her for in the morning.

Lando already in bed curled up on his side, pats the space next to him. She instantly takes little spoon position. They don't fall asleep together often, another unspoken boundary between the two, but when they do, God did they fit together perfectly.

She inhales, partially out of contentment partially due to Lando's scent lingering on the t shirt she's sporting.

It's silent between the two, their breathing both becoming more and more shallow as they drift off. Y/n almost fully asleep now head Lando clear his throat, "Who is Peter?" He questions quietly, she almost wasn't sure she heard him right. To which she drunkenly replies,

"He's not you."

Masterlist

#lando norris x reader #lando norris #ln4 #f1

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cliff-and-the-kid · 3 months ago

Text

Distraction Prelude

(So I wrote Distraction for a whumptober prompt, with Cliffjumper stressing about Bumblebee immediately post-Tyger Pax, and thanks to @alacrityabound I'm now working on the actual 'Cliff finds Bee' extra angsty bit. And in the spirit of giving or whatever, here! Have a first installment while I jot down the rest!)

The battlefield’s gone quiet.

Not that it was technically a battle-field as such - mostly a bunch of individual Autobots scattered across the city, making noise, then dropping and driving like Pit while the Decepticons swatted back. Mostly small bursts of blasterfire, a few exploding rockets, up until the Cons flew a final strafing run over the whole of Tyger Pax and dropped whatever ordinance they didn’t want to bother carrying back to Kaon.

That’s over and done with. A few chemical fires are still burning, but the rubble’s settled, smoke’s mostly cleared, and pockets of silence can be found here and there.

Cliffjumper creeps from one to another, sensor suite stretched as far as he can manage.

He’s, technically, not supposed to still be out here. Everyone who participated in the shout-and-run distractions is slated for a full day cycle of off-shift recovery time; at least those who aren’t stuck on berthrest from repairs. Or dead. But there was a name missing from the list of known survivors and casualties, and Cliff isn’t inclined to leave Tyger Pax until he finds the bot who goes with that name.

No matter how much his comm line buzzes with blocked, incoming transmissions.

Scowling, and internally grumbling, Cliffjumper nonetheless keeps his steps silent as he eases around another wrecked tower, pausing in its shadow to peer across an open area. There’s a hole at the other end; something that might have started as an impact crater, before getting dug deeper. Trails of spilled energon lead up to the edges, and it doesn’t take a genius to guess there’s a bunch of greyed-out frames heaped at the bottom.

Sharp static spits across his comm, and a voice makes it through Cliff’s block. ::Cliffjumper! Frag it, Cliff, answer me!::

A soft sigh seeps out of his vents. “Little busy, Splits.”

::You’re not supposed to be:: his boss groans, quieter after getting a response. ::For Cybertron’s sake, Cliff, get back to the staging ground, we’re pulling out soon!::

“I’ll catch up,” he mutters back, tapping the side of his audial to try and stop the faint tink-tink noise that’s started. “Or I’ll head to that medical outpost, hitch a ride with them tomorrow.”

Splitpath groans again. ::Cliffjumper...::

“Yeah, you don’t gotta say it, the chances aren’t great.” But if Cliff leaves without doing a full sweep, then the chances become zero, and that is not acceptable. He intends to add more, but pauses to scowl and rub at both audials. The tinking’s getting worse.

...the tinking isn’t coming from his audio systems.

::I can’t sign off on this:: Splitpath warns him. ::Which means I can’t send anyone out to save your aft if you get in trouble::

“I won’t,” Cliffjumper answers faintly, attention leaving the conversation behind as he scans the area again. Nothing stands out, nothing draws attention. His optics, reluctantly, drag towards the open pit. “Gotta go. I’ll check in later.”

::You’d better-!::

He disconnects before his boss can finish, easing over to a line of smashed rubble. There’s no cover all the way to the hole, but he makes use of drifting cloud cover as much as possible. Side-stepping a couple of smeared energon trails, Cliffjumper makes it all the way to the edge of the sharp drop without getting spotted or shot by any lingering Cons, so that’s a plus.

Even fully expecting the sight below, though, he still nearly purges his tanks.

They’re just... So wrecked. Autobot frames torn apart, expressions caught in agony at the moment of death. Some of the dark frames are intact, but stripped of armor, full of deep punctures and marred by jagged wounds. The source of the tink-tink is revealed, too, which just makes Cliff feel even worse. One of the last frames dropped in lies half atop another, doorwings disconnected from their joints and hanging by wires alone to drape and dangle - even as he watches, one of them sways and taps against an arm sticking up from the pile below. Tink-tink.

Cliffjumper isn’t a newspark or a freshpaint by any means, he’s seen plenty of awful things in this war and then some. But the heap of deceased and mutilated scouts, none of them killed cleanly, let alone quickly, it just- it’s awful in a way few things can match. Especially that frame on top, with doorwings the same shape-

The same shape as-

As-

...no.

Cliffjumper doesn’t notice his hydraulics losing pressure. Doesn’t realize he’s dropped to his knees, dangerously close to toppling over the pit’s edge. His focus lies squarely on that darkened frame, armor almost completely stripped away, what little remained burned and flayed and devoid of color in the shadows- but the doorwings, the slagged wheels, that helm shape-!

“Bee.”

#mun writes #backstory time #ARE YOU READY FOR SOME FEELS TONIGHT

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missamyrisa2 · 10 months ago

Note

A torture room for Miss Amy called the Tapping Room, and the ladies there tease and torture miss Amy with all the different ways to make those tap sounds that tickle Amy's brain and ears

okayyyyy seriousssslyyy you guyyyyyyssss~!! mmmmh this isn't fairrrrr!!

The doors slide open with, what else~ a tap. Their heels click across the tile floor and I'm already exploding with blush and struggles in the padded restraints. I try to calm my struggles as the tiny clappers on each wrist and ankle restraint can be set off by the most dramatic reactions in my body. The ladies are nonchalant as usual, decked out in the business-like attire of white skirts and black blazers. Every step of theirs, every motion is a tease. They wear clicking bracelets on their wrists. Their multi-tiered metal necklaces glint in the overhead lights with heart and star charms, tapping against one another.

But I can barely protest against their teasing outfits when one of them unceremoniously picks up a tuning fork and smacks it against the metal table next to my head. I scream with a giggle as the sound twirls into my ears sending tickly sensation across my face and ricocheting down my body. And then I'm gasping even more as she clicks her loud pen right by the same ear before holding the clipboard close to me and scratching in notes. I'm already whimpering, already begging for them to stop. She looks down with a glance of contempt and a slight smirk before taking her pen to idly start tapping it across her necklace.

My first tapper steps back and immediately the next is there, an especially curvy tapper wearing a big waistbelt on her skirt with a shiny silver buckle. Unlike the first tapper she can't contain her smirk and is beaming at me as her nails wiggle and float towards that metal. I'm puling and bucking, setting off clappers but I don't care ~ I plead and squeal through it begging her not to do it. But she pays me no heed and starts tapping pretending as if it were just an idle activity, tapping rapidly away at her belt buckle with those clicky nails.

The tickles explode across my tummy, bouncing and trembling unable to contain my reactions. They haven't even touched directly and I'm a weak begging mess on the table. But the touches do indeed start~ another tapper has entered the room and makes no hesitation to head right for my flower belt buckle, which has been bobbing and bouncing on my midsection this entire time. She grasps my hip with a smile and starts testing each petal. My screams and giggles echo across the chamber. And get higher pitched when I realize they've installed new tools near the ceiling, little spinning clappers pinging metal on metal activated by the high volume of sounds.

Worse still, my tiny shorts can never hope to compare what the sounds and indirect tickles are doing to my princess part. The swell grows to their satisfaction and then I'm whimpering all over again as I see the ladies equip themselves with the special tuning forks. Etched with feathers, curved to match a particular surface, and absolutely deadly in their hands~ I shake my head weakly, wearily as they move in and one my one begin tapping their tools on my flower to set them off. I beg nonsense ~ mercy is impossible but maybe the right amount of words will slow them down. No such luck, the pinging has me arched and trying to bite my arm for support ~ the flower visibly vibrates, taking every tap on the petals.

But even that is soon forgotten as they begin applying their buzzing forks to my feet. They press the cold metal to the gap under my toes, perfectly fitting into the curves and it's like a thousand trembling fingers settling into my death spot. The taps are all around, the tickles are hotwiring my body in record time. My shorts bounce and quake ~ the ladies show no mercy, following every twitch and twist keeping their forks against my feet as I yelp and mewl desperately ~ occasionally tapping my flower or their own metal accessories to reapply the buzz. With a raising squeal and breathless giggling gasp, I can take no more and my princess part releases its tension, but not before the curvy one swiftly moves up and adds the extra agony by first gently tracing her nails across my swollen spot in the shorts to find my absolute death zone ~ and then taking the fork, tapping her buckle and holding it right to that spot to tingle and tease every step of my ticklegasm~ holding it snug as the tiny little wet spot grows~<3

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ageofhearingloss · 2 years ago

Text

Pick Yourself Up Pt. 1 | Jake Kiszka

a/n: fiction! this is FICTION! y’all hear me? FICTION FICTION FICTION! none of it’s real! i know y'all know this but just in case anybody gets it twisted🤨i’m just writing what is hammering around in my brain (and also projecting cause that's how i write!)

that being said, welcome to the next installment of Angst with Iz. buckle up, and my apologies in advance heh. no y/n in this chapter (she'll be here soon, don't worry), just jakey and the boys

summary: after years of trying to make his dream of being a musician a reality, jake continues to fall short. on the brink of giving up, can his passion alone keep him afloat, or will he need help from others?

warnings: language, angst, mild violence (some shoving but no blood or injury), alcohol consumption, themes of depression

word count: ~4.7k

Is this really what my life is supposed to be? Am I fated to continue this way?

He pulled out his phone as he exited through the backdoor of the bar, seeing no texts, no calls. Reading 1:11am. The sigh he let out was one that came from deep within his chest, one that was filled with despair, regret, hopelessness. He strolled towards his barely-functioning car, shoving his phone back in his pocket in exchange for his keys, clutching his guitar case in his other hand. Throwing his trunk open, he tossed his guitar inside with a tad of aggression, frustration running through his system from the crown of his head to the tips of his toes.

The interior of the car was cold and silent, two things he was immensely grateful for as he rested his forehead against the leather steering wheel. He clenched his eyes shut, trying to settle his emotions with a couple breaths even though he was trembling, causing his exhales to come out shaky. He was pulled from his forced meditative state by the buzzing of his phone, but he couldn’t bring himself to answer. Only after three missed calls did he dig his phone out when it began to ring once again, not lifting his head as he brought his phone to his ear.

“What.”

“Jake, buddy, how’d the gig go?” Danny knew the answer already just based on Jake’s lack of greeting, but he figured he’d ask anyway.

Jake could hear music and boisterous laughter in the background of wherever Danny was calling him from, and for whatever reason, it pissed him off further. He wanted to be alone, to sulk in his anger and not be reminded of the joy he could be having.

“It went just how you think it went.” He had no reason to be short with his brother; Danny always called to check in with him out of the kindness of his heart, but these days it was starting to feel like pity.

“I’m sorry man,” he detected a bit of defensiveness in Danny’s tone, “maybe a drink would help. Why don’t you meet me and your brothers at-”

“Daniel,” he sighed, trying hard to right his attitude and not snap at the man offering him a lifeline. “I just need to go home. Maybe I’ll see you later this week.”

“Okay, I just think-”

“I’ll see you later, bro,” and disconnected the line. In truth, he didn’t want to see his brothers for a long time. He did not want them to see his failure, to observe the way he was living or how he carried himself these days. The gig he had that night hadn’t been horrible, but it was not great either. Hardly anyone was in attendance besides the old boozers who drank themselves stupid every night. There had been no money to be made, the bar owner patting him on the back sympathetically after continuously calling him ‘Jack’.

Although he wasn’t in it for the money or the fame, he would like to be able to pay his rent and afford some groceries. Growing up, he’s always been told he was destined for greatness, and that success would come easily to him and his guitar because of how hardworking he was. But boy, were his family and friends wrong about that. He was desperate to keep his career hidden, to conceal his failure and feelings towards such.

Jake drove home in silence, knuckles sheet white as he gripped the wheel. He let the sound of the road beneath him lull his thoughts, focusing on the dotted yellow line and streetlamps passing by. He wasn’t aware that he had been holding back tears until he was storming up the stairs to his studio apartment, throat bobbing as he slammed the door behind him, his vision blurry. Only once safely inside did he allow himself to feel the full range of his emotions.

Is this really how I’m expected to carry on?

He tossed his guitar down on the couch and stomped into the kitchen, eyes hot with searing tears as he blindly grabbed a glass and a bottle of whiskey that he had left out on the counter for easy access. Admittedly, he felt a little childish for letting his emotions run out of control, but if he was being honest, he was teetering over the edge of giving up. Music was his whole world; he loved nothing more than his guitar, and he was determined to move to this city to turn his passion into a career. Little did he know that it would feel like throwing paint at a wall, watching defeatedly how absolutely nothing stuck.

He tried to quell the tiny spot in the back of his brain that was jealous of his brothers. They all were heavy hitters in their respective industries: Josh was an Oscar nominated director, Sam owned his own restaurant, and Danny was constantly traveling around as a professional golfer. They had protested Jake’s idea of giving up and trying to find something else to do, all giving example after example as to why he should stick with it just a little bit longer. They assured him his ‘big break’ was just around the corner, but they’d been saying that for five years now.

Fuck them.

He threw back his glass, gladly welcoming the burn of amber liquid down his throat. He was mildly shocked that he didn’t crack the glass when he slammed it back down on the counter, knowing his anger was getting the better of him. Bracing his calloused hands on the cool marble, he let his head finally fall to his chest, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt the tears fall freely, noting that his muscles were trembling. How long had he been shaking?

Jake…. Jake!

He had gotten used to the ringing in his ears, only intensified when his anger peaked, which was more frequent than not these days. He clenched his eyes tighter still as he balled his fingers into two fists.

“Jake! Dude, hello?”

A hand on his shoulder startled him, jumping slightly before whipping around to see who could be intruding in his home, especially considering what time it was.

“Shit, relax!” A wide-eyed Josh stood behind him in the kitchen, watching his twin with concern written all over his face. Jake braced himself on the counter again, this time facing his brother, one hand grabbed at his chest and the other busied itself with trying to wipe the tears that he couldn’t stop. Only until he glanced at Josh did he notice two more bodies in his presence, Sam and Danny standing in the doorway.

Josh had backed away from him, inquisitively studying Jake’s face, taking inventory of the puffy eyes, runny nose, and overall disheveled look his brother now donned. The two twins stared at each other, discussing silently in their twin-talk before Jake finally broke the silence, having mustered up a facade to try to fool the others that he was, in fact, much more collected than he truly was.

“What are you guys doing here? It’s late, go home.” His voice came out gravelly and watery, and he prayed that no one would comment on it.

“Jake,” Sam called over Josh’s shoulder, “it’s been weeks since we’ve seen you. Where the hell have you been?”

His tone wasn’t pushy like the classic, usual cadence of his voice, but rather laced with the same concern that was evident on Josh’s face. Jake clenched his jaw, his lips tightening into a thin line. Had it really been that long since he’d seen his brothers? He chewed the inside of his cheek as he glanced from Josh to Sam and finally Danny, not being able to look at the latter for too long knowing how he had just hung up on him not even an hour prior. Danny saw the guilt flash through Jake’s eyes for a millisecond before Jake dropped his chin to his chest, relinquishing contact.

“Just… listen, I’ve been around, okay?” He offered quietly, still not having the courage to brave his brothers. “Sorry, but you guys should leave. Please.” And with that, Jake turned back to face the counter, pouring himself another glass of whiskey in hopes that his point would be made. He couldn’t tell his brothers what was going on, not yet, for that meant that he would have to fully admit it to himself, too.

Another hand from Josh on his shoulder pulled him back around.

“Don’t fucking give me that bullshit, Jake. You’ve been missing in action for weeks, hardly return our calls, we don’t know where the fuck you are and you’re just kicking us out?” He spat at his twin, ever frustrated for continuously reaching out his hand only to have Jake swat it away.

He began shaking Jake by both his shoulders, “Look at me, come on, look at me.”

Jake had already begun to dissociate; he was anywhere but in the kitchen with his brothers. His head felt miles away, thoughts buzzing in his ears making it nearly impossible to make out what Josh was saying to him let alone the sensation of his hands gripping his shoulders for dear life.

“We’re worried about you.”

Those four words brought him back to reality.

Jake’s head snapped up, burning his eyes into the culprit of those words. Danny had made his way into the kitchen just a few paces behind Josh, but halted in his tracks as the words tumbled from his mouth. Jake’s lips peeled back to reveal an anger-ridden snarl, already cursing his brother for even thinking those words.

“Don’t you dare say that to me, Daniel,” he pushed past Josh easily and made his way to stand in front of the man who still towered over him, laying a hand flat on his chest and shoving Danny back a couple of feet.

“You fucking morons,” another shove, “come into my place and act like this is some sort of intervention?” He was walking Danny back into a wall, pushing him hard enough to get the man to move but not strong enough to inflict real harm.

Danny put up no fight; for whatever reason, he knew Jake needed this. He stood with his hands at his sides, a somber look on his face as his eyes burned down into his older brother. He kept silent, knowing that any further words from him would ignite Jake’s anger tenfold.

Josh was glued to his spot by the counter, watching his twin’s assault on their friend, jaw hanging slack. He couldn’t believe his eyes. He was used to Jake picking fights with him, even occasionally brawling with their baby brother, but Jake adored Danny. Anything Danny said, Jake listened, no questions asked. He’d never heard Jake speak such foul words to the gentle giant let alone lay a finger on him.

It was Sam who finally broke through, jumping Josh out of his trance, running into the kitchen.

“Jake, Jesus Christ, stop!” Sam shouted, holding his older brother back from his charge on Danny, but to little avail. He forcefully shrugged Sam off, giving one more push to Danny as his voice rose louder, “I’m not your fucking charity case.”

Sam lunged for Jake again, grabbing him with more force than the previous time, holding Jake back as his breathing increased, anger not only present in his features, but palpable in the heavy air of the apartment. Sam, much taller than Jake and with longer arms, spun his brother around to face him, and in a gesture that shocked Josh and Danny, pulled Jake into his arms, holding him in a tight hug.

Jake’s chest was still heaving but his eyes were blown wide, resting his chin on Sam’s shoulder and making brief eye contact with Josh who stood behind their baby brother. He didn’t fight the embrace; he couldn’t remember the last time somebody had held him. It felt nice, but he couldn’t bring himself to reciprocate the hug, leaving his arms at his sides as he tried to quell his anger. His eyes slipped shut, not bearing to look at Josh in his dimly lit kitchen; when he closed his eyes, all he saw was red. His head was pounding and his ears resumed their ringing, and only when Sam's hold on him grew tighter did Jake realize he was trembling once again.

His brother's voice cut through, barely above a whisper in hopes that Josh and Danny wouldn’t hear.

“Hey Jake?”

Jake kept silent, not confirming that he heard Sam but listening all the same. Sam knew he wouldn’t answer, but he continued on.

“Be the hero you’ve always been to me.”

Jake’s breath caught in his chest as he heard those words. Sam hadn’t told him that he was his hero since they were kids; he never took it to heart, always thought his little brother was just kidding around. But now, feeling like a complete failure, like he’s let his entire family down, he needed to hear something that would give him an ounce of hope. They still believed in him, after all this time of running into wall after wall.

Jake let his tears fall silently behind his closed eyes and stream down his cheeks, knowing that Josh would be able to see them but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Only when Sam felt his brothers breathing even out did he let him go, giving him one more squeeze on his shoulders before retreating next to Danny.

Jake wiped his chin on the back of his hand as he stood in the middle of the kitchen, not exactly knowing what to say. He knew he needed to apologize to Danny for two things he had done that night, but the guilt and his own pride halted him from doing so. He knew that he should thank his brothers for coming to his rescue, but again found himself biting his tongue. Instead, he glanced between all three of them, their eyes expecting and patiently waiting for what he would say.

“I think you guys should go.”

Idiot, stop pushing them away.

“We can stay, maybe order a pizza from one of those shitty 24 hour places-” Sam pleaded, even though he knew Jake was stubborn and wouldn’t change his mind.

“No, it’s late. Please, I really need to be alone.”

He caught Danny’s eyes as he said those words, seeing how Danny’s face fell even more. Jake knew he was disappointing him a little more each day, and he quickly averted his gaze, not being able to bear the sentiment that was easily readable on Danny’s face.

The three of them knew it was a losing battle, so they turned to leave, Danny leading the way with a reluctant Sam on his heels. Josh lingered, pressing a hand to Jake’s back as they stared at each other once more, the words Jake wanted to say radiating off him for Josh to gather. Josh gave his twin a slight nod before withdrawing his hand, joining the others by the front door.

Danny pulled the door open, glancing over his shoulder to Jake who was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, watching his brothers leave. With a faint smile, he turned back forward, walking into the hallway and down the stairs of the apartment complex. Sam followed, throwing him a reluctant “Bye, Jake,” and finally Josh, who didn’t speak another word before he shut the door behind them.

Jake listened to them make their descent, the faint slamming of the heavy front door of the complex evidence enough that his brothers were officially gone. He sauntered over to the door, deadbolting it before returning to the kitchen. He grabbed the neck of the whiskey bottle off the counter and slid down to sit on the floor, his back up against the cabinets as he brought his knees to his chest, the bottle sitting beside him.

He let out a sigh, resting his head in his palms as his tears began to flow again.

“Why do I keep doing that?” he whispered only to himself, feeling even more hopeless than he had previously that night. Why was he being such an asshole? These were his brothers, his best friends, and he knew that they were genuinely worried about him. Hell, if any of them were acting like how he was, he’d be incredibly concerned, too. So why couldn’t he let them in? They so clearly wanted to help, so why not let them?

He took a long pull from the glass bottle, keeping his head resting against the cabinet as he stared up at the hanging light that only had one of three functioning bulbs in it.

You’re such a piece of shit that you can’t even change the lightbulbs.

He smirked to himself before bringing the bottle to his lips again, thinking about the possible lightbulb joke he could make.

How long had he been sitting on the kitchen floor, he wasn't sure; the only marker of passing time was the now empty bottle of whiskey. He groaned, shifting himself to stand and only when he steadied himself with his hands on the counter did he realize that he was truly drunk. He wrenched his head to look at the clock on the wall: 3:10am. Rubbing his temples, he left the glass bottle on the floor, stumbling out of the kitchen after flicking the light off, and trudging to his bedroom. He couldn’t be bothered with washing up, only knowing that his bed was calling him and he had to sleep before the room began spinning too much.

He flopped onto his bed, burying his face in the pillows and letting out a short, muffled scream. Another thing he hadn’t done since he was much younger. His voice course, he flipped onto his back, hands behind his head as he glared at the ceiling. The alcohol had numbed his mind, thankfully, but he could still feel the adrenaline-fueled anger coursing through his body. He let his eyes fall, trying to count his breaths like Josh taught him once upon a time, and soon he was lulled into a fitful sleep.

~~~~~~

Jake was pulled from his slumber by the pool of sweat collecting on his back, the world already spinning behind his eyelids. He could tell he was still being dragged down by the alcohol in his system, so he knew that he couldn’t have been asleep for long. As he came to, his breathing picked up, wincing at the already evident headache he knew he would be dealing with all day.

His hand. There was something in his left hand. No, something holding his hand. As he awoke fully, he opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling. Jake didn't need to see what it was, he already knew.

Josh.

Sometime in the night, Josh had snuck back to Jake’s apartment, using the key his twin gave him when he moved in, and found Jake passed out in his bed. He pulled the covers atop his brother, then crawled onto the bed next to him, laying on his back to mirror Jake. He found Jake’s hand and cradled it in his; this was their source of comfort for each other whenever something terrible happened, especially when they were little. This was how Josh comforted Jake when their dad cut all his hair off. This was how they comforted each other through bad thunderstorms. And now, this was how he would comfort his twin through whatever was weighing him down so severely.

Jake stared at the ceiling knowing Josh was still awake due to his bouts of insomnia. Josh noted the change in his brother's breathing, but opted not to say anything, only giving Jake’s hand a gentle squeeze in acknowledgment.

Neither of them knew how long they laid there, side by side in the darkness of Jake’s bedroom, but the silence was welcome. Jake let the comfort of his twin wash over him, slowly closing his eyes before he breathed out,

“When did you come back?”

“About an hour after you kicked us out.”

That must’ve been only a couple minutes after I fell asleep.

Jake whispered out, “You didn’t have to come back, you know.”

Then Josh turned his head, looking at Jake’s side profile and taking in the details of his brother while his eyes were closed. His cheekbones looked sharper and the skin stretched over his jawline just a little tighter. Josh scowled, please tell me this fucker has been eating.

“Yes, I did.”

There was another beat of silence, and Josh could tell that Jake was gearing up the courage to be vulnerable with him, he just had to be patient. Minutes ticked by, and Josh thought Jake might’ve fallen back asleep, before he heard his brother continue,

“Josh… I don’t think I can keep doing this.”

“Doing what?”

Jake took a sharp inhale through his nose, his emotions already making their way to the forefront of his mind.

“Music,” he answered in a watery voice, “I’m… it’s killing me.”

Josh had a feeling that this was what was weighing on his mind, but it still shattered his heart into a million fractions to hear Jake admit it. By the tone of Jake’s voice, he knew that he had more to say, so he held his tongue.

“I know you all keep telling me to keep going, that I’m gifted or talented or whatever, but it’s not working. I don’t know if it’s because I don’t believe it, or just because I’m not as good as you all think I am.”

He opened his eyes again, watching the ceiling fan make its rounds.

“Mom and Dad always told me I’d be destined for greatness; hell, I’ve been holding that damn guitar since I’ve been in diapers,” he chuckled, bringing his empty hand to his forehead, “but I just don’t know if I love it anymore.” Jake was silent for another moment, trying to string together his thoughts to make them coherent for his brother, although he knew Josh would understand no matter what.

“It sounds like a fucking pity party now that I’m saying it out loud, but doing something creative and putting it out for the world to see and hear is exhausting. I’m playing to people who don’t give two shits. I’m tired of being vulnerable. I’m tired of writing these songs that mean so much to me only for them to mean jack shit to everybody else.”

He instinctively gripped Josh’s hand tighter. Josh continued to listen, shocked by what Jake was revealing. He hadn’t opened up to him like this in a long while, and his heart jumped that Jake felt comfortable enough again to let him see his struggles.

“I feel like a selfish jackass for saying that. I know I should be playing my music for me because it makes me happy,” his words began to crack as the tears formed in his eyes, “but how am I supposed to live my dream when no one will take the bait? Let alone pay my bills.”

“Jake, you gotta-”

He cut Josh off before he could finish his thought.

“Don’t tell me I have to keep going, that’s so easy for you to say. You, Sam, Danny, you guys are successful. Working hard paid off for you, and you're living your dreams. If I’m being honest, sometimes it’s hard to watch.”

The tears began rolling down his cheeks again.

“You all believe in me too much, you think I can do this. But what if I can’t? What if I actually am a failure and let you and our entire family down? Everyone who has rooted for me, who has helped me get to Nashville so I could live out my passion, I’m letting them all down. I don’t know what else to do. I don’t think I have it in me anymore.”

“Well you’re gonna let more people down if you give up,” Josh countered in a matter-of-fact tone.

“What a comforting sentiment.”

“No, Jake, I’m serious. We all believe in you for good reason: you’re talented, you’re intelligent, you put yourself out there and you don’t take shit that you don’t deserve. Nobody works harder than you and I know you don’t see it, but it will pay off. It always does. If you give up, of course the people who have your back would understand, but I think they’d be disappointed. Shit, nobody can play like you can and if I’m telling the truth, I’d be disappointed too ‘cause that would mean nobody would get to hear your music. It’d be a real shame.”

Jake knew Josh was right; he had never thought of it that way before.

Josh continued, “You’ve been in your head, isolating yourself away from everyone. I haven’t seen you like this since you found out Grace was cheating on you all those years ago. You need to get out again, spend some time with us. Remember last year when you would come over with your guitar and the four of us would goof off and sing together? The smile on your face spoke a thousand words. You just gotta get back to that. Maybe really think about what made you want to play in the first place. If you can find the source, you can reconnect with it.”

Classic Josh. He always knew how to calm Jake down while still talking to him straight. Of course they understood each other inside and out, and what Josh was advising was a surefire way for Jake to feel better, even if it wasn’t going to guarantee his career would take off. But right now, he wanted more than anything to feel the passion for his guitar again.

“I love you man, but you gotta stop pushing us away. We want to see you, it’s not the same without you. Sam is worried sick as you can see, and Danny’s not much better either,” Josh slid his eyes over to Jake. “You know, you were a real dick to him.”

Jake groaned, screwing his eyes shut.

“I know, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“You’re angry, frustrated. At the end of your rope," Josh said with a shrug. "I just always expected you’d take it out on me instead of our poor sweet Daniel."

Josh noticed a thin smile appear on Jake’s lips and he knew the pep talk was finally getting through.

“Listen, I’m in between shoots right now and I’ve got a couple months off. You are going to have lunch with me once a week, got it?”

A slight nod of agreement from Jake.

“And when Sam and Danny invite you out, you say yes unless you have a gig. I’m gonna try to come to as many of your gigs as I can, but you have to tell me when they are.”

“Are you supervising me?” Jake asked with a sarcasm laden voice.

“Yes! I’m helping you pull your shit together!” Josh laughed out, waving his unoccupied hand in the air. “I hate seeing you like this, it really concerns me. You and I have to stick together, and that means I’ve gotta pick you up when you faceplant and you do the same for me.”

He squeezed Jake’s hand again, emphasizing his point. They stayed silent for a while, Jake letting Josh’s words sink in.

Connect back to the source, huh.

He’d lost sight of that. He knew he loved his guitar more than anything, and he played it as his prominent source of self expression. Jake always found it hard to speak his emotions to others, but with his guitar, he felt like he could bare his soul to the world. It gave him power, confidence. His songs used to build him up, ever enthusiastic to share them with others. He had to get back to that.

“Thanks Josh,” he finally whispered as his eyes slipped shut again, the exhaustion beginning to pull him under.

“Nothing to thank me for, but I did have to resort to extreme measures.” Josh let out another chuckle, “Just don’t give up on me or I’ll kick your ass.”

“I won’t.”

"And apologize to Daniel."

"I will."

And with that, Jake was ushered back into rest, this time a peaceful sleep enveloping him. Josh listened to his twin snore lightly, deciding that he would wait just a while longer before he headed back home. It pained him to see Jake suffering like this; his twin had always been deeply sensitive, but never allowed many into his heart. Only Josh and his brothers were the ones to see the real Jake, and right now the real Jake was hurting immensely. Josh let his eyes slip shut, silently thanking Jake for being so vulnerable with him, letting out a deep sigh as he thought about what Jake had confessed.

To be continued...

taglist: @joopsworld @gold-mines-melting @shutupdevvie @indigostreakmorgan @sacredjake @malany-gvf @writingcold @mountain-in-springtime @anthemofgvf @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @songbirds-sweet

#surprise heheheh!#jake kiszka #jake kiszka gvf #jake kiszka fanfic #greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #gvf #danny wagner #sam kiszka #josh kiszka #iz fics

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apomaro-mellow · 2 years ago

Text

The Bright Side S01E01: Birthday Blues

The first installment of my Stranger Things sitcom-style fic! Enjoy!

"There he goes again", Jim said, looking at something through the blinds.

"Are you spying on the neighbors?", El asked, coming down to make herself some waffles.

"I'm observing his horrible lawn-mowing technique." Just outside the window, the teenage son of the neighbor next door struggled with a lawn mower. His lines were uneven and Jim knew he wouldn't go back and fix it.

"You could give him some landscaping tips you know."

"If I go over there and try tellin' him what to do that devil-woman will go all mama bear on me." Jim didn't move from his position all the same.

Just then, Steve sped down the stairs, hurrying to pull his jacket on and glance at the fridge. "Rob is gonna kill me! I'm late!" He grabbed and apple and was about to rush out the backdoor when El got up and took him by the elbow. She put a finger to her lips and pointed to their father.

"Are we still on for tonight?", she whispered.

"Yes. Of course. I'll have everything ready", Steve whispered back.

"You kids better not be schemin' behind my back", Jim said without turning around.

"You know El's too innocent to scheme. I'll be back at 6", Steve said before rushing out the door.

Jim mumbled something under his breath about unkempt lawns. El watched for a moment more before leaving as well. She had to finalize today's plans with her friends.

She was practically buzzing when she got to Dustin's house, elated that he already had a whole chalkboard set up in his living room. Max, Lucas, and Will were there too. And Mike. But Will was already sitting next to him so El sat next to Max.

"Alright. Operation Birthday will soon commence", Dustin said. "Everyone remember their jobs?"

"Will and I are going to get him out of the house", El said. "That way the decorations team can come in."

"Max and I are on decorations, because we're the only ones with taste", Lucas grinned.

Then Dustin pointed to himself. "Then Mike and I will procure the present. Which should be arriving from the post office any minute now."

Mike raised his hand. "Remind me again why we're throwing on a party for him?"

"Because he's my father", El glowered. Mike was cute but sometimes he could be a buttmunch. He made it so hard to crush on him some days.

"I think if we're nice to Mr. Hopper, he'll be nicer to us", Will figured. "And maybe stop bickering with my mom."

"Okay, keep these things in mind for everything to go right", Dustin began underlining things on the chalkboard. "Don't let Mr. Hopper and Ms. Byers alone together. Don't let him into the house too early. And do everything perfectly."

"Yeah, how hard can that be?", Mike rolled his eyes.

-----------------------------

"So we're heading to your place right after work?", Robin asked as she stacked some tapes.

"I mean yeah. It's just gonna be me, my dad, my sister, and her friends. A couple of the neighbors", Steve shrugged.

"Oh just? Steve, that's like a dozen people at least. Of course you'd think that's a small get together."

"It's just my dad's birthday. So I mean, if you wanna come...it's really just gonna be us. El and her friends will probably pick a corner and play some game. My dad's probably just gonna argue with Joyce the whole time so-"

"Sounds like you'll be defenseless without me. Or were you hoping to strike up a conversation with Jonathan Byers?"

"Would that be smart?"

"It would be wise, which is different from being smart", Robin pointed out.

"I don't think I'm either. Smart or wise." Steve took some of the tapes Robin had stacked and started carrying them to the shelves.

"You're a wiseass, close enough. Your sister is already friends with the littlest Byers. Maybe if you and Jonathan get really friendly, your parents will too."

"Imagine me, a diplomat", Steve said as he looked around. "It's kinda weird how not-busy we are on a Saturday afternoon, right?"

"Sshh! Don't jinx it! If we're lucky, we'll be out of business before lunch", Robin swiped at him.

"Excuse you, I would like it if I didn't have to go job hunting every week. Bad enough that the freezer at Scoops Ahoy exploded."

"Yeah, who would've thought an ice cream freezer would explode?"

"We promised the NDAs we would never speak of it again."

-------------------------------

El was pulling her father out of the house by the hand. "Come on Dad, you have to see this."

Will followed from behind, putting a finger to his lips as Max and Lucas silently snuck in through another door, box full of decorations. Once Will closed the front door, they let out a breath.

"Okay, we've got an hour to get all this stuff up", Lucas said, opening the box.

"Wait, Lucas", Max held a hand up. "We've got a whole hour."

"Yeah? I just said that."

"This is gonna take us 10 minutes tops. Which means we can do a little...", Max's eyes looked this way and that about the living room.

Lucas' chin jutted a little. "Snoop?"

"Not snooping. Just...exploring."

"I'm not looking through El's stuff. 1. she's a girl. and 2. she's a party member. That breaks two rules. And Hopper probably just has old man underwear and cologne."

Max's head cocked. "Steve's stuff?"

"Let's go!"

They bounded up the stairs without a moment's hesitation.

--------------------------------

Steve in the middle of trying to both sell a video and get a date when the phone at the desk rang.

"Family Video, bringing home entertainment to your whole family. This is Steve, how may I help you?"

"Steve? It's El. We have a problem."

"What is it? What's going on?"

"So we started Operation Birthday-"

"That sounds like one of Dustin's plans. I told you to stop scheming with those guys-"

"Steve, Dad's leg is broken!"

"What?", Steve breathed out. He tried gesturing for Robin to start grabbing his things from the breakroom and it took some wild movements as she first picked up a tape, then pointed to a chair, and then finally realized he wanted his keys and jacket. All through this, El was telling him how Jim slipped on a skateboard (probably Max's) and Joyce had to drive them to the hospital.

"I'm on my way." He hung up and turned to Robin.

"Go. I'll take care of things here. Save me some cake?"

"Will do. And you're the best!"

"That's why you imprinted on me!", she shouted at his back as he left the store.

Steve sped down the road and pretty much bulldozed his way into the hospital before getting to the room where they were seeing Jim. He looked up in surprise.

"Where's the fire kiddo?"

"El said you broke your leg!", Steve panted out.

"It's more of a sprain really", Joyce piped up from the chair she was sitting in. "But you wouldn't know it from how he bawled like a baby."

"Hey I think I have a right to scream and shout when my leg's outta whack."

"You got your little girl in a panic and she called your son down", Joyce waved a hand at Steve.

"Better than leaving me at the mercy of you."

"Well maybe I should've let Will drive you to the hospital, how about that?"

Jim had a comeback for that while El slid in next to Steve with a sigh. "They were like this the whole. way. here."

"Well, that's what you get for your schemes. Joyce said it's just a sprain though. He should be fine. But I'm sorry it didn't go the way you planned." Steve gave her a pat on the shoulder.

Lucas and Max came in, along with Jonathan and Will.

"Will told us everything!", Lucas exclaimed.

"So uh, did you ever find the punk the skateboard belonged to?", Max asked, eyes shifty. "Because I bet it was Todd Palmer."

"Definitely", Lucas agreed. "Definitely Todd Palmer. There's no way it could belong to any of us." Which got him a swift smack in the arm from Max.

"What's this about plans and schemes?", Jim asked, bypassing all of the rest.

El let out a sigh. "We were trying to surprise you for your birthday." She looked utterly heartbroken.

"C'mere, kiddo", Jim said from the hospital bed. He enveloped his daughter in a hug. "You know what we always say. It's the thought that counts. You know I don't need a big party or fancy gifts-"

Mike and Dustin bursted through the doors. "You guys won't believe what we had to go through to get this gift!", Dustin shouted.

"Dude! Hospital! Inside voice!", Steve also shouted though not as loudly.

"We were waiting for the mailman, right?", Mike launched, ignoring Steve. "But the truck drove right past us-"

"So we're chasin' and chasin' after this guy, shouting at him to stop the car-", Dustin continued.

"And he goes all the way back to the post office-"

"We get in, try and tell them what happened but they won't give it to us without proof of address which is totally agist-"

"So we had to sneak into the back and find the box but we got caught and they started chasing us and I'm pretty sure we just committed a felony."

"But we got the present~", Dustin sang triumphantly, holding the box over his head.

He put it at the foot of Jim's bed and everyone looked at him expectantly. Jim rolled his eyes, choosing to ignore the possible package theft that the two kids committed and grabbed the box. It did in fact have their current address on it. He opened it and took out book with the utmost reverence.

"Is that?", Steve started to ask.

"My mother's recipes", Jim confirmed. He looked to El. "How did you?"

"I have my ways", she smiled. "You told me she had a pancake recipe that would make me forget all about waffles."

Jim laughed softly. "That she did." He pulled her in for another hug and kissed the top of her head. "Thanks, kid."

-----------------------------

Later, Jim was released and Steve helped him into the house and onto the couch. The other kids felt bad even now and were still lingering around in the house even though they had nothing to do.

"Just relax and let cable TV soothe you", Dustin said as he turned on the television while Steve went up to his room.

"Which one of you little nerds went through my stuff?!", he shouted from upstairs.

Lucas and Max shared a look of panic before bolting from the house.

Episode 2

#stranger things #apo writes #fanfiction #jim hopper #el hopper #steve harrington

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undressmewithyoureyes · 10 days ago

Text

KING - (TEN)

**Lillith**

Ive been in bed for the past two hours and all I can do is stare at the ceiling. The fan is the only thing in my room making noise, but my mind is far louder. I don’t have a set game plan for tomorrow, but really, we can come up with one on our way to our location. This UNKNOWN guy isn’t for sure going to be there. Sure, he’s the one were after, but as long as I can get to Alex, I’ll get the answers I need. No doubt about that.

I turn over on my side - staring out at the window. Its pitch black, but what else can I expect whenever I live underground. Maybe install some halogen lights on a timer so I can recreate the soft warm glow of a sunrise and sunset.

My phone begins its rhythmic buzz, letting me know someone is calling. I reach for my nightstand and grab the vibrating device. My blood runs cold when I see the name across my screen.

Rachel.

I immediately swap to answer, “Yeah,” I say with anticipation. I sit up in bed heading to my closet to get dressed.

“Lil, calm down. I was just calling to hear your voice,” she pauses and I come to a halt - my anxiety settling down, but my heart rate still on flight response. “Plus, Katie wanted to talk to you.”

“Rachel,” I say sounding out of breath, “I told you to only call if there was an emergency.”

She sighs and I know she means well, but I have to take every precaution that I can, “I know…but I miss you and Katie has been asking when you’re coming.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose and take a few deep breaths. I love my sister, but her and my niece know that communication with me needs to be kept at a bare minimum. In my line of work, all someone would need is the slightest bit of information. “Hows her therapy going?” I ask, changing the subject.

Rachel wait a few seconds, I'm assuming to gather what she's about to say, “She’s starting to remember.”

Fuck.

I exhale a much needed breath, “I have to go Rachel.”

My sister on the other end of the phone gives an aggravated sigh, “You cant keep running from this Lillith.” She never uses my full name unless she's upset - and that just makes the guilt weigh on me even more.

“I know,” I say with a shaky breath as tears swell over my eyes, “I’ll come visit soon.”

“I cant keep lying to her about when you’re coming Lillith. That isn’t fair to her,” Rachels voice still stern. I get it. If the shoe was on the other foot, I’d be the same way.

I sniffle as the tears spill over and run down my cheeks, “Give her a kiss for me. I have to go,” I pause, but speak again before she has a chance to, “I love you Rachel.” I pull the phone from my ear and hang up as I hear her start talking, but the blood rushing to my ears drowns out what she was saying.

I throw my phone on the bed and head to the joined bathroom - the lights making me squint my eyes. I head towards the shower and turn it on - steam filling the glass box and rolling out onto the marble floors. I strip my clothes and step in, shutting the door behind me.

I don't need to shower, but I feel the water will wash some one my guilt and sins away. Im not perfect by any means. Fuck skeletons, I have demons in my closet that are begging to get out. Scratching at the door letting me know with one wrong move, they're going to lurch out and devour me. And thats not something I can afford right now.

I place my hands on the cool stone wall as the water runs over my head and down my body. I hiss at the temperature and see red lines forming where the water runs. It reminds me of lava when a volcano erupts. No one knows the path of the magma, but it burns red and leaves behind marks as it dries and hardens.

Tears continue to roll down my face as it mixes with the water. I hate closing my eyes because every time I do, I'm back in hell. Back where all this shit started. I didn’t have a perfect life growing up and I damn sure haven’t had the best deck of cards handed to me in adulthood either. Ive always welcomed the darkness, but theres this dim light in me that wants to welcome the light so it can burn brighter.

“Is that from when you were captured?”

My eyes shoot open and my heart pounds in my chest. I cock my head to the side and see a masked man at the shower door. Its him. “Don’t you know anything about fucking manners?!”

Ghost snorts, “Im sorry, I thought those were out the window with you reading into our lives.”

I turn the water off and turn around to face him. Really, I don’t give a fuck if I'm dressed or not. Im not here to impress him or anyone for that matter. I can see his jaw tighten through his mask as his eyes roam over my wet naked body, “Be pissed all you want, I'm not apologizing for it,” I say as I walk to him and open the door more than what he already had it.

“Can you fucking move?” I hate that I have to look up to him. To his arrogance, but we both know I can have him on his fucking knees looking up at me within seconds. I’ll let him think he’s the one holding the reigns for now. Tomorrow, will be a different story.

“You’re not supposed to stand under the water with your eyes open,” he says disregarding my rhetorical question. The fuck? I furrow my brows at his statement and before I can ask what the hell he means, he continues, “Im assuming thats why your eyes are red and your face is puffy.”

Fuck. The last thing I need is him adding that I have feelings because Im a human being to his list of things thats wrong with me. “Thanks,” I say dryly as I push past him, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

My wet feet slap against the marble floors as I go to my sink and grab a towel that was resting on top of the vanity. Even though the mirrors are foggy, I can feel his eyes on me. “Why the fuck were you even watching me shower anyway? Thats a bit perverted, even for you Simon Riley.”

I know calling him anything other than his rank or call sign aggravates the fuck out of him. “I’ll answer yours if you answer mine.”

Dick.

I wrap the towel around me and turn to face him, “Yes.”

He nods his head slowly, taking in my answer, “What actually happened to you?”

I snort, “This isn’t a one way street and I'm not playing twenty one questions with you. I answered yours, now answer mine.”

My eyes watch his dark one and I swear I've never seen a shade of brown so dark, “I had to pee. When I opened the door, I realized you were in here,” he pauses and takes a step towards me, “Then I heard you sniffling and realized you were crying.”

“You going to hold that against me too?” I bite back.

He takes a few more steps and stands before me, looking down at me like I'm some child, “No. We all have bad days in this field, Lillith.” I can deny that pulse that just went straight to my pussy when he said my name. I know I shouldn’t give this asshole the time or day, but Simon Ghost Riley doesn’t bullshit around either. He keeps the few friends he has close, but damn sure has his enemies closer.

I clear my throat and go to speak, but yet again, he beats me to it, “I like the tattoos by the way.”

I forget I have them honestly. I wear all black gear that covers everything - gloves too. So when I do take them off, I forget I'm a painted canvas. “I got them done after…” I trail off making it known what it was from.

I have a left sleeve that is completely black and grey and my right leg sleeve the same. Its of different things that all come together, but its neat to look at if I'm wearing a tank top and shorts. A little yin-yang effect. “Theres some things I will take to my grave, whenever that may be.”

He nods, understanding that my capture is one of those things. Its not something I want to relive. I step and walk around him to go back into my bedroom. “Lillith,” he says and I stop and turn to look at him. “I know what it was like.” To a certain extent, he does. Like me, he was also captured, but everyone knows his story. Mine, theres multiple versions and they are all untrue.

“But you don’t,” I say with my voice shaking. “You will never experience what I went through and I hope to God, you never do.” I turn back around and walk into my bedroom, shutting the door and leaving Simon Ghost Riley and that conversation to wash down the drain.

**************************************************

I barely got any sleep last night. Between the conversation with my sister and the interrogator in the bathroom, it wasn’t one of my best nights. Ive been through worst, but a loud mind is probably one of the worst things a person can experience - and right now, I'm at a fucking concert.

The roar of the helo drowns out most of my thoughts as I sit on the bench - leaned up against the helos metal walls. I haven’t explained my mission and how I want it to go yet, but I feel like its also self explanatory. Ghost sits beside me. Our legs occasionally touching from the shake of the helicopter. I don't mind it. Sometimes a touch of another person, regardless how small, is something you need to keep yourself grounded.

I lean up, rest my elbows on my knees and hang my head. Im ready to go ahead and get this shit over with. I need someone to piss me off in Germany so I can feel the rush that I crave. I need that high of hearing someones skull crack as I drive my knife in it. To feel their blood spray across my face. Some people will take the warm ocean water spray, I however prefer the blood of my enemies. Poetic and romantic.

“You good, darling?” Captain Price asks me.

I raise my head and nod. Everyone is watching me. Im sure they are wondering the same thing - what the fuck is she doing?

I stand to my feet, grabbing one of the fabric hooks hanging from the top of the helo to support myself. “The mission is simple. Kill and capture.” I look around the helo and everyone nods. “My main concern right now is Alex. If we can get him to talk, then we can find out who this UNKNOWN guy is. Kill anyone who gets in our way.”

I take in a deep breath as my heart rate picks up. Im getting excited, “Do not kill Alex or UNKNOWN. I want them both alive and hopefully both coming back with us. Understood?”

Everyone nods in unison. Perfect. “The place is going to be heavily guarded. Use your knives as much as you can unless you have a suppressor. I don’t want to ring the alarm before we get close to our target.”

“What if he isn’t there?” Soap asks adding another voice to the conversation.

“Theres no reason he shouldn’t be. This is his only place. He’s spent too much money trying to get his hands on anything nuclear, there isn’t anywhere else for him to go,” I reply back to not just him, but everyone as well.

Rosa raises her hand with a grin on her face, “I have a question.”

Im not in the mood for her right now, but I’ll bite, “What?”

The smile on her face grows, “What if he’s there?”

I roll my eyes and take in a deep breath to calm the demon in me, “As I said before, kill anyone who gets in our way.”

The rest of the flight is quiet - other than the few conversations between 141 and of course Rosa chiming in with her perverted self. I did end up sitting in the cockpit with Nik to keep him company.

He holds up three fingers to me - indicating to change the channel on the radio through the helo. I change the channel so its only Nik and I on this line. “Whats wrong?”

Nik knows when something is wrong. Ive been around him long enough, “Rachel called me last night.”

He jerks his head towards me, “Lil, if you want me to turn around…”

I interrupt him, “No, it wasn’t that kind of call. She was just checking in.”

I continue to look ahead through the darkness, but can see Niks head going back from looking at me to ahead to make sure were still flying in the clear, “Hows Katie?”

Its a question that I don’t answer. I lean back against the seat and stare straight ahead. Nik reaches out and grabs my hand and gives a light squeeze. Its not intimate, but assuring. He’s like my best friend who doesn’t judge me. He’s always been there when I needed him. He's seen me at my worst and helped me get to my best.

I close my eyes and I hear him say through the radio, “Twenty minutes until we land.”

Good because Im ready to stack bodies.

#ao3 fanfic #fanfic #gaz cod #simon ghost riley #fanfiction #smut #archive of our own #ao3 writer #konig smut #KING

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wren-of-the-woods · 1 year ago

Text

This Accident and Flood of Fortune

Lizzy and William are looking forward to a quiet date watching their sisters perform in Twelfth Night — but when they discover that George Wickham is waiting in the wings, they must use Lizzy’s wits and their combined nerdery to help William get his revenge. Or: In which Lizzy comes up with a scheme, and even Shakespeare would be proud of the chaos that ensues.

This was written by @bloodsoaked-rainbows and I for @friendoftrees! It's the third installment in our Pride & Prejudice series Once Upon a Text, though it should be readable on its own. It's about 3k of silliness and can also be read on AO3 here!

Lizzy is finally going to see William again.

It has been over a week since their first date, and while they have managed to keep up their habit of texting regularly, the chaos of the holidays (and the inevitable Collins-avoiding that entailed) have kept them from being able to meet in person since that fateful day. Fortunately, their sisters have given them a way to escape their respective houses.

The two of them are meeting at a public rendition of a Shakespeare play in which both Mary and William’s sister Georgiana will be performing. It should be highly enjoyable, or at least entertaining; it’s hard to do a performance of Twelfth Night without making somebody laugh. After the play, they plan to spend some time on their own, but at this point Lizzy thinks that she’d be satisfied to see William in any circumstances. Being stuck with her family throughout the holidays has started to make her feel mildly insane.

Her phone buzzes with yet another notification from its messages app. The Bennet Family Group Chat has been very active this morning, to no one’s surprise.

Lizzy checks the notification and rolls her eyes.

Bennet Family Group Chat

Trouble 1: sooo lizzy are you excited for your ✨date✨

Typical Lydia behavior. The name Lizzy added as her contact has never proved to be inaccurate. Lizzy barely has time to sigh before her phone buzzes with another notification as Kitty and their mother chime in, and it hardly takes a minute for the chaos to spread to the rest of their family.

Bennet Family Group Chat

Trouble 2: OOH YEAH👀

Mama Goose: i hope you don’t scare him away to soon!

MaryBerry: *too

Mama Goose: he’s quite rich, you know

Father Goose: We know.

As usual, Jane comes to Lizzy’s rescue as the only sane one in the mess that was their group chat.

muffin: Just be nice to poor Lizzy, for heaven’s sake! She’s probably nervous enough

Lizzy: Thanks, Jane You’re my favorite Hope you and Charles have a good time at the play, too

Trouble 1: HEY favorite???? rUde

Trouble 2: :((

Lizzy: <3

Lizzy closes her phone and resolutely ignores the notifications that continue to flash across its screen. She has more important people to talk to than her family, after all.

Lizzy gets to the theater with minimal trouble and, after she greets William with an enthusiastic hug, they go to find their seats. Jane and Charles are here as well, but they have settled in an opposite corner of the theater and are completely wrapped up in each other, so Lizzy thinks she will have William to herself today.

“I trust you have been well since our last meeting?” asks William, completely genuine like the outdated dork he is. Lizzy cannot help but smile.

Lizzy sits down as they talk. William settles beside her. “I’ve been fine. A bit frazzled, but you already knew that from our texts.”

“I understand the feeling. I currently live with Caroline Bingley.”

Lizzy grimaces. “That must be unpleasant.”

William nods gravely. “There is little escape.”

“Oh! Fitzwilliam, dear!” calls a terribly, horribly familiar voice. “Fancy seeing you here! What a surprise.”

William sighs. “Speak of the devil.”

A dog barks as though in agreement. Lizzy turns to see Caroline Bingley, dressed to her usual ostentatious standards. In a flowery handbag, she carries the smallest, most absurd little poodle that Lizzy has seen in her entire life. Its curly white fur is shaved on most of its body coiffed neatly on top of its head and on the tip of its tail. In both places, it is finished off by a lacy pink ribbon tied in a bow. Lizzy is simultaneously awed by its absurdity and utterly unsurprised by Caroline’s idiocy.

“Hello, Caroline,” says William tiredly.

“I cannot wait to see our dear Georgiana perform,” says Caroline, flouncing closer.

“Nor can I,” William says unenthusiastically.

There is an empty seat beside William. Caroline’s intentions are clear. Lizzy looks around in panic.

“How about we go sit over there, William?” she asks with false cheer, pointing at two empty seats surrounded by other strangers. “There’ll be a better view of Georgiana’s entrance, don’t you think?”

“What a fabulous idea,” William says, standing up.

They hurriedly make their escape, leaving a somewhat confused Caroline and poodle behind.

The play begins only a few moments later, and Lizzy sits back, enjoying the familiar opening lines of Twelfth Night as they are spoken across the stage.

“If music be the food of love, play on,” William whispers into her ear, quoting along with the actor playing Duke Orsino. “Give me excess of it; that surfeiting, / The appetite may sicken, and so die.”

Lizzy giggles quietly. “Do you know the whole play?”

“Only most of it,” says William with a smile.

They quiet down and watch as the play begins to unfold. When Georgiana makes her entrance as a storm-disheveled Viola, William catches her eye and gives her a thumbs up. Lizzy thinks she sees Georgiana smile before she returns her attention to her role.

Everything is going wonderfully, in short— right up until the middle of the next scene.

When a handsome young man emerges onto the stage as Sir Andrew, Lizzy feels William go worryingly tense beside her.

“Sir Toby Belch! How now, Sir Toby Belch?” cries the man. Lizzy thinks he is doing a rather good job of capturing the silliness of the role, but when she glances at William, he looks horrified.

“What’s wrong?” she whispers to him as Sir Andrew banters with the other characters.

“I know that man,” William says quietly. Lizzy is rather concerned to note that his words sound more like a growl than a whisper.

“Who? Sir Andrew?”

“His name is George Wickham.”

Lizzy’s eyes widen. She knows about William’s childhood friend and the way he had betrayed William by attempting to gain more than his fair share of William’s father’s inheritance and generally being an asshole.

“That’s him? I thought you hadn’t seen him for years!”

“I haven’t,” says William grimly. “I have no idea why he’s here.”

“Why would he be playing Sir Andrew, of all people?” asks Lizzy as Sir Andrew — Wickham, apparently — pretends not to understand French.

William’s eyes go wide. “Fuck.”

Lizzy doesn’t think she’s ever heard her boyfriend curse in the entire time she’s known him. “What?”

“Georgiana’s been talking about a charming friend she made in theater. A friend named George.”

“Do you think he’s trying to befriend your sister to get revenge on you?”

“It’s certainly possible.”

Lizzy considers this. Onstage, Wickham and the other actors make their exit.

“Shit,” she agrees.

As they sit there, reeling, Georgiana enters the stage again. Her character, Viola, has now disguised herself as a man. Lizzy blinks. In this costume, Georgiana looks startlingly like her brother.

Lizzy thinks about their new conundrum. She thinks about the play. She thinks about how the plot proceeds from here. She turns to William.

“I have a brilliant idea.”

“This is a stupid plan,” William grumbles as Lizzy pushes him in the direction of Mary, who had managed to escape her place backstage and bring out a costume.

“It’ll be great,” says Lizzy. “Trust me. I’ve been texting Mary and we figured the whole thing out.”

“And Mary is fine with this?” William asks doubtfully.

“Completely,” says Lizzy, conveniently failing to mention the part where she had offered a thirty-dollar Barnes & Noble gift card as a bribe.

“And the rest of the cast?”

“Absolutely on board,” says Lizzy confidently. She had promised them some of Jane’s cookies. “Just get changed and wait for the right moment.”

“You’re going to owe me if this goes wrong,” William mutters darkly.

“And me,” Mary says, handing William the costume.

“Nothing is going to go wrong,” Lizzy says, grinning confidently.

She shoves William in the direction of the bathroom and hurries back to her seat before anyone can get suspicious about her absence.

The play continues. Mary makes her entrance as Lady Olivia, looking commendably unruffled by the sudden change in plans backstage. They perform well, and for a few moments, Lizzy happily loses herself in the play and forgets about her nerves and her glee about her plan.

Then things are set into motion.

At the beginning of act two, it is revealed that Georgiana’s character, Viola, has a twin brother named Sebastian who survived the shipwreck in which everyone assumed he had met his demise. The actor who walks onstage at the beginning of the scene, conversing emphatically with his friend Antonio, is not the person who was originally cast. In fact, the actor who was going to play Sebastian has made his way into the audience, sitting next to Caroline Bingley. He is petting the poodle.

Onstage, the character is instead portrayed by a very wet William Darcy.

“By your patience, no,” says William gravely. His voice is deep and carries well throughout the theater. “My stars shine darkly over me. The malignancy of my fate might perhaps distemper yours; therefore I shall crave of you your leave, that I may bear my evils alone. It were a bad recompense for your love, to lay any of them on you.”

William’s character has boots that are almost knee-high and a flowing white shirt with long sleeves. He has just survived a shipwreck, and as such, he is wet and disheveled. He is, in short, gorgeous.

Lizzy hears a distant shriek that she assumes is Caroline Bingley. She feels rather similar. She realizes that she may have made a slight miscalculation. There is only one flaw in her genius plan. At the end of the play, Sebastian will marry Lady Olivia, which means that William will have to pretend to marry Mary. If he is going to look like this the whole time, Lizzy does not think she would be able to stand that.

She watches him onstage. She thinks. She is interrupted when her phone buzzes.

Bennet Family Group Chat

muffin: LIZZY WHY IS WILLIAM ONSTAGE

Trouble 2: he’s WHAT

Mother Goose: i thought it was his sister who’s int he play

MaryBerry: *in the

Trouble 1: Lizzy WHAT IS GOING ON PLEASE TELL ME

Lizzy: It’s fine guys don’t worry

muffin: THAT DOESN’T CLARIFY ANYTHING

Lizzy: We have a plan It’s fine

muffin: What kind of plan could possibly require him to be IN THE PLAY

Lizzy: Remember when i told you about his childhood friend’s betrayal The friend is in the play He’s Sir Andrew

muffin: His childhood nemesis is Sir Andrew??

Lizzy: NO The actor

muffin: oh

Trouble 1: oOoOo

Father Goose: ???

Lizzy: Anyway y’know how in twelfth night there’re multiple duels In one of them the character Sebastian fights Wickham’s character

Trouble 1: OOOOO

Lizzy: So William is playing Sebastian now And he’ll have an excuse to beat Wickham’s ass :D

muffin: LIZZY LIZZY THIS IS PROBABLY UNETHICAL

Father Goose: Excellent scheming. I approve

Lizzy: Thanks dad <3

Lizzy sighs and puts her phone away. She looks back at William. He is still as unfairly handsome as he was before. He knows all the lines and is delivering them flawlessly because he is, deep down in his heart, beneath all the brooding and handsomeness, a complete and utter nerd. After a moment, he exits the stage with Antonio and the next scene begins.

Lizzy heaves a sigh of relief at the success of the first part of their plan. Now all William has to do is hide backstage between his scenes and keep Wickham from noticing until their plan comes to fruition.

Ignoring the notifications still coming from her family’s group chat, she opens her Discord conversation with William.

TheWittyFool: good job out there babe!!!! TheWittyFool: you did great <3

Goodnight_Sweet_Prince: I’m hiding behind a barrel right now. Goodnight_Sweet_Prince: I think Mary is laughing at me. Goodnight_Sweet_Prince: I am so wet

TheWittyFool: rip

Goodnight_Sweet_Prince: I’m remembering why I never got into theatre. Goodnight_Sweet_Prince: Oh no Georgiana is back Goodnight_Sweet_Prince: She saw me

TheWittyFool: 🫡TheWittyFool: good luck lol TheWittyFool: maybe explain that her friend is actually an asshole?

Goodnight_Sweet_Prince: Now? Really?

TheWittyFool: i mean it’s better than later

Goodnight_Sweet_Prince: I guess Goodnight_Sweet_Prince: Wish me luck

TheWittyFool: gl :D

Goodnight_Sweet_Prince: D:

Lizzy’s Discord goes silent. It shows William as offline, presumably explaining things to his sister, so she puts her phone away again. She leans back in her seat. She watches the comedy unfolding on the stage. She thinks about the fact that, despite their vastly different personalities, she and Mary actually look fairly similar to each other.

After a moment, she opens her phone.

Bennet Family Group Chat

Lizzy: I have another brilliant idea

MaryBerry: Oh no.

Lizzy: :)

“I can’t believe you convinced me to do this,” Mary sighs as she helps lace the back of Lizzy’s costume.

“I mean, you’ll get seventy dollars at Barnes & Noble out of it,” says Lizzy. “Seems like a pretty good deal to me. Besides, you can do the rest of the play in the next few performances.”

“This whole situation is absurd,” Mary continues, ignoring Lizzy.

Lizzy ignores her in turn, flipping through the copy of Twelfth Night the actor playing Sir Toby had lent her and muttering lines to herself. When the costume is on properly, Mary sighs and leaves her be. She is typing something on her phone. Lizzy assumes the group chat is dissolving into further chaos. She does not care.

Satisfied that she knows the part well enough, she puts the play aside and turns to peek at the performance from her place backstage. William is on the stage. It is the first scene of act four. Soon, the moment of truth will arrive.

Indeed, after only a few minutes, Wickham makes his entrance onto the stage. Lizzy relishes the look of complete and utter shock on his face when he recognizes William. He stumbles. He opens and closes his mouth. His face goes pale. For a moment, Lizzy thinks he is going to completely abandon his part, but he recovers after a long minute of silence.

“N- now, sir, have I met you again?” Wickham stutters after a moment. “There’s for you!”

Wickham attempts to glare at William threateningly. William is glowering at him, looking for all the world as though he actually intends to duel him to the death.

Wickham takes a deep breath — Lizzy assumes he is trying desperately to remember his blocking — before he walks forward and slaps William in the face.

William raises one eyebrow. He draws his fake dagger. He scowls, and then, like a striking panther, he lunges forward.

“Why, there’s for thee,” he cries, striking Wickham in the stomach with the hilt of his dagger. “And there” —a hit to his side— “and there!”

As he delivers the final words, William gives him a blow to the shoulder that sends Wickham sprawling on the floor.

“Are all the people mad?” growls William, and Lizzy swears she hears Wickham whimper.

Another character, Sir Toby, intervenes in the fight. The actor appears genuinely concerned. “Hold, sir, or I’ll throw your dagger o’er the house!”

One character delivers a line and exits the stage. Lizzy winks at him, and he stifles a laugh.

Onstage, the actor playing Sir Toby takes William’s arm and holds him back. William is glaring daggers at Wickham, who is just now returning to his feet.

“Come on, sir, hold!” says the actor.

“Nay, let him alone,” Wickham pants, clutching his side. “I’ll go another way to work with him; I’ll have an action of battery against him, if there be any law in Illyria. Though I struck him first, yet it’s no matter for that.”

“Let go thy hand!” William snarls at the remaining actor, Sir Toby.

The character begins to protest, but before he can finish his line, William breaks free and draws his fake sword. Sir Toby says a few lines and draws his own sword, but Lizzy is no longer paying attention. Her turn has almost come.

Taking a deep breath, she enters the stage as Olivia.

“Hold, Toby,” she cries. “On thy life I charge thee hold!”

Everyone turns. The actors all stare at her, blinking. There are varying levels of shock on their faces. William’s eyes are very wide.

“Madam—” says Sir Toby’s poor actor weakly.

“Will it ever be thus? Ungracious wretch,” she says, glaring directly at Wickham.

She launches into a series of insults until all the actors except William slink from the stage, then proceeds to deliver a series of loving lines to William.

William looks just as confused as his character is supposed to be.

“What relish is in this? How runs the stream?” he says weakly to the audience. “Or am I mad, or else is this a dream?”

They exchange a few more lines, as Lizzy’s character professes her adoration for William’s character.

“Nay, come, I prithee,” she says. “Would thou’dst be rul’d by me!”

“Madam, I will.”

“O say so, and so be!”

Lizzy walks up to William and, gently cupping his cheek, draws him into a kiss. It takes a moment for him to catch on, but soon he is kissing her back. The crowd applauds as they embrace and then walk offstage, hand in hand. Lizzy even hears a bark that sounds like a strangely approving poodle.

The moment they leave the stage, William turns to glare at her halfheartedly. “Why didn’t you warn me?!”

“There wasn’t time,” says Lizzy. “Also, this was funnier.”

William sighs, the effect slightly ruined by the smile he cannot quite hide. “You’re a menace.”

“Yep.”

William shakes his head. “Do you realize that was our first kiss?”

Lizzy blinks. “Huh.” She frowns. “I guess it was.” She turns to look at him. “Is that okay?”

William considers this for a moment. “It seems rather fitting, I suppose.”

“What do you mean?”

“Our relationship started with mistaken identities and general confusion. It was only right for us to continue the trend.”

Lizzy laughs, loud and bright. Mary runs up and hushes her.

“Give me your costume and get out of here!” she says. Beside her is the actor who was supposed to play Sebastian. “You’ve had your fun and given that barbarian something to remember you by. Now let us do the play properly.”

Lizzy and William change and surrender their costumes without complaint. They leave and return to their seats as everyone resumes their proper parts and brings the play to a close. Lizzy is satisfied to note that, when he comes back onstage, Wickham is sporting the beginnings of a rather spectacular black eye.

They applaud louder than anyone else as the actors take their bows. They leave the theater before Wickham can emerge from backstage. They are not disturbed by Caroline — she seems to have fled at some point after the onstage kiss. Lizzy and William hold hands as they walk down the street, enjoying the quiet and the sunshine after the chaos that had been the last few hours.

“That was the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever done,” says William. “It was a terrible idea. I’m going to have to properly deal with Wickham eventually.”

“It was fun though, wasn’t it?”

William is silent. Lizzy takes this as the agreement it is.

“You’re welcome,” she says with a grin.

William sighs, rolls his eyes, and kisses her again.

Together, they walk into the sunset.

(Two hours later…)

Bennet Family Group Chat

muffin: drama.mov I filmed the whole scene btw

Lizzy: wHAT

muffin: :)

*Many people are typing*

#pride and prejudice #pride & prejudice #p&p #elizabeth bennet #fitzwilliam darcy #jane austen #wren writes #bloodsoaked-rambles #i had so much fun with this ngl #bloodsoaked-rainbows and i laughed very much #and got to reread parts of twelfth night which is always a bonus

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babytarttdoodoo · 1 year ago

Text

wrong words seem to rhyme

((Winner of Whumptober Poll #3 | Day 13 | “I don’t feel so good.”))

Colin had become unfortunately well-acquainted with the tiled floor of his ensuite over the past 10 hours. Never had he been more grateful for the previous owner’s decision to install underfloor heating than when paying seemingly neverending tribute to the porcelain god.

The warmth did little to comfort him in the moment, however, as the room span and yet another wave of nausea had him closing his eyes tight and pressing his face to his arm in misery.

“Your phone’s buzzing.” Michael’s voice was soft and sympathetic behind him, coming from the direction of the doorway. Colin didn’t check, opting to instead groan loudly and push his face more firmly against the crook of his elbow.

He swallowed with some difficulty, thanks to the dehydration and rancid taste in his mouth, before summoning the strength to respond.

“It’ll be my alarm. S’posed to head to Richmond soon.”

Michael hummed and his hand landed on the back of Colin’s neck, rubbing gently. "I don't think your coaches would thank either of us for you infecting half the team. Do you want me to call in for you?”

Colin grunted and turned his head, very bravely cracking his eyes open again. “You want to be the one telling Roy I’m out of commission?”

“I’d rather that than him turning up on the doorstep,” Michael smiled, crouching down and smoothing Colin’s hair back from his forehead. “Hm, you’re still too warm. I can work from home today, if you like?”

It was just a turn of phrase but Colin’s stomach still gave a giddy swoop at Michael calling his house ‘home’. Normally, it would make his ears burn with a blush. Right now, it was an unwelcome wobble of his delicate gut.

He swallowed again and grimaced. “You don’t have to. Don’t think I’ll be much fun to be around.”

“I don’t expect so, no. But I’ll just be worried about you all day if I’m not here.”

Colin huffed, a fond little smile managing to make an appearance in spite of his general upset with the world and, in particular, the spot he was currently occupying in it.

“Carry on like that and I’ll start thinking you like me, or something,” he teased weakly, leaning helplessly into the warmth of Michael’s body. “People will talk.”

“The horror.” Michael deadpanned, simultaneously slipping his fingers back to cradle Colin’s head and dig into the base of his neck again. The light pressure brought so much relief to the pounding ache in his skull that Colin’s eyes teared up and he closed them with a groan.

“I don’t feel so good.”

“I know,” Michael soothed, continuing his ministrations and letting his boyfriend tuck his sweaty face against his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault,” Colin told him, muffled against the soft material of Michael’s dressing gown.

“Well, I think we can safely say you’ve got whatever bug took out half my office last week,” Michael reasoned, a hint of placating humour in his words. “I must have brought it home with me.”

Colin hummed. “Blame Eric, then. Usually his fault.”

Michael snorted, delighted with the dig at his manager who had, in fact, insisted several ill employees show up at work despite having the plague.

“Okay, we can blame Eric,” he agreed. “You can sic Roy on him for me.”

Colin nodded tiredly, his frame sagging into an alarming posture that didn’t bode well for his spine. Michael tutted at him.

“Yeah, I’m definitely not leaving you alone like this. I better go make some calls.”

He shifted, bracing to get up off the floor, and Colin’s hand fisted in his clothes, clinging to him with an embarrassing desperation. “Wait.”

Michael paused obediently. “You alright?”

“Just… stay for a minute?” It was silly. Mortifying, really. Michael had literally just said he was going to rearrange his whole day so he wouldn’t be on his own. But the thought of staying curled up on this bathroom floor without him still left Colin feeling bereft.

Because he was wonderful, and sweet, and everything Colin had ever wanted, Michael just settled back onto the tiles and resumed stroking Colin’s hair.

“Alright,” he soothed. “I’ll help you back to bed once the room stops spinning.”

Colin made a pitiful sound at the reminder and cracked an eye open to observe how wobbly the towel rack still appeared.

“Think that’s a lost cause, mate,” he confided miserably, voice cracking as every brightly coloured surface blended together in his vision.

Michael sighed, words and touch equally fond. “What am I going to do with you?”

#whumptober2023 #no.13 #I don't feel so good #ted lasso #fic #whump vote result #colin hughes #colin/michael #my fic #fic: wrong words #cw illness

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sensei-venus · 2 years ago

Note

Also Yasmine controlling her gf's vibrator while they're out with friends and making her squeal out of nowhere and everyone asking her if she's okay, does she need anything, what wrong. Reader is so nervous, squeezing her legs together while the toy buzzes in her cunt, trying not to get caught. All while Yasmine is smirking and "playing a game" on her phone as she slides the bar down to make the vibe slow down and tease her flustered gf

- gemini sensei

(Unedited) (WlW, Sex Toys, Public Sex, Bathroom Sex, Oral Sex) ( @gemini-sensei )

Reader chewed at he cheek in a feeble attempt to stay quiet.

The vibrator that was deep inside her tight channel was pulsating and keeping her on her toes the whole time.

The fact that Yasmine was able to talk her into going out with the tiny toy inside her was a shock. She had never had the idea go though her mind until Yasmine brought it up. She fiddled with the toy, just looking at it and passing it between her hands for a good few minutes. It was a regular day for the two girlfriends when she asked about it. A smirk on her lips the whole conversation.

“Have you ever thought about going out with this thing in?” She said holding up the small device. The new vibrator they bought not to long ago. It was small and hot pink, smooth to the touch. The blond had used it on the other girl a few times since they bought it, it was fun to play with during their bedroom time. They had only ever used it while they were at home.

Reader blinked and cocked her head to the side. Not fully understanding where this idea was coming from.

“Not really? But then again it is a new toy for us. I never thought about it. Also, what if we got caught?” Her cheeks started to warm up as the ideas passed though her head. The idea of getting caught out in public using a sex toy make her head spin.

“But that’s apart of the fun, the thrill of potentially getting caught!” The blond giggled, her smirk on going. Her eyes lit with a kind of glint that Reader knew wasn’t good. When Yasmine had a naughty thought go through her head or some kind of idea that was out of the norm, that was the look she always had on her face.

Reader chucked lightly before replying “How about I think about it and I’ll let you know if I’m interested in trying this little idea out at some point.” She said before turning back around and going back to what she was doing before. Yasmine pouted as she looked down at the vibrator. She really wanted to use it on her cubby little girlfriend again soon, but this time in public. Getting caught sounded so fun in her head. She couldn’t deny it made her pussy clench at just the mental image of her girlfriend going out with the vibrator plugging up her hole.

For the rest of the day all she could think about was image of Reader squirting under a short skirt in the middle of a crowded place, filled with people. All because of her pressing one button on her phone. Sending the poor girl into a hard orgasm.

It was only a week later when her idea became reality.

Yasmine finally talked her into going out in public with the you inside her. She was ecstatic to try out the new features she had installed with the new app on her phone to control the vibrations and palsies. Doing a doubt take she tried out all the new stuff before getting it ready for Reader to use.

It was simple, they lubed up the small device and slowly but firmly inserted it into Reader’s pussy. Yasmine did her best to gently push the toy in as deep as it could go, making sure it was snug against both her G-spot and her little cervix. The longer they spent making sure everything was in place the more fun it was. Both girls giggled a little as it was inserted, Reader moaning out as Yasmine fingers her open and slipped the toy inside.

Yasmine moaned herself as she felt the girls fat pussy gobble up the vibe. Her walls clench around her thin fingers as she pushes it in.

She plays with the girl's clit with her thumb before spitting on the fat clit. She wants her as wet as possible before the fun actually starts.

She helps her pull up the cute pair of panties she picked out for this special occasion. The frilly lace cups her twitching cunt and molds to her fat ass. Yasmine can't let but give it a small slap to watch it giggle before grabbing a hand full and giving a hard squeeze. Reader yelps but just sighs into the rough treatment. She let's the girl feel her up before pulling up her short skirt.

Within the next hour they are walking around the mall with some of their friends from school. All of them having a fun time as they look at new clothes and shops all around the mall.

The whole time Yasmine has control of the vibrator. She plays with the app once in a while, keeping it on a low setting. It's low enough that no one can hear how it vibrates in Reader’s cunt. She tries her best to act like nothing is wrong, but she can't help but fidget with ever another step she takes. The movement of the toy made her toes curl in her shoes. So far she is winning the little game of not being caught.

Things start to change when they go to sit down in the food court to grab something to eat.

They all sit down with their food after waiting a while in line. All of the girls are talking about things they bought or saw so far at the mall. The idea of new shoes and jackets. One of the girls takes about the new earrings she bought. Reader did her best to listen as she eat. But it grew harder as her pussy clenched and twitched around the hard pink plastic.

The vibrations grew stronger by the minute and it was starting to make her brain foggy. She could even say she was getting a bit dizzy. She tries her best to shut her thighs as tight as possible. Looking over ag her girlfriend from across the table, she noticed the way she was playing on her phone. Her fingers slid across the screen every few minutes, the vibrations in her cunt changing every time. She chewed at her cheeks as she meet Yasmine’s.

She smirked before letting her finger quickly slid over her phone once more.

Reader couldn't help but yelp at a higher speed. The vibrations were right up against her G-spot. Her thighs shake ag the new round of pleasure. It shoots up her spin in just a split second. She's so close.

“Reader are you ok?”

“Y-Yeah sorry I accidentally kicked the table leg, hurt my toe a little. I'm fine.”

Reader says with a small laugh. The other girls at the table just nod and go back to what they were saying.

Yasmine smirks as she notices the way Reader shifts side to side in her chair.

“Reader will you go with me to the restroom, I need to fix my makeup real quick.” Yasmine says in a sweet tone. Fluttering her long eyelashes at the other girl.

“S-sure!” Reader almost too excitedly replies back, already starting to stand up. Her legs are shakey and she worry about leaking pussy juices as she stands up and starts walking work Yasmine. None of the other girls seem to question them as they walk off toward the mall's restrooms.

Yasmine looks around really quickly once they are out of sight from the others. Pulling the chubby girl along as she heads toward the more private family restroom. She is quick to pull herself into the empty room. She locks the door behind them, allowing them to stand in the huge privet bathroom.

“Panties off and foot up on the rail.” Yasmine demands as she points toward the handrail next to the toilet. Reader quickly does as she says, pulling the soaked underwear off and letting them fall to the floor. She places one of her shoes onto the railing, letting her legs and things spread open, allowing her fat pussy to be exposed to the blond. Yasmine bites her lip as she walks over and flips up the skirt she is a wearing.

Her eyes locked on the drooling cunt in front of her. It glistens under the restrooms dim lights, fat globs of cum drip from the twitching vibrating hole. The vibrator still on full power inside her.

“Such a good girl for keeping that toy in the whole time and not making a fuss. I don’t think anyone suspected a thing.” She mumbles as she traces the girls pussy lips. Her folds sloppy and damp with her own nectar. It was warm a sticky between her finger’s.

Reader jerked as she ran a finger over a sensitive spot near her clit. She started to pant the longer Yasmine played with her.

The tight knot in her belly growing hotter and hotter. Ready to burst at any moment. The vibrator in her pussy for over three hours now. The weird feeling of the plastic making her stomach clench and draw up. She felt her knees start to shake.

Any moment she would completely loose it.

“Please! Yas I don’t think I can keep up, I’m going to cum! Please let me cum!” She whimpered out. She tried her best to stay quiet. She hopes no one is walking outside the restroom, between her whimpers and moans, the sound of the vibe was getting louder.

Yasmine fished her phone out of pocket and went into the app she was using to control the toy. She grinned as she placed it on the highest setting. Her eyes never left Readers winking hole.

Reader covered her mouth as she screamed out, her eyes rolling back as her orgasm started. Yasmine places a sturdy and firm hand on her quivering thigh, watching her pussy spasm. Her hips bucked into thin air as she tried to ride out her orgasm. Yasmine watched as suddenly a rush of liquid spurted out of raw cunt.

It gushed and sprayed out, lucky missing Yasmin and splashing onto the dirty bathroom floor. Her eyes glazed over as she watched the puggy girl fall apart.

Suddenly with one hard push fueled by her orgasm, the vibrator shoots out of her pussy and clacks onto the floor. Her hole is gapped and wide. Her insides flushed and soaked. Her cum dripped onto the floor and down her one thigh and leg. Finally, she removed her hand and panted, her hands shaking as she held onto her knee and handrail.

“Holy shit that was hot!” Yasmine exclaims as she watches from under the flowy skirt, eyes sparkling.

Before Reader can even say anything, Yasmine is feasting on the girls destroyed cunt.

The vibrator is long forgotten on the floor, still going.

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