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seresinhangmanjake · 11 months ago

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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Soap's Sister!reader

Summary: Because Johnny found him sleeping with his sister, Simon had to live the last three months without you, but he's about to get his girl back.

warnings/notes: a little smut 18+, cursing, drinking. That's probably it. Oh, typos, im sure, as well.

words: 1830

Part 1

He drinks at the same bar. The one his team practically lived in when they were all together for an evening, but that doesn’t happen anymore, not with the entire group. Johnny stays home if he knows Simon will be attending the night out, and Simon, if informed Johnny wants to be with the team, elects to remove himself from the situation for everyone’s comfort. He figures it’s the least he can do. He’d slept with his best mate’s sister, he’d fallen in love with his best mate’s sister, and so he has taken on the consequences, no matter how infuriating and unreasonable and unfair.

“You want another, Honey?” the bartender asks. She grins. Her eyes shine with desire, as they have all night, and it might be a pleasant sight if Simon had never met you. He might’ve taken her home, fucked her like a toy until he was spent and she was happily ruined by his cock before he kicked her out. But she isn’t you. No woman is you.

“Keep ‘em comin’,” Simon replies, downing the amber liquid in his glass.

Suddenly, the stool beside him slides across the hardwood floor, now occupied by a newcomer he wouldn’t hesitate to shove to their ass if he could do so without causing a scene. What kind of rude bastard risks sitting next to someone when ten other seats are open?

“Actually lass, do me a favor and cut ‘im off. I need ‘im in his right mind.”

Simon almost chokes at Johnny's voice but he doesn’t turn his head as he slowly sets the glass back down on the counter, his fingers tightening around it. Anger, confusion, pain, anxiety. It all crashes over him in a hefty wave, because rolled into this one man is both the friend Simon has missed for months and the asshole who has forced him to be apart from the love of his life. And it’s almost too much to handle at once.

“I’ll take his drink,” Johnny tells the bartender, who has lost all hope now that the man she’s been attempting to charm is no longer lonely enough to be convinced to take her home. When she places the glass in front of him, he takes a sip. “You look like shit, Ghost.”

“What do you want?”

“We got a problem,” Johnny says, getting right to it. “A bit of a disaster, really, and I gave it my best shot, but I can’t fix it.” Simon blinks. His brows pinch. Johnny drains the remainder of the alcohol and wipes his mouth with the back of his forearm. “She’s miserable. And considerin’ the timeline, I’d wager it’s because she’s without you.”

Simon’s heart—though had fallen from his chest months ago—sinks lower into his gut.

“Look, I didn' believe it was that deep,” Johnny continues. “Figured you were jus’ messin’ around. Being stupid and disrespectful with my baby sister. But I cannot have her miserable, Ghost. It won’t do.” He looks at Simon and releases a long sigh. “She loves you. I don’ like it but she does, and you need to make it better.”

“What exactly are you askin’ of me?”

Johnny’s eyes land back on the empty glass. He plants his elbows on the counter and rubs his fingers across his forehead, kneading the wrinkles. “Just…go to her, alright?”

That snaps Simon out of his grumbly attitude. “You serious?”

“Unfortunately,” Johnny says.

Simon practically leaps out of his seat, nearly knocking the stool to the floor as he shrugs on his jacket. He’s almost at the door, but then he stops. Taking a breath, he turns back to his old friend. “Will you be able to handle this?” Simon asks. “Me and her? Because you can't ask me to let her go, Johnny. Not twice.”

Johnny takes a second, then he gives a brief nod. “I’ll adjust. Somehow. With time; lots of time.”

It isn't much reassurance, but it's enough for Simon to be on his way. He rushes out the door, jumps into his truck, and races down the road. He forgets the seatbelt. Ignores the speed limit signs. You don’t live far, and you’re worth the risk if it means getting to you faster.

He knows the elevator in your building is much too slow because he’s been in it a hundred times. He has made out with you in it; fucked you in it, slamming the emergency button so no one could interrupt on the nights you couldn’t wait to get to your bedroom. So he takes the stairs. Two at a time, up eight flights, and down the hall. With a heaving chest, he bangs on your door.

“Love, open up!” He knocks harder. Loud enough to make your neighbor pop her head into the hall to understand the ruckus.

“Oh, wonderful. You've returned,” the old woman huffs. “And just when I was starting to believe I’d never again have to endure listening to that moaning and groaning at all hours.”

“We talked ‘bout this back in June, Mrs. Brimsby. Get yourself some earplugs,” Simon retorts before calling for you again. “Baby, please, it‘s me!”

“I’ll report the two of you for the noise.”

“You probably should. You’re in for a long night.” He hears a scoff but doesn’t bother to glance in the direction it comes from.

“Still so disrespectful,” she spits before slamming the door to her apartment.

Simon has held a low level of hatred for the old bat since the morning after the first time you’d slept together. It was an early Sunday full of soft touches and kisses and tea to nurse the mild hangovers you’d both had because of a couple of drinks the night before—the drinks that allowed the two of you to finally surrender to the sexual tension. After kissing you goodbye, he’d stepped out of your apartment with a smile he hadn't donned in quite some time, only to have it wiped away from the unexpected grandma in a collared nightgown tapping her foot as she stroked the fur of the cat in her arms.

“You kept us up all night,” she had scolded. “We need our sleep.” The cat then hissed for emphasis.

Now, Simon has never been so happy to have that woman blathering in his ear. She reminds him of home, because home is with you and this is where you are. Getting yelled at shoots him into the memories of the time you spent together all those months ago. The stupidly high levels of bliss that, based on the trajectory of his life at the time, he’d assumed was more of a myth than anything. But you had made it real. You had soothed the pain. You were the patch on his wounds; the brightest spot in his life which dimmed the trauma and horrors.

He’s so lost in those thoughts that he doesn’t immediately notice when his banging fist plummets through the air.

“Si?”

At your voice, Simon’s mind instantly clears. His eyes meet yours.

“Fucking finally,” he mutters, not letting a beat go by before he’s bending at the knees, wrapping his arms around your waist, and lifting you up. Instinctually, your arms snake around his neck, your legs circle his hips, and he feels his cock begin to swell from the reminder of how natural that action is for you. How right it is that you fit together like lock and key.

Many questions are brewing in your eyes, but you don’t ask them. You kiss him instead, hard and thoroughly as he carries you into your apartment and kicks the door closed behind him. When he sits you atop your kitchen counter and settles himself between your spread legs, his hands go everywhere; under your sleep shirt, up the curves of your body to squeeze your breasts then back down to your hips. His palms slide around to your ass and jerk you closer so the center of those thin little shorts is pressed against the mound protruding from his jeans.

Buttons scatter across the tile from his impatience, unwilling to delicately undo each tiny closure of your shirt. Your fingers trickle lower on his body to the belt buckle you quickly undo and the zipper you harshly yank down. He’s about to tell you to lift your hips, but you do so without his command, shimmying out of your shorts, and Simon takes the chance to do the same, pushing his pants just below his ass. He springs free, the heavy column of flesh landing at your navel.

Leaning back, you guide his cock through the slickness of puffy lips into your tight, clenching walls. It sucks the air from his lungs. His head falls to your shoulder as you both try to breathe at a steady pace. His hands brace on the counter on either side of your body, nails digging into the granite. Home.

“Simon…baby, you have to move,” you pant. “I c-can’t take it.”

“I’ve got you,” he whispers in your ear before lifting his head and placing a quick peck on your mouth. Shifting his hips, he pulls out and then slowly eases himself back inside of you. His groan drowns out the sweet song of your moan. “I’ve got you, love.”

—

“Your neighbor still hates us, jus’ so you know,” Simon says as he slides under the sheets. Were he not so exhausted, he’d chuckle at the idea of being beside you in your bed and not immediately trying to fuck you, but after the kitchen counter, then the couch, then the living room floor, you’re both worn out and in need of a good night's sleep. “Probably more now than she did before.”

Normally, you would have found his words amusing, but you remain silent on your back, staring straight up at the ceiling. Simon raises a brow and flips onto his side. Then he sees the tear slip from the corner of your eye down to your ear.

“What're you thinkin' about, love?” he asks as he places his hand on your cheek and turns your face toward his.

“I'm scared,” you tell him. “I've missed you so much, but the second you leave, everything will go back to how it was without you. That broke me the first time, Si. How do I go through it all over again?”

His eyes pinch tight and he sighs in shame. He should have told you. It should have been the first thing out of his mouth, but then he saw you and he needed you and that was all that mattered in the moment. “Baby,” he begins, brushing the hair back from your face. “I'm not leaving you, and we are not goin’ back to that, ok?”

“But Johnny—”

“We don't need to worry about Johnny.”

Your eyes widen. “What? Why not?”

“Because, love,” Simon says, his hand finding the middle of your back and snuggling you into his chest, “Johnny sent me.”

@universitypenguin @ghostslittlegf

#simon ghost riley #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley fic #cod ghost #cod fic #mw2

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bloatedandalone04 · 1 year ago

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The Only Reason

➪the one where leon finally gives you some much needed closure after four months of feeling nothing but regret from what he did.

Warnings: angst, fluff, making out, swearing, mentions of cheating, cheating, toxic relationships, mentions of a bad past, mentions of weight loss, all the ada slander in the world because i actually cannot stand her, mentions of unwanted sexual attention (from ada to leon), unwanted intimacy (from ada to leon), eating disorders (implied)

Word Count: 5.2k | Part 1

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

The loud music and thumping of the walls were the last thing on Leon’s mind as he scanned every single room of the house. Chris decided to throw a housewarming party for Claire at her new place, and of course Leon was invited.

Leon refused the initial invitation, but quickly changed his mind when Chris told him that you would be there. It seemed as though the brunet had long since grown sick of his friend’s moping and knew he had to do something about it.

Pretty much everyone that Leon knew was here, yet he couldn’t seem to find you. The house wasn’t big, and it didn’t have very many rooms, but it seemed like it was still impossible to locate you. Not that he even had a right to.

If he does manage to find you, what would he even say? “I’m sorry for everything, and for letting you leave without trying to fight for you. Also, I don’t blame you for ignoring my calls and not texting me back, I deserve that.”

He couldn’t remember the last time he sounded that desperate. Back when he was a dumb twenty one year old, he supposed.

Leon has been here for over an hour now, and he still hasn’t seen you once. He was beginning to think that Chris lied to him just to get him out of the house he used to share with you. While he wouldn’t put it past him, Leon wanted to give Chris the benefit of the doubt and believe that he had good intentions when he invited him to this thing.

Nearly giving up on his search, Leon heads back to the kitchen, where Jill hands him a bottle of beer. She leans against the counter and he does the same, his eyes still expertly scanning the room, just in case. “Hey, Kennedy,” she greets as she sips on her own beer. “Haven’t seen you in a while. Been busy with work?”

Leon shrugs, his face almost emotionless. “Yeah,” he lied. Of course he had been going to work and successfully completing missions, but he hadn’t left the house outside of that. Work usually took up a good portion of his time, and the rest of it was spent thinking about how badly he fucked things up with you.

It wasn’t even worth it. Ada.

He hadn’t seen her since he broke off their little agreement a month before he confessed to you, despite her texting him and asking to meet up so he can fuck her in exchange for information he thought was worth more than you.

It really wasn’t.

He’s been ignoring her texts for months now, just like how you’ve been ignoring his.

Leon had never blocked someone’s number ever in his life, but Ada was about to be the first if she didn’t take the hint and leave him the fuck alone.

As much as he wanted to put all the blame on her, he knew it was half his own fault, as well. He couldn’t believe he had gone back to Ada Wong when he had you, his entire world, waiting for him at home.

He knew he would never forgive himself, even if you somehow managed to move on and forgive him for the worst mistake he had ever made in his twenty nine years of living.

Four months.

It’s been four months and he was still beating himself up for what he did to you.

“Yeah, Chris and I are looking into this new virus that is spreading down in Oxford. The cases have been going up daily, might be something you can help out with,” she offered, leaning closer to him so he could hear her better over the loud music. “You’re more experienced with viruses than anyone else I know.”

Leon gave her a tight lipped smile. “Sure, Jill,” he replied. “Whatever you need.”

“Great,” she says as she finishes off her beer. “You staying long? I never took you as the party type.”

He really wasn’t. He hadn’t been to a party since he was nineteen. Even the frat parties he was invited to were boring, so he never had the urge to go to anymore after the age of twenty. Until now, because he was told that you would be here.

And he wanted to see you so badly.

“I’m not, really,” he agreed and brought the bottle up to his mouth. “I just thought someone I know would be here-”

He wasn’t able to take a sip of the alcohol before his eyes landed on you as soon as you entered the room.

All words had died on his tongue and the bottle was raised half way before his hand froze.

You looked beautiful. Your cute white dress fit you well and showed off the concerning amount of weight you had lost. He hadn’t seen you that small since the beginning of your relationship, back when you didn’t know how to take care of yourself and listen to your body’s warnings.

Leon felt his heart constrict at the thought of you going back to your old ways of ignoring the signs your body tried giving you. You were barely getting by when he met you, and you hadn’t gone completely back to that since leaving him, if your makeup and pretty hair were anything to go by.

You hadn’t given up on yourself entirely, and that gave him enough hope that you would be okay. Even if he was given the chance to talk to you and explain things, he knew you weren’t completely broken like you were when you first started dating, and that you would be fine if you decided to never forgive him.

Looking as shy as ever, you inch further into the room, seeming to have not noticed Leon yet as you ventured over to the bottles of booze that had been set out on the counter. “Oh, shit, is that Y/n?” Jill asked as she squinted in your direction. “I didn’t know she was coming, but that pretty much explains why you’re here. Are you okay?”

Leon watched as you browsed through the drink options, dropping his arm back to his side and not caring about the beer that splashed onto his hand at the quick movement. He didn’t take his eyes off you as he slowly shook his head, a quiet “No,” leaving his mouth afterwards.

Jill looked between the two of you, unsure of what to say. “Do you want to move to another room?”

Leon shook his head again. “No. You said it yourself, Jill. This is why I’m here,” he muttered and watched as a younger guy moved to stand next to you. He helped you pour a large amount of vodka mixed with ginger ale into a cup, and he quickly recognized the guy as one of the new agents Claire had befriended named Kegan.

Kegan stepped closer to you and Leon could instantly tell that you were uncomfortable. He knew you like the back of his hand and could tell when you got nervous or anxious, like how you are right now.

Leon stood up straight and placed the untouched bottle of beer behind him on the counter before making his way across the kitchen.

Within four strides he is behind you and towering over Kegan, who noticed Leon long before you did. “Kennedy? Leon Kennedy is actually at a party? Wow, never thought I’d see the day,”

Leon glared at him and it was then when you realized who was standing behind you. “You don’t know me,” Leon stated as you turned to face him, but he just kept his eyes on Kegan. Leon had quite the reputation at work, and he was well known as the guy who is more than capable of completing any mission, no matter how tough it may be.

That being said, his superiority often annoyed the new guys as they tried to live up to the high expectations and standards of Leon Kennedy.

“And you don’t know her, but I do, and I know she wants you to leave her alone but is far too nice to actually say that to you, so I’ll do it for her,” Leon continued and felt his heart skip a beat at the quiet gasp that left your lips.

Kegan looked between you and Leon, and more specifically the protective look in his eyes, before backing away with his hands up. “My bad, man,” he shrugged. “Didn’t realize she was with you.”

He disappeared in the crowd as you turned completely to face your ex. “You didn’t need to do that,” you muttered and Leon could feel his face heat up at the fact that you were actually talking to him. You wore an annoyed look, but still, you’re talking to him. “I could’ve done that myself.”

Leon forced a grin to form on his lips. “But I bet you’re glad I did it, instead,” when you just shook your head and began to leave the kitchen, Leon stepped in front of you, refraining from grabbing your hand like he so desperately wanted to. “Wait, please.”

“What, Leon?” You asked and you sounded so exhausted, it made his heart physically break a bit. “What could you possibly have to say to me right now?”

“Everything,” he answered instantly. “I want to say everything I didn’t say the day you left. Please, give me a chance.”

You narrow your eyes and cross your arms. “It’s been months, Leon,”

“Four,” he confirmed, watching the brief shock that flashed across your face. “And I’ve thought about you everyday for every one.”

You give him a conflicted look that is quickly followed by a sigh. “There is nothing you can say that will fix what happened, just so you know,”

Leon nodded and held his hand out to you, surprise filling him when you actually took it. “I just need you to know that it wasn’t your fault, and that it’s all on me,” he promised as he led you towards the front door, missing Chris’ look of relief as he passed him.

While he didn’t know the full story of what his friend did to you, he knew Ada had been involved in the reason you were no longer together. Chris was never a fan of Ada and how she treated Leon whenever the two crossed paths, and he was sure the blond felt the same way after being her little pet for years. He was sure the two of you would end up getting married, so he could not fathom how the fuck Leon had let Ada get in the way of what you and he had.

All in all, he was sick of Leon’s bad moods, and wanted his friend to go back to normal. Well, as normal as Leon Kennedy could be.

Leon led you out onto the front porch, and with one look from him, the two guys who were standing out there quickly scampered back into the house. Once you were alone, he turned back to face you with guilty eyes, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to figure out what to say to you.

He had wanted the chance to talk to you again for months, and now that you are actually here in front of him he was blanking.

But he wouldn’t let his inability to form a proper sentence be what cost him his once chance at explaining to you why he did what he did.

An apology would be a good place to start, right?

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly as he finally allowed himself to look into your guarded eyes. You looked at him as if he were a stranger, and he supposed he kind of is now. The person you both thought he was would’ve never done what he did to you, no matter how important those fucking files were. “I’m a fucking idiot.”

You nod and lean back against the railing, crossing your arms as you stare at him with a soft glare. “I’m really glad we agree on that,”

He knew he deserved that. He deserved worse, actually, but you were simply too kind to completely go off on him, and he simply never deserved you in the first place. “That’s fair, you’re being hostile,” he mumbled and felt his skin begin to heat up under his dark leather jacket. “I know I have no right to even be talking to you right now, but I just need you to know that what I did with Ada was the worst thing I have ever done, and I’ve done a lot of bad shit in my life. None of them cost me you, though, so they’re not very high on that list.”

You tense up at the name you’ve hated since the second you heard it, and the mention of her sent your insecurities right back to the front of your mind. “Yeah, well,” you trail off, kicking a stone that was on the porch away from you as you avoid his stare. “I hope she was worth it, because I haven’t been able to wrap my head around the fact that Ada fucking Wong is the reason the best relationship I had ever been in ended.”

“She wasn’t worth it,” he said instantly, taking a cautious step towards you. “She was never worth it, even back when I was a stupid twenty one year old and trying to start my career. She never cared, and I wasn’t smart enough to see that. I’m not smart at all. If I had half a brain I would’ve never gone back to her ever again.”

You shake your head. “You can say that now, but it doesn’t change anything,” you mumbled. “You cheated on me with the one person I’ve been worried about since day one. You promised me that she was in your past, and that you were over her. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to believe that. Guess we’re both fucking dumb.”

“No,” he said sternly. “You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met. Ada hasn’t had control over my heart for a long time now, it’s always been you. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the day we met, and that was years ago. I know I fucked up, but I’ve never stopped believing that you’re it for me. I don’t want anyone else, and that was clear after I met you.”

Your lip was quivering just slightly and you blinked back tears, trying to stick to your promise of never crying over the man in front of you ever again. You weren’t sure how much longer you could keep that promise if you were to continue to talk to him. “Then why did you do it? Why did you ruin what we had?” You regretfully ask and quickly add, “And I want the truth, not some bullshit story you always seem to come up with. Be honest with me, Leon.”

Leon really felt pathetic at this point as he felt his heart jump a bit at the fact that you said his name. He missed you so much, he missed hearing your voice, and he missed the way his name sounded when it came out of your mouth.

He knew his answer wouldn’t satisfy you at all, but he said it anyway, “It was just about work,”

“Oh, don’t give me that,” you say angrily, wiping under your eyes before he could see your tears. “Don’t waste anymore of my time, Leon. I refuse to spend another second with you if you’re just going to lie to me. You’ve done that enough.”

Leon shut up after that, shifting from one foot to the other and beginning to feel anxious. He shouldn’t feel this way around you. He had known you for four years and been with you for three, he should feel comfortable around you, but he supposed he lost that right, too.

At his lack of words, you turn away and are about to head back inside when he grabs your wrist and pulls you away from the door. “Y/n, wait,” he begs, blue eyes clouding over with desperation as he stares hopelessly down at you. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. There are no words that could ever describe it. I hate that I hurt you and I hate that I fucked up the best thing I had going for me. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

You fell silent as your eyes flickered from his lips then back to his eyes.

What if….for just one more night…what if.

“I should’ve never let you walk out that day without explaining to you that it was all my fault, just like how I should’ve never let Ada come anywhere near me. But I’m weak,” he was saying all the words he should have said to you the day he confessed that he had been seeing Ada. God, even her name made a feeling of disgust creep into his bones. “I’ve always been weak when it comes to you and my job and everything. I’m not cut out for this kind of thing, but you made me feel like I was. I can’t believe I took that for granted.”

Your eyes burned once again and you moved to lean back against the railing when he inched closer.

“You’re everything to me, sweetheart,” he sounded so genuine, you almost thought you could believe him. He placed his hands on the railing behind you and leaned down so his face was close to yours. “You always will be. She is, by far, the biggest mistake of my life and I promise that I haven’t seen her since. I can’t stand even thinking about her-”

He wasn’t able to finish that sentence as you leaned in and pressed your mouth to his.

Just one more night.

You just needed one more night with him, one where you could pretend you were still happy and still in love. One where you were still oblivious to the affair he was having with his ex…or whatever the fuck they were.

Just one more night to fuck him out of your system, then you’ll never have to see him again after this.

Leon got lost in the feeling of having your lips on his for the first time in months. His hands immediately grip your waist and his body presses right up against your own.

He missed you more than anything else in the entire world. Every single inch of you, he craved it everyday. He was so fucking angry with himself for how he destroyed your relationship and for how he hurt you after he swore he wouldn’t. After he swore he was different.

Really, he wasn’t far off from the assholes you had given your heart to in the past, even though he tried so hard to be.

His fingers bunch up the fabric of your dress and he wanted to take you right there, right against the railing of his friend’s new porch, but you deserved more than that. He wanted to give you more than that.

Your hands slide up to tangle in his hair and he never thought he’d ever get to feel your soft yet firm touch again. He couldn’t help but melt into it.

Your lower back pressed against the cool metal and the contrast of it had you gasping against his mouth.

Leon groaned at your quiet sound of pleasure and couldn’t deny how it went straight to his dick. Sometimes he really hated being a man who had no control over that part of his body. “Missed that sound,” he mumbled against your mouth. “Missed everything about you, pretty girl.”

You moan into his mouth and he swallows it like the greedy man he is. “Take me home, Leon,”

It was like a switch had been flipped. He pulled away but kept his hands on your hips. Now that he had gotten a taste of you again, he never wanted to let you go. But he needed to focus on why he sought you out tonight. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he trails off, noting the brief look of embarrassment that flashed in your eyes. “I don’t want you to think that this is all I wanted out of-”

“I want it, Leon,” you cut him off, pulling him closer by his jacket. “I want you. I know you don’t want me anymore, but-”

He shook his head and pressed another kiss to your lips, against his better judgment. “I do still want you, baby,” he promised. “I want you, always.”

You bite down on your lip and don’t miss the way his eyes flicker downwards when you do so. “Then take me home,” you pressed, watching as he seems to have an inner battle with himself.

You weren’t sure what result you wanted out of this; him agreeing and getting you off one last time, or him rejecting you of what he so gladly took from Ada.

Either way would provide you with some closure, you’d hope.

A few more seconds pass before he’s moving away and taking your hand. He leads you to his car and drives the familiar road to the house you lived in with him not too long ago.

As he guided you through the very door you walked out of the day he told you what he did, he gave you a conflicted look as he said, “Just so you know, this isn’t all I want from you. I meant everything I said before,”

You give him a blank look as you move closer to him. “I don’t care,”

Leon looked like he was in agony as you grabbed his jacket and pulled it from his body. “Don’t say that,” he begged. “Please.”

You don’t say anything else as you pull on his hands and walk backwards until your knees hit the edge of the couch. Sitting on the armrest, you run your fingers down his toned chest and try to remember that this will be a one time thing. He wasn’t yours and this wouldn’t be like all the other times you and he had been intimate.

“I don’t want to talk anymore,” you whisper, grabbing his wrist and guiding his hand to your chest. “So please, don’t say anything else.”

Leon could only nod, regret filling him at what he knew he made run through your head. You thought this was all he wanted, when in reality he just wanted you back.

He leaned down and gently grabbed either side of your face as he kissed you deeply, pushing you back against the very couch you broke up with him on four fucking months ago.

It was too much, but he couldn’t stop. He was too afraid you’d leave him forever if he did. He really was fucking weak when it came to you. He was selfish.

He wanted you back so badly, his brain couldn’t keep up with his body. His lips were placing kisses desperately to your mouth as he felt your legs wrap around his waist.

Leon wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to function again if you were to never talk to him after this. He didn’t even want to think about it.

But it seemed as if you were doing the opposite.

He kissed along your neck for a few seconds before hearing a sharp intake from you that was followed by the push of your hands against his shoulders. “Wait,” you nearly gasp, sitting up when he instantly pulls away from you, proving to you that he is at least a little better than your past boyfriends. They would have ignored you and continued touching you until they got what they wanted.

Leon stood back and put a bit of distance between the two of you, his eyes guilty and his heart on his sleeve. “I’m sorry,” he says and you just shake your head, straightening your dress back out.

“No, I initiated this. I’m sorry, I don’t know what got into me,” you apologize and stand up. “I should go. This was a mistake.”

Leon felt his heart break as you quickly stood up and made your way to the door. He got flashbacks to the day you left him, and he knew he wasn’t prepared to see you walk out that door for the second time.

Maybe he didn’t have to.

You passed by the counter and abruptly stopped, your eyes fixated on something on the granite. Leon held his breath as he watched you move towards the island, your hand reaching out to grab his keys. “Leon,” you gasped quietly, your fingers gently moving something on the chain. He knew what was on it. The ring haunted him every time he used his keys, and that was the exact reason why he attached it to the chain in the first place.

He stayed still when you turned to look back at him, his keys held tightly in your hand.

“You kept it?” You asked in a hoarse voice. You would recognize that ring anywhere, even after only seeing it one time. You couldn’t believe he kept it instead of selling it, and you were heartbroken to discover that he saw it every day whenever he entered or left his house.

Your question offended him, but he’d never show it. “Of course I kept it,” and yet another flashback flickered in his head.

You weren’t sure you wanted the answer, but you asked, anyway, “Why?”

Leon hardly moved as he answered, “As a reminder,”

And it was the truth.

And then you broke your promise as the first of many tears began to fall.

You wished you never met him. Never said yes when he asked you out on a date, said no when he asked you to move in. You wished you didn’t agree to come to that stupid housewarming party, because now you felt lost all over again.

Setting the keys loudly on the counter, you turn to face him fully. “Why?” You asked, your voice angry and shaky as you tried to keep your cool. “Why did you do it? I loved you more than anything else. You saved my life, Leon. Why didn’t that mean anything to you?”

Leon felt his own eyes burn as he stepped away from the couch but made no move to walk over to you. “It means the world to me, Y/n,” he promised, his heart begging his body to take you into his arms, but he held back. “So do you.”

Your lower lip trembled as you moved to stand in front of him. “Why?” You ask again, much quieter this time around. You reach up and push on his chest just slightly, knowing damn well it wouldn’t faze him one bit. And it didn’t. “Why did you go to her?”

Leon refrained from taking your hands that were still on his chest in his. “Because she had something I needed,” he regretfully answered.

Your brows furrow and he knew he accidentally offended you with his poor choice of words. “What, I wasn’t good enough? Didn’t put out enough for you?”

“No,” he said immediately, going against his better judgment again and wrapping his fingers around your wrists. “You’re more than enough for me. You always have been and you will be forever. The thought of doing that with her made me sick and I hate myself for it, but it was the only way she would give me the information I needed for my job.”

Your eyes softened a bit but your whole body was still guarded. “Your job you can’t tell me anything about?”

“Yes,” he whispered, his face twisting up in agony when more tears fell from your eyes. “That’s the only reason I went to her. She had something I needed, but if I ever had to do it all over again, I’d tell her to fuck off and I’d get it some other way. I can’t stand the fact that I hurt you like that.”

You tried to process his words, but you didn’t know what to think anymore.

You believed him, and it was clear he felt awful about all that came out of his encounters with Ada. But you also weren’t sure what he wanted out of this encounter with you. Yeah, it appeared he wanted to fix things, but who’s to say he won’t shatter your heart again?

You couldn’t take much more. You knew that.

“It was just for work?” You asked quietly, avoiding his eyes as he pressed your hand flat against his chest. “You’re not in love with her?”

“No,” he said quickly, shaking his head to further get the point across. “No. I don’t love her, not anymore. Maybe I never did. She never made me feel the things you did and still do. My heart was never hers. It’s yours. Even after tonight, I’ll still be yours, even if you aren’t mine.”

Your eyes were begging for a break, but the tears kept coming. “My heart is yours, Leon. It’s yours to break,” you whisper. “And you did.”

He couldn’t stop himself from taking you into his arms. He wrapped you up and let out a sigh of relief when you let him, and even held onto his waist. “I’m so fucking sorry,” he says, kissing the side of your head. “So fucking sorry. I swear, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I’d use my last breath for you, baby. You’re my entire world. You’re everything.”

“Leon,” you beg, bunching his shirt up in your fists. “Don’t do this to me again. Don’t hurt me again, I-....I can’t take it.”

“I won’t,” he promised, cradling the back of your head in his hand as if you were the most frail and fragile thing in the world. “I love you so much. It’s you who I want for the rest of my life. I never doubted that. I never want you to doubt that.”

You nod and press your head to his chest. “It’s going to take some time,” you begin, your voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe a lot of time-”

“I’ll wait forever for you,” he swore, leaning back and pressing a kiss to your forehead. He was shaking now, disbelief filling his entire being at the fact that you were letting him hold you like this again.

You look over at his keys before meeting his eyes again. “I won’t forget about what you did, Leon,” you murmur, watching the guilt seep back into his blue orbs. “But I’m willing to forgive….I just need time.”

Leon nodded, wrapping you back up in his arms. “I’ll give you all the time you need, I promise,” he rasps. “Just don’t leave me again.”

He had no right asking you that, but he also had no control over his words at this point.

But you just pressed your lips to the side of his neck. “Don’t give me another reason to,”

#leon #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon re #re4 leon #leon smut #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy imagines #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil 4 #resident evil 2 remake #resident evil x reader #angst

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felassan · 8 months ago

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Snippets. 🐺💜 DA:TV spoilers under cut.

Carly: Lucanis is "pretty average [height] everyone else is ridiculously tall" [source]

John: "getting absolutely dummied by an encounter in the game you work on as your day job is a uniquely humbling experience" [source] Trick: "Me desperately doing side quests to bulk up before the next big critpath beat because I KNOW I am not currently good enough at Rogue to beat that meat grinder at my current level and gear without dropping the difficulty back down." [source]

John: "hands up if you’re in game dev and have ever caught yourself searching Google for a guide to the game you’re working on that’s not even out yet" [source]

Flaming greatswords? ^^ [source]

Jay: "God, I remember the concept art for this scene" [source] (the scene in the gameplay reveal when Solas sheds a tear when it fails)

Kala: "Thinking back to playing Dragon Age Veilguard with the Council and all the fun we had, the crying (mostly me) and the shock at some of the surprises (especially Caitie) and I can't believe that's gonna be the entire fanbase soon. I can't wait to experience it with everyone" [source]. "I genuinely cannot wait for everyone to see Veilguard. I *know* for a fact there is going to be things people will freak out about, just like we did. There's A LOT people will love. Everyone will have stuff they don't like, which is inevitable, but there's so much to love" [source] Caitie: "Holding hands and sharing headphones because i unlocked the [redacted] scene first ❤️ Fond memories 😭😭" [source]

Trick on some of the chairs in the Lighthouse library group screenshot: "As much as I ADORE the idea of Solas sneaking out of Skyhold with a U-Haul packed to the brim with furniture and all the good mage gear you gave him, I expect it's likely just a common Fereldan style." [source]

Caitie: "If it helps- ive also seen silly ‘head canons’ and jokes thats will end up true haha" [source]

Caitie: "I'm not sure if we can say where we ended up in the story- but we got farther than the GI guy did it seems! By quite a bit. Did not get close to finishing it, however." [source]

Kala: "Pssst… we saw the companion rooms and the Lighthouse and it was really something amazing 👀👀" [source]

edit/update:

here are some more snippets which were posted by the Dragon Age official YouTube account in the livechat on one of the videos last month:

"There are lots of hairstyle options, we’ll have much more to share on the character creator in the coming weeks!"

"It wouldn’t be a Dragon Age game without a visit to the Deep Roads!"

"Our team spent a lot of timing refining combat and making it feel fluid and fun whether you play as a Warrior, a Mage, or a Rogue"

"It wouldn’t be a Dragon Age game without consequences! Your choices will influence the world of Thedas, as well as relationships with your companions"

A user asked "Are you a Fen’Harel spy?" Dragon Age replied "👀"

#dragon age: the veilguard #dragon age the veilguard spoilers #dragon age: dreadwolf #dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #da4 #dragon age #bioware #video games #solas #long post #longpost

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babypinkhearts · 1 year ago

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spare me this - anakin skywalker

pairing: anakin skywalker + fem!reader

summary: the council assigns you on a deathly solo mission, forbidding anakin to join you.

warnings: angst (i don’t know what is wrong with me!! i am addicted to writing it now), mentions of injury and death, anakin is so sweet and sosososo in love it’s almost pitiful, fluff

a/n: i feel like i put a part of my soul in this. i feel so drained but finishing this feels SO rewarding. another day for firsts! this is my first time writing for anakin, or anything star wars related :) this has been sitting in my drafts for MONTHS. i figured, while i still feel motivated to write, let me finish this!!! hope you all enjoy <3 i loved writing it

“three days.” you repeated faintly.

you disliked how quiet anakin was at times. it often left you more troubled than relaxed.

you frowned when he didn’t look at you from his stubborn stare at the ceiling. sighing softly, you mimicked his eyes and looked upwards, your neck rested against the headboard of the bed.

“we will come back victorious, and we will be right here. together again.”

the night before your mission’s departure, you slept in anakin’s room. it would have been much easier to ignore him, act like he didn’t exist for a while. the two of you were far too dependent on one another. the love sometimes felt overwhelming.

however, anakin’s fear was far too evident. it was strong - too strong to the point where you genuinely believed someone else could detect it. you decided that if you could soothe his worries, he’d be relieved of his thoughts.

but anakin didn’t speak. he refused, and his body simply forbid him from trying. not a touch or word was directed at you. it had almost been an hour of pure silence.

unbeknownst to you, there was a helpless feeling of uncertainty that anakin could clearly sense from you. that was what was driving him crazy.

bloodshed was a promise, you already knew it. your master had spoken grimly about the mission, and it was anakin who realized - much quicker than you - that this battle would not end seamlessly.

there was a large, if not, inevitable chance of you coming back alarmingly injured.

you were calculated, strong, and reliable. it was you who the council had chosen to lead the mission.

they were selfish, anakin believed.

“obi-wan knows this will kill me.”

anakin bleakly spoke, his voice muffled by the blanket he had brought up to his face. you decided against expressing your surprise to the sound of his voice.

while obi-wan had no idea about the true nature of your relationship with anakin, he was aware that you served as each other’s weaknesses. jedi code called for the banishment of any attachments, though obi-wan knew he himself had begun to break them when he started to form a brotherly bond with his once-padawan. he held no room for judgement.

while you hadn’t spent nearly as much time with him as anakin had, you felt very fond of him. there was a certain soothing atmosphere that only seemed to arrive in his presence.

secretly, obi-wan had pulled you aside mere hours after your mission was announced. his voice was low as he spoke, and he had gently held your arm the entire time.

“you come back within your scheduled arrival, and everything will be fine. i cannot promise you we will be at ease if you take longer.”

and, of course, through unknowing ears this was a simple comment - a statement of encouragement, really. but it was a completely different story when you could see the true intentions in his words.

anakin would not be at ease, is what he had wanted to say.

and obi-wan was right. from the moment you explained your mission to anakin, he had gone silent. you had been in your room, slowly walking in circles as you counted the tasks you were required to fulfill on your journey.

you hadn’t noticed how awfully pale your jedi had become.

now in present, you realized he had never left his stage of shock.

anakin hated this. he hated how guilty he felt for the resentment he had towards your capabilities. you had impressed the council too much, and it had put you in a dangerous position. he hated how careless you tried to sound, and he hated how you only gave the reply of “yes, master” when being told the instructions of your suicide mission. most importantly, he hated how he was forbidden to join you.

“how do i live? how do i function when you could be dead at any moment?”

you froze, eyes widening.

anakin’s words were cold, and you fought the urge to feed into his frighteningly grim thoughts.

pursing your lips briefly, you forced a smile, brushing back his hair from his forehead. anakin was laying on his back, eyes still narrow and focused upwards. you tried to keep the mood light, attempting to add a little amusement to calm the tense atmosphere his question had made.

“we’re both aware i’m capable enough to handle myself. i used to beat you during training, and i saved you from-“

your playful smile faded, and you gave up talking once you realized he had started to look up at you.

anakin knew you were strong. he didn’t need to hear your reassurance, especially when he knew even you were undoubtedly terrified.

for a while, he just stared at you. it wasn’t intimidating - he could never direct an emotion like that at you - but you felt exposed, almost as if you should shield your face.

anakin felt troubled, trying to piece together all his discomforting emotions clearly. to have you so close seemed to be a punishment. you shouldn’t be here. he shouldn’t be seeing the worry in your eyes, or watching the slight furrow of your brows. although, there was something so beautiful about your concern. he wasn’t made to feel these kinds of emotions, especially ones that one mere person could provide.

for a moment, he wished he didn’t know you. selfishly, he knew that would relieve him of the pain.

“anakin,”

his name that only ever sounded right when you said it.

“what’s the matter, ani?”

there were no protests made when you moved closer to him. the security and serenity he felt with your arms around him made it feel impossible to refuse.

anakin trusted you with his life. he’d give you his life in a heartbeat. he’d do anything for you. and yet - why couldn’t you help him believe you would be okay on this mission? it was cruel, picking on his one and only weakness. his heart, which you held so effortlessly. his mind consisted of you, you, you.

with a shaky sigh, he spoke.

“you’re scaring me.” he quietly admitted.

his eyes were glossy, nearing a depressive red. his stare was piercing. you weren’t sure you wanted his attention anymore.

confused, though mostly alarmed, you continued to look back at him. scaring him?

“you think you’re going to die, don’t you?”

your eyes widened, and suddenly you felt very vulnerable being in front of him.

“anakin - what?” you stumbled out, shaking your head in surprise. he couldn’t be serious. you attempted to talk, reassure him that you would be fine, but his gaze was unfocused. he didn’t want to listen to your futile words. anakin knew you better than anyone else.

“please, do not lie to me.” he whispered, and in that particular moment, you had never seen him so small. “spare me that.”

anakin skywalker, the reckless jedi who consistently charmed his way through trouble. someone who was so spontaneous, yet brilliant.

love kept him going. it wasn’t unrequited. he knew that more than anything. love got him up in the morning. love was adrenaline. love was everything and so much more.

he couldn’t bare losing it.

“i-“ you shook your head again, pausing briefly to lay beside him. a hand was placed on his cheek, and you caressed his face gently.

anakin’s eyes closed, and once more he felt a wave of anger pass through him. he hated the council, he hated the jedi. he hated everything to do with this. they were trying to take you from him. your sweet touches, your soft voice, your caring nature. he felt so bitter it hurt.

you pursed your lips, letting a sigh escape you.

“i will tell you this.“ you whispered, cupping a hand around his soft face. “i am scared. i act like i am not because that is what i must do.”

for the past couple of hours, anakin had assumed that hearing you admit your fear out loud would put his mind at ease. maybe, if you admitted you weren’t invincible, he could convince you to take extra care of yourself.

but your words had the opposite effect on him.

you were scared. and he wouldn’t be there to help.

“i cannot promise you i’ll be unscathed, anakin, but i can promise that i will come back to you.”

it took everything in you to not break in front of him.

you forbid him from continuing the conversation further after that.

when the morning you had dreaded arrived, you silently awaited for a signal on your commlink to commence your departure.

you had left anakin, quietly pleading for him to stay optimistic during your absence. he had helped you get dressed. his touch was like a feather, gently escorting you to a hell you could only hope would be generous to you.

weapons were hidden under your robes, as usual. two lightsabers, because you had learned from anakin years ago that an extra could never hurt.

you couldn’t help but wonder if he felt possibly felt guilty.

anakin had trained you, hoping that an increase in your skill would payoff on the battlefield to solely keep you safer when he wasn’t around.

but you had surpassed his expectations. and now, you were in this position.

it had been an honor to be praised so highly. though, you quickly found that, in reality, it was not something to completely look forward to. anakin’s worry being the main reason.

when your commlink finally sounds off, you waste no time in leaving.

three days, you had claimed to anakin.

when you finally return, a week had gone by.

and just like you had repeated to anakin so many times before - you were victorious.

though, not unscathed.

“medical-“ you breathed heavily, your hand glued to your side as you stepped out of your starfighter, your heart pounding in upmost fear as you realized your vision had begun to blur.

you couldn’t tell who grabbed you first. it wasn’t anakin, you knew that by muffled noise of calm reassurance. if anakin were here, he would have the entire building burned to the ground in seconds. if it weren’t for the excruciating pain you felt everywhere, you could have chuckled at the thought.

“requesting medical attention - yes, this is urgent.”

blinking as quickly as you could, which looked evidently labored, you watched as obi-wan spoke through his commlink.

yours had broken days ago, leaving you stranded with no communication. retreating was never an option in your mind, and you stupidly had fought until your mission had succeeded.

the consequences of your actions truly haunted you as you were lifted on to a table, the strong scent of medication telling you that, yes, your wound was as bad as it felt, if not worse.

and finally, the mask put over your mouth lulled you to a more painless state of sleep.

upon the first few seconds of opening your eyes, you tried to immediately close them again.

of course, anakin was right next to you.

you heard him jolt in his seat, repeatedly calling your name as if you would die if he stopped. his voice sounded hoarse. gently, you reached your arms out, silently begging for him to touch you. you needed his embrace. you can not have gone through all this effort for nothing. he was why you had tried so hard to survive. without a word, anakin complied to your silent request. his hands cupped your face, while yours did the same to him.

his chest was shaking with uneven breaths.

“i made it back - just like i said, right?” you spoke quietly, smiling through a wince. joking was never the way to handle serious situations with anakin, but fuck, you really couldn’t handle how broken he looked.

he didn’t smile. he hadn’t taken your eyes off of you, almost as if you would disappear the second he looked away.

“don’t ever do this to me again.”

you quickly stopped speaking at his tone. unstable and hurt. you can’t promise that to anakin. it would be selfish. you help people - your mission had hopefully saved thousands. what is one life to lose if it can save so many more? you’re skilled, why not use your potential for something extraordinary?

“leave the order with me.”

your eyes widen, bigger than you mean them to.

“i-i can’t do that.” you reply immediately, shaking your head in his gentle grasp. leaving the order was nearly unspoken of - all of these years training, dedicating your life - what would it have been for? you can’t leave. people need you - the galaxy needs you.

you would have anakin, but could you live with yourself? all these years, you’ve been taught to be selfless, so why is anakin proposing such an idea?

you’re sure he can see the conflict on your face.

“you almost died.”

his bluntness forces to you remember the stinging pain on your side. you shake your head.

“that’s a part of the job.” you speak firmly. “i would be injured a hundred times over if it meant someone won’t be.”

anakin immediately lets go of your face.

“listen to me,”

it’s nearly a full-body sob, and you watch as he stands straighter, attempting to compose himself.

you feel your heart drop to your stomach.

“you’re hurting me - i don’t care if i’m being selfish! i love you. i love you more than anything, and i know i cannot live without you.”

anakin skywalker’s love for you was almost pitiful. he himself nearly couldn’t stand it. how can one person cause so much heartache? why is it possible to care for someone as much as he does for you? his outburst was childish, and he’s aware. but he needs you to see him, so raw, so authentically. maybe if you could see the pain he was in, you would spare him more easily.

“anakin…” you whispered, so quietly you almost doubted he heard you.

the reality was, you tended to push anakin away. you were hesitant to love him. you felt greedy whenever you allowed yourself to love him so deeply. you were meant to serve others, not have feelings of your own. anakin was your weakness, and that scared you more than anything. if you were going to be powerful enough to save millions, it would be foolish to have a flaw.

but, clearly, anakin didn’t care about weaknesses. he had you, and loved you with open arms, and despite this, he preformed better than you in nearly everything. how does he manage?

“i love you too much.” his voice was defeated, and the anger he had previously held dissipated. “obi-wan saw me sulk after the three days. he stopped me from seeing you when you arrived.”

you nodded slowly. it made sense, you couldn’t imagine the scene that would have occurred if it had been anakin carrying your half-conscious body. anakin skywalker reacted according to his feelings. he was spontaneous.

you sighed quietly.

“i would never leave the order, anakin. i wouldn’t be able to live with myself.” you spoke, and winced as you visibly saw him tense.

you had to be honest with him.

reaching a hand out, you grabbed his, gently interlocking your fingers.

“but, i can promise you that i will never take a mission like that. it was reckless, i know. i’m so sorry.”

he didn’t speak, taking a seat on your bed.

he was unsatisfied, you knew that.

but you couldn’t change the entire trajectory of your life for him just because he worries you’ll get hurt. it would be wrong, and you know, though he won’t say it out loud, anakin agrees with you.

he allows himself to give into desires. it’s not because he feels he’s “deserving” of them, but because it’s something that comes so natural to him. so why must it be wrong to love you?

anakin is confident with your abilities. he knows how strong you are. but it’s second-nature for him to worry. you’re something so precious to him in this world of despair.

so he’ll stay silent and let you do whatever you please. he cannot hold you back, and he’s now painfully aware of it. but, he can help you.

more trainings, better advice, and more time.

you have each other, and he is satisfied with that forever.

#star wars fanfiction #star wars x reader #star wars fic #star wars x you #anakin skywalker #anakin angst #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x you #obi wan kenobi #obi wan star wars #darth vader #revenge of the sith #darth vador x reader #luke skywalker #obi wan x reader #rots #r2d2 #star wars anakin

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littlegreenfag-archive · 10 months ago

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Regarding @littlegreenfag

Tldr: Adina, known by the Tumblr urls littlegreenfag and prksoda, has spent the past several years lying about many facets of their life. The list of lies includes, but is not limited to, being half manouche Romani, being Jewish, and being descended from Holocaust survivors.

I never wanted to have to do this. I’ve spent months trying my best to encourage Adina to come clean themself. My methods were not ideal. I should not have used anonymous messages. I used to be friends with them, I should've talked to them openly as their friend. I also should’ve attempted to be less aggressive at times, even though I think it is incredibly reasonable to have felt the way I felt when I was sending some of those messages. I understand and regret both of these things. Unfortunately, since Adina has deactivated @littlegreenfag, I cannot provide links or screenshots to every ask of mine that they responded to, only those I saved at the time. I will do this later, upon request. This post is already going to be enough of a monster without them.

Though the last day has been a complete nightmare, I am satisfied with one thing: Adina came clean about everything, even if not publicly. My worry was always with the though of having to reveal their personal information, as many of the things they’ve lied about would require me to, functionally, dox them. Though it's technically all public, I would much rather that no one who doesn't already have access to this information gain it.

So, why am I writing this post? For those of you who were on Adina’s blog last night, you may have seen this post. I was also able to save a capture of their blog on the Internet Archive. Here is a screenshot that I took around when the post was first published. Apologies for the formatting.

To summarize, Adina begins to by admitting to a small lie, that they were born in Chicago, before admitting that they had been lying about their race. Though it was not present at the time of the blog's deletion, I would like to note that Adina had the phrase "jewish and half-romani" in their blog's bio for a very long time. This phrase was quietly removed after I sent the first anon message telling them that I was aware of their lies, on March 16th 2024. This can be seen on the Wayback Machine, by looking at the capture taken on March 5th, 2024, in comparison to the capture taken on March 24th, 2024.

That is what you may have seen. However, it is not the only major lie Adina has told. After suggesting Adina should turn off anons, I sent them another ask with my blog name visible, telling them that I could tell everyone about the other lies for them, if they wished to log off and be done with it. They messaged me privately, and this is the resulting conversation.

I apologize for the block of images, but I figured it was necessary to include the entire conversation. Here, Adina openly admits to not being Jewish. Adina has spent months receiving social benefits for claiming to be Jewish, and they've even used this claim to support arguments. Truth be told, Adina has one Jewish great-grandfather. How Adina expected me to believe they would know about this without knowing his surname, I will never know. However, I should emphasize that Adina is not Jewish by the standards of any main movement of Judaism. Orthodox and Conservative look for an unbroken line of Jewish women, while Reform asks that you be raised Jewish by a Jewish parent. Adina is descended from a Jewish man who converted to Catholicism and raised his children Catholic.

Regarding the Holocaust claim, I understand hat Adina did not directly address this. I will say that I find it suspicious that they deactivated as soon as I mentioned it, but they technically never confirmed it was a lie. However, with the information that:

The ancestors they mention as being survivors or victims quite literally do not exist and

Their Jewish ancestor was born in the United States well before WWII

I believe it is quite safe to say this was also a lie. My screenshots of their claims come mostly from their Reddit account, which is now deleted.

It is absolutely ghoulish to me to create fake relatives so that you can pretend they were tortured and killed during the Holocaust. All to receive sympathy.

Though there are many, many other lies Adina has peddled, such as being a child of divorce and having a dead biological mother, I don't think any of them matter much in the grand scheme of things when these are the other lies that have been told.

It is also worth noting that this is a pattern of behavior from Adina. As some of you who followed them may know, back in 2019, a blog was created with the intent of calling them out for lies. Frankly, this blog, @prksodalies , is what put me on to Adina's trail in the first place. Though I believe that several of the things Adina was accused of on this blog are downright cruel to accuse someone of without evidence, the fact that there were so many smaller obvious lies made me very uneasy. What specifically made me curious was the post, here, where Adina claims that they are half Lebanese. Obviously, this did not make a ton of sense with the half Roma and half Ashkenazi Jewish Adina we all knew. As it turns out, this was one of the very few shreds of truth from Adina. They're a quarter Lebanese on their father's side, and other than that and a Jewish great-grandfather, are of mostly Polish and German descent.

This being a pattern of behavior, alongside the way Adina behaved in messages with me, tells me that this will likely unfortunately not be the last time this person creates a Tumblr blog with a fabricated life story. I feel immense guilt at the thought that they may continue to swindle and hurt people, and that I will never know or be able to help again.

To everyone who was friends with this person and has been hurt by their actions, I am truly, truly sorry. This has been an absolutely miserable experience for me and I can't imagine it's much different for any of you. If you have questions, I'll be available for a least a few hours. I do not want to share any of their personal information, but I will share what I need to (privately) if some of you need or want more information.

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grapejuicestyless · 2 years ago

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Just Because You Cannot Have Her.

Conrad Fisher x fem!reader

Summery: You’ve always been in love with the oldest Fisher. Having grown up to be his practical twin, it was almost impossible not to. When he makes it clear he likes someone else, you try to move on. And it almost works.(inspired by that one scene between Laurie and Amy in Little Women!)

Angst to fluff to angst to fluff again(it’s a lot.)

To me, he wasn’t only the sun. He was the moon and the stars. He was the smell of the fresh grass and the sound of the beach. He was all of my favorites things. And to him, I was his best friend.

Conrad and I grew up together. Our mothers all going to college. My mother rooming with Laurel and Susannah, creating the foundation of a new friendship. One that led us to Boston right beside her and the summer long vacations only I would attend during the hottest months as my moms work grew more demanding. Susannah lived next door to us my whole life. A pretty house on a more quiet road in Massachusetts. The houses mere feet apart. Windows reflecting each other.

Nights were spent the three of us each school year, playing in the garden with sticks as swords and watching cheesy movies before color had reached the big screen. Just me, Jeremiah and Conrad. All year long. All day long.

I still remember the day we figured it out, Conrad and I. How my window was directly facing his. Same floor, same height. How if we tried hard enough, we could communicate late at night and never be apart.

Jeremiah was an important part of our trio, but as they always say, there’s a duo in every trio. That was me and Conrad. It was obvious, the way we sat closer together. My head on his chest and his legs thrown over my lap. How by some force, no matter the scenario, it was always him and me against it. No matter Jeremiah’s efforts, it seemed that he could never quiet catch up. He wasn’t mad by it, he understood even then that what we had was special, but he also had a right to want that. To want that force that constantly seemed to keep Conrad and I intertwined.

And with the knowledge of that force and the closeness of it all, how could I not fall for the boy that was my best friend? My everything. Him with his blonde hair and boyish grin, eyes crinkling and shoulders hunched. He understood my jokes, even when they weren’t that good and yet, he laughed at each one. Because I was the one telling them. We flowed continuously, like a perfect line drawn on a piece of paper.

But I guess that force wasn’t as strong as I believed. Because while it had pulled me to him in every way a person can be pulled, Conrad seemed to have been left behind. Unaffected by it all. Able to fall for everyone else around him while I remained trained to him like a puppy eager to gain his affection.

Belly and Steven were an added part of our group. Each summer they’d travel down to the beach, stay just down the hall from us and enjoy the same games and closeness I was lucky enough to have all year.

Yet, with her youngness, in some way I still got everyone to myself. If it were to be a house party or a late night rendezvous, it was always the three of us and occasionally Steven.

Last summer was different. To me, to her. To everyone. Belly changed. Like the seasons or the tide, Belly lost her braces and ditched the glasses. Hair flowing behind her like a movie scene. A character straight from a love story. I always saw her as beautiful. Always believed she had the looks and personality to make any boy chase her, leaving a trail of drool behind. But now, everyone else could see it too. Conrad could see it too.

And that summer, he spent it stuck to her hip like glue. Leaving me colder and more alone than I’d ever been in my entire life.

I had been forgotten like nothing ever happened between us. Like we hadn’t come up with our own way of conversation through the windows. Like we hadn’t cried over the notebook or sat on the floor playing Barbie’s until our knees hurt and our back were sore. Like we didn’t know the ins and outs of each other. To be thrown to the side like a distraction felt like a punch to the gut. But the affection that Belly gained from Conrad while I lost everything was a bullet, killing me slowly while I bled all over Susannah’s white bed sheets.

Summer came and went. Slower than I wished. But that’s what happens when the world crumbles around you. Losing your best friend, and also the love of your life to the girl you’d happily consider a younger sister. Watching her get the attention I’d always wanted. His lips ghosting over hers and his hands tracing her hips like she was art. All while my hands held themselves and my lips were bitten raw.

The fall wasn’t much better. College was hard. So far away from home, and even farther from Jere and Conrad. I could count down the days until summer. I wouldn’t have Conrad, I accepted that. But I would always have Jeremiah. The boy who was always my younger self. My other best friend who stuck by me as he watched Conrad rip pieces of my heart out each day without any knowledge of what he was doing. He comforted me on the days that I seemed to be nothing more than a distant memory to Conrad. He sat with me both in person and on the phone for hours, catching up and doing the things I had only ever done with Conrad.

I went to NYU, much to everyone’s dismay. I’d sworn on Brown. Going somewhere with Conrad to stay together. Two peas in a pod. He’d looked disappointed at my decision, but he could’ve seen it coming. With him no longer wanting me, it felt wrong to follow him around. To stay stuck to another woman’s boyfriend, if that’s what you could call them.

Conrad and Belly were never exclusive. They never set clear boundaries of their relationship. They flirted and teased. Played around and fought, but they never stuck completely. Deep down, Belly had a crush brewing for Cam Cameron, and anyone who wasn’t an idiot could see the blush spread across her cheeks whenever Jeremiah walked into the room. Conrad, to him it felt like Belly was it. He had no other women around him. He stopped flirting freely at bonfires and rarely went out without her. He was more set on a true relationship. Knowing that is what hurt the most. So, I left. Not wanting to stay in a place I did not feel welcome.

Again, the seasons passed. Changing like the people within it. And finally, within the snow and the rain, I came home to a familiar neighborhood. My luggage in the trunk of an even more familiar red Jeep. The Fishers and I were reunited, almost fully. Susannah slept peacefully in the back seat, head leaned up against the window, pen laid dainty in between her slim fingers adorned with beautiful jewels. Jeremiah was driving, a new smile on his face as the summer sun shined down on us. Meanwhile, I sat passenger side, sock clad feet up on the dash and a pack of gummy worms on my lap, feeding a few to Jere every couple seconds. It was perfect. An atmosphere that was light and gentle. The only missing piece was my best friend in the whole world, Conrad Fisher.

He had decided to drive up by himself this year, having been away at Brown and getting the chance to head off early. It made perfect sense. But the idea that our annual car rides were no longer existing, ached. I had already lost him in the summer, I could accept that. But to lose him year round? It was a new pain I couldn’t even think about dealing with. So I took it as it was, a perfect excuse.

“You okay?” His voice was smooth, warm. I let my eyes flicker from the side mirror. My face turned to look at the tan skinned boy next to me.

Jeremiah was always beautiful. He had the bluest eyes I’d ever seen. One that reflected the clearest summer day I could wish for. Yet, in the lightness, they also held depth. Sparkling with impulse and enthusiasm. His smile was infectious. Bright white in a way you could only dream it to be in the movies. Something that no one would believe to be a true description until they saw it. He had curly hair that wasn’t quite brunette, but not light enough to be blonde.

I still remembered the day he ran to me crying. He’d always hated his curls. He longed to have the straighter hair that his older brother had. He always looked up to Conrad. In ways so extreme that he wanted to be just like him. Conrad had told him that his sandwich crust made his hair curly. It was funny until it wasn’t. I spent the whole day styling Jeremiah’s hair until it was sticky with hair product and styled in his own way of perfection. He looked almost humorous with his usually wild hair all done up, but handsome none the less. He had really grown into himself through the years, it was hard not to notice him.

The memory made me smile, only the sound of a far out car horn shaking me back to the present.

“Just really excited to be back. College kicked my ass.” My smile was tight lipped, but genuine. Jeremiah returned the look, sighing as he looked out to the road ahead, taking in the familiar scenery.

“Me too.” I caught his eyes quickly flick over to mine, a smile still spread on his cheeks. A blush on mine. He was one of my best friends. My younger self. I shouldn’t have been so flustered to have been caught admiring the boy, but for some reason the heat bubbled up in my stomach anyways. I needed air, a sharp intake of it getting stuck in my throat as I felt a warmth wrap around my hand.

His larger hand laid comfortably in mine, squeezing innocently and shaking it as if to symbolize excitement. Yet, in that moment, the innocent gesture felt more intimate than a pure platonic feeling. Again, the heat rose to my cheeks, and the butterflies made me feel uneasy. But I brushed it off as over tiredness.

When we pulled into the driveway, I noticed all the other cars already parked. We had been the last to arrive, another odd experience as we were always the first.

Quickly, the families raced out the door to greet us. Steven and Belly shoving off each other to race to Jere and I. Belly got to me first, her arms wrapping around my body so hard I stumbled back at her force.

“I’m so glad you’re here! I missed you!” Her words were muffled by my shoulder, head buried into my skin like I’d slip away if she didn’t hold on to me tight.

“I missed you more, Bells. I have no one to watch all these movies with me when I’m away.” I motioned to the bag I had stashed away in the back seat next to were Susannah was once sitting. Belly pulled away in excitement, head peaking over my shoulder to inspect the stack of old discs peaking out from the bag. Her attention back on me as she stepped away.

“Look at you, all grown up.” I held her face between my hands, eyes squinting to fully admire her beauty. She truly changed last summer, having lost her braces and glasses. But somehow, the girl managed to get even more stunning in the passing year, proving to everyone she wasn’t so little anymore. She brushed me off, scoffing playfully before motioning to me.

“Look at me? Look at you! College did wonders!” I shrugged off the complement, not really seeing any changes.

It was true though, I had grown in college. Always a late bloomer, my chest had gone up a size. My wild hair was more tamed and my lips reddened. I changed from that young graduate who was sworn into baggy college shirts and swimsuit bottoms into someone who didn’t truly mind tighter shirts with half sleeves or jean shorts that were slightly scandalous. I had grown into a more confident version of myself while away from the crutches of comfort back home.

Out of the corner of my eye I caught Conrad walking towards us, his eyes avoidant of Belly and glued to me, the first time I truly felt his gaze in almost a full year. He made a B-line to me, smile plastered across his face before Jeremiah intercepted his welcome. I couldn’t help but feel disappointed, even if I had convinced myself all feelings for him were in the past. That I could move on.

I felt Stevens arm loop around my shoulders, “Blah, blah, blah. Y/n, I think you’ve had enough time to catch up. You know what time it is?” She shared a look, my eyes catching Jeremiah’s, his looking to Conrad’s.

“Belly flop!” I was quick to declare, Belly’s eyes widening. She was quick to try to make an escape, but not quiet quick enough.

She ran right into Jeremiah. Him and Conrad restraining her arms while Steven and I latched onto her legs. We rushed over to the pool, excited to toss her in yet another year. She screamed and thrashed, only to be met with the fate of the bottom of the pool.

The water splashed onto our legs, her body submerging underneath. I let myself fall into Jeremiah with an excited laugh. His arms wrapped around my body almost protectively, head tilted down to look at me. It was inviting and all so warm. Summer had officially begun.

The beach house was lively and bustling with people running from room to room. Trying to complete each thing that needed to be done to fully enjoy the summer. Susannah and I seemed to be the only two in place. Even Laurel rushing around to help out.

The kitchens surface was layered in fruits and flour tossed around it. The evidence of the crime scene on our faces. Powder smears across cheeks and a red ring over lining my lips from what could’ve been cherry or strawberry juice.

Susannah had sworn that the dessert she had been planning to make would taste so much better from scratch. She was right, like always. Her baked goods always were, and the small cakes in all various shapes and sizes were just as delicious as promised. Now the only thing left to show was the plate filled with the fresh pastries and the mess to prove we really had made them.

We laughed about it, when stepping back to observe our damage, a hand going to her forehead. Both in humor for the situation and some stress.

“What exploded in here?” We turned on our heals to the voice, laced in shock and amusement. The matching expression belonging to the boy I couldn’t seem to escape all day. Jeremiah.

“We made pastries!” Even my best jazz hands couldn’t hide the fact that everything was everywhere. Not even my best smile could hide the small regret I felt for making it with Susannah.

Sometimes, I believed Jeremiah was a psychic. As I could’ve seen the stress on Susannah’s perfect face, it was like he could simply feel it. With one small flick of his hands, he nodded knowingly, always wanting to be a help.

“Mom, why don’t you relax. I’m sure Y/n and I can handle a little mess.” We exchanged a glance. I nodded frantically, wanting to help out Susannah in every way possible.

“Are you sure?” She sounded more relieved than anything.

“Yes, of course. Now go, watch a movie or read a book. Paint! Why don’t you paint!” I shooed her away, helping Jere get her to settle in for the day.

The room was silent as she left, her presence only known because of what she had left behind. I almost laughed at how messy a grown woman could be, but I wasn’t any better, so who was I to judge?

“You really know how to make an entrance.” Jeremiah mused, eyeing me up and down while lifting the trash can over to the edge of the island top.

“What can I say? I’m an artist.” Picking up some flour from the countertop, I tossed it on his face, holding my hands up in a picture motion, as if I was trying to get the right framing for my work.

“Perfect!” I joked, a playful smirk on Jeremiah’s face.

We were quick in cleaning the kitchen. All appliances already washed and put away as we used them. So all there was to do was to clean whatever didn’t make it into the pans and bowls. It looked just like new, shining like it had before our baking process.

Again, I stepped back to admire our work, only this time, Jeremiah admired it with me. Looking at each other, I felt sure we had done the best job that could’ve been done.

“I think we make a good team. Absolutely spotless.” Looking at me up and down, it became apparent again that even as clean as the kitchen was, I needed to change my shirt.

“Shit.” I pulled the bottom of the material out, inspecting the spots of dust that scattered all over it. Frowning, I flattened it back out, ready to mock myself for a joke.

Jeremiah’s face didn’t change though, still casting that same smile that seemed to always be lazily stretched across his features. His hand found my skin for the second time that day. Only it didn’t wrap around my fingers in an embrace. Instead, he lifted his hand to my face. Thumb pressed to my lips, he smeared away the bottom of my cherry-strawberry ring that was beginning to stain.

Again, the heat rose and I felt almost fluttery at the closeness of it all. The intimacy of his actions.

“I like the red lip thing, by the way. Suits you.” With that he pulled away, thumb brought up between his own and sucking off the juice gathered across the tip.

He walked away like nothing had happened, while I stood there, red in the face and stuck on what had just happened. The boy I had always turned away in hopes that Conrad would chase after me like I had to him, was openly flirting with me. And I didn’t mind it.

Maybe it was the fact that I was lonely without the burning love for Conrad to fill my heart, or maybe it was the new found bond we formed over the last year. Which ever it was, it was leading me straight to my best friends arms, whether I liked it or not.

The sun rose high above the horizon, casting an unbearable heat across Cousins. It was the beginning of July, officially today. Just a week after everyone had piled into their designated vehicles and arrived to their home away from home, the one place we could all be together constantly.

To say that the week had been weird would be an understatement. I had fully prepared to be ignored by Conrad all summer, my heart slowly closing itself off, finally healing from his sour attitude from the previous year and finding it in myself to move on. However, to my surprise, he didn’t. No, within the first twenty four hours, Conrad was banging on my door. Demanding we go early morning surfing. Something we hadn’t done in years.

Conrad first proposed the activity when we turned fourteen. Just old enough to go out unsupervised during the day. At first I had been skeptical, unsure of how great my surfing abilities were in comparison with Conrad’s. At how well I could get back above the water if I were to fall. But Conrad always had a way of convincing me otherwise. Like the angel and devil sat on my shoulder, he could sway me whichever way he wanted. It was a power only Conrad had ever held over me. Something that was not only endearing, but scary. Something I vowed to not allow anyone else to have over me.

It became a tradition for three years straight. Waking up early for at least half of the weekdays to either play around in the water or float for hours. Burning and getting more delirious by the hour. Sharing anything and everything with each other. Something I held close to me, in those years.

By eighteen, Conrad had turned moody, starting what could be summed up as last summer in a nutshell. His ignorance towards my feelings and his inability to care about the ones he did know about ending the tradition by mid July. I used to pray he would knock on my doors to go again, but the knock never came. And as any sensible person would, I stopped pretending like it was possible to happen again.

But maybe I had been wrong, seeing as Conrad was once again, knocking at my door.

The waves had been particularly calm that morning, barely rocking the boards up and down. We decided to just float along the waters that day, the air quiet and calm.

“I missed this.” His voice cut through the silence like a knife. I raised my head from the water, where my hands had been making shapes along the surface.

“So why’d you stop doing it?” The words came out harsher than intended. After all, I was enjoying our time together. I had missed him terribly. After all, while having a younger me around was soothing, having your other half was so much more fulfilling in some ways.

I guess it was the pent up frustrations I hadn’t known I had until that moment. The anger that was caused by the fact that Conrad had me. He had me in the palm of his hands and deep down he knew he did. He knew I would go wherever he went. The poor idiot unable to see his disinterest in me. He had walked out, and I had let him back in. Just like every fight ever, he would come back begging and I would crumble immediately.

I decided then I could be his friend, I always would. It was something that was irreversible. I would let him back into my heart as my best friend, but it ended there. I refused to let him back in romantically. Something that was strange to know. Something I never dreamed of happening.

Sure the feelings were still there, I believed they always would be, but I would no longer act on them. And hopefully I could learn to love another.

Conrad fell quiet again after that. Not knowing what to say. Anything, everything fell short.

“I’m sorry, Y/n/n. I’ve been such an asshole to you. I was just, scared of everything and not where I should’ve been last summer. I shouldn’t have taken out my issues on you. I shouldn’t have ignored you. If I could take it all back I would. I miss my other half.” It was genuine, each word out of his mouth. My heart beat faster with the idea that Conrad had phrased it, “other half” instead of, “best friend” because he held some sort of feelings for me. But my logical half shut that idea down as quick as it happened, and nothing came of it.

In the evening, I had been playing volleyball in the pool with Belly. Having been a retired varsity player, it was always fun to get competitive with her. Diving into the water and scraping our feet on the bottom of the pool. It was messy but fun.

With it being played just us for awhile, Belly jumped at the idea to have Jeremiah and Steven join us. The pair having walked outside unaware to the intense battle going on in their swim trunks, they were quickly recruited to our teams.

The usual teams were me and Steven, our competitive nature making us a powerhouse against the usual Belly and Jeremiah. Who were just as good but lacked the same fire. Without hesitation, they jumped into the water, calling dibs on their teams.

“Alright I call y/n!” Jere was quick, his sprint slowed to a hop in the waist deep water, arms wrapped around my frame in a tight hug.

Belly scoffed.

“What’s wrong with being on my team?” She demanded to know, her tone dripping with playfulness.

Jeremiah rolled his eyes.

“No offense, Bells. But I want to win for once.” She stuck her tongue out sourly, Steven shooting me daggers, ready to destroy us.

While Jeremiah’s excuse was reasonable, his lingering touches and constant banter with me made it more apparent he had other reasons to be on my team. The way his hands held onto the ball just a moment longer when handing the ball to me to serve over the net, just to brush against my fingers or the way his body was never too far from mine. It was all so flirtatious, the familiar fluttery feeling returning.

In the end, we had won, much to Stevens dismay. It was a close game, but ultimately he had lost control of the ball, causing a hard loss for Belly. The pair fought innocently while we relished in our newly earned bragging rights. Jeremiah’s arms wrapped around me again, only to lift me from the water and spin us around to celebrate. All the new closeness was unusual, but for some reason, again I found myself unable to push it away. And the more he did it, the more I wanted him to keep flirting with me.

Maybe it was the attention, something I had always wanted, or maybe it was something new blossoming between us. But it was good and it was sweet. Something I hadn’t known before.

By the end of the week it seemed my days were split into fractions. My mornings taken up my Conrad, our bodies laid along the beach and our cheeks red with the sun. Muffins runs long and hilarious each time we drove off to collect a batch together. Conrad insisting Steven wouldn’t mind if he ate the last blueberry one and being wrong each time, resulting in the scramble to get more. In the afternoons I found myself devoted to Jeremiah. All his activities he wanted to do, he had somehow managed to rope me into doing with him. Whether it be running or swimming. Painting or just talking, I was there beside him. My eyes stuck to his like glue. And by the time night fell, I would be happily tucked under a blanket, Susannah and Laurel on one side and Belly squishing against my other as we watched the sappiest movies we could find and played the longest board games in the closet. Summer felt like summer again, and my heart was finally mending.

In my healing, it was like I had lost sight of the cause of the heartbreak. My head too stuck in the clouds that was the regaining of Conrad’s company and Jeremiah’s unrelenting interest in me to remember why the healing was necessary.

It seemed to have been over, this summer. The way Conrad avoided her more than usual. The way that the only times they were really together was when we were all in each other’s presence. But I would never really know as I am not them.

It was stupid to get so upset so late into the summer. Over something I should’ve seen coming. Something that had already came, just wasn’t as apparent. The moon was high and the moms were already settled in for the movie night. The blanket pulled up to their chins and popcorn buttery and still steaming.

Laurel had asked if I could go find Belly, not wanting to start without the person who adored these nights the most. Without thinking, I agreed. Why wouldn’t I? She was my little sister, in some ways. Someone who I refused to do the tradition without.

But god, I wish I hadn’t. I could’ve spared myself the heartbreak.

Conrad had Belly in his arms. Holding her loosely, letting her drift off without a care. All while his lips were on top of hers. Pressing into them with such force, such desire it made me sick. I had sworn to not let him back into my heart in that way, and I hadn’t. But the old feeling would always be there, and it would hurt each time he broke my heart like it was the first.

I wasn’t interested in the movie anymore. Yelling out some lazy excuse as to why I was going off to the beach to watch the stars instead of the movie. The mothers not giving it a second thought.

It was a mess, both mentally and physically. My brain scrambled in my emotions and my room reflecting it. My bathing suit was still damp, fitting perfect across my body even in the slight discomfort it gave me. The shirt I threw on over it wasn’t my own. The words, “Boston MA” spread across the chest. It hung at my thighs and it smelled fresh.

In moments like this I used to purposefully put on Conrad’s shirts I’d stolen over the years. The lingering scent of his cologne and the memories we held of him wearing them comforting enough. But in this moment, I wanted nothing more than to be as far away from his as possible.

I’m not sure who’s sandals I stole at the door were, but I hoped they didn’t need them anytime soon. Because I didn’t plan on coming back until the house was quiet and asleep.

The beach was my sanctuary. Peaceful, stranded at an hour like this. In any other place it would’ve been almost eerie, but I felt safe in Cousins. I knew nothing could hurt me here, and that in itself gave me peace.

The stars were brighter than usual tonight, sparkling on the surface of the very water I had laid across just hours before with Conrad. Confessing each dirty secret from college and laughing about our past. It felt more lonely now, then ever.

Even when Conrad and I were drifted, I felt more together than now. The wound reopened and bleeding.

The sand shuffled beside me, but my head was set on looking up. Unmoving.

“The stars are gorgeous tonight, huh?” The question was meant to be left unanswered. Only an attempt to get me to see that he was there, beside me now so I wouldn’t become startled by his presence later on. Still, I nodded. Eyes peeling from the sky to his.

They were just as bright and lively. Just as beautiful.

“Why’d you follow me? You my stalker now?” I tried to be funny, tried to joke. But my mouth was stuck in that almost permanent frown. I should’ve known he could sense my sensitivity, he always could. That’s probably what had drawn him out here in the first place. Always so attentive.

Still, to pity me, he laughed. It was quiet but it was there. Enough to make the corner of my mouth twitch upward. We fell into another silence. My eyes glossy.

“What’s going on in that mind of yours, y/n/n. Tell me.” His hand reached out to push at my shoulder, gaining my attention again, pulling it away from the sky.

I blinked away the tears, swallowing the lump in my throat. I shrugged.

“Honestly, I’m not really sure.” Closing my mouth, I licked along the top line of my teeth. Sucking in my lips, I let them pop to take in a sharp breath. All while Jeremiah sat there patiently, ready to listen. Always there.

“I guess it’s just, everything. I mean-“ I looked for the right words to say, not wanting to stumble or say something I didn’t mean.

“I feel like I’m just being overly emotional. Everyone’s trying so hard to mend relationships and I feel like I keep finding reasons to run away again. I mean, I’ve been horrible to Conrad the past year. And for what? Because I couldn’t control myself? I haven’t seen Steven in awhile and I don’t even know how Laurel is holding up. I’ve just…I don’t know why I feel like this.” Everything was building into a massive guilt, my head facing the ground. Ashamed at my own feelings. Jeremiah didn’t judge, he didn’t push for more. He let me say what I needed to say, and he supported it. He was good to me.

“Hey, hey.” He was quick, seeing how I was breaking down rapidly. Under the stress of now not only the heartbreak I was suffering, but the guilt that came with the buried desire for Conrad to leave her to be with me. It snowballed into one big vomit of grief that wasn’t discovered until that moment.

“I’m sorry.” I wiped my eyes, breathing into a weak chuckle. I tried to lighten the whole situation, knowing that he was already dealing with so much. I felt worse putting it onto his shoulders. I couldn’t. So I avoided it. Changed the subject.

“Shit, Jere. I shouldn’t have brought you into it.” I looked at him, his eyes already trained on mine, his eyebrows knit together.

“Don’t be. I’ll always be there for you, Y/n. Promise.” His hands found mine in the dark, the sand getting stuck between the creases on our palms. They laid intertwined in the sand. The third time it had happened this summer. Somehow, even at my worst, he always found a way to break down the walls I was putting up.

My eyes flickered to his lips for only a moment, but the look on his face told me he was thinking about it too and the tension was palpable. Too lost in thought to lean in, Jeremiah closed the gap.

His lips slotted against mine perfectly. Molding together like they were one, pressing together hard. It was slow, but lustful. The knowledge that we both wanted more behind it, but the accompanying knowledge that it wouldn’t go beyond that kiss tonight was also there, creating a sort of comfort in the feeling.

Hands were soon tangled in each others hair, his curls ruined and messy from my constant tugging and messing with them. Groans escaping his mouth every so often when a tug was harder than usual. His hands finding the back of my neck to hold me close, our breathing heavy and the heat unbearable as it radiated between us. Everything was lustful and needy, slow and hot. Neither of us in a rush to end what was happening, everything feeling overwhelmingly good.

When we finally did pull away it was with a pop, lips swollen and reddened from a mixture of irritation and the small marks Jere had left littered across the bottom of mine with his tugging and gentle nips every so often. Eyes were heavy with desire and bodies unwilling to let go. It was like everything fell into place, like everything made sense. With Jeremiah so close, someone who cared for me, someone who constantly showed up, the heartache was almost nonexistent, and it felt like I was being pulled in a new direction. One that led me straight into the arms of the younger Fisher.

The kiss between Jeremiah and I should’ve stayed at that, a kiss. Realistically, I shouldn’t have done it at all. Knowing that even if I tried to stop it or refused to acknowledge it, my heart would always beat for Conrad. No matter how much of an asshole he had been to me. And that was the sad part, because his brother was so much kinder and better to me these past few years.

Maybe that’s why I agreed when it kept going. Why I allowed us to keep progressing into something more. Because even if my heart belonged to Conrad, Jeremiah was better for me, right? Why trade something that’s good for something that’s right?

That summer became last year, June coming up around the corner and still, physically I was Jeremiah’s.

Over our year together I had grown to love his curls, or the way he was so quick to visit me the second my voice faltered, despite his own troubles. How we had shared clothes and his touch was enough to send butterflies through my veins.

He was everything, someone I could grow to love as much as I did for Conrad. Someone that I could rely on. Someone who made my heart beat just a little bit faster.

If I had claimed that last summer was off, this one was tripled that.

What had started off semi normal in June, Conrad’s closeness in a strict platonic sense and Jeremiah’s closeness in a way that could be no where near a platonic level became more and more confusing as the weeks passed.

For the past two years of my life, I believed that one day the news would break that Conrad and Belly had finally found their place. Their title, their boundaries and make it exclusive. I believed that in her arriving with a new found beauty, I had lost the battle for him. I had come second to Belly in his eyes and would continue to forever if it meant he could be with her. But that never happened. The day never came.

And soon the lines became even more blurred. Conrad’s touches growing longer and closer. My body being pressed to his more often than not. His lips by my ear to whisper some secret, some dirty some innocent. His eyes staring just a second too long. It was almost flirtatious. But the minute Belly walked into the room, I was reminded that we could never be. And we would never be.

It wasn’t until the middle of August that I knew why the lines had seemingly disappeared. Belly and Conrad had stopped their messy make outs, both not getting what the other wanted, even if it had seemed like the pair was so enthralled by each other. And she had moved onto the boy she had been chasing for years. Cam Cameron. The boy who adored whales and had a heart of gold. His hair curlier than Jeres and eyes deeper than Conrad’s. It seemed that to her, she had finally found the person she needed around. And Conrad? He had nothing. Not even the girl he called his best friend to chase after him anymore. For she was with his brother now.

Still, the flirting was relentless. My mornings spent dedicated to Conrad, holding his hand as we attempted not to drift too far out in the calmness of the early ocean. His laugh warm and inviting. Something that reminded me why I enjoyed him so much. Even in his darkest moments, the ones where I was left to feel alone, he was always there to help me back up in the end. Mending his losses and fixing what was broke. He understood his issues, finding his own responsibility in situations that weren’t only his own cause. He was kind, he cared. He didn’t show it like Jeremiah did, but he had so much of it, it was just harder to see. He did everything for everyone.

My nights were for his brother. Jeremiah and I sprawled out on the grass, pointing at the stars, laughing about the stupidest things. I think back on why I like him so much. How easy it is to just be with him. How he never fights or lies or hurts. He’s there and accepts his faults, much like his brother. He is not ashamed like his brother. Not ashamed of his faults, he carries less guilt about the past, only worried about what he can do to fix it and continue on. And it is all so confusing because it feels impossible to long for two people at once. It feels selfish but it’s almost exactly what I want in that moment.

So the routine became something that I stuck to. Hiding away with Conrad in the sunlight to do our favorite things and holding onto Jeremiah throughout the night. The bed full, warm.

Somewhere in this thread, there was a bump. A miscommunication that led to Jeremiah wandering off to a party without me. One that I didn’t mind as it gave me a chance to clear my mind. Catch my breath on the situation. To do it in the one place I knew.

The concrete beneath my feet turned to sand, the softened surface relaxing as I tread across it. In the darkness I almost miss the hunched over figure in my spot. Red hoodie and messy hair unmissable. Easily identifiable even from the back, even with only an outline. An outline I had grown to recognize as Conrad’s.

I should’ve felt disappointed at the fact I wasn’t alone like I had planned to be, but I wasn’t. The idea that I would be with the one person I trusted more than life for a few hours wasn’t unsettling at all. It made it all more peaceful.

My legs folded underneath me, legs stretching out in front of me, I leaned back on my hands.

Looking up at Conrad I almost got a sort of deja vu from a similar conversation I was having just short of a year ago.

“What brings you down here this late?” I drew shapes in the sand, eyes drawn to his. He looked up to the sky, then back to me.

“I could ask you the same.” I smiled, only after realizing he had cracked one of his own.

“Clearing my mind.” I breathed out, relaxed fully next to him. I allowed myself to look at the stars with him.

“What are you think about?” I could hear his smile, something that made me feel warm. Something that made me want to express how I felt for him finally, but also urged me to put my strongest walls up.

The waves crashed against the shore and the crickets filled the silence. My teeth caught between my lip and my heart besting out of my chest, I felt dizzy in confusion. Where my heart lied.

“I think I might tell Jeremiah I love him.” I almost whispered it, like I was unsure.

The thought hadn’t crossed my mind before. I always knew my heart held something for Jeremiah. I always liked him. But not once did the idea of confessing my love for him cross my mind. Maybe it was because Conrad was close. He always had a way to make me confess my truest feelings. Maybe it was that, him helping me realize what I felt for his younger brother. Yet, in the back of my mind I couldn’t help but feel that the idea only came to mind in spite of Conrad, who had pushed me aside so many months ago. Who was now longing for my attention. And that alone made me feel sick. Sick that I would play with someone I adored so much at the expense of another, just to retaliate against old issues.

I expected a fake support from him. At least some sort of statement to encourage me to go for it. Something that I could try to believe was real and finally be able to let go of my twisted crush for him. One that I had held since I knew what love could be.

But his face fell flat, eyes looking almost coldly into the sky. His voice was dryer now, serious with each word he spoke.

“Don’t tell him.” I froze, confused but also bubbling with a mixture of frustration and sadness at his carelessness with such a heavy statement.

“What?” I tried to search his unmoving eyes.

“Don’t tell him.” He repeated, looking to me now.

“Why?” Looking at him, I saw the sun and the stars and moon, all lighting up the night sky. I saw the world in a way that made me want to put it in the palm of his hands. I saw something I’d never seen in his eyes before. A look I was only familiar with because it was a reflection of my own.

“Why?” He repeated me again, “You know why.”

My heart dropped. I had dreamt of this moment for years. Conrad running to me, asking me to take his hand. To be with him, but now, it felt almost sickening. Cruel for him to be doing this to me. Now, he had to do it. After his life fell apart and just as mine was coming together he had to do it.

I used my hands to slowly get up, Conrad mirroring my movements.

“No…no.” I repeated, trying to make my answer any more true.

“Yes.” His hand reached out to touch my cheek, but my hand was quick to push it away.

“No, Conrad.” I backed away more, letting him inch closer.

“What?” He asked, acting clueless to how he was ripping me apart all over again.

“You’re being mean, stop it. Stop it.”

“What? How am I being mean?” He almost sound amused at it, at how distressed I felt. All I could do was try to hold myself together for just a little longer.

“I have been second to Belly these past few years in everything. And I will not be the person you settle for just because you cannot have her.” My words held more truth than anything I had ever said in my life. The honest truth of how I felt these past few years, even if he never saw it.

“I won’t-I won’t do it.” I shook my head, his face broken and his eyebrows drawn together.

I wiped my brow, turning away briefly while my lip trembled. Slowly crumbling under the bubbling hot emotion coming up my throat, expanding into a lump.

“I won’t-not when I have spent my entire life loving you.” I wanted to point, stick my finger right in his chest but my hands were glued to my sides, unwilling to touch him. With his silence as my returning answer, I took the chance to turn on the balls of my feet, walking off to the house in a new kind of distress than before.

I prayed that Jeremiah was still away, that I wouldn’t have to face him so soon but my prayers were left unanswered, a familiar frame sat over the kitchen island. His eyes drawn to his phone.

He smiled up at me as soon as he noticed I was in the room, everything about him so innocent and kind. Something I could never take advantage of. Something I could deprive someone else more deserving of it from.

His sweet smile soon turned into a mixed expression of pain and confusion. His feet carrying him across the room to me. I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t help but to put my arms out in front of me to create a distance. To relay it to him even when my mouth wouldn’t work that I could not be in his touch right now.

I shook my head before he could even speak, eyes opening, covered in a heavy gloss.

“What’s wrong?” He was almost frantic in the way he said it, wanting to provide comfort without knowing how.

“I-I can’t. I can’t do this, Jere. I can’t do this.” I kept repeating it like it would get any clearer.

“I can’t love you. And it physically hurts me to say it out loud because, because I should. You’re everything I could ever want but I just can’t and I don’t know why. And it’s wrong, and I’m sorry but I can’t keep doing this.” His face almost drained, attempting to salvage what I was so quick to let go of. But it all made sense.

It was foolish for him to believe that he could make me love him, when my heart so obviously still beat for Conrad. So he let me go just as he always does, without a fight. Letting there be peace in our divide.

The next few nights were unforgiving. The sheets a mess and my eyes tired. I couldn’t sleep knowing I had ruined everything in my eyes. What was something good I had to go and end because of my inability to let him go. Something I am unsure I will ever be able to do. Not when I’ve spent so much time bending to fit him.

Soon, summer would be over officially, even if to me it had ended that night. It was the last morning of August, the last day spent down in Cousins before we’d all pack our things into the car and count down the days until next June.

The sun had barely risen above the horizon when I woke. A familiar pattern. Not being able to sleep more than a few hours, the mess of everything keeping me awake.

It was mornings like these I wandered down to the beach, sitting myself in the same spot I had the night everything crashed down. It was all too peaceful for what had happened here, the only place I truly felt secure now. I couldn’t help but cry, looking out. Remembering everything that had happened, kissing those who were just a few feet away.

“Y/n!” His voice called out to me, like he knew I had woken up. He knew where I would be. And it was sweet but sickening.

“Why did you do it?” My voice broke, the question left unanswered. I heard his footsteps stop.

“Why now did you have to tell me? Why is it when I’m finally picking myself up you had to fuck with me. Why?” I all but sobbed, tears streaming freely.

Over my sniffles and pleas, I missed the sound of him moving again, his body finding a home in the sand next to mine. His voice quiet. He thought about it, hard. Trying to form some sort of confession that could sum up what he felt.

“Because if you said it, that meant he won. I would have finally lost you.” He looked at me truthfully, eye own eyes squinting in confusion, heart still aching.

“What?” I breathed out.

“I have spent every waking minute of my life so fucking in love with you, it physically hurt me to not be able to confess it. I was always too scared, seeing how perfect you looked with everyone else. I felt like I was dragging you down. Like I wasn’t enough. So, I found comfort in other people. People who were okay with me using them to forget. Because forgetting is better than living with the fact that my brother was with the only person I have ever loved.” My eyes searched his, his eyes glossy just like mine. His voice breaking and desperate. Wanting me, needing me to believe him.

“I love you too.” The smallest smile broke out across his face, one of relief and comfort in my words. I could sense the hesitation in his actions, and just as Jeremiah had to me, I closed the gap between us. Allowing my lips to press against his with desperation yet so much love. A kiss that had been coming for years. Building without either of us aware of its existence. It wasn’t long and lustful like Jere’s was. It was sweet and short. Just long enough to get across its impact. Just enough to take our breathes away.

His forehead rested on mine, his hands on mine and his eyes looking into mine. Breathing me in, letting us just be close for a moment, letting us just be there. Existing. And it was all so calming.

I always imagined this summer ending with Jeremiah and I celebrating our one year. His arms wrapped around me as we parted ways. I never could have imagined myself on the same beach it all started, the lips against mine not his, but his brothers. An old love becoming a new love. The beginning.

#conrad fisher #conrad x reader #conrad fisher angst #tsitp jeremiah #jeremiah fisher #jeremiah x reader

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resurrectionist3 · 2 months ago

Text

Timex

Daniel Cleaver x fem!Reader (18+)

✒️ - 12/25/2024 🔏 - 01/08/2025

⏳ - 5,563 words

⚠️CW - 18+ NSFW, oral stimulation (p in mouth), no p in v (yet), general smut, Daniel Cleaver and his sliminess (his presence deserves a warning)

✧─── ⋆⋅ ✧⋅⋆ ───✧

📜 - A fairly new hire is getting ready for a very important meeting at her job as the co editor in chief at Pemberley Press. To her surprise, she seems to have lost her favorite wristwatch.

At work, she manages to find it ... on the desk of her most insufferable colleague.

Author's Note - First fan fiction posted to Tumblr, I cannot believe it's for this man. It is actually inspired by the fact that I lost my favorite watch just before Christmas - don't ask how my brain decided to write a fan fiction because of it. I did manage to find it while I wrote this so, that's a win for me. Yes, Frankie is inspired by Francis Abernathy from The Secret History. And yes, the presence of an author named Miles Finch does indeed imply that this fan fiction and this version of Daniel Cleaver do exist in the same universe as the 2003 Christmas comedy film, Elf, starring Will Ferrel. Our beloved Mr. Reed will be here soon, I promise. But I fear I must get this freak out of my system before I can focus on the other one.

✧─── ⋆⋅ ✧⋅⋆ ───✧

“Chilly morning in London today, with a high of 4 degrees and a low of -1° tonight! Expect light flurries this evening with-” The cheerful English news reporter said in his routine chatter about the weather forecast. I poured out a decent serving of cat food for my sweet Argo and sat down to my own breakfast. Turning down the television volume and opening my work notebook, I reviewed the notes from the previous day regarding today’s very important meeting, with a very important author.

I furrowed my brows as I read the author’s scribbled name, Miles Finch, trying to remember where else I had heard of him outside of work.

My eyes drifted lower on the page to a different name that I had written down - one that made my heart race and my cheeks blush. Daniel Cleaver, my insufferably attractive colleague and co-editor in chief at Pemberley Press. Our boss, Mr. Fitzherbert, thought it would be some wonderful idea for us to work together preparing for this meeting; the loyal employee of several years teaching the new hire ‘all the way from Boston, Massachusetts’. Weeks spent working a little too closely with Daniel, all leading up to today. To be completely honest, it took its toll on me. One can only take so much of him and his arrogance.

And his smile … his eyes … his voice … his-

“Ugh,” I caught my mind wandering and stopped, nearly choking on my morning coffee. “Enough of that, (y/n).” I said to myself as I stood from the table.

I carefully chose a CD to play while I got dressed, settling on one burned by my friend back home. The first song, some obscure 80s pop tune, filled my room as I made my way to the closet.

“Miniskirt and blouse,” I pondered out loud, pulling the outfit from the rack. “Or, black suit dress?”

Eyeing both choices, I tried to decide which outfit would warrant the best response during the meeting. I looked again at the miniskirt momentarily, blushing as I recalled the … effect it seemed to have on my intolerable associate when I last wore it.

The way Daniel eyed me that entire day was undeniable. I had been rather used to his stares after 6 months of working with him, but that was different. The way he bit his lip as those icy blue eyes wandered to places they definitely shouldn’t…

“No,” I said quickly, dropping the skirt onto my bed. “Absolutely no distractions today. Suit dress it is.”

After finishing my outfit and makeup, I only had a few minutes before I had to leave. I gathered my things, listing off everything important: ‘notebook, car keys, bag, coat, scarf…’

I prattled off my belongings in my head as I stopped at my vanity one last time. ‘Necklace, rings, wristwatch-’ I named each item as I put it on, but-

‘Wristwatch…?’ I froze mid-list as I realized my favorite watch was nowhere in sight. I opened every drawer, brows furrowed as I searched all over the apartment. I thought of anywhere it could possibly be, and yet, still nothing.

I stopped and sighed at the new mess I had made in my hunt. Clothes and jewelry strewn over my unmade bed after my unceremonious rummage around.

‘I wore it yesterday.. I remember that,’ I thought to myself, stood amongst the disarray. ‘Then.. where did it go afterwards?'

Figuring it would be easily found on my desk at work, I relented. I took all my things and left the apartment, throwing on my scarf and coat once inside the elevator.

In the car, my mind drifted back to the watch. After earning this perfect job at Pemberley, I bought anything I wanted. Expensive jewelry, designer clothes, a new car - even my fancy apartment in London after relocating. I could probably buy 7 of the same basic black and gold Timex watch, but this one was special to me.

“I’m being quite honest, Frankie, I can't find it anywhere,” I sigh over the phone to my best friend. “I looked all over my apartment, all over my work desk, even asked our security guard if he’d seen it. I fear it’s gone.” I slouched a little in my desk chair as I came to my upsetting realization.

“Please, (y/n), it’s not that serious. It’s a small thing, I’ll buy you a new one if you like.” Frankie said, his voice as cool and unconcerned as always. Franklin Arkwright; assistant to the CEO of our partner publishing company back home in Boston. He was my oldest friend, and the one who managed to get me the job at Pemberley in the first place.

I stood from my chair and paced about my office, the phone cord pulling as I walked around my desk. “It’s not just a small thing, Frankie. You know how much I love that watch, and I don't enjoy losing my belongings.” My hand went to my (y/hc) hair as I sighed again. I turned around, going to the opposite side of the room when I accidentally locked eyes with him.

Daniel Cleaver’s office sat inconveniently right beside mine, both spaces walled completely with floor to ceiling glass (I preferred more privacy myself, but the sleek and modern look was just so in these days).

My heart quickened for a moment, sending a strange pulse through my chest as his blue eyes met mine, a smirk appearing on his face. I managed a smile back as he waved, still talking to whoever was on his own phone. He eyed me up and down as he always did, his gaze lingering on my choice of dress; the dress that I suddenly realized had such a low neckline.

I scoffed and looked away from his irritating stares, my eyes moving to his desk instead. Frankie continued on in my ear about something his mother had said as I scanned the organized mess of Daniel’s workspace. Stacked papers and folders, pens and pencils, a paper coffee cup, my watch, a stapler-

My watch?

My eyes widened at the undeniable sight of my wristwatch sitting on the desk of none other than Daniel fucking Cleaver. The black leather wristband and gold rimmed clock face was recognizable even from where I stood. I looked back up to him as he paced about his own office, talking away on his phone. He seemed either unaware that it was there, or he at least didn't care.

'How on earth did it get there?’ I thought to myself as I wracked my brain, finally remembering yesterday’s encounter.

✧─── ⋆⋅ ✧⋅⋆ ───✧

In the meeting room, Daniel leaned against the long table as I went over my checklist for a final time. “Right, the presentation is finished, I wrote up my little spiel. Do you have yours ready, Cleaver?” I asked and instantly rolled my eyes as I caught him staring where he shouldn’t. Again.

“Yes, yes, (y/ln), I’ll get on that straight away,” He said briskly, reluctantly meeting my eyes. I could tell he was very distracted, and likely hadn’t heard a word that I said.

“Daniel, please just know that if you fuck up this meeting and make a fool of me, I will have your head for it.” I said in a casual voice, returning to my written list.

“Noted. Thank you, (y/ln)” Daniel responded coolly. I caught his eyes wandering again and shot him a glare. Perhaps he felt bad for not listening to me, or more than likely, he was trying to play off his stares as he leaned off the table and walked closer.

“You know, (y/n), I never noticed how nice your watch is,” He said, tilting his head as he looked at the clock on my wrist. “I think I like it.”

I furrowed my brows at his out-of-place comment and looked at him skeptically. “Well, I do wear it everyday, Daniel. How have you not mentioned it before?” Daniel just shrugged in response, eyes still on my wrist.

“The gold suits you quite nicely,” He said pensively, almost as if he didn’t mean to say it out loud. Daniel gently reached out for my hand, and asked for a closer look. Confused, I set down my notebook and pen, taking the watch from my wrist. Our hands brushed momentarily as I set the watch in his palm, making my heart skip annoyingly. As he examined it, I went back to my list and finished going over everything for tomorrow.

Before I could say another word to Daniel, Mr. Fitzherbert had entered and asked for me. The last thing I remembered was taking my notebook and pen, and hurrying out - leaving my favorite watch with Daniel. Fucking. Cleaver.

✧─── ⋆⋅ ✧⋅⋆ ───✧

“(y/n)...? (Y/N)??” Frankie repeated over the phone, taking me out of my memory. “Are you still there, babe?”

I let out a laugh and took a breath as I realized I was still on the phone with him. “Y-yea, I’m still here, Frankie.. But I think I should go. I, uhm, I found my watch.”

Without another word, I said goodbye and hung up the phone. Daniel had also finished his own phone call and was standing by the window, reading some documents. I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose as I contemplated actually going over there. After all, it IS just a watch. But, it was still my favorite one.

I readjusted my dress and made my way to Daniel’s office, entering politely. “Afternoon, Mr. Cleaver,” I said with the nicest smile I could manage. “Today’s the day! Big meeting with Miles Finch. I hope you’re ready!”

Daniel flashed me a smile - that terribly charming smile of his. “Good afternoon to you, Miss (y/ln). To what do I owe this lovely intrusion?”

From the look he gave me I could tell, he knew what I was there for. My eyes went from him to my watch, sat right on his desk beside his computer, almost displayed like some kind of trophy. I lost my fake smile and relaxed, crossing my arms. “I’m here to see if you're prepared. And to take my watch back; I’ve been looking for it all morning.”

Daniel looked confused and taken aback by my statement. “Your watch..? (y/ln), you must be barking, I don’t have your watch.”

I narrowed my eyes at him and walked towards his desk. I wasn’t in any mood for his games today. “Yes, Daniel. This watch, it’s mine.” I reached out to take it, just as he bent over the desk and picked it up himself.

“Oh, this watch? Odd, what is it doing here? Are you sure it’s yours?” Daniel said while he examined it just like he did the day prior. I rolled my eyes at him and his antics.

“Yesterday.. The meeting room? You asked to see it and then I had to go.” I recalled briefly, still irritated with his little act. “I really have been looking for it all morning, I’ve been worried half to death.”

Daniel’s eyes widened in fake shock. “Half to death? God, (y/ln), it’s just a watch,” He said, turning it over in his hands. “Why do you wear it everyday? It's a bit worse for wear, isn't it? Scratches in the glass here, creasing in the wristband. And, oh dear, is that a crack? Surely, they pay you enough to buy a nicer one.”

I glared at him from the other side of his desk and huffed in anger. “It’s very special to me, Daniel. My dear friend, Frankie, gave it to me before I left home to move here. It used to belong to him; he knew I loved it so much,” I stopped myself and sighed. Something told me that it was futile to try and explain the emotional value of a wristwatch to someone like Daniel Cleaver. “It’s .. sentimental. Perhaps you’d understand if you had friends of your own, now I’d like to have it back please.”

The emphasis on my statement didn't seem to matter as Daniel just smiled to himself and looked back at my watch. “How dare you presume to know the status of my personal friendships,” He said after taking a gasp of fake offence.

I held my hand out for him to give the watch back, a silent plea for him to end this ridiculous nonsense. But to my confusion and irritation, instead of offering it back, he pulled back his sleeve and put it on. “You know, I think I'll hold onto it for you. Just for today, what do you think, (y/ln)?”

It was my turn to be taken aback now. “What, no- Cleaver, just give it to me,” I said, my already thin patience running thinner. “This isn’t grade school, what are we, confiscating each other’s belongings now..?”

Daniel said nothing as he walked around his desk and stopped in front of me - a little too close for a colleague. “You can come back and collect it at the end of the day. Stay later tonight.. If you want it back, then you’ll know where to find me, hmm?” He said, his voice patronizing. Yet, quiet and … suggestive. He was so close, I could smell his cologne - a familiar fragrance from Jo Malone. He lifted his hand and I held my breath, ready for him to do something deranged, like brush back my hair or caress my cheek. Hell, he was close enough to lean in for a kiss.

Instead, he looked over my shoulder at my watch on his wrist to check the time. “Well look at that.. It’s time to meet Miles Finch,” Daniel said with a quick smile as he stepped back to his desk to pick up some documents. According to the clock on his wall, he was right - ten minutes until 3pm. A few people from different departments even walked by Daniel’s office and into the elevator, clearly on their way to the meeting room.

Daniel walked past me quickly and I followed behind to retrieve my own things from my office, just as he stopped and turned back.

“Hot dress, by the way, (y/ln),” He started, making my cheeks blush red. “With a neckline that low, I’m sure you won’t even need your notes in order to convince them.”

I gasped and tried to interject as he made his way out to the elevator.

The meeting came and went, ending on a high note with Miles Finch agreeing to our proposed contract for his upcoming book series. It was truly a triumph; after weeks of hard work and preparation, it actually paid off. The entire meeting room filed out, talking happily and shaking hands with one another with a few minutes to spare before the end of the work day. I was approached numerous times by colleagues and representatives visiting from our New York location, congratulating me and Daniel on a job well done. As the building slowly emptied, I retreated back to my office and opened my computer to start on some extra work. I hadn’t forgotten about what Daniel said. And I certainly hadn't forgotten about my damned wristwatch.

There were five separate invitations to go out for drinks with everyone from the meeting. And I really did wish to attend. Perhaps for a chance to earn a spot within Miles Finch’s good graces (he was said to be a difficult man to please), but I declined every single one. “Such hard workers, you and Mr. Cleaver are. You make an excellent team, I’m quite glad to have hired you.” Mr. Fitzherbert said when he heard that Daniel and I wished to stay late to ‘get ahead’ on the next big project.

‘Oh yes,’ I thought to myself. ‘I'm sure we’ll be working very hard tonight.’ It was the only thought I had in my mind as the boss praised us. Checking my email for a final time before I got to work, I noticed a new message. The sender’s name made me sigh and curse as I clicked it open.

‘45 minutes, floor will be empty.

50 minutes, after George does his rounds, you know what to do.

-DC’

The wall clock ticked away at an agonizingly slow pace. A few times, I even caught myself instinctually turning my wrist to check the time, and cursing under my breath when I found nothing there. When the time finally arrived, George, the security guard walked casually past my glass-walled office. We exchanged polite waves and I watched him walk through the room and out, heading for the stairwell. I recognized my moment, and turned off my computer. I took my things as if I were ready to leave: packed my notebook and pen into my bag, gathered up my coat and scarf, and made the dreadful walk of shame to Daniel’s office door. I felt his eyes on me as I hesitated outside, wondering again if this was all really worth it. I knew I wasn’t just going to walk in, collect my trinket, and go. It would never be that easy with Daniel.

“About time, (y/ln), took you long enough to finally open the door. Having second thoughts?” Daniel said, without looking up from his computer screen.

“Actually, yes,” I confessed, putting my belongings down on the chair by the door. “Am I going to regret coming in here, Cleaver..?” I gave him a sincere look of worry. His expression visibly softened as he stood from his desk and walked over. He stopped in front of me, just like he had done earlier. Except this time, there was no one around to see us. No one to watch him do something deranged… like brushing back my hair, or caressing my cheek. Or..

“Daniel,” I whispered, pulling away when he leaned in. My hand went to his chest, ghosting against the bare skin where his dress shirt was left unbuttoned. “Please - don’t risk our positions, or our jobs, for this silliness.” Daniel responded with a soft smile as his hand went to my cheek, caressing it gently.

“It’s only a problem if we’re caught, (y/n).” Daniel began, his other hand trailing slowly up my side and to my waist. He pulled me against him and I stumbled a little, falling against Daniel’s chest and fully into his arms - right where he wanted me. “And if we are, which we won’t be, I’ll take the blame. It’s my idea after all. I’ll risk my position and my job… not yours.”

Somehow, Daniel’s own version of a sacrifice was endearing enough to make me blush furiously. I opened my mouth to protest, just to be met with his thumb gliding gently over my bottom lip. “It’s alright, (y/n),” He whispered with an amused smile on his face. He winked and I couldn't help but return the smile. Daniel backed away briefly, pulling me by the arm to his desk where I settled against it. He resumed his place in front of me, pulling me back into his embrace. “I’ve got it all figured out… and I've got you.”

I felt myself physically relax at Daniel’s words - more relaxed than I’ve ever felt while being with him. I raised my eyebrows at his statement, sighing against his lips. “You always have everything figured out, don't you Daniel?” Before he could give me one of his clever responses, I closed the gap between us and pressed my lips to his. Just to shut him up.

His hand settled on my hip, keeping me pinned against his desk. I let my own hands move up his chest, and over his shoulders. One hand rest on the back of his neck, while the other went up into his hair, getting tangled in his dark locks. He let out a moan against my lips, and I couldn't help my mischievous smile.

“Excuse my enthusiasm, (y/n),” Daniel began, pulling away only enough to form words. “But I have been fucking dying to get you like this since the day I met you.” It was my turn to be amused now. I smiled and bit my bottom lip, delighted to see him this flustered. “Oh, I can tell, Daniel,” The feeling of his growing erection against me was enough to know that he was serious. I let my hands fall from their work in his hair, dropping one to his shoulder and the other to the desk behind me. It rested beside Daniel’s left hand, my fingers ghosting over his. “To make a confession of my own, I’ve always found you rather attractive - hot as fuck, even. But your insufferable arrogance was often far to much for me to bear.”

Daniel laughed against my neck as he dipped down to kiss the sensitive skin there, earning a breathy moan from me. I moved my hand from the desktop, gliding over his hand and to his wrist, where I felt the undeniable outline of my watch. I quickly moved my hand up, tightening around his forearm as he nipped at my neck, hoping he wouldn’t get suspicious. “Daniel…” I moaned to him, making him hold my waist tighter in response. My other hand slid off his shoulder and down his back to distract him while I began to remove my watch from his wrist.

‘Almost…’ I thought and let out a sigh when I felt the leather strap slide from the small buckle. Daniel bit into my neck harder than he had before, and I gasped sharply. He paused, bringing his quest to cover me in love bites to a close. “Don’t stop, please,” I pleaded, nearly whining for him. Not only was I close to finally getting my watch back, but the physical contact actually felt too good to lose. I felt Daniel smirk against my lips as he pulled away from me completely, my hand drifting off his shoulder and lingering outstretched for him.

“You almost had me, (y/n),” Daniel said while he fastened my watch back onto his wrist. “Don’t make me restrain you, (y/ln). Play fairly and you’ll get what you came here for.”

I roll my eyes and groan, crossing my arms in front of me. “Fine, Daniel. What must I do to get my precious watch back?” Daniel put a hand to his heart and gasped.

“You wound me, (y/n), honestly,” He paced to the side of the desk, leaning on it bringing our faces inches apart once again. “I had hoped that what you wanted from me wasn't just your watch.”

“Daniel-” I scolded, as if he were a child. He was surely acting like one. He just laughed and held up his hands in surrender after taking a step away. “Alright, (y/ln), alright. I need you to do something for me. A favor, I suppose.” His voice dropped in volume as he finished. I chewed the inside of my lip, eyeing him cautiously.

“Like what? Take over a project for you? Cover for you while you run off to some broom closet or storage room with one of the interns?” Daniel approached me with that damned smile on his face again. The one that first made my heart race. The one that could convince me to do anything.

“Bold of you to assume I’d be running off with anyone other than you, (y/ln). But no, nothing like that,” He paused, seemingly thinking. His tongue traced his bottom lip as his eyes scanned over my face while his hand absentmindedly rubbed my thigh beneath my skirt. “Well, you are quite good with this mouth of yours.”

My eyes widened and my lips parted in my shock. ‘Oh, surely not.’

“I don’t suppose you mean I have a chance of talking my way out of this?” I asked, trying desperately to avoid what I knew he was implying. Daniel shook his head, still enamored by me as he resumed his kissing along my jaw and down my neck. “Come now, (y/n), don’t play innocent. It’s a poor act, and it doesn't look good on you.”

He kisses and roughly nips at a spot just below my jaw, making me crane my head back and sigh. He pulled away again and looked at me. I had never seen his blue eyes look so dark.

‘No. No. No way. Tell him no, say-’

“Fine,” I nodded to Daniel’s desk chair, telling him to sit as I pulled my hair back. I bit my lip to hide a smile as he scrambled to take his seat. I stole a pen off his desk and stuck it into my makeshift updo, securing it in place.

I left my spot on the front of the desk, rounding it to stand between Daniel’s legs. The outline of his cock was apparent even through his dark trousers as I lowered myself down between his legs. The only sounds for a moment were heavy breaths and Daniel’s zipper sliding down. He shifted in his seat, pushing his trousers down slightly. I took a breath and paused when I slid my fingers around the waistband of his underwear. I hesitated for a moment, making Daniel hum in amusement from above me. I looked up at him, eyes locked with his.

“You’re really doing this, (y/n)?” He said, surely meaning to challenge me. His arm was propped by his elbow on the armrest of the desk chair. My Timex watch sat, still fastened to Daniel’s wrist, looking almost like it was meant to be there. The gold hardware glinted in the low lights in the office and I felt my chest tighten at the thought of Daniel Fucking Cleaver keeping one of my most treasured possessions forever. “Of course I am,” I say, settling onto my knees and slowly letting my hands slide under Daniel’s dress shirt, up and down the sides of his torso. “I want my fucking watch back.”

Daniel nodded and readjusted himself in his seat, leaning back like a king on his throne. “Go on then Miss (y/ln). Use that pretty mouth of yours… take what you came here for.” I smiled back and rolled my eyes, letting my gaze settle on Daniel and his endearing grin. “Yes, right away, Mr. Cleaver.”

I slid my fingers into his waistband again and pulled them, no hesitation this time. My eyes widened a bit when his cock sprang free from its constraints. He was admittedly very large. Daniel let out a groan as I took him in hand and licked his tip playfully. I continued my teasing, enjoying the sounds of Daniel nearly whimpering.

“O-ohhh, (y/n).. enough of that, please.” He begged, dropping his left hand to my face. Daniel held my chin up with one, and with the other began to stroke his cock, positioning it in front of my mouth. “No more teasing if you want your watch back.” I nodded obediently, which pleased him.

“Now, (y/n), if you’d be so kind, just- ohhh, fuck,” Happy to quiet him, I took him into my mouth, going as deep as I comfortably could. I breathed slowly and deliberately, ensuring that I didn’t choke too severely.

I felt Daniel’s hand snake around to the back my neck and hold me, tangling into the hair at the base. I moaned as he began to guide my head back and forth; slowly and gently. I shut my eyes for a moment, focusing on my breathing again. He was so much … more than what I had experienced in the past, and I was not accustomed to it.

I felt Daniel move his hand from my chin and I opened my eyes slowly. His head was thrown back in ecstasy, his groans and whispers filling his office space. I pulled off his cock and trailed my tongue along the length of it, earning a hiss and a long moan of my name. I looked up again, hoping to catch his gaze and instead was met with the clockface of my watch on his wrist as his hand held the base of his cock. I stared at it before me, as I closed my lips around him again.

‘He’s doing it on purpose, surely,’ I thought as his moans became a bit louder.

“(y/n), fuck. I’m close, darling, so close-” Daniel groaned, his hold tightening on the back of my neck. I hummed and hollowed my cheeks as I took him, enjoying the sounds of his cries.

I glanced up through my eyelashes and watched as he reached his climax, finishing into my mouth. I shut my eyes, swallowing what I could as Daniel’s hold on my neck loosened completely and his hand fell while he relaxed.

“God, you are good Miss (y/ln). Fuck,” He groaned, fixing his clothes and redressing. I paused and patted his thigh gently, while I turned and spit the rest of his cum into the wastebin beneath his desk. Daniel watched as I casually stood and wiped at my mouth, rubbing off what remained of my lipstick. “Too much for you, darling?” He said, making me roll my eyes. I leaned forward, resting my hands on the chair’s armrests. My lips grazed Daniel’s tauntingly as I let my tongue glide over his bottom lip. “Is there anything else you require of me, Mr. Cleaver?” I asked with the best demure voice I could manage.

Daniel groaned again, seemingly close to giving into me. “(y/n), darling…” He whispered, holding my face gently. “I thought I told you the innocent act isn’t your thing. Besides, as badly as I need to bend you over and fuck you on this desk, George’s next round is going to start soon and I’m confident that you don’t want him to find us like that.”

I stood and let him stand from his chair. “How do you know the security guard’s patrolling routine so well?”

Daniel grinned. “My sweet, (y/n), why do you think?”

I didn’t give him an answer. Instead I scoffed at him and fixed the collar of my dress, crossing the room to pick up my belongings. “Oh, now I’ve earned the silent treatment have I?” Daniel leaned against his desk, watching me put on my scarf and coat. I failed to hide a smile when I watched him attempt to seem as though he wasn’t crying my name a moment ago. I crossed the room again, back over to Daniel and extended my hand wordlessly. He rolled his eyes and sighed, carefully removing the watch on his wrist.

He lowered it into my palm and I nodded. “Thank y-,”

“On second thought,” Daniel began, cutting me off and pulling my watch away again. “I think I’ll hold onto it a little bit longer. Just until tomorrow evening, that alright, (y/ln)?”

My cheeks went warm while I watched him put the watch into his pocket and put on his own coat. I huffed, admittedly like a child, and crossed my arms. “Oh, was I not good enough?” I asked, a little too loudly. He shook his head.

“Oh no, darling, you were wonderful. Too good for me to let this little game end right now. What do you say to … The Ritz? Tomorrow evening?” Daniel took his own things and walked to the door of his office. “I do owe you after all. I fear I’ve robbed you of a lovely night of drinks with our colleagues.”

I followed him out of the room and over to the elevator, waiting for the doors to open. “I'd say I've never been,” I confessed. “You do know you can ask me out to dinner without holding my wristwatch hostage, right?”

Daniel shrugged, sliding his arm around my waist as we watched the numbers of the floors descend. “Sure, but this is just more fun,” He leaned down, his lips grazing against my ear as he whispered, making my chest tighten. “It’s like getting back at you for those revealing outfits you’ve been wearing here - especially that little miniskirt you have.” I shivered as his fingers made gentle circles on my waist.

He lifted his head, and stood up straight just in time for the doors to open again. George was indeed on his second round of the empty building, having left the other security guard at the front desk. We waved goodbye and were met with a cold wind beyond the front doors of Pemberley Press, the flurries mentioned on the news this morning already making their appearance. I paused to button up my coat, as Daniel examined my Timex watch yet again.

“You know, (y/ln), I really do think this watch suits me nearly as well as it suits you.” He said, putting it back into the pocket of his trousers. I rolled my eyes and faced him. “Oh sure. Perhaps once we’re all done here you can get one of your OWN.” I heard Daniel’s laugh echoing behind me as I walked away from him. As I reached my car, I got inside and started it up wondering how on earth I was going to explain this situation to Frankie when I called him on the phone at my apartment.

✧─── ⋆⋅ ✧⋅⋆ ───✧

I hope you all enjoyed!! Potentially scheming a Part II at some point, but please let me know what you think!

#hugh grant #daniel cleaver x reader #love to my friends #this is for you <3 #dw no mark darcy in this one #im sorry to the heretic girlies #i will write for mr reed soon as promised #please enjoy ... this guy in the meantime #colin firth #hugh grant fan fiction #Daniel Cleaver #bridget jones's diary #x reader #reader insert #hugh grant x reader

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artificial-transmutations · 10 months ago

Text

Friday Friendship

Hey there! This one is kind of a spiritual successor to Calling the Plumber - and as such, it is one of the rare gay to straight stories of mine. While I do try to keep it friendly and without any homophobia or hate, feel free not read the story if you don't like g2s!

It was hard to overlook Montgomery and Archibald. Of course, that was always the case. But here, on the dirty construction site of their new home, the expensive silk suits of the couple stood out even more than elsewhere. Yes, the two of them were together - and they made sure everybody knew it. Not only were the two gentlemen standing in a tight hug whenever possible, but their flamboyant and colorful clothing left little doubt about their sexuality.

They were those kind of gays that conservatives were afraid of. Both were old enough to have been alive during the stonewall riots, although only Montgomery was actually there as a teenager. Still, the aged couple embodied everything the gay community prided itself on having achieved during the last decades.

Their house, too, would be a statement. The mansion was the largest construction in the area, and the most expensive one. It was going to be built on a large hill, overlooking the town, and its style was... extravagant. The house was to be built in a modern architectural style, but the two men had insisted that the walls would be entirely covered in rainbow colors, although that was still in the future by now. Surrounding the mansion would be a magnificent garden, a park even.

"My dear, are you satisfied with the construction?" Archibald asked his husband in his lime green suit. Montgomery had dyed his hair in an orange-pink tone today and wore a purple tie to his green suit. It was hardly the first building site he visited, since he had made a fortune in real estate.

Archibald, on the other hand, was a bit more conservatively dressed. His suit was a more subdued shade of beige, although his tie was of a bright sky blue color. He usually didn't dye his hair, and today was no exception: He wore the gray with pride, although he spent a fortune on hair and skin care products. He, too, had a respectable job as a top manager in a logistics company.

"Well, darling, I'm not sure yet." Montgomery replied. "I want it to look great, and the work has been good so far. But frankly, it feels that the workers motivation is somewhat underwhelming."

"I think I know what you mean, my dear." Archibald commented as they walked through the empty shell. "It is barely three in the afternoon on a Friday, and there isn't anyone around anymore. The workers must be out partying already. I can't fault them for that, but it is rather annoying, isn't it?"

"Indeed. It would have been nice if they were a little less lazy, though. The garden is behind schedule, and I believe the electrics are going to be delayed by another month."

"That is quite unfortunate."

Montgomery nodded and they walked a bit in silence. It was true. There was still a lot to do, and it looked like the workers left early for the weekend.

Finally, Archibald sighed.

"I guess I could take a look at the progress the electricians are making. I do know a bit or two about this. Maybe then we can talk to the foreman about their work. It's a pity that we cannot supervise every little thing here, but our jobs demand a lot of our time. If only we had a bit more hands-on control."

"My, what a fabulous idea! I will take a stroll through the garden then, to get a better picture there."

The husbands kissed each other on the lips as they split up and Archibald opened the fuse box. He had indeed done a bit of electrical maintenance in his prime, so he knew that what he saw in the box was nothing less than a mess. He sighed and was about to close the box again, but hesitated. No, he couldn't leave the mess like that. He would just tidy things up a bit, to show those inexperienced workers how it was done.

Carefully, he began to work on the wires, but before long, he felt uncomfortable. The fuse box was located in the bright afternoon sun, and it was just positively hot here. Still, not wanting to leave his work, he slipped out of his jacket and hung it over a nearby wall. He didn't notice that the piece of clothing disappeared once he turned away, nor did he notice that his hands became nimbler as he rearranged the wires.

Montgomery on the other hand found the garden construction even less advanced than he had hoped. Even worse, someone had left a few plants out in the heat. They would surely be dead by the time the construction continued on Monday. Montgomery couldn't let that happen. This garden would be beautiful, and no plant would die under his watch.

He carefully carried the plants to the place they were supposed to be. Of course, he knew - he had planned the park all by himself, so he knew where everything was supposed to go. As he arrived at the shady place, he understood why the plants hadn't been placed yet. The ground was wet and muddy, and there weren't any holes yet. He would need to talk to the foreman about that, but the man was surely already in the weekend as well. There was, however, a shovel nearby. Now, aside from ceremonial groundbreaking, Montgomery had never held a shovel. It wasn't that he didn't understand the concept, but he was just not the type for physical labor.

Well. He looked over his shoulder to his husband, who was apparently still busy looking at the fuse box. It seems like he had some time on his hands, so he might as well. Grimacing, he grabbed the shovel and carefully stepped on the soil, trying not to ruin his expensive shoes or pants. That worked well, for about two steps. But as soon as he tried to break the ground with the shovel, a big clump of wet soil splattered on his lime green silk pants.

Montgomery frowned. Well, that suit was ruined anyway. No reason to stop there. Determined, he pulled the shirt out of his pants and opened his vest. He wasn't going to ruin his custom tailored suit for no reason.

Meanwhile, Archie was getting into his work even more. From time to time, he had to wipe his brow, though, as he was sweating like an animal. His dress shirt was stained with multiple sweat stains already and didn't really *look* like a dress shirt anymore, but more casual. The same could be said for the rest of Archie as well. A certain youth had returned to his face, as he was concentrated on his work. This way, he didn't notice when his hairstyle dissolved into an unkempt mess or when a bit of stubble grew in on his chin. His shirt clung to his body now, drenched in sweat. It had long ceased to be a dress shirt though but had become a plain - although rather filthy - beige t-shirt. His tie was nowhere to be seen.

Due to the wetness, the shirt didn't leave much to imagination regarding his body. Not just his face had rejuvenated, no, his entire body had. He was leaner and his muscles firmer now. Out of the V-neck of his sweaty shirt poked a few golden hairs, and before long, his main hair had turned into a Nordic blonde, as well.

Meanwhile, Monty was digging like crazy. He had to get those plants in the ground, or the foreman would... Wait, what was he thinking?

He stopped for a moment, to scratch his head. Thinking was not his strong point, and Monty knew that. But he had other qualities, that made up for that. When he grabbed the shovel again, to keep digging, he heard a ripping sound that made him stop again. The shoulder of his shirt had ripped. His boss was going to kill him! Although, it appeared somewhat strange to him that he was wearing such a colorful and impractical shirt. Perhaps there weren't any other shirts left?

He looked around and saw only one of the electricians still on the site. He knew the guy, he was friendly enough. He surely wouldn't mind if Monty went shirtless for a bit. With an effort not to damage the clothing even more, he peeled out of the garment. He was only half successful with that, and a few more rips sounded before he had finished taking it off.

Monty looked down at his muscular and hairy torso. The cold air was good, and he wasn't afraid to get dirty.

With every movement of the shovel, his arm muscles tightened, and his frame filled out more. A short beard sprouted on his chin, and his now full earthy brown hair shortened to a more practical cut. It wasn't like he had money for an expensive hairdresser, after all.

Finally, he had the holes ready and wiped his hands on his sturdy pair of work pants. Now, he only had to put the plants in. Despite his impressive physique, Manny was always very careful with the flowers, and he made sure that none of the roots got damaged or that he didn't break the stem.

He looked at his work. Good, that would look great, once the plants grew. Someday, he would have a garden of his own, and a house like that. And a beautiful wife and two, no, three children. But that was still a long way to go, with his poor pay.

Someone behind him cursed and Manny looked back to the electrician.

Chad was still sweating like crazy as he worked the wires. His mates had all gone to the clubs by now and he was stuck here and had to fix the mess he had created. That was only fair, but he wished the foreman wouldn't have noticed until Monday. He had to hurry up, though. He didn't want to spend his Friday night on the site, after all. Perhaps he would even get lucky and find a guy... No, what was he thinking? Working on these fruits' house had made him all confused. No, perhaps he would find a busty bombshell to take home tonight. Chad felt his cock growing hard at the thought, creating an obvious bulge in his work pants. Great, more distraction.

Chad tried to readjust himself, just in time as he sensed the big burly gardener approach. He knew the guy loosely but had forgotten his name already - if he even had known it at all.

"Hey, everything alright with them wires?" the low voice of the brute asked in a friendly tone.

"Yeah, I just need to finish up here... Should be done aaaaany minute now..."

Manny watched Chad connect the last wires. Poor guy. His t-shirt was soaked with sweat, and he looked like he was really hot and stressed out.

"Cool. It's no fun working late, and on a Friday. Hey, do you want to hit a bar after that? I could go for a cold one."

Chad looked over his shoulder at the bear of a man. Was that guy hitting on him? Na, his face only showed dumb innocence.

He shrugged. "Sure, why not, eh..."

"Name's Manny." Manny said.

"Great. Manny." Chad said and closed the now somewhat better looking fuse box before wiping away his sweat once more.

"I'm Chad."

Manny and Chad left the building site together this Friday afternoon. Neither of them knew that they were going to become best friends over this and many more beers. Manny turned out to be a great wingman for Chad, and Chad even ended up as Manny's best man during his wedding and godfather for his first child. Sometimes the closest friendships are forged in the Friday afternoon sun of a construction site.

#male transformation #muscle transformation #dumbing down #sweat #gay to straight #age reduction

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