#wait is prev german

[yuhi-san]

Hmm u vömer ar nid erscht vo dialekte ah, oder was dialekt isch odr was nid

,,,el problema es el monolinguismo,,,,,,

[fxrmuladaydreams]

austrailian kisses (sv5) (dr3)

pornstar!seb x reader , pornstar!daniel x reader

summary: you take seb’s advice to broaden your horizons and spend some time with his austrailian friend

notes: this may be the filthiest thing i’ve ever written.

warnings: !! CONTAINS SMUT, MINORS DNI !! bondage, oral (f receiving), sex toys (vibrator), overstimulation

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You were hesitant to text Daniel. How were you meant to go about this? Should you just come out with it and ask to collaborate with him? He did say he was a fan, but he just being nice?

You swallow your nerves and shoot him a text saying hello and introducing yourself.

To Daniel

Hey Daniel, it’s Y/n, the girl that Sebastian was filming with last week. He gave me your phone number so that I could message you.

I was wondering if you wanted to try to film something together? If not, I get it. It was nice meeting you the other day.

You throw your phone to the other side of your bed and bury your face in your hands. How was Sebastian able to be so confident when he asked you to collaborate?

A few minutes later your phone buzzes, the screen lighting up with a notification.

From Daniel

Hey Y/n, of course I remember you, I wasn’t lying when I said I was a fan. I’d love to work on something with you.

You let out a breath then text him back, making plans to meet in person.

You felt odd, waiting for Daniel at a cafe. Your mind flashed back to the nerves you had when meeting Sebastian for the first time, how he was effortlessly charming, and so easy to fall for. You shake the thoughts out of your head. You’re doing this to move on, to forget about Sebastian.

Daniel comes in wearing a cream colored hoodie with jeans, and a baseball cap over his head. He grins when he sees you. You reach a hand out to shake his, he grabs it pulling you into a hug.

He’s got a smile plastered on his face, and his eyes are bright and warm. He pays for your drink and a few pastries for you to share, scoffing when you try to pull your own wallet out to pay.

“Don’t even try it sweetheart.” He smiles, handing the cashier his card.

Daniel is different than you thought he’d be. He’s always so controlling and commanding in his videos, but in person he’s all smiles and soft touches. He’s sunshine personified.

“Have you seen my stuff?” He asks when there’s a break in the conversation. “I watched your videos with Seb, and I feel like I should tell you I’m a lot more… dominant… than he is.”

You feel a thrill run through you at his words. “I’ve seen your videos.” You nod. “But I want that. I want what Sebastian couldn’t give me.” You ignore the double meaning in your words.

Daniel smirks. “Alright then sweetheart.”

You make plans to go back to the studio to film the next day. You feel odd getting ready. Knowing that soon someone will start knocking on your door, but it won’t be the blonde German you’ve grown accustomed to.

You scold yourself for hoping to see Sebastian when you do hear knocking, and feel a little disappointed when you see Daniel standing at your door.

“Ready to go?” He asks.

You nod, walking with him to his car. The ride is silent. You spend a good portion of it staring out the window, while Daniel keeps glancing over at you.

He sighs. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. It won’t hurt my feelings or anything.”

“No, no, I want to.” You reassure him.

“If you ever feel uncomfortable, remember the safe word. We’ll stop immediately, no questions asked.” He reminds you.

He helps you out of his car, and guides you inside with a hand on the small of your back. You feel your heart sink when he takes you to the room you had filmed Sebastian’s video in.

He looks down at you as he feels you tense up next to him. “Is this okay? We can go somewhere else if you want-”

“No. It’s fine.” You cut him off. “Let’s set up your camera.”

He gives you a hesitant nod, pulling out his camera and tripod from his bag.

“Alright, let’s get started.” You say once he’s finished setting up.

Daniel can tell something is off. You seem uncomfortable in this room, so he decides to try to use his charm to lighten the mood.

“Have you ever had an Australian kiss before?” He asks.

“What’s an Australian kiss?”

“It’s like a French kiss, but it’s down under.” He smirks as you feel your face warm up.

He pulls you clothes off of you, letting his hands wander each new expanse of skin that’s revealed. He takes your arms carefully to tie them up behind you. He tugs on the restraints, then lays you down, checking to make sure you’re still comfortable. He plays with your breasts before moving down to rest between your legs. He pulls them apart and softly strokes your folds.

“Look at how pretty you are.” He softly presses his thumb against your clit, pulling a gasp from you. “You’re so sensitive, aren’t you bunny?”

You feel a pain in your chest at the nickname, the one given to you by Sebastian, now being used by Daniel, but that’s quickly forgotten when you feel his finger slowly push inside you. You moan, lifting your hips up at the intrusion.

“Aww, such a needy little thing.” Daniel murmurs as he starts to curl his finger inside you. He pushes a second one inside you, his thick digits spreading you open further for him.

He stills his fingers in you, and smirks when you whine. “I know bunny, so desperate to get fucked? Why don’t you fuck yourself on my fingers.” He coos.

You rock your hips against his hand, hands gripping the bedsheets under you. You falter when his palm brushes against your clit, slowing the rhythm you created.

“You can’t get yourself off, can you? Do you need me to help you cum?”

“Yes, please!” You whine.

“I don’t believe you bunny. Beg me.”

You plead with him, your words falling out of your mouth quickly, desperate for him to make you cum.

He curls his fingers again once he’s satisfied, now fucking you roughly with them. He leans down and takes your clit in his mouth, rolling it against his tongue.

He feels you clench around his fingers and pulls himself away from your clit. “You’re so tight bunny, are you ready to cum?”

You nod quickly. “Yes, please make me cum, please!”

He takes your clit back in his mouth, sucking on it harshly. You feel yourself practically thrown over the edge as your orgasm hits you.

Daniel pulls his fingers out of you, replacing them with his tongue. He takes everything you give him, slurping obscenely from your cunt.

Just as you feel yourself start to come down from your high, he pushes his tongue back inside you. You let out a loud moan that turns into a whine as you feel his nose brush against your clit.

“C’mon bunny, you were just begging me to make you cum a second ago, isn’t this what you want?” He doesn’t wait for your response before he throws your legs over his shoulders and buries his face between them again.

He moans against your core, and looks up at you. “You taste delicious bunny.”

You feel a second orgasm quickly approaching, and before you can warn Daniel, you feel yourself release on his tongue.

Daniel licks up your cum, but pulls away shaking his head.

“Did I tell you that you could cum?” He asks. When you don’t answer, mind still a little fuzzy from your climax, he lands a sharp slap to your clit.

You yelp, attempting to pull your hips away from him.

“Don’t try and run away. I asked you a question bunny. Did I say you could cum?” He stands up now, practically towering over you.

“No, you didn’t.” You say, your eyes welling up with tears.

“Then I think I need to punish you. Turn you back into a good little bunny.” He says.

He steps away, leaving you wiggling around on the bed. You close your legs, feeling your release spread over your thighs.

When he comes back he holds a black vibrator in one hand, and tape in the other. He rests the toy against your thigh, making sure the head presses against your clit. He tapes it to you, making sure it’s secure.

“Remember the safe word?” He whispers in your ear.

“Yes Daniel.” You whisper back.

He nods before turning it on to the lowest setting.

You whine, twisting your hips around in an attempt to move away from the vibrations.

“You wanted to cum so bad, so now you’re going to cum until I’m finished watching you.” Daniel moves behind the camera, watching you through the viewfinder.

You lose count of how many orgasms you have, you mind far too cloudy to keep track. With every one Daniel walks back over to you and turns the vibrator up one setting, until it’s buzzing is arguably just as loud as your moans.

“I can’t- I can’t! No more, please!” You thrash, feeling a mix of pleasure and pain between your legs.

“C’mon bunny, give me one more good one, and I’ll stop it.” Daniel coaxes.

He doesn’t have to wait long for your past orgasm to shoot through you, your vision almost blackening out.

Daniel reaches out to turn the vibrator off, then pulls the camera off the tripod and walking over to you. He pulls your legs apart to show the camera the mess you’ve made, then pans it up to see your face. You struggle to keep your eyes open, you’ve got a sheen of sweat over your body, and your hair lays in a mess around your head.

Daniel softly strokes your cheek, smiling when you lean into his touch. “You were so good for me, my good little bunny.”

You flush at his praise, and give the camera a lazy smile.

He shuts the camera off, then gently lifts you to sit up. He leans you against his chest as he reaches behind you to untie your hands. Next he softly pulls the tape and vibrator off your leg.

“I wasn’t too rough, was I sweetheart?” He asks, the smiley soft Daniel back immediately.

You shake your head. “No, that was so much fun.” You turn to get up, wincing at the feeling between your legs.

“Here.” Daniel grabs a towel, wiping off your legs.

He helps you stand up, you lean against him for balance, your legs shaking like a newborn deer.

“I’ve got you.” He says as he helps you get dressed.

You walk back to his car with his arm around your waist, whether it’s to help your balance or just affection after your previous activities you don’t know, but you have to admit to yourself that it does feel nice.

He keeps chatting with you in the car in an attempt to keep you awake and aware. You furrow your brows when he passes your home.

“Daniel, where are we going?”

“I’m going to take you to get some food sweetheart.” He says as if it’s obvious.

He parks his car outside an old looking diner. He rushes over to your side to open the door for you, and again wraps an arm around your waist.

“Get ready for the best meal of your life.”

He guides you inside, greeting a few of the workers as he walks over to a small table in the corner and pulls out a chair for you.

“Hello Daniel, and who is this pretty little thing you brought with you?” An older woman asks as she places menus down for you.

Daniel answers her question before you can. “This is Y/n. Y/n, this is Dorothy.”

“Well it’s nice to meet you Miss Y/n, I hope Daniel is treating you well?” She raises her brows at you.

You laugh and nod. “Yes, he’s been very sweet.”

“I’m glad, you know he’s never actually brought a girl here with him before.” She winks at you.

“Dorothy!” He exclaims, his cheeks now tinted a soft pink.

“Alright, alright, I’ll be back in a few to take your order.” She smiles as she leaves.

You smile over at Daniel. “So you don’t bring all the girls you film with here?”

He can’t hide his smile as he shakes his head. “Only the ones I really like.”

You wince but laugh at his answer.

“No, I’m sorry, that was bad.” He laughs with you.

“It was. But it was cute.” You tell him as you look down at your menu.

Daniel grins looking down at his.

You spend your meal laughing with Daniel, well more with Dorothy telling you stories about the Australian sitting across from you, as Daniel tries to get your focus back on him by reaching over the table to interlock your fingers with his.

He pays for your meal once again, claiming that your money was no good here, then walks you back to his car.

The night has brought a cool breeze with it, creating goosebumps across your bare arms. Daniel feels you shiver beside him, and whips off his hoodie. He pulls it down over you before you can protest.

The drive back to your home is filled with silence once again, but this time it’s a comfortable silence. Daniel’s music plays softly in the background, you can occasionally hear him humming softly.

You feel a sense of calm wash over you, being wrapped up in Daniel’s hoodie. His hand rests against your thigh, his thumb brushing soft circles against it.

So, this is what it feels like to be wanted? It feels nice. You think to yourself as you watch the streetlights pass by.

[imsilay]

MANIA pt.2

obsessive love; very possessive and often jealous.

mdni NSFW! +18, cw: hurt/comfort (well maybe next chapter), size k!nk, forced masturbating? (slightly), possessive behavior, dominant behavior, fem!reader, piv, German praise, belly bulge.

word count: 1k

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summary: König doesn’t wants you to leave him, even for a second. he finds excuses and makes it your problem so he could fuck you until you’re too sore to leave again.

(confession: this is my first time writing smut) :>

art cr: @kinky-thirsty-reader i love your art 🛐

His lips were hungry and his hands are impatient now. He growled when he tore of your panties. He pulled back from the kiss. You chased after him, but he stopped you by placing his hand on your chin. He always liked the sight of your wet cunt. So he had to see it before he continued to hungrily devour your lips.“Scheiße.” he groaned, then he get back to kissing your addicting lips.

His hands found your thighs again and squeezed roughly. Just to force those slutty whines out of you. You put your hands on his broad shoulders for support as his hands teased your thighs moving up enough to feel your dripping cunt but moving down again just to keep you waiting, making the anticipation build within you. König wanted to make you beg for him. And you knew König wouldn’t let you cum until you beg for it. He grabbed one of your hands, which had been placed on his shoulder, and guided it down to your wet core making you whine in protest. “Touch yourself.” he said after breaking his long kiss with a grin. “König please-“ you begin but he squeezed your thighs making you gasp with pain. “Do as i said.” he hissed. You knew he was wanting you to obey him without protest.

So, poor you lifted yourself up a little and started to pleasure yourself. One hand quickly finding your clit as the other stayed on his shoulder to keep yourself up. But even though it give pleasure to you, it wasn’t enough, it wasn’t what you used to. You needed his thick and long fingers. Your fingers found your dripping hole, but your little digits couldn't even react that sweet spot he hits effortlessly. You moan, whine, cry… All of them useless, until you beg. He watched your struggles to satisfy yourself with a cocky grin.

“Armes Mädchen.” (poor girl.) he purred, then placed his hands on your hips and pulled you close, causing your body to jerk forward and press against his. “Your little fingers isn’t enough for your greedy cunt, hmm?” he propped you up and adjusted your position on his lap. He placed you right on his crotch. “Don’t you need something else?” he said suggestively, making you slowly ground against his cock and wet his boxers with your juices. You moaned and pressed your forehead against his. You were so close and just wanted to cum. “Yes i want- need it. Please.” you begged.

He placed a kiss on your lips. “You need what? Come on, Schatz. You gotta say it.” he pressed you down to his hard cock drawing low moans from both of you. You whined and rock your hips with the help of his hands. “need you to fill me.” you breathed, he let out a low groan as he grabbed your hips firmly and pressed you against his cock again. Feeling his big cock underneath your wet core made you moan and squirm with need. “Mein kleiner Hase, you’re so needy… but who am i to not give you what you need?” he whispered to you ear. “Especially when you’re soaking like this f’me.” he added.

With a quick maneuver he pressed your back against the mattress and spread your legs open. “Hold your legs like that f’me, Hase.” he mumbled as he slid his cock out of his boxers. His tip red and already dripping with precum, his form towering over you as his chest move with his hot and ragged breathing. Your pussy flutter at the sight. Imagining his long and thick shaft deep inside you, inch by delicious inch, made your head spin and left you moan desperately. You used all your willpower to not squeeze your thighs together to ease the aching between your legs.

“Braves Mädchen.” Of course he didn’t miss any of your subtle movements. He chuckled lightly like he was reading your mind. He leaned closer and spread your legs furter with his body between them. “Are those pretty moans for me or my cock?” he whispered as he brushed your hair off your neck to kiss and suck it. He took his sweet time to mark your sweet neck as he teased your pussy lips with his tip. He was rubbing his tip on your pussy until it was covered with your slick. All you could do was holding his shoulders and whimper desperately. “You won’t be needing this in my bed.” he grabbed the hem of your shirt and took it off before you could react. To give him easy access to your breasts. He made sure to give close attention to them. His lips found your hard nipples. His lips captured one of them while his fingers pinched and pulled the other. You squirmed as your walls clenched around nothing. “König please… i can’t take it anymore.” you sobbed and cried.

He didn’t stop for a moment. Mercilessly kneading your breasts and sucking your nipples while you whimpered and squirmed. When he decided it was time for filling his kleine Hase and give her the sweet release he pulled back from your breasts reluctantly. “Are you ready, Hase?” you nodded eagerly and looked into his eyes like he was your whole world. With that he lost himself. “Gott, Hase. You have no idea how hot you are.” he said through gritted teeth and finally filled you up. Even he couldn’t understand how a petite woman like you, compared to him, turned him on that much and made him crazy for you. “You take me so good, Hase. Can you feel how much i’m filling your little cunt?” his gaze lingered on the bulge on your belly. He didn’t move at first letting you adjust the fullness. When your back arched slightly and moans got more erratic he knew it was time for him to move. He pressed his palm to the bulge on your belly his cock made. It made your back arch further and him twitch inside you. “Could fuck you for hours, meine kleiner Hase.” he pulled out and slammed back in watching your breasts bounce. “So gut für mich~” he purred when he picked up the pace and fucked you into mattress.

a/n: please support me by reblogging, if you liked the content ofc<3

a/n: also i post everyday -sometimes 2 posts in a day- so if you follow me i won’t disappoint ;)

[formulawolff]

xvi. interwoven - t.w.

pairing: female driver!reader x toto wolff

word count: 3.2k

warnings: smut, heavy smut, absolute filthy fucking on a yacht, penetration (i mean, must i say more?), slight daddy kink, some dominance on toto's end, cursing, oral (m! receiving!), poorly translated german, lots of soft moments, marijuana use, two idiots in love (and i mean down bad for one another), some loving n tender shit afterwards, yadayadayada

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“i love you.”

you blink, registering that he was hovering above you, gazing down at you. in that moment, you swear there are stars glimmering in those mocha depths, enticing you to fall even further. 

no, this wasn’t a dream. 

he was really here.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

“you love me?”

“baby,” the word is shaky as he sucks in a breath, “you have no idea how much i fucking adore you. i need you in my life. i need your light in my life. you’re my sun. my moon. my stars. my everything.”

in the dim light, you catch the glitter of a tear as it streams down his cheek. reaching up, the pad of your thumb brushes it away, “toto, can i tell you something?”

“anything, my love.”

“i love you, torger christian wolff.”

in that moment, the world stood still.

the way his name dripped from your lips was oh so angelic. nothing would ever compare to that sound. no thunderous applause. no shouts of celebration from his crew. no roar of an engine. none of those could ever compare to that rich, smooth sound of your voice. 

and the best part was, it was yours and only yours. 

nothing would even come close to it, as it was one-of-one.

in his short, his cock throbs. 

fuck, just the sound of your voice was enough to send him spiraling, the blood coursing through his veins. 

he needed you. and fuck, did he need you now. 

he needed to prove to you how much he loved you. how he longed to worship every inch of your gorgeous figure. how he yearned to devour every part of you until there was nothing left. nothing but the sound of your heavenly moans ringing through the night, your back arched ever so slightly, begging for more and more until you reached your climax.

yet, he couldn’t give that to you. 

at least, not yet. 

he needed to ensure that he kept you on that precipice, hanging by a thread as he just fucked you senseless. 

“come here,” the words are nearly a growl as his hand palms the back of your skull, fingers coiling into your hair, pulling you in. 

his lips mold with yours, an open-mouthed, starving kiss. it’s fueled by pure lust, greedy and merciless as his tongue slips into your mouth, entwining with yours. he tilts your head back, cushioning it with his hand as he brings you to the rigid surface of the deck. 

there were no inhibitions left as your hips buck forward, brushing against the hardened outline of his cock through the thin fabric of his shorts. his mouth pulls away from yours, a strand of saliva following in suit. there was no time wasted, his lips reconnecting with your jawline, making their way down your neck. 

you squirm beneath him, wriggling your hips in attempts to soothe the throbbing sensation between your thighs. 

“not yet,” he pants, “you can’t have me yet, schatzi. you have to be a good girl and wait.”

“toto,” you exhale, “someone could see us.”

“and?” a hand delves underneath your crewneck, squeezing your breast, “i don’t give a fuck. if they happen to see us, then they can watch me make you cum over and over. the world deserves to know how good i make you feel.”

“can’t you get arrested for that sort of–”

“shut up,” a hand covers your mouth, swiftly cutting you off, “just let me make you feel good, schatzi. let me prove to you how good you deserve to feel.”

he rolls your nipple between nimble fingers, a moan escaping from your lips. 

“good girl. be as loud as you want. let everyone know how fucking good this feels.”

all around, the air is electric, buzzing with tension as he motions for you to sit up. carefully, his fingers hook the hem of your crewneck, tossing it to the side. the moment the mediterranean breeze hits your skin, your nipples harden, goosebumps littering your skin. his lips curl into a dazed grin, as if he was under some sort of trance. 

yet, he was under your spell, completely and utterly allured by your beauty.

“you’re stunning,” he shakes his head, bewildered by the sight of you under him, “i can’t keep it together when i’m around you.”

“well you’re really good at hiding it.”

“i have to be,” he leans in once again, “one of us has to keep it together. you’re a mess when you’re around me, you know that? you’re not very good at maintaining your composure either.”

heat flourishes into your cheeks, your hands instinctively shielding your face, “i-i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“you can’t hide from the man you love,” he coos, the warmth of his hands a relief from the cooler air as they glide along your torso, “it’s cute, really. i think it’s adorable that you melt into a little puddle whenever we’re together.”

“i can’t help it,” you protest, the words a whine.

“like i told you schatzi,” his hands are tugging at the waistband of your sweatpants, “you’re absolutely adorable. is this okay? can i finish undressing you and have my way with you?”

oh fuck. oh fuck. oh fuck. 

that question alone was enough to send the air around you spiking, the temperature elevated by a few degrees. fuck, did he leave you hot and bothered. a flustered, blubbering mess beneath him. 

“yes,” you nod, a little too enthusiastically, “please. have your way with me, toto wolff.”

although his composure was gone merely minutes ago, any last shred of sensibility was now completely lost, torn to shreds. 

he was going to fuck you. 

and he was going to fuck you right here, right now. 

where anyone and everyone could watch. 

quickly, he discards his own clothing, throwing it in the haphazard pile forming only a few feet away. he needed to feel your skin against his. more importantly, he needed to feel your walls squeeze around him, taking in every single inch. 

however, he was curious. 

how did that pretty little mouth feel?

“baby,” his pupils are dilated, glazed over from not only the weed, but from lust, “can you–”

he could barely finish before your lips were wrapped around his length, tongue swirling around the tip. 

oh jesus. 

oh fuck.

“fuck,” his jaw clenches as take in more of him, spit dribbling from your mouth as your eyes close, lashes fluttering. 

you were so fucking pretty like this, your head beginning to bob as your cheeks pucker, filthy noises filling the night air. 

a hand grips the crown of your skull, applying pressure. at first, he’s unsure of the action, unaware if this was something you enjoyed. 

after all, this wasn’t just about him. 

this was about you too. 

you deserved to enjoy this. to feel good. 

to catch a glimpse of heaven. 

yet, the groan that vibrates in the back of your throat lets him know that you were satisfied, the pace quickening. toto’s head almost rolls back, the muscles in his arm spasming as he props himself up, ensuring to memorize every detail of this moment. 

“take it baby,” he praises, the notes in his tone thready with need, “keep taking it like the good girl i know you are. you’re doing such a good fucking job.”

at the praise, you feel a pulse between your thighs, your hand wrapping around the base, starting a twisting motion as you continue sucking. 

he almost came right then and there, at the sight of you between his thighs, sucking him off like your life depended on it, fulfilling every aspect of his lewd and sinful fantasies. pressure was beginning to accumulate in his abdomen, the pleasure washing over like a tidal wave. 

he was going to cum.

and fuck, was he going to absolutely fill that little mouth of yours up. 

“y-you’re going to make me cum,” the words barely escape through his gritted teeth, “fuck baby.”

the tip of this throat reaches the base of your throat, the entire length of his cock in your mouth. your cheeks are hollow, and you manage to look up, batting your lashes ever so slightly. 

fuck, fuck, fuck. 

that sent him over the edge, threads of cum coating your throat as he released, the moans shaky, his voice brimmed with pure euphoria. 

“fuck baby, fuck,” he breathes, his chest heaving, “holy shit. holy fuck. holy fucking shit.”

two hands cup your cheeks, bringing you up. his mouth finds yours, his lips oh so plush and soft. the kisses are tender, arms wrapping around your frame. 

“come here.”

you nuzzle into his collarbone, catching your breath, “did i do good?”

“good?” he echoes, “baby, that was – wow. holy shit.”

“flabbergasted?” you stifle a giggle. 

“absolutely,” his chest vibrates against your face, “but i’m not finished with you.”

“oh?” you press, “is that so?”

his body shifts, pinning you down to the deck once again, “you deserve to cum too.”

“then make me cum.”

toto cocks his head, “is that how we’re feeling? has the weed helped us find our voice?”

from his taunt, you feel heat billow into your cheeks, “maybe.”

he hums, a hand spreading your thighs apart, “hmm, i like it. but you have to remember one thing.”

“and that is?”

“you’re not the one in control,” he slams into you without warning, your weeping cunt stretching at the sheer size, “i am. i’m the one in control.”

you mewl as his hips roll, absolutely pounding into you now, “holy fuck, toto–”

“say it baby,” fingers grasp your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze, “say that i’m in control. that i own your pussy. be a good girl and tell daddy how i own this pussy of yours.” 

“y-you own this p-pussy,” you can barely form the words, let alone any coherent thought as waves of euphoria ripple throughout your being, “you own this pussy, toto wolff. it’s yours. it’s yours forever.”

“forever?” for just a second, he’s thrown off his game. 

“forever,” you affirm, nodding fervently, “i’m yours forever, toto wolff. i love you, and i’m not going anywhere.”

“oh baby,” he melts, collapsing against you, “fuck, i love you. i love you. i love you. you’re so fucking perfect. i’m yours forever. if you’ll have me.”

“of course i will,” your forehead presses against his, lips centimeters apart, “i want you forever.”

“you’re one of the best things that’s ever happened to me,” he murmurs, nothing but sincerity lacing his tone, “i mean that.”

“will you really make me a world champion?” the words tumble out, and shame burns throughout, completely taking a hold.

“i will,” toto nods. his hand finds your yours, intertwining your pinkies together, “i pinky promise i will. if it’s not next year, it will be the one after that. i will do everything in my power to help you succeed. like the little star you are, you deserve to shine so fucking brightly. i will make you a world champion, my love.”

there was nothing more that toto wolff wanted in this world.

and that was for this moment to last forever. 

“i love you, toto,” you whisper, “can we just say fuck it and get married?”

“don’t tempt me,” his cock twitches, reminding him that the two of you were still interwoven, “i would marry you in a heartbeat, my love. but there are some things we need to do first.”

“and that is?” your lower lip juts out, forming a pout.

there it was, that damn pout. 

the pout that got him every single fucking time. 

and if you happened to bat your lashes?

oh, toto wolff would be a dead man.

“well for one,” his hips thrust into you, picking up the pace, “i have to help you win a world championship. and two, i need to make you cum.”

“and after that?”

“we’ll figure that out when we get there,” his lips meet with yours, “i promise.”

your back arches, your walls tightening as he begins to fuck you senseless, hips slapping against yours. if it weren’t for the blanket he brought, you were sure there would be bruises by the afternoon. his brows furrow, knit together in concentration as one hand grips your pelvis, holding you in place while the other drifts downward, making its way between your thighs. 

“toto,” you whimper, “please.”

“i’ll make you cum princess, i promise.”

licking the pad of his thumb, it connects with your clit, going in slow, circular motions. your body tenses, your walls squeezing so tightly around him, coaxing him in even further. his tip rams into your g-spot, sending waves of pleasure coursing through. 

“that’s it,” he murmurs, guiding you to that edge, “cum for me baby. be a good girl and cum for me.”

“i-i,” you stammer, eyes tightening shut, “i’m going to cum!”

crying out, your muscles spasm as euphoria grips you, inner thighs trembling as he remains inside, in complete awe of the sight of you coming undone. 

“good girl,” light kisses pepper all over your face, “you’re such a good girl, you know that?”

you try to speak, but the words can’t come out. his arms envelop your frame, bringing you in close as he lies beside you, “cat got your tongue?”

“maybe,” you fight a yawn, drowsiness beginning to settle in, “we need to do this more often.”

“i’m not so sure about the smoking part,” he chuckles, “but the other part? yes. we should do that all of the time, actually.”

“we should probably put on clothes on, huh?” you exhale, snuggling in closer as a breeze rolls through, “i wonder if anyone saw us.”

“more than likely,” he shrugs, “if they did, oh well.”

“could you imagine? minding your own business, probably cracking open a beer to watching the sunrise. and next thing you know, you see two people fucking on the sun deck of their yacht.”

“their yacht?” he teases, tilting your head towards him, “who said it was yours?”

you wriggle, squirming slightly as the embarrassment settles in, panicking just a little, “i-i – you know what i meant.”

“did i?” he prompts, arching a brow, “would you like to watch the sunrise? i think it’s due anytime now.”

“did we stay up all night?” although your body is wracked with exhaustion, you can’t help but fight it, keeping those lids open. 

“we did,” he responds, rising to his feet. he winces, wrinkling his nose, “fuck, i’m a little sore.”

“could we maybe light another one of those joints?”

“were you a little stoner back in the day?” rather than tossing your clothes at you, he crosses over, placing them in your hands. 

“not really,” you shrug, slipping your crewneck over your head, “i smoked every now and then. i couldn’t really, because of how strict arizona laws used to be. now, it’s legal there. i tend to hit the dispensary whenever i’m home, just for the fun of it.”

“i’ve noticed you don’t really drink either,” he slides his leg through his shorts, “well, except after your win in miami.”

a shudder courses through you at the mention of that night in miami, your stomach churning, “i would rather forget about that night.”

“oh yeah?” an airy chuckle floats through the dawn, “do you remember anything about that night?”

the truth was, you did not recall a single moment of that night. from what you could remember, it was fuzzy, with no clear distinction of time or place. 

however, there was one aspect you could remember clearly.

toto carrying you to your bed, laying you down oh so carefully. helping you take off your makeup, wiping your face tenderly with cotton pads and your trusty micellar water. tugging at your clothes, cursing under his breath because you weren’t cooperating. speaking to you oh so sweetly in german, brushing those unkempt strands of hair behind your ear. staying at your place when he knew he didn’t have to, simply because he wanted to ensure that you were feeling okay in the morning.

god, you really were so lucky.

the luckiest girl on earth. 

after dealing with boys all of your life, you were finally blessed with a man. a real man, who made it clear to you that you were the one thing he prioritized the most. a man who held your delicate heart in his strong hands, guarding it oh so fiercely these last few months. a man who loved you unconditionally, no matter your state or the turmoil thrown your way. 

and you didn’t even have to second guess that. gone were the days of overthinking, begging for even an ounce of reassurance. fuck, you didn’t even have to ask him if he loved you. 

just by the way he looked at you, you knew. 

“baby,” a voice, his voice snaps you out of your trance, “geht es dir gut?” 

blinking, you realize that tears were streaming down your cheeks, absolutely soaking them. you sniffle, pulling down your sleeves to wipe them away. yet, his hand darts out, his thumb stroking along your skin. 

“mir geht es gut,” your voice trembles, “i’m okay.” 

“are you sure?” his mouth presses against your temple, an arm wrapping around your shoulder, “i was worried for a second. i thought i hurt you or something.”

“no,” you shake your head, “it’s nothing you did.”

“do you want to talk about it? i have the other joint. we can light it, and watch the sunrise. and if you want, we can talk about it.”

there’s that lump in your throat again, “o-okay.”

“baby,” his hand drifts towards your back, kneading as you bury your head in his shoulder, sobs beginning to erupt from your lips, “was ist los mit dir? you can tell me.”

“i-i just love you so much. you take such good care of me and i just–”

“oh baby,” he can’t help but laugh, placing delicate kisses along the crown of your head, “i love you, more than you could probably imagine. i’m not sure when or how it happened, but i promise you that i do. you will never have to doubt or fret over that.”

“i don’t want to leave you,” your hands cling on to the fabric of his shirt, “i hate leaving you.”

“you don’t have to,” his voice is merely a whisper, “you don’t have to leave yet, schatzi. you can stay here for a few more days, then we’ll have to fly to canada.”

“can we fly in together?”

“you want to fly with me?” his heart swells at your request, lips curving into a broad grin, “i can make that happen, my love.”

“will you, please?”

“of course,” when it came to you, he was going to make damn sure all of your needs and wants were fulfilled, no matter the cost, “i’ll make it happen. i promise. now, let’s light this, and watch the beautiful sunrise. from the looks of it, it’s going to be absolutely breathtaking.”

as toto reached for the lighter, the sun peaking through the mountains, there was only one thing on his mind, nearly consuming him whole.

you wanted him, forever. 

and by god, he was more than determined to make that wish of yours come true. 

no matter what it took. 

now, the two of you were interwoven, your souls bound together by the promise of forever. 

he didn’t have that on paper.

your pinky interlocked with his was enough.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

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[sweethischier]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫

word count: 12k words

summary: One night changes your relationship with Nico, and just when you think it was exactly what you wished for, you go back home feeling even more confused than you ever had before.

warnings: poorly translated german, cursing, drinking, kissing in a storage closet, angst (of course), Minors DNI 18+ themes below the cut; smut, unprotected sex, also nico is a major major idiot at the end

note: thank you everyone for your patience. i know it's taken me forever to get this out but it's here! this is slightly unedited (i tried) so please excuse any mistakes ahaha

series masterlist | prev part

When you woke up the next morning, memories of what had occurred merely a few hours ago instantly flooded your mind nearly making you dizzy. The feeling of his fingertips pressed into your hips, of his lips on yours, on your neck, singed your skin like it was happening all over again. You were entirely expecting to wake up to find out that it was really a dream, but not even you could make up the feeling of electricity that shocked your body when he kissed you. There was no imagining that.

Charlie had her leg thrown over your own, making slipping out undetected a challenge, but you deemed yourself successful when your feet were planted on the ground and all she did was tightly wrap herself up in the blanket. You carefully tiptoed out of the guest room, making sure to stay quiet in case the others were still sleeping, as you went in the correct direction to the bathroom. However, when you’re outside the door, Luca walks out and nearly sends you toppling onto the floor when you collide with him.

He quickly grabs onto your elbows, keeping your body upright as a quiet chuckle passes through his lips. Your body heats up in embarrassment, your eyes staying trained on his chest as you step away from him once you’re steady on your feet. You awkwardly shuffle on your feet, waiting for Luca to move away from the door so you can step inside to brush your teeth, but you can feel his eyes linger on you for a moment longer than you thought necessary.

“All yours,” Luca finally says, an amused hint to his voice, before he walks around you, “Nice hickey, by the way.”

Your head snaps towards him, eyes wide and mortified as he disappears back into his room without another word or another glance in your direction. You quickly rush into the bathroom, flipping the light switch on and leaning towards the mirror as your eyes explore the expanse of your neck. Sure enough, there was a decent-sized bruise slapped on the skin just above your collarbone. You covered it with your hand, panic filling your veins as you tried to figure out just exactly how you were going to hide that from his entire family.

The three of you hadn’t initially planned on staying overnight, and the only clothing you had brought with you was the dress you had shown up in. Your entire clavicle was exposed in said dress, and Charlie’s shirt was just as, if not more, revealing, so switching with her would be useless. The idea of someone else seeing the mark on your neck made you want to vomit in sheer humiliation, so you quickly brushed your teeth and filtered out of the bathroom before anyone else could see you.

Instead of walking back to the guest room, you stand outside the door of the person responsible and quickly rap your knuckles against the wood. You can hear his faint voice, and you hope that he said come in because that’s exactly what you did. You rushed into his room, closing the door behind you as you stood in the doorway, your shoulders heaving as you tried to calm your uneven breathing. Nico’s gaze lands on you, eyebrows furrowing in confusion when he takes in your disheveled appearance, but then he sees it. 

He can’t help but let out a laugh as you walk towards him, your voice worried and strained as you speak, “It isn’t funny, Nico! I can’t go out in front of your family like this.”

He can see the genuine panic in your eyes, and a part of him feels bad for accidentally bruising your neck. He knows his family is likely to see it, but he also knows they wouldn’t say anything to make you uncomfortable. They wouldn’t think any differently of you either, and he knows that’s going through your mind. He can see the distress written in the way your brows are furrowed and the way your shoulders are nearly to your ears, and he knows he needs to find a solution to ease your blooming anxiety.

“I know, I’m sorry,” He says, his voice soft and careful as his fingers twitch towards you, “You can borrow one of my shirts and ask Charlie if you can borrow the pants she brought. She can wear your dress.”

“Yeah, because that won’t be suspicious,” You groaned, letting your head fall backward in frustration as your hands ball into fists at your side.

“It won’t be,” He chuckles as he steps towards you, his eyes soft as he hesitantly takes your hands in his own. He carefully separates your fingers from your palm, his thumb delicately rubbing the skin as he continues,  “Just tell them you didn’t want to wear the dress back because it was uncomfortable. Problem solved.”

The air around the two of you was thick with a mixture of emotions that slightly overwhelmed you. You knew what happened last night was going to shift things with Nico, but now that the adrenaline rush from then had come and gone, you were back to being nervous around him. His touch made the hair on the back of your neck stand up, your eyes wide and impressionable as your mind drifted towards the same insecurities from only hours ago.

“Okay,” You eventually breathe out, forcing yourself to step away and pull your arms back to your body before your doubts become too overbearing, “If you think it’ll work.”

His face twisted in confliction as he watched you retreat into yourself the same way you had done last night. He could tell that you were slightly pulling away from him in fear. Of what? Nico wasn’t entirely sure, but he knew he needed to find out before you managed to convince yourself that whatever you were thinking was rooted in truth. However, he knew that, unfortunately, now wasn’t the best time for that and he was going to have to wait until the two of you were alone again. 

You went back to the guest room shortly after, Nico’s old hockey shirt in hand, to see Charlie now wide awake and sitting on the edge of the bed. Her eyes instantly darted towards the fabric between your fingers before landing on your neck. She harshly slapped the spot next to her with a slight smirk on her face even though she had already put the pieces together. After you had recounted the events from last night, and she relentlessly teased you for the mark near your neck, you slipped her jeans and Nico’s t-shirt on before going downstairs for breakfast.

Only his parents and sister were in the kitchen, and they all three gently pushed you away when you asked if you could do anything to help. Nina only gave your new outfit a passing glance before she went back to finish helping her parents prepare breakfast, leaving you to sit in the living room as you waited. Luca was the second one to come down, the two of you sharing brief eye contact before you bashfully snapped your gaze away from him.

“Nice shirt,” He teases, his voice thick with amusement as he sits in the chair.

“Aufhören, Luca,” You heard Nico call out from behind you, his tone holding a slight sense of warning towards his older brother as he reached the bottom of the stairs. (Stop)

You glanced towards him to see a reassuring smile on his face as he fell into the spot next to you, the cushion dipping with his weight. He could still see a slight sense of apprehension on your face, but he wanted you to know he meant everything he had said last night without saying it so openly in front of his family. Although, if he knew that would have been something you would want, he would do it, but he knew you better than that. Having that much attention on you was only going to cause more harm than good.

For now, he was going to do his best to drop the most subtle, yet not subtle at all, hints he can. He throws his arm over the cushion behind you before shifting in his spot, his thigh pressing against your own with only the most minimal amount of space between your sides. A wave of nerves wash over you as you divert your eyes to your hands that were clasped in your lap, your heart thudding in your chest as the two of them continue.

“I’m only joking,”  He brushes off, slightly shaking his head, “Maybe now I won’t have to listen to you complain about ho–”

“Okay,” Nico’s voice smothering Luca’s as his face flushed and he nervously cleared his throat, steering the conversation to a different topic, “Why don’t you go help in the kitchen?”

“Tried earlier,” He chuckles, “Mom said I’m still forbidden from cooking after last time.”

It wasn’t long after that Finn and Charlie joined the three of you in the main room, the conversation flowing naturally without any mention of the random change in clothing. Although, they both took notice to the closeness of you and Nico and passed you teasing, knowing smiles that you paid no mind to as you focused on the others. Eventually, Katja called for her sons to set the table once they were finishing up with the food, but all five of you stood to help with the small task.

Breakfast went by quickly, almost too quickly, and you already began to miss his family. While it had only been less than a day in their presence, they were nothing short of welcoming, kind, and caring. They were everything you already knew Nico to be, everything you had always admired about him, and you wished there were more people like them in the world. They never once made you feel like an outsider or like you didn’t belong, only ever treating you like you were family despite having just met. Though, if you were to ask, they would tell you it felt like they had known you for years with how often Nico spoke about you.

When it was time for the three of you to head back to the train station, his mom hugged you tightly and mumbled something you didn’t quite understand in your ear. Judging by the way Nico’s face got redder and Nina had to stifle her own laugh, you could form an idea as to what was said. You chose not to focus on it too much, moving to bid goodbye to the rest of the Hischier family, Finn included, minus Luca who was driving you back to the station.

“You will have to come back soon,” Katja called out as the four of you gathered by the door, a gentle smile on her face, “You will always have a room here.”

“Nächstes mal braucht sie ihre eigene nicht,” Finn teased as he playfully raises his eyebrows at both you and Nico. (Next time she won’t need her own.)

Your eyes flicked towards Nico, your eyebrows knitting together in confusion because you didn’t recognize any of the words he had said. He let out a soft chuckle and shook his head, mumbling something along the lines of ‘not important’ before he ushered you and Charlie out of the house. Luca follows suit, a mixture of voices calling out final goodbyes right up until the door is shut behind you.

The entire ride back to the train station was full of all four of you discussing plans for your last day in Switzerland. Luca had suggested that the four of you, Nina, and Finn plus a few others go out to a club in Bern, but Nico was quick to suggest that you do that the night before because you had a nine-hour flight the next day and doing that trip hungover wasn’t the best idea. By the time everyone was in agreement, though it didn’t take much effort to get there, Luca was pulling into the parking lot. 

Your goodbye with him, while still meaningful, was more playful and mischievous in a way that made you realize you missed Jack more than you had initially thought. Nico had already bought your tickets online, rebuffing any idea of you paying him back for them as he led you through the crowd of people. You heard Charlie’s quiet whisper of an idea for repayment, but you paid her no mind and did your best to keep the blush from crawling onto your cheeks as you walked slightly behind Nico.

On the train, it was you who had made the decision to sit across from Charlie rather than beside her, which did not go unnoticed by either her nor Nico. He couldn’t stop the small smile from forming on his face as he gracefully took the seat next to you, both of you ignoring the teasing gaze of the girl across from you. You were so focused on staring out the window, trying to conceal your flushed cheeks, that you missed the way Nico’s eyes lingered on you far longer than what would be considered normal, but Charlie didn’t. She never did.

By the time the three of you were finally back at Nico’s apartment, he had to leave almost as soon as you walked through the door. He had nearly forgotten about the training session he was scheduled to attend until he received a text from one of the guys he was going with. Before he left, he had mentioned something about going out for dinner this evening if you and Charlie were okay with that, but otherwise, he had nothing else in mind.

You and Charlie had decided to stay at the apartment and lounge around for the day since you hadn’t really taken any time to relax during the entire duration of your trip. You sat on the couch, flipping through Nico’s Netflix account before deciding on some random romantic comedy you had both seen a dozen times. Though neither of you made it through half of the movie before you were sound asleep.

The sound of someone down the hall from the apartment slamming their door startled you awake, your body jolting upwards as you tried to rid yourself of the fog clouding your head. There was now a random movie playing on the screen and Charlie was still sprawled on the other end with her mouth slightly dropped open and soft snores passing through her lips. You carefully reached for the remote that was tucked underneath her side to turn the TV off before you picked up your phone to check the time.

You had two missed texts from Nico letting you know that his session was running a bit longer than usual, but he would be back before six in the evening and that he had made the reservation for seven. You also had a string of texts from Jack who was updating you on the antics you were missing at the lake house, telling you that everyone missed you, and how he was waiting for you to get there so he could finally win at beer pong. A small, amused smile formed on your face as you shook your head, texting him and asking if he would be busy in an hour so you could Facetime and tell him about how the trip was going.

His response was almost instant, and you couldn’t stop the guilt from creeping on you as Charlie’s words from the night before echoed in your mind. You hadn’t meant to make Jack feel like you were mad at him, but you truly didn’t think he would think much of the way you had slightly backed off. You knew how he felt about Charlie, and her about him, and you assumed that he would want to primarily talk to her and not hear repeats of the same adventures. A small part of you was also worried that maybe he wouldn’t be interested in talking to you at all anymore.

While Jack had always made it known with all of his girlfriends in the past that you were a permanent fixture in his life, the underlying feeling that you would be tossed to the side was always there. Of course, you knew Charlie would never be that kind of girl, especially given the fact that she valued her friendship with you over anything, the feeling still lingered. You never voiced it out loud because you knew it sounded stupid, and that is exactly what both of them would say to you if you did.

The decision to shower came easy once you glanced at the time and also realized you hadn’t showered since before you had left yesterday. You made a point to take your time and focus on getting everything done just in case there was a potential repeat of what happened last night. By the time you finished, the entire bathroom was full of steam and the walls were damp with condensation from how hot the water was.

Slipping out of the bathroom and into your temporary room, you made quick work to change into more comfortable clothes before blow-drying your hair. Once you were finished, you went back into the living room to wake Charlie up so she had plenty of time to shower and get ready before you left. She tried to brush you off, mumbling incoherent words as she buried her face in the cushions, but you didn’t let her. You knew she would sleep the rest of the day if she could.

After some gentle coaxing, you managed to get her off the couch and into the bathroom with her leaving a passing comment about how foggy the mirror still was. You retreated back into the room down the hall, making a spot in front of the mirror to finish styling your hair before you texted Jack and asked if now was a good time to Facetime, and not even ten seconds later your phone was ringing.

“You’re alive,” Jack cheerfully greets, a blinding grin on his face as he shuts the door to what you assume is his room, “Swiss life treating you well?”

You could hear the faint sound of the front door shutting followed by a quiet voice and footsteps down the hallway. The click of Nico’s door closing reaches your ears as you turn all your focus back on Jack, who is now lying on his bed with a smug look on his face. You ignore his look as you try to balance your phone on the makeshift stand you put together so you can talk while you get ready.

“Hey,” Jack suddenly yells, making your eyes widen in confusion as your arms retreat back to your sides, “That’s a hickey! Whose dirty mouth did you have on your neck?”

Your entire body stilled, embarrassment crawling against every inch of your skin as you stared at Jack, your jaw slack like you had been caught doing something unimaginable. His outward appearance was that of someone who was pretending to be disturbed with his narrowed eyes and scrunched nose, but his eyes were swimming with amusement as he awaited whatever excuse you managed to come up with.

“What are you talking about,” You chose to feign confusion, looking away from him as you looked into the mirror and tried to angle your body away from him, “I think it’s just a shadow.”

“No, I know what hickeys look like,” He draws your name out, sitting up as he brings his phone closer to his face, “I’ve given my fair share, and that, my friend, is a hickey. Who’s the lucky guy? You and Nico finally stop pretending like you don’t want to jump each other's bones and just get it on?”

Jack was mostly joking when he said that, mostly because he didn’t think either of you was going to be brave enough to make a move, especially not when Charlie was there. However, when you nearly choked on nothing but the air passing through your lips and he watched your face turn an entirely different shade, he knew what he said had some truth to it. 

“Oh, you so did,” His voice was strained as he spoke through his laughter, “You two boned!”

“No,” You rushed out, aggressively shaking your head as you scrambled to turn the volume down in case Nico could hear it, “We didn’t bone, Jack.”

“Not yet,” He sang, an even bigger grin on his face, “I’d put money on you two hooking up before you come back.”

“Oh my god! You’re so annoying,” You groaned, throwing your head back in slight humiliation, “You couldn’t have just pretended not to notice?”

He says nothing, instead meeting your gaze as he quirks his brow before both of you double over in laughter. Expecting Jack to not say something about something as obvious as a hickey was like expecting them to let Luke drive the boat; it was simply impossible. Once the two of you were able to catch your breath, to finally have a normal conversation, it felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. A weight that only a conversation with your closest friend could make disappear.

The next few days were full of adventure and excitement as Nico, along with Luca who was now back in Bern, took you and Charlie on hikes or to various different places around the city. While some hikes were more difficult than others, they allowed you to see some of the most beautiful creations of nature that you would never get back home. The busy schedule also allowed you to nearly forget the lurking insecurities that would gnaw at your heart anytime you were alone with Nico for even a second, but the way he kept subtly trying to bring it up didn’t.

When the evening before your last day in Switzerland came, Nico left his apartment to you, Charlie, and his sister to get ready while he and Finn left for his brothers. Music softly played in the background as the three of you told stories that incited laughter and comments that would make anyone who heard them blush. Nina gave helpful tips as to what one would typically wear to the kind of club you were going to, going as far as to bring extra clothes in case you didn’t feel like anything you had packed was suitable enough. 

Nina was helping fix your hair when she quietly says, “I was surprised there are no more hickeys to cover.”

Charlie’s laughter immediately fills the room as you let out a surprised gasp, looking up to glare at her in the mirror. Nina doesn’t meet your gaze, putting her focus on finishing what she was doing, but she has a coy smile on her face as she continues her work. Charlie, though, manages to catch your eye as walks towards the two of you, her laughter dying down.

“That’s because they haven’t been alone for longer than two minutes,” Charlie playfully teases, “Not for lack of trying on my part.”

“Oh, I’m sure that will change once he sees you tonight,” She snickers, “You look like, what you guys would call, a smokeshow.”

Nico and Luca arrived back at the apartment just as the three of you were finishing up, their loud voices echoing down the hall. You couldn’t help but let your eyes drift towards the mirror, dragging your gaze from the top of your head all the way down to your toes. Doubts and scrutinizing thoughts slowly crept their way in, your hands anxiously running across the thin fabric of your shirt as you began contemplating changing into something that you were more used to. Something that wasn’t so form-fitting. 

“Hey,” Charlie peaks her head back in the room, quickly taking notice of a look she had seen on your face far too often, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” You give her a tight-lipped smile before dropping your gaze to the floor.

You hear her footsteps approaching you, her arms wrapping around your shoulders as she says, “You look absolutely beautiful, okay? I mean that. You’re going to be the hottest girl in that club no matter what, but if you want to change, we can wait. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable the whole time.”

You meet her stare in the mirror, a soft, sincere smile on her face as she gently squeezes you in reassurance. You bring your hand up to grasp her forearm, tears lining your eyes as you let out a deep breath and rub your thumb against her skin. Small moments like these were times you appreciated Charlie more than anything. She was always your personal hypeman, but she was also always quick to remind you that you had a choice rather than talking you into doing something you didn't necessarily want to do.

“I’ll be okay,” You murmur, clearing your throat when your voice threatens to break.

“Are you absolutely sure,” She presses, subtly gesturing to your glassy eyes.

“I promise,” You nod, “I just appreciate you and it makes me emotional, okay? Give a girl a break!”

You and Charlie stay in the room a few minutes longer, allowing you to recollect yourself before going out in front of the others. With your shoes in hand, you follow her out and finally make your way into the main room to see the four of them seated at the table. Luca and Finn were the first ones to see you, Nico and Nina sitting with their backs facing you, and a small smirk was quick to form on their faces before looking towards the younger Swiss in front of them.

When Nico turned around, it felt like everything else, everyone else, had stilled and it was only the two of you in the room. Only you with your flushed cheeks and downcast eyes, and him with his slack jaw and captivated gaze. Your heart rams into your ribs as he drinks in every dip and curve of your body, almost like he was trying to commit the moment to memory, as you walked in front of him. He visibly swallows as you take the chair next to him and you give him a shy, passing smile; one he hastily returns with an unwavering, unblinking look.

“Does he do that when you guys go out at home,” Luca whispers, slightly leaning towards Charlie as she sits next to him.

“Every time,” Charlie hums, chuckling to herself, “He thinks no one notices, but everyone does. He is not very good at hiding it, but neither is she. They’ve just both been so oblivious it’s actually painful.”

“You look amazing,” Nico says, blissfully unaware of the teasing going on across from him.

“Thank you,” You bashfully mumble, turning your gaze to look at the wooden table in front of you. 

Luca mentioned that he had called a taxi a few moments prior, saying that they would call him when they had arrived, so the six of you spent the time waiting simply talking about whatever came to mind. The minutes were full of teasing and laughter so loud that the call from the taxi nearly went missed if it hadn’t been for Nina’s careful ears picking up on the sound. 

The taxi service had sent a van in order to accommodate the six of you, with you squishing in between Nico and Charlie in the back row, Nina and Finn in the two middle seats, and Luca riding as the passenger to the older driver. Charlie was taking as much space as she possibly could, forcing you into Nico’s side so harshly that he had to throw his arm around your shoulders to remain comfortable, which you knew to be her goal, anyway.

“Will there be a lot of people you know,” You ask, lightly gasping as Nico’s fingertips brushed against the exposed skin along your collarbone. Just above where he had left his mark a few days prior.

“A few,” He hums to himself as he thinks, slightly adjusting himself so you’re better slotted under his arm, “Timo, Jonas, and Nola will be there, so you’ll see a few familiar faces.”

“Yeah, Timo texted me earlier and told me he’d be there,” You lightly laughed, wringing your hands together as a way to help ease some of the nerves flowing through you.

You were so focused on staring out of the windshield that you missed the way Nico’s jaw slightly hardened at the mention of his friend and teammate texting you. While he knew that neither you nor Timo had any sort of romantic feelings for another, he couldn't help but let a slight sense of envy creep its way up his throat, rendering him mute as he set his narrowed eyes on the headrest in front of him.

When you arrived at the club, you still felt a little on edge as you stepped out of the van, especially given Nico’s random bout of silence, but you did your best to swallow the anxiety bubbling in your throat. The outside of the club looked just like any other you had visited before, and that helped slightly relax you as you gathered in the back of the queue to get inside. There were a few people in the line who gave Nico passing glances, which he returned with a kind smile if he noticed, but it was the girls who stared at him a little longer than you thought necessary that made a scowl form on your face.

The second you were inside, the music was pumping so loudly that you could feel it in your bones. People were pressed together as they danced, worryless and carefree looks on all of their faces as they enjoyed the moment. You could feel the subtle stickiness on the floor as you followed the others through the crowd, Charlie’s hand grasping your own as a precaution, but it was nothing compared to the tacky club tile back home. However, the section on a slightly raised platform with a couch and several chairs was not something you were used to.

“Do you want a drink,” Nico asked after he had introduced the two of you to everyone. He was leaning into you, his mouth near your ear as he talked over the music, his hand protectively placed on your lower back.

A wave of deja vu washed over you, the memory of Nico asking you almost the same exact question a few days prior quickly replaying in your mind. You shake your head, pushing the thoughts far away, as you look up at him, meeting his warm stare as you say, “I think I’m okay right now, but thank you.”

“I’ll be right back then,” He nods, his hand flexing against you as his gaze slightly shifts behind you, “Charlie, you want the usual?”

“Sure! Thank you,” She shouts.

Just as you were about to say something to her, you heard the sound of your name being called behind you. With wide, curious eyes you turn around to see Nola approaching with a bright smile on her face, her boyfriend trailing behind her. She instantly pulls you into a hug as soon as you’re within reach, comments about how good you looked spilling from her lips before she thought about letting you go. As she turned to Charlie, Jonas embraced you in a polite side hug before you fell into conversation about your trip so far.

“Are you going home when you leave,” Nola asks as Jonas wraps his arm around her.

“We’re going to Michigan actually,” You revealed, “I haven’t gone to the lake house this summer yet because I’ve been trying to prepare for the internship next semester, and Jack said if I didn’t go the second we get back, he was going to cut me off.”

“Of course he did,” She throws her head back in laughter, “Ever so dramatic, he is.”

“Are we talking about Jack,” Nico’s voice interrupts, diverting your gaze to him as he walks towards you with a drink in one hand, and two in the other, “I know you said you didn’t want a drink yet, but I got one for you anyways since the wait was long.”

“Oh, thank you,” You take the drink from him, warmth spreading from your cheeks down to your neck as you force yourself to look away from him. Though, you were instantly met with the same teasing look you had endured by everyone else you had seen slapped on the faces of the couple in front of you.

It wasn’t long until Charlie dragged you into the middle of the dance floor as soon as she heard the beginning of her favorite song blaring through the speakers. Bodies were crammed against yours as you moved your hips to the beat of the music, your arms thrown over her shoulders as she moved her own. The alcohol in your system allows you to have confidence you otherwise wouldn’t have, encouraging your salacious movements that Nico couldn’t look away from.

The lights above were illuminating you in a way that made you look otherworldly as you tilted your head backward, your hair cascading down your back in waves. You let your eyes wander amongst the sea of people around you, but you nearly freeze in your spot when you catch Nico’s stare. He doesn’t falter when he realizes you’re looking back at him, only bringing his drink up to his lips before you swiftly avert your gaze.

The two of you stay out there for nearly half of the second song, but filter off when Charlie yells something about getting another drink. Nico wasn't exaggerating when he said the wait was long, but neither of you minded as you familiarized yourself with the strangers next to you. They were also visiting from America, one of them making an amused comment about how Americans always managed to find one another, and they had asked if you had any recommendations for them while they were there.

With a new drink in hand, you bid your new friends goodbye before turning to rejoin the group you arrived with. Charlie sees him before you do, her eyes squinting as she looks through the veil of smoke decorating the dance floor. She sees the way Nico is leaning into one of the girls whose name she had forgotten, his lips turned upward as she speaks directly into his ear. Charlie quickly looks to you in hopes that she could distract you before you took notice, but the solemn look that had fallen on your face told her she was a second too late.

To say you were confused as you looked upon the scene in front of you, would be an understatement. Ever since that night at Nico’s parents, he had been more upfront and clear with his intentions, or as clear as he could be without downright saying it out loud, and they led you to believe all that had been said and done. Now, you weren’t sure what to believe. However, your confusion was quick to shift towards insecurity that you drunkenly masked with jealousy.

“Hey,” Charlie’s voice filters through the cracks of your thoughts, “Want to go back to the floor?”

You moved your eyes to her, and you could see her own confusion written on her face, but you choose to act as if nothing had happened. Instead, you give her a tight-lipped smile and shake your head before grasping her free hand in your own and tugging her through the multitude of people standing about. If it weren’t so loud in the club, you would have heard her deep sigh as she lets you guide her, but you can feel her sympathy in the way she tightly squeezes your hand.

When you reach the others, you take the empty spot on the couch next to Timo while Charlie beelines towards Nina. You can feel Nico’s stare piercing the side of your head as you greet his teammate, letting him pull you into his side as he wraps his arm around your shoulders, but you don’t dare to look in his direction. You knew all he had to do was look at you a certain way and you would fall right back into the same trap he seemingly set before. 

You can see Charlie engaged in a rushed conversation with Nico in the corner of your eye, and you can’t stop yourself from tossing curious glances their way. Timo is trying to hold a conversation with you, but he takes quick note of the way your focus lies with his team captain, much like it always had before, and he chuckles to himself. When he sees Nico walking towards you, he quietly excuses himself, but not before sparing you a teasing drop of the left eye.

“Can we talk,” Nico asks as he’s standing before you, extending his hand for you to take,  “Please.”

His gaze was soft and pleading as he looked down at you, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you breathed deeply. The few seconds that passed felt like an eternity to Nico as he waited, but the moment he felt your soft palm slide into his own, nothing else mattered. He helped you to your feet, not letting your hand fall from his as he carefully guided you away from everyone and down a hallway littered with people.

He twisted the doorknobs of the various doors you passed until one finally opens, and he was gently pulling you in behind him. The room is dimly lit by the bulbs above, the walls lined with shelves that were home to what appeared to be cleaning supplies. A tense silence fills the room as you wait for Nico to say something, for him to at least tell you why he has you in a storage closet.

“What’s wrong,” He slowly asks, taking a step forward so that he’s only a few inches away from you.

“Nothing is wrong,” You deflect, looking at the wall behind him, “I’m fine.”

“I don’t believe you,” He shakes his head, “Everything seemed to be going good until you came back from the bar. You didn’t even look at me.”

“Didn’t think you’d notice,” You mumbled, silently cursing the tipsy state of mind you were in that gave you the confidence to say something you otherwise would keep to yourself. Mostly because you knew you were being over dramatic, but also because you were scared that there was weight behind your reasoning. 

You had hoped Nico didn’t pick up on the words that fell from your lips, but he did. He always did. His face twists in confusion as he tries to put together just what you had meant, but he was at a loss. He had been paying attention to you, and only you, the entire night, his eyes never leaving you for long. Not until you had disappeared behind a crowd of people at the bar and he began talking to– Oh.

“You were jealous,” He announces, his voice lighter and lined with a hint of amusement, “Weren’t you?”

“What,” You scoff, only meeting his stare for a fleeting moment, “Of course not. What would I be jealous of?” You visibly cringe at how unconvincing you sound, the octave of your voice higher than you intended it to be.

“Well, I promise there’s nothing to be jealous of,” He lowly chuckled as he hesitantly takes your hand, “Not that you were of course, but if you were, you should know that she’s married to a friend of mine. She was also asking about you, and that’s what we were talking about.”

This time you do meet his eye, blood pounding in your ears as his touch sends a shock from your hand all the way to your shoulder. He peers down at you, watching the way your shoulders relax and the storm of emotions swirling in your eyes calms and clears. He can tell that you’re searching for the right words to say but are coming up short, so he continues. 

“The other night,” He pauses when you drop your gaze, reaching his hand up so he can cradle your jaw in his palm and tilt your head to look at him, “The other night, I meant it when I said I wanted everything to do with you. I don’t just want to kiss you. I don’t just want small touches when I can steal them. I want it all, if you’re willing to give that to me.”

Your mouth is slightly parted as you take quick and shallow breaths, trying to will yourself to say something, to do anything other than stand there in silence. Nico is looking at you in anticipation, his thumb running along the curve of your cheek as his eyes dance across your face. The tension filling the room was slowly suffocating you, and you knew the only way to breathe again was to speak. 

“I would give you anything you wanted,” You exhale, not caring how pathetically desperate it sounded, “You’ve had all of me from the moment I heard your voice.”

Nico carefully leans down, his lips hovering over your own as he teases, “Only after you heard my voice, huh?”

“I’m a sucker for an accent,” You bashfully giggle, letting your eyes flutter closed as you shudder underneath him.

With a subtle tilt of your chin, he connects his lips with your own in what starts as a soft, slow kiss between two people who need a gentle reminder of what they mean to each other. However, the second your hands lazily drag up Nico’s shirt to loop behind his neck, it turns into something much more. Something more driven with passion and desperation. He grips your hip with his free hand, the other sliding to cup the back of your head as he deepens the kiss.

You cautiously step backward until your body comes in contact with the wall behind you, your fingers tangling in his hair as you stand on your toes to meet him with just as much fervor as he was giving. It was a clash of teeth and tongue, ardent desire pouring out of both of you so urgently that it left you weak in the knees. It was the kind of kiss you only ever heard about in books, and Nico effortlessly brought it to life. 

He explores the curve of your body with his hand, the thin material covering you granting you access to feel it like there was nothing separating him from you. Your head falls back as Nico begins to kiss down your jaw until he’s placing open-mouthed kisses to the column of your neck. Breathless moans tumble from your lips as you tug on the ends of his hair, eliciting a few quiet groans from his mouth.

“Nico,” You call out as his teeth carefully nip at the skin, “If you leave another hickey, I’ll kill you.” 

His laughter rumbles against your neck before he’s pulling away to look at you, “I wasn’t intending on it, schatzi. Not in a storage closet at a club.”

Warmth spreads from your stomach at the implication that the only thing stopping him from marking you again was simply the less than ideal location. Images of what could be, of Nico discovering parts of you he had only dreamed of seeing before, flooded your mind, leaving you dizzy and even more flushed than you already were. He maintains your stare, his eyes full of nothing but want and something else you were too fearful to recognize.

“We– I think we should go back out there,” You whisper as your chest rapidly rises and falls, “Just in case they come looking for us.”

“I really don’t think they will,” He chuckles, “But, yeah. We probably should.”

Nico laces his fingers with your own before he’s guiding you back through the maze of bodies and back to his friends. When you finally join them, every single one of them is looking from your faces to your intertwined hands as smug smirks toy at their lips. Your face heats up at their attention, mentally preparing yourself for the teasing that is undoubtedly going to occur for the rest of the night, as you follow Nico to the couch.

The rest of the night flew by with only very minimal teasing, most of which came from the mouths of Luca and Timo, and by the time you were back at Nico’s apartment, you were ready to sleep for the next 12 hours. He offered to make you and Charlie breakfast the following morning, but you both declined because there was no way you would be awake before noon. You laid in bed replaying the moment at the club over and over, your hesitance to accept his feelings for you were true slowly melting away until you were fast asleep.

The next day, the reality that your trip was coming to an end hit you when you were in the middle of lunch with Nico and a few others. You had experienced so much in the last week, both culturally and emotionally, and the idea of having to go back home wasn’t all that appealing to you. Of course you would be going straight to Michigan to continue your summer adventures, but Michigan didn’t have the one thing you really wanted; Nico.

You spent the rest of the day following the others around wherever they managed to drag you, which was primarily shops of different variety. The slightly hectic schedule forced you to swallow your sadness and focus on the present rather than the events of tomorrow. As the day was winding down and dinner ideas were being thrown around, Charlie insisted that the two of you buy ‘I love Switzerland’ shirts at one of the souvenir shops before retiring because ‘Did you even go if you didn’t buy the cliche shirt?’.

At dinner, Nico was always touching you in some way. Whether that be his arm slung over the back of your chair, his knee pushed against your own, or his hand on the exposed skin of your thigh. His displays of affection slightly caught you off guard, but you welcomed them with a shy smile you would pass him any time he looked at you. You even found an ounce of confidence to place your hand over his own, curling your fingers around his index finger as you willed yourself to focus on the conversation around you.

“I’m going to miss you,” Nina said as she hugged you tightly, “You really must come back sometime, and I’ll call you next time I’m in the city so we can go out!”

“I’ll miss you,” You smile, pulling away from her but keeping your hands on her biceps, “And I would love that. I’ll come back, I promise. Even if Nico isn’t here.”

“Ouch,” His voice sounds from behind you, forcing your gaze to him as he nears, “Replacing me with my sister are you?”

“She is infinitely cooler than you,” You playfully rolls your eyes.

“She’s right, I am.”

When the three of you arrived back at Nico’s, you and Charlie had gone straight to what had been your room for the last seven days. You had yet to start packing and you had a twelve o’clock flight, which meant you needed to be on the road to the airport no later than 8:00, and that left you no time to pack anything in the morning. While the two of you finished squeezing all of your clothes back into your suitcases, Nico was busy trying to busy himself with anything he could find rather than focus on the fact that you were going to be leaving tomorrow and his relationship with you was now much more complicated than before. 

“So,” Charlie draws out, “Did any results come from your sneaky little make out sessions?”

“What do you mean,” You furrow your brows, zipping the flap inside of your suitcase.

“Are you guys going to be like official or just two people who run off into the nearest empty room and get it on every chance they get,” She snickers as she throws you the dress you had worn when you went to visit Nico’s family. 

With a small, reminiscent smile on your face as you look down at the material, “We’re not– I don’t really know, to be honest. We haven’t talked about that.”

“Do you want to talk about it? With him,” She quirks her brow. She watches as your movements falter before you settle on a simple shrug. “Well, I think you should at least try or I think you’ll both regret it. At the very least I think you two should get it on before we go. I brought earplugs.”

“Charlotte,” You gasp, your eyes widening as she fails to bite back her smile, “Seriously? ‘Get it on’? You’ve been talking to Jack too much.”

“Yeah,” Her face reddens at the mention of your best friend, “I’m just saying it wouldn’t hurt anything! Show him how you feel, you know?”

While you shift the conversation to a different topic, the idea she had shamelessly proposed was ringing in your ears. While the proposition that you, in her words, get it on with him seemed a little far-fetched, telling him how you felt about everything would likely be a good idea. Especially given the fact you wouldn’t see him for another month and a half after you left for Michigan, and you would find a way to talk yourself out of anything if you let yourself wait that long.

Charlie didn’t ask any questions when you suddenly rose to your feet and stepped into the hall, but she did toss a quiet ‘Use protection’ before you were gone from her sight. Your feet carefully padded across the wood floor of the hallway, your hands nervously wringing at the fabric of your shorts until you were stood right outside of Nico’s bedroom. The soft light was slipping through the crack at the bottom of the door, illuminating your feet as you stared at them and mulled over your sudden actions.

Intaking a sharp breath, you brought your knuckles up to his door and lightly knocked a few times. Nerves were pricking at your skin as you waited for him, the pit in your stomach growing with each passing second and your hands were shaking at your side. When Nico finally pulls the door open, your come face to face with his naked chest and every sentence you had pre-planned in your head flew out of the window.

You have to force your eyes up to his own, your heart pounds in your chest as you try to get your mouth to cooperate with your brain. He’s looking at you with a slight sense of worry swirling in his eyes as he holds the door open and gently calls out your name, your silence making him uneasy. Through a surge of confidence you didn’t know you had, you were rushing forward and slamming your lips on his own. After all, you had always preferred to show people how you felt anyway.  

Nico’s reaction is instantaneous as you loop your arms around his neck and stand on your toes, pressing your mouth against him so desperately that he stumbles backwards. His own arms wrap around your waist and pull you into his chest, keeping you steady against him as the door clicks shut behind you. He turns you, his movements calculated and careful to keep his mouth on yours, and drags his hands down to grasp at the back of your thighs so he can lift you onto his dresser.

Your legs hook around his hips, your fingertips pressing into the muscle above his shoulder blade as his palms explore the curve of your body. Your head becomes dizzy as your mouths move together, neither of you wanting to pull away from the start of a moment you had both thought of far too many times. Nico was the one to pull away, his breathless pants meshing with your own as he slowly trails his fingers up until your chin is between his thumb and forefinger.

His thumb brushes your soft lips, his dark eyes boring into your own as goosebumps rise all over you. The skin underneath his touch was hot, burning with the desire to feel it across every surface of your body. You let out a shaky breath as your eyes flit across his face, learning every scar, every imperfection that made him undeniably the most attractive man you had ever seen. 

“Nico,” You whisper before taking a deep breath, bringing your eyes back to meet his burning gaze, “I want to– I want you.”

The pad of his thumb slightly tugs at your bottom lip as he says, “Are you sure?”

A smirk tugs at your lips as you think back to the moment a few nights ago, “Is this the part where I say I’ve never been more sure of anything?”

“Only if you mean it,” His voice was serious, yet gentle at the same time. 

“I do,” You swallow, “I mean it.”

Nico drew you closer, holding you against his chest as he reconnected your mouths. Your lips molded to his own like you had been made for each other, and it made him ache to see how well all of you fit against him. You clung to his body as he kissed you, gentle yet demanding with a fervent desire that matched your own. He was quick to move you over to his perfectly made bed, delicately laying you on the soft material of his comforter as he hovers over you.

You keep your legs wrapped around his waist, keeping him close enough that you can feel his bulge pressing into the flesh of your thigh. The stubble that had grown out during your stay with him rubbed against your soft skin, but you welcomed the slight sting with eager arms as his hands slipped underneath your shirt. You reach between your bodies to grasp at the hem, and Nico is pulling away from you to help lift it over your head. 

You move to undo your bra, but Nico was faster than you, his fingers fumbling as he undid the clasps. His fingers trail down your arm as he drags the straps off your shoulders, your entire body shuddering underneath him as you keep your eyes on him. You watch as he straightens his back and he unabashedly lets his gaze wander across your exposed chest, and, for the first time, you don’t feel the desire to cover yourself because no one has ever looked at the way Nico is. Like you were carved and sculpted by the Gods themselves. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” You tease, propping yourself up on your elbows.

“Tempting,” He deeply chuckles.

Slowly, he leans over and briefly meets your lips, your head falling back onto the mattress before he begins to kiss down your jaw. His fingers drag across your skin, over the curve of your breast, and down your stomach. His touch sets the skin under it on fire, his lips cooling it down as he moves down your body until he’s slotted between your thighs. His gaze flicked up to you, but you were too entranced in the way his mouth felt against you to meet his stare. 

His fingers loop in the waistband of your shorts, steadily sliding them down your legs until they’re in a pool on the floor. As the cool air hits your warm center, you finally lift your head to see Nico stepping out of his shorts and you can’t help but admire him. His stiff cock springs free from his shorts, a subtle gasp tumbling from your lips that you hoped he missed, but of course he didn’t. He quirks his brow at you, a coy smile on his face as he steps forward.

“Move further up,” He warmly orders, but his eyes are shimmering with unwavering devotion.

You do as he asks, shifting your body so that your head was placed on the plush pillows, eyes wide in anticipation as Nico positions his body just over your own. He uses his forearms to support his weight, gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips as you begin to drag the tips of your fingers over his sides and onto his back. He shivers under your touch, his tongue darting to wet his lips as he closes the gap between you.

When Nico kisses you, you feel weightless, as if you were floating above the clouds and into the heavens. The way his mouth moves with your own, fluidly and effortlessly left you wondering why you had ever bothered to kiss anyone else before because nothing would ever compare to this. You feel his hand drop between you, his hand diving between your legs and pushing them further apart before his fingers are lingering over your heat.

“No, want you,” You groan against his lips, a chill running up your spine as he draws his finger between the slickness of your folds.

“I know, schhatz,” He mumbles, your head falling deep into the pillow when he presses his thumb to your clit, “Need to get you ready, yeah?”

Your response was stifled by the breathless whimper that slips through your lips as he slips a finger into your entrance. His movements are slow and prudent, working his finger inside of you as you languish underneath him. As Nico feels you rock your hips against his hand, he uses a second finger to further ready you before he were to let himself fall all the way into the bliss that is you.

“Nico, please,” You plead, your fingernails digging into the plane of his shoulder, “Need you now.”

“Are you sure,” Nico reiterates, wanting to give you the opportunity to say no should you wish to.

“Yes.”

Nico pulls his fingers out of you, immediately grasping his length in his hand before his eyes are on your face. He takes in the way your eyelashes flutter as you grasp onto him, breathing shaky as you peer up at him, and he can’t help but surge forward and encase your lips in a small, yet passion fueled kiss. He readies himself at your entrance as he kisses you, teasing and prodding at the hole until you’re nails harshly scrape against his skin. 

The weight of his body as he pushes himself into you dizzies you, your eyes squeezing shut as you drop your head away from his and a slew of broken moans fill the room. Nico goes until he’s entirely bottomed out inside of you and he feels your walls stretch around him. He heard a quiet wince as you shift underneath him, but the moment he goes to say something, you beat him to it.

“I’m sorry,” You murmur, “It’s just been a while, but I’m okay. You can move, and yes, I’m sure.”

His gaze doesn’t falter from your face as he begins to slowly rock his hips against yours, making sure to keep his movements short and shallow until you were more relaxed. You’re biting your lip to muffle your moans, to keep them contained in the small bubble the two of you had created for yourselves. It wasn’t until Nico felt the sharp point of your heel dig into his lower back that his thrusts became deeper and rhythmic.

“Fuck,” He groans as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, your walls clenching around him.

A mixture of whines and curse words filter into Nico’s ears as he hits into you at a pace that is winding the coil in your stomach almost painfully tight. The way he was able to read your body like he had a map of it imprinted his mind drove you crazy as you tangle your hands in his hair. Quiet grunts vibrate against your skin before his right hand is hooking behind your knee and bringing it over his shoulder.

“Nico,” You mewl, the new angle allowing him to reach a part of you that you didn’t know existed, “Oh my god.”

“Huere schön,” He rumbles as his motion becomes quicker, more fervent and desperate. (Fucking beautiful.)

“I’m cl–”

Your sentence is cut short as your orgasm washes over you like a wave of scalding water, your entire body lighting on fire as Nico has to smother your mouth with his hand to keep your moans quiet. He continues to drive himself into you, his own ecstasy filled climax nearing a head as your walls flutter around him and your legs shake under him. Your hold on him tightens as he fucks you through your blinding orgasm, and not even his hand is enough to stifle your wanton moans.

With a few more lazy stutters of his hips, Nico is pulling himself all the way out of you before pumping himself in his hand, releasing his load all across your stomach. Your eyes were still screwed shut as you descended the blissful feeling of euphoria coursing through your veins, and that acted as an extra push for him to finish before he leans down to briefly capture your lips as he comes down from his own high.

Your eyes flutter open as he pulls away, meeting his gaze to give him a lazy smile as you say, “Can you clean me up?”

“Shit, yeah. Of course,” He rushes out, scrambling off his bed to find something to wipe your stomach.

He grabs two of the nearest clean shirts he can find, not having a towel in sight, and he makes quick work of the warm, sticky liquid spread across your skin. He makes sure he’s gotten everything before he tosses it in the direction of his dirty clothes, his gaze faltering over your naked, flushed body. He hesitantly hands you the other shirt he had grabbed, apprehension now cracking through his features. 

“Thank you,” You sheepishly mumble, despite the man before having now seen every part of you.

You pushed yourself up into a sitting position, slipping the shirt over your head as he stepped into his shorts. Nico could see the worry etching onto your face, and he’s quick to take the spot next to you and pulls you into his chest. He stays quiet, waiting for you to make the first move because while he knew he was ready for the talk that undoubtedly came after what the two of you had just done, he wasn’t sure if you were yet.

“What does this mean,” You whisper after the lapse of silence, nerves pricking your eyes, “For us?”

“What do you want it to mean,” He asks, equally as anxious as you were as he holds you close to him.

“I want to be with you,” You earnestly speak, though your voice still cracks, “But I don’t know if you want to be with me. I have my internship coming up and I’ll be busy, and you’re already busy enough, so I could understand if that wasn’t what you wanted. But I’m willing to make it work, for you. I meant it when I said I would give you anything you wanted.”

Nico’s breath catches in his throat as your words ring in his ears, and, with the mention of his job and your internship, suddenly he was slapped in the face with reality. He had let himself relish in the fantasy of summer the past week so deeply he had forgotten what he told himself, but now he was reminded of all of the harsh possibilities that could be, and he remembered why he had pulled away from you all those times before. It wasn’t always because of wrong timing for him, but you never knew that. You never knew that some things were on purpose, calculated and planned, to keep you at arms length from him.

His silence made your heart fall to your feet, and the unreadable expression on his face made you want to throw up. The expression he had on his face reminded you of the one you had sported yourself on more than one occasion, and you were silently begging him to say something, even if it was a rejection. Because at least then you would know how he truly felt.

“We can talk more later,” He finally says, his hand timidly flexing on your back, “This can wait, but you need to sleep before your flight.”

You don’t put up a fight as Nico lets go of you for a fleeting second to lean over and click the lamp on his table off. Neither of you say anything as you crawl underneath his blanket, letting him mold his chest to your back as he lazily wraps an arm around your waist. Your breathing was uneven as your mind wandered to the worst of possibilities, but you kept them to yourself. Partly because you were too afraid to ruin the already crumbling moment, but also because you didn’t know what you would do if you had found out everything he had said and done was a lie. 

When you wake up the following morning, it was to Charlie’s incessant knocking, and to an empty bed. You abruptly sit up, eyes darting around the room in search of any sign of Nico, and also your clothes. The only evidence you had of Nico leaving was the half-made bed, causing your lips to turn downward into a disappointed frown. Had he even tried to wake you up, or did he slip out undetected on purpose?

Once you had dressed yourself in the clothes you had originally entered the room in, you pulled the door open to see Charlie sporting a smug smile. Though, the second she registered your dejected face and the empty bedroom behind you, her look morphed into one of anger fueled sympathy. You didn’t say anything as you stepped around her to go back into the guest room in search of your phone. Maybe he had texted you, not wanting to wake you so you could get as much sleep as possible, but your messages from him were empty.

You ignore Charlie’s quiet, careful voice as she calls out your name, your feet moving quickly to lock yourself in the bathroom to get ready and finish packing your things. As you brushed your teeth, you felt like the air from your lungs was being sucked out of you, making them burn in your chest. You wanted to believe that Nico had a good reason for disappearing without a trace, but the logical part of your brain was snuffing out the last remaining shred of hope by the second.

“I’m fine, Charlie,” You say as you walk back into the room, your voice flat and clipped.

“Well, I’m not,” She scoffed, “What the fuck did he do? Where is he? I didn’t even hear him leave.”

“Don’t know,” You shrug as you shove the last remaining items into your bags, “Didn’t say anything to me, but it’s fine. I’m sure he has a good reason. Maybe he had to do some media stuff.”

“He better have a good reason,” She snapped, but you knew it wasn’t directed at you. Charlie had always been a fiercely protective person when it came to the people she loves, and she could cleary see through every excuse you made for him. Though, even with the ball of rage in her chest, she was almost as confused as you were, and she hated that she didn’t know how to help you.

The sound of the front door distracts the both of you, and you’re quickly running into the hall to see if Nico had returned, but instead, your eyes settle on the body of his sister. She had her phone up to her ear, her words harsh and angry as she spoke to whoever was on the other end. Once she noticed your presence looming in the hallway, desolate and defeated, she snapped one more comment toward the victim of her anger before hanging up and focusing on you.

“Hey,” She softly greeted, but you can see the sympathy swimming in her eyes.

“Nina, I love you, but I’m going to kick your brother's ass,” Charlie called out as she dragged both her and your suitcase into the living room.

“Trust me, I will help,” She sighed before walking towards you, delicately placing her hands on your shoulders, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” You lie, blinking away the tears burning your eyes, “I’ll be fine.”

Both of you knew your lie was far from convincing, but she didn’t say anything about it as she pulled you into her embrace. It was taking every ounce of willpower you had to keep yourself from crying as you hugged her, not wanting to make a big deal out of something that never really started anyway. After all, maybe there was a reason the two of you never seemed to find the right time back home and you had just always been too enchanted by the potential that you couldn’t see things clearly.

Nina helps you and Charlie do a final walkthrough of the apartment to make sure nothing was going to be left behind. Neither of them attempted to bring up Nico or what had happened before you were finally ready to leave. With the handle of your suitcase in hand, you walk out of his apartment door for the last time and you realize that maybe believing Nico’s words and actions to be meaningful was just wishful thinking all along, and you should’ve known that wishes rarely came true.

next part

[wordstome]

Shrike pt. 3 - who we are

König x high school sweetheart reader

2nd person, she/her pronouns, reader is Austrian/has lived in Austria and speaks German for most of the story, romance, pining, friends to lovers, reader's nickname is Thorn, König's first name is Alexander, absolute tooth rotting fluff, corny as hell towards the end

2.8k words

tw: physical and emotional abuse, violence (chokehold, stabbing, throat slitting)

Hello to everyone reading this from my main blog! In case you haven't seen the pinned post on bucca2, this is my new writing blog. Everything I publish will be here on wordstome now. Please feel free to unfollow bucca2 and follow me here!

also PARIS PALOMA TEASED HER NEW SONG "DRYWALL" JUST FOR SHRIKE CHAPTER 3 SPREAD THE WORD

[PART 1] [PART 2 (PREV)] [MASTERLIST]

What I had left here I just held it tight So someone with your eyes Might come in time To hold me like water Or Christ, hold me like a knife

When you’re in total darkness, your eyes adjust. You can see everything around you, but it’s all devoid of color. Then when the light turns on, it blinds you, but it’s better to be blinded momentarily than to live in the dark forever.

That’s how it feels as you prepare to travel home. To escape. You’re antsy, excited and petrified at the same time. Before, it felt like the days flew past in a murky haze. Now, even the seconds crawl.

It feels like moving in a dream, like you’ll wake up any day now and it will all be taken away from you. Your hope, your new dreams for the future, your König.

A shiver runs through you. Where did “your König” come from?

When you’re not occupied with the anxiety of keeping such a huge secret from your husband, all you think about is König. You’ve spent the past few weeks in a haze, like he’s put some sort of spell on you. You do get a kick out of imagining him as a witch with a hat and cauldron.

But you know it’s something simpler than that. All the feelings you used to have for him have returned.  It’s different than the heady rush you used to get with your husband. It feels sweeter, like you really are a teenage girl with a crush all over again.

It feels naïve, but you also don’t care. You feel safe despite the situation you’re still in, for the first time in a long time. You never would have expected to see König again—even less so for him to become your saving grace.

It seems silly in hindsight that you had been so frightened of him. Sure, the mask was a lot. But it had been something about his energy. It was different than you had ever felt from him, before or after your reunion. If he was that way on the battlefield, then no wonder he had earned the nickname König. You’re not sure if it scares or awes you.

You’re about to find out.

An anxiety attack is the worst feeling in the world.

You dry heave. Your chest feels like a roiling ball of angry carrion birds hollowing you out. You shake like a leaf in the wind. You fall down a long, dark pit of despair as your stomach seizes with nausea.

The train’s delayed. There’s been an issue with the tracks leading out of the city. No trains will be leaving for 12 hours.

You should have just sat in the terminal and waited, or tried to contact König, but you’re not thinking straight. All of your thoughts are focused on your husband, and what he’ll do if he comes home and finds you gone. You decide, somehow, that it would be wiser to throw yourself back into the lion’s den and pretend everything’s alright instead of waiting for him to come raging into the train station and pull you out by the hair. The thought of that is the only thing that gets you up off the wall you were hyperventilating against and back towards home.

The plan is to get home before he does and hide your suitcases. He’s usually not home by this time, anyway. You chalk the rising sense of dread in the pit of your stomach up to your anxiety and turn the handle to go in.

Fuck.

He’s standing in the kitchen.

The years have not been kind to him. He’s far from the charming young man you married. He’s wretched, unkempt, angry. It’s clear he’s been drinking, maybe even before he left work. The shadows etch themselves into the lines of his face as his expression twists into something awful, inhuman. You stand, frozen, as he approaches you.

“Planning a trip without me?” he asks with an awful grin.

You can still salvage this. “Yes. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, but I just received word. My mother’s not doing well. I have to go see her.”

“You lie like a whore,” he snarls. “Don’t think I haven’t been paying attention. You’re different nowadays. Not the nice obedient woman I married.”

Your fear turns to anger in an instant. Years and years of this horseshit, waiting on him hand and foot, placing his smallest whims before your own needs and wants—it rushes up through you like hot steam. His nice obedient woman. And the worst thing is, you hate that he’s not wrong. That is what you’ve become.

“Yesterday I came home and you hadn’t even started dinner. Where were you, huh? Running around on me behind my back?” It’s difficult to describe, but his smile is oily: sleazy, untrustworthy, dangerous. “With that big fuck in a hood that came here with the mercenaries, perhaps?”

Your blood runs cold at that. Has he seen you with König? When? Why hasn’t he said anything? It feels like you’re stepping into a trap, but you must move forward if you want to get out.

“He’s going to get what’s coming to him, alright. My manager has a direct line to his boss. One word from him will get that fucker deployed to the middle of nowhere on a suicide mission.”

It’s an absurd threat, and you know it. This drunken idiot has no idea what he’s talking about—as if some middle-management bureaucrat could persuade a PMC to dispose of a soldier like König. But it’s the audacity that irks you. You’ve lived your life serving this man for too long, and now he thinks the world will bend to his whims. There’s absolutely no way he can touch König, but an old and familiar anger rises in you.

A long overdue revelation dawns on you now. He’s a bully. The same as Andreas: little boys with petty insults and empty threats. Pushing people around because their own lives are empty and unsatisfying.

An eerie calm breaks through you like the sky cutting through a storm. The man before you is just a feral animal, snarling and snapping in desperation. You’re not afraid of him anymore.

You reach behind you and slowly roll open the knife drawer, grabbing the first one your fingers land on.

“I’m leaving. I’m leaving this house, this country, and this marriage,” you say, gripping the knife in a defensive position. Your father taught you how to hold a knife like this: backwards, with the blade along your arm, sharp edge facing outwards.

“This way, it’s much more difficult for someone to turn the blade against you,” he had told you, demonstrating the motion by moving your arm towards your chest. The memory makes you smile. At the time, you’d been indulging your old man—he had always said that violence was a last resort, but that the world was unkind and one day you may have to defend yourself. He was right, just as he was when he told you he had reservations about your marriage.

You’re going home. You’re going to see your father again. And you’ll never have to tolerate the loathsome toad before you again.

The beast laughs. “What do you think you’re going to do with that? Stab me?” He’s up against you before you can react, the breath leaving your lungs in a gasp as he pins you against a wall by the throat.

“You. Are. Mine. You will never raise a hand against me because I own you,” he hisses, his alcohol-laced breath foul against your face. “And it’s high time you remembered that.” His grip tightens like an iron vice around your throat, but you’re not afraid. Even as your vision begins to blur and blacken, you stare directly into his eyes. They’re like red-hot coals of fury, but you see what’s behind them now. The fear. The cowardice of a desperate man who has no recourse but to lay his hands on someone who can’t fight back.

“You’re pathetic,” you rasp, lips tugging into a smile. The coals burn brighter. The hand squeezes tighter. The adrenaline surges through you like a tide—and your body acts to protect itself, in a way that you haven’t allowed it to in a long time. A feeling as sweet and familiar as an old friend.

The knife makes its home right between his ribs.

He staggers away from you, as if you had slightly winded him instead of stabbed him in the heart. Your hands instantly go to your throat as you cough and sputter, lightheaded and dizzy but alive, so alive. You’ve never felt so alive as you do right now, watching the demon of your own personal hell look down at the blade sticking out of him.

“You stupid little bitch—” He makes as if to lunge at you, but time slows. Your eyes widen as the shadows behind him melt and solidify into a figure. Tall and hooded. No knight in shining armor, but an assassin of deepest night.

König slashes through your husband’s throat in one deadly, beautiful motion.

Your husband falls to the ground like dead weight, gasping and choking on his own blood. Your eyes are fixed on him, a strange sensation bubbling through you. You’re making some kind of noise, loud and cacophonous, as König steps over the dying animal who has controlled you your whole adult life.

His arms find their way around you as you slowly sink to the ground, howling and wailing. He’s so patient, you think numbly with some corner of your mind that remains untouched by the mania seizing the rest of you. The two of you sit there, his body warm and solid against yours, as your body slowly exits fight or flight mode.

“Alex?” you say hoarsely once you’re in your right mind again.

“I’m here,” he rumbles.

You turn to look at him as he pulls the hood off his head. There he is, your Alexander, all grown up. He’s rugged, with nasty-looking white scars streaked across his face, but so, so handsome. His eyes are still the same as he looks at you with something akin to rapturous adoration. Your green-eyed boy.

“You’re back, rosethorn,” he says with a wide grin. There’s a touch of madness to it, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“Was I…” Exhaustion sets in, seeping through your whole body. “Was I crying or laughing just now?”

He shifts you onto his lap, cradling you like a baby as you look up at him.

“I think you were laughing.”

The police release you after just over half an hour of questioning.

You aren’t going anywhere, of course. They’re leaving you, exiting your hospital room with murmurs of well-wishes for your health. They’ve hardly left the room when König comes striding in, instantly moving to your bedside and holding your hand in his.

He looks tired too, his eyes soft as he takes in your small smile. You’re sure he was being interrogated for much longer than you, but it looks like he passed muster as well. Not as if you had anything to worry about—what could the local police have done to the commander of the mercenaries taking down their local terrorist cell anyway?

“Are you alright? Did they clear you?” His expression hardens as he glances at your neck. You nod weakly. Your throat is going to be bruised for a while, but your attacker hadn’t done any lasting damage.

Attacker. Husband. Corpse. All of these words describe the same thing now.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner,” he says mournfully. “He shouldn’t have had the chance to attack you like that.”

You shake your head at him. He didn’t know that you weren’t on the train heading home, after all. The room is quiet for a few moments, save for the distant beeping of a heart monitor.

“Why…” you manage to ask. He knows what you’re trying to say.

“Why was I there?” He glances around to make sure nobody’s listening, and leans in to whisper in your ear.

“I was there to kill him, of course.”

You shudder a little. He admits it so casually, that he was in your house because he was there to commit a murder. You should be afraid of him, but you feel around in your brain and come up empty-handed.

Instead, you find yourself worried. For him. “What if you had gotten in trouble?”

He snorts. “You underestimate me, rosethorn. I would have just framed it as a robbery.”

You nod. Oh God…does that mean he had planned this? Why doesn’t that horrify or disgust you? You’re just going to have to dissect that later. Right now, you only feel a warm affection towards the man stroking his thumb along your hand in a soothing motion.

“So…what comes next?”

“You’re asking me? We can do whatever you like. I can take you home.”

Home. Where is that, now? It’s certainly not in the house you’ve left behind, where the ghost of the man you were married to settles in every nook and cranny. It doesn’t feel like your childhood home where your parents are, either.

It’s such a corny saying, “home is where the heart is”. But home feels like it’s already here, sitting next to your hospital bed with the fondest look in his eyes.

“I’d like to travel,” you whisper. The with you goes unspoken.

“I have plenty of leave time saved up.”

You flip your hand so you can hold his. It’s huge next to yours. This is the hand that slit your husband’s throat, a hand that has killed countless people.

You’re not sentimental enough to pretend that’s not an issue. You’re not entirely sure this is happily ever after: that all of your problems are solved because you’ve replaced one violent man with another. But another part of you yearns to be the one who gets protected. You’ll take care of König, and you know he’ll take care of you. In his own way.

You can ask the questions later. Right now, you have lost time to make up for.

“Are you sure you should be wearing that scarf?”

The air is cold, but the wind is soft instead of feeling like tiny blades against your face. You tug said scarf down from your face and take in a lungful of crisp, icy air.

“I’ll be fine,” you reassure König as he hauls himself up the last ridge to where you’re standing. “It’s loose enough. And it’s chilly.”

“If you say so.” He tugs his neck gaiter further up his nose. “What a view, hm?”

You’re standing on Mont Blanc, blanketed by serene white snow just as the name promised. Further below you, the skiing slopes are crawling with tourists, but here in this little outcropping, the only sound is the occasional rush of wind and your voices.

“I think I can see Salzburg from here,” you say, pointing off into gorgeous landscape spread out before you.

“That is most certainly still Switzerland,” König says, amused. You turn to look at him instead and are rewarded with his shining green eyes looking right back at you.

“Whatever!” You let out a dissatisfied hmph, which draws a hearty laugh from him.

“You came all the way to Chamonix just so you could look at Austria again?”

“It’s a very tall mountain,” you argue.

“It’s one of many very tall mountains. We could have just gone to Großglockner.”

“That’s boring. I’ve always wanted to visit France.”

“You wanted to visit a very expensive ski chalet.”

“Bite me.”

“I just might!” You giggle and squeal as he grabs you, chasing your face with his as you squirm around.

“It is beautiful,” he concedes as he holds a hand above his eyes to keep off the sun. “Almost as beautiful as you.”

“I should push you off this peak right now.”

“You couldn’t move me an inch.” He grabs you by the waist and holds you tight to emphasize his point. You can’t even shift his arms off you, no matter how hard you push.

“Ok, fine, you win.” You pout at him, but he doesn’t let you go.

The dynamic the two of you share is so easygoing and relaxed, it’s like you had a rhythm all along that both of you just fell back into. But of course, there are some things you’ve never done together. Like travel together.

Or kiss.

“Are you going to do it this time?” you ask him, smiling.

His nose wrinkles up, uncharacteristically cute for someone like him. “Well, I was going to, but then you had to open your mouth.”

You cackle. “Go on then.”

“Can I?”

“I just said yes!”

“I forgot how much you like to talk,” he complains. Before you can say another word, he captures your lips in his.

The sky is vivid and blue as the whole world stretches out before you.

#RIPBOZO

Here we are! We're at the end of this little story I started writing on a whim. Honestly, this means a lot to me personally: I wrote a lot when I was younger, but high school and university were very difficult times for me, and I stopped writing fanfiction. I tried to get back into it during the pandemic, but I was never able to finish anything beyond a long-ish drabble. I'm quite proud of this.

Even still, I feel like there are a lot of stories that I still want to tell about this couple. There's quite a lot that I decided to cut from these main 3 chapters for the sake of pacing and time. There's a little bit of dissatisfaction at not having crammed in every little detail that I wanted, but if there's one thing that writing university papers has taught me, it's that perfectionism will keep you from getting anything done. So you will be getting more from Alex and Thorn in the future!

I know a lot of you were anticipating what delicious revenge König was going to exact on Thorn's husband, so I hope you weren't too disappointed ;; While I personally would have loved to have König strap him to a chair in the basement and do some morbid things with a knife, I think it was important for Thorn's character that she's involved in it. While of course the main focus of this story is König, Shrike is also about his beloved Thorn. I hope to explore König and the darker (and pervier) aspects of his character more in subsequent stories. But for now, they're getting a well-deserved happy ending.

One last thing before I go: Chamonix is a resort town in central/southeast France, not far from Lyon. (Sorry, I don't know whether Lyon is south enough to be considered southern France lol). Mont Blanc is Chamonix's main peak of the Alps, and is known for how pretty it is and being at the border of France, Switzerland, and Italy. As König said, if you wanted to visit a mountain as an Austrian, there are several of them at home you could visit, but since I visited it a few years ago, Chamonix has a special place in my heart. I just had to cram it in!

As usual, I'm excited to see your comments and feedback. I've read every single thing everybody has commented about this fic, even if I couldn't respond to you all, and I appreciate it so deeply. Whenever I get feedback I literally feel like kicking my feet and giggling. And if you want to ask questions or request specific scenarios with Thorn and Alex, please do send me an ask!

@crowbird @poohkie90 @cumikering @iytatsworld @papaver-decervicatus @anxietyrain @riotakire @ax0lotly @kneelingshadowsalome @cookiepie111 @kacchasu @no1runawaymilkdad @chthonian-spectre @backwards-readings @yxllowtxpe @garbau @hexqueensupreme @queenthorin1 @violetstyless @her-majesty-theking @vegan-peppermint @peonytarian @ghostslittlegf @euuuuuuun @e1x03 @kokonoiwife @deaddainish @dragonfang @teehee-47 @catluvwr @fireballoveraltanta

psst. to my tag list people while I have you here: naturally I will continue tagging you in other Shrike stories, but I'll also be using this same tag list for every other König fic I write. If you'd like to opt out of that, let me know. (No hard feelings, of course :3)

[blood-grove]

odd adjustments

prev <- part 2 -> part 3

adoptive!soap and ghost + adopted!reader

× pairing: soapghost

× summary: the now retired couple decides that there house is feeling a bit empty besides there two cats and german shepard.

× tws: medication, mentions of ptsd, angst, minor injuries

The ride was long they lived ways out from the city which would be a change of pace and scenery.

Simon was quiet through the drive the silence wasn't uncomfortable it was nice you found yourself dozing off here and there along the trip jostled awake by the sudden bumpiness of the road glancing out of the window to see you were pulling up into a gravel drive way.

You grumbled quietly mainly out of tiredness you caught Simons eyes in the car mirror checking up on you as he parked.

"You can head inside out of the rain I'll grab the bags." Simon said as he promptly got out of the car with his own umbrella.

You quickly did the same heading over to the house where a cat waited behind the glass door seeing you it left.

Aw.

The door opened luckily it was unlocked as you stepped inside wiping your feet off on the mat setting your dripping umbrella into the umbrella holder nearby awkwardly shifting around as you stepped into the short hallway glancing around at the pictures on the walls as you made it to the living room the house was quiet aside from the movement upstairs which you could assume was possibly John.

You felt increasingly awkward as you glanced around flinching once the door opened once more Simon coming in holding both your bag and suitcase gently brushing past you as he sat them next to the stairs glancing back at you.

"You can sit anywhere you'd like" He hummed as he headed upstairs and so you did that sitting down on the couch as you slipped your phone from out of your pocket it was a bit cracked but it worked.

You eventually heard footsteps coming down John coming into the room with the grin you remembered.

You found the mohawk funny.

"It's nice ta' finally have you here!..I made some food so you can eat if you want or If your tired yer bedroom is upstairs first on the right its bare bones for now since we didn't know what ye'd like to decorate it with."

His accent was funny.

Oh you should answer.

"Uh um.." You just mumbled which got you a confused look with just made you tense which he noticed.

"Oh ah sorry forgot to mention- Cant hear very well out of my right ear n all supposed to be getting a new hearing aid soon So you may need to shout ever now and then—"

"I'm uh kind of hungry." You spoke up a bit more which John luckily heard this time

"Oh! Good Ah didnae waant the food tae git tae cauld even if its just sandwiches."

This wasn't as awkward as you thought it'd be.

You had eaten chatted up with John a bit more he was a nice guy a lot more talkative than Simon but you knew that from the interviews.

Simon had come down as well not without John badgering his to sit down something about his leg and medication you weren't too nosy.

He'd seemed to be getting the dog situated as he brought her down Riley was her name wasn't it?.

She was a German Shepard you thought as you stretched out your hand towards her with a glance at Simon she sniffed it before licking your hand you guess it smelt like the deli meats from the sandwich.

You scratched behind her ear as her tail wagged.

You'd put up with the awkwardness of adjusting to here for the dog.

Simon and John started talking about something as you pet Riley the rain hadn't really let up and began to pour down a bit harder thunder rumbling out as John mumbled something to Simon the man getting up with a grunt and headed back down the hall.

"He's just going to check if we have lanterns in case the power gives out." You flinched as John spoke you didn't even realize you were staring where Simon had left you just nodded.

"You can go up to your room y'know still early in the day plus so you can unpack and unwind n' all." John glanced at you as he spoke you just nodded again maybe too quickly getting up Riley leaving your side and heading down where Simon had went.

You felt nauseous laying in bed so many things running threw your head.

Also there was a cat on your bed.

You were pretty sure this was Old man, The gruff appearance and the near mustache and beard combo look in his fur fur and the greying hairs.

You held you hand out for him to smell and he just looked at you with near human unamusement.

You pulled your hand back and went back to thinking.

Right.

God what were you thinking about even?

These are good people.

This room is good.

This house is good.

The animals are better.

Why do you have to start spiraling now? Always sinking yourself into doom spiralling.

Hypothetical's that made no sense as the storm just picked up outside.

You grumbled as you got up and started to search through your suitcase Old man had hoped down to watch you as you swallowed trying to ignore the nauseous feeling your now sweaty hands find your medication.

You fumble with the cap always forgetting how to open it before you finally pop it off and dig out a couple of pills swallowing them dry even if you know you shouldn't.

You just tried to focus on not hurling on your new floor taking deep inhales as you shakily dug your fingers into the carpet below sniffling.

Fuck.

a/n: idk why i had to leave on a sad end ALSO I LIED ITS GETTING MORE PARTS

[secretagentspydetectiveninja]

The new trilogy means we finally got official French translations of the fifth and sixth games (the fourth already had one) so I did my thing and played through them, since they're always a lot of fun. Here are some things about French Dual Destinies I thought you might like to know:

Yes, it's set in France as per usual. They are all French people who live in Paris. And yes, that means that in this universe there is a Japanese village themed around yokai within throwing distance of Paris.

Athena lived in America in this version, and therefore peppers her speech with English and Spanish. My favourite unhinged franglais line was "let's get au travail" which I will be using from now on because it's hilarious

Many characters got French pun names again. Simon's name is "Jack Lamenoire" -- Jack, because the French version of Simon Says uses the name Jack/Jacques, and "lame noire" means "black blade". (Also he's not British or anything in this version, he just speaks in somewhat old-timey French.)

He has multiple nicknames for the judge that are all slight variations of "Your Baldness". He doesn't do that "-dono" suffix thing but he does refer to Phoenix in particular as "Maître Wright".

...I don't like pointing out things I didn't like buuuuuut his voice is a huge downgrade. Actually, to be honest, I don't like the new French voices that much in general... idk man they just don't sound very enthusiastic...

Filch's name is "Arsène Loupet", reference to the famous fictional thief Arsène Lupin, which I thought was pretty cool! (Herlock Sholmes was also a reference to that series too btw!)

Athena and Apollo use informal pronouns for each other pretty much from the get-go, but there have been some changes from the previous games: Phoenix now uses the informal "tu" for Apollo (and Athena) whereas in the prev game he didn't, Pearl now uses "tu" for Phoenix as well, and Klavier uses "tu" for Apollo now (but Apollo still calls him the formal "vous" lmao)

SPEAKING OF... SPEAKING OF. The French localisation continues to utterly baffle me when it comes to Klavier (or Konrad as he's called in French). No listen, liSTEN. In the previous game he was specifically stated to be English and did his law exams in England and dropped English words into his speech (and this is still the case in the trilogy version, I checked). But now?? They seem to have gone back on it and in this game he says he's German again, like the in English translation??? But he's still dropping English words into his speech randomly????? Look I already went through the five stages of grief when I found out they'd english-ified him, I made my peace with it, and NOW they change it???????

God and his new French voice sucks too (his old one was actually good)... what have they done to you my poor boy, was making you English not bad enough T_T Oh and he and Athena didn't even get their little language club moment where they both start speaking in the same foreign language?? Like, that just straight-up didn't happen here and I had been waiting for it aauuugh it's cool it's fine it's cool i'm okay i'm--

True to Dual Destinies fashion, there are still typos. In an emotional moment, Apollo took a leave of asbence from the office. Not absence. Asbence.

I can't put my finger on it but Robin's coming out scene felt more... respectful in French? The English translation was done over a decade ago so it feels somewhat dated, maybe that's why... I obviously don't know if she was purposely written to be a trans girl but she very much comes across that way, and it feels like the French translators were aware of that interpretation and took it into account, idk maybe it's just me

THEY GOT RID OF MY FAVOURITE LINE. THE FORESHADOWEY ONE WHERE SIMON TELLS ATHENA THAT THE PERSON SHE WANTS TO SAVE MORE THAN ANYONE ELSE IN THE WORLD DOESN'T DESIRE HER DEFENCE, AND HE'S CLEARLY TALKING ABOUT HIMSELF. THE FRENCH MADE HIM SAY SOMETHING ELSE WAY LESS COOL. I don't wanna be like "FRENCH TURNABOUT ACADEMY IS DEAD TO ME" because most of it was awesome, but man these occasional things made me wanna flip tables

Cosmic Turnabout and Turnabout for Tomorrow were great in French though, so there's that. Clay's French name is "Pierre" which worked surprisingly well because it means stone or rock, and the moon rock was also called that, so like, the phantom had to kill Pierre in order to get the pierre... idk it worked and it was cool

Simon and Athena switch to using informal pronouns for each other very near the end of the game, in the scene where they work together to psychologically mess with the phantom. It's around the time when they start openly calling each other by first name since everyone knows now that they're old friends.

Phoenix and Edgeworth also occasionally refer to each other by first name in this game, which threw me off completely. (Reminder that Edgeworth's French name is "Benjamin Hunter". Just picture Phoenix standing in front of Edgeworth and calling him BENJAMIN. Now you understand how absolutely bizarre it felt.)

Here's the entirety of The Dissin' of Phoenix Wright in French

[hannahssimblr]

Before I wake up, I hear buzzing in my dreams. I’m standing ankle deep in water in my back garden. Clontarf. It’s green and filled with algae so viscous that I cannot see the bottom, and there are crocodiles. I don’t see them, but I know they’re in there, lurking, waiting for the chance to lunge at me and have my left leg like a chicken drumstick. It all makes sense in the dream. My phone is buzzing. Why do I have my phone with me? Who is ringing me when there are crocodiles in my garden? 

“Mmph!” Jen tosses yesterday’s vest across the tent at me, and it startles me awake. 

“What?”

“Your phone. Your alarm or something. It’s going off.”

“I don’t have an alarm.”

“Uh, well, then it's ringing.” She yanks the covers over her ear and settles back to sleep. 

I press the green button. “Yeah?”

“Hello!” the voice on the other end is loud, cheerful. Too cheerful for- I check the time on the screen, -ten minutes past six in the morning. 

“Huh?”

“Have I woken you up?”

“...it’s fairly early.”

“Oh, sorry. It is already after seven where I am.”

I sigh and sit up, noticing all the places where my body hurts. “Who's this?”

“Jonas!” He says, “Jonas Osterhausen? Remember? We have been emailing?”

“Oh… yeah, yeah, of course. How are you doing, man?”

“Good, thank you. I was wondering if you received my most recent email. I haven’t heard from you.”

“Um, no, when did you send it?”

“Friday afternoon.”

“Right, well, I’m actually at a festival. I haven’t had internet access. Are you- is everything ok?”

“Yes, I was just once again checking about the deposit. My cousin is at the moment looking for a room, and he is ready to pay now, so I thought that if you had changed your mind-”

“No.” I say, “No, no, I still want it. I’m sorry I haven’t sent the money, but I’m actually selling my car next week. There’s a buyer. I just need to get back to Dublin to do it. Don’t worry, I’m coming back from my holidays on, like, Wednesday, I think. If you could hold off giving the room to your cousin, I…”

Jonas is chuckling, “Yeah, dude, it’s cool. I’ll keep the room for you.”

“Thank you.”

“Okay, enjoy your festival. It was nice to talk to you over the phone like this. You’re much different when speaking English.”

I rub my eyes. “Yeah?”

“Your German is pretty bad, man.” The line goes dead midway through his belly laugh. 

The sleeping bag crinkles as Jen turns over to regard me. Yesterday’s makeup smudged, black and blue and glittery, down her face. “Was that your new housemate?”

“Yeah.”

A pause. “So you’re actually going.”

“Of course.”

I can’t read her expression. “Oh, right.”

“You knew that.”

“Yeah, I just thought… never mind.” She flips over, settling back in with a yawn. “Did you kiss Evie, by the way?”

I haven't forgotten what I did. Accompanying the memory is a strange, gnawing feeling in my guts, like I have done something irreversibly fucked up. “Maybe.” I say.

“Oh, dear.”

“How’d you know?”

“When we met you two at the market, you just looked like you’d been kissing. I can’t explain it, but you had those mad, black pupils.”

“Maybe we were doing MD.”

“You weren’t.”

“Okay, well, whatever.” I plonk back down onto my sleeping bag and shut my eyes against the rising sun, glowing through the walls of flimsy nylon. But just as I am drifting off, I hear her stir again. 

“Tell me what it was like.” She whispers. 

“It was fine. None of your business.”

“Right. I was just asking because-”

“Go back to sleep, Jenny.”

“No, like, because I just needed-”

“Shh! Sleeping.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll talk to you later,” she huffs. "Remind me."

And we try our best to sleep for a few precious hours, before the campsite comes to life around us once again and another day begins.

Beginning // Prev // Next

[jtl-fics]

Some tbd for wipw please?

WIP Wednesday 9/4/24 (Closed) | TBD AU (5/20)

Eventually Andrew finishes packing up the two pies that were labeled for him. “I’ll wait to say goodbye to them.” Andrew says, leaning against the counter.

Neil nods, “They’d appreciate that.”

The two of them sit in silence, “Why did you learn Russian?”

Neil doesn’t flinch this time, not even slightly, “Well, with you, Aaron, and Nicky all knowing German and Kevin knowing French…” he trails off before he shook his head slightly, “I just wanted a language that was my own.”

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[fxrmuladaydreams]

say you’re mine (sv5) (dr3)

pornstar!seb x pornstar/camgirl!reader , pornstar!daniel x pornstar/camgirl!reader

summary: with the decision between seb and danny looming over you, you try to distract yourself from your feelings, but something happens that makes your walls fall apart

warnings: !! CONTAINS SMUT, MINORS DNI !! fingering, protected p in v, panic attack, safeword use

notes: omg look! rose FINALLY posted a new pornstar chapter! only two left after this one

prev part next part

The last thing you wanted was for it to become weird between the three of you. Well, weirder than it already was. The awkward air still floated around you occasionally, but your heart still melted in your chest whenever you were with either man.

Sebastian kept to his word, making sure to keep things friendly, but occasionally becoming a little too comfortable around you. An arm would find its way over your shoulders or his head would duck down to your ear as he whispered something to you. His close proximity was addictive, and it made you wonder if he knew the effect he had on you when he gave you a wicked grin.

Yet that all washed away when you were with Daniel. Still playing the doting almost-boyfriend role, he managed to make you forget about the blonde haired German when you were with him. He was all sweet words and affectionate touches. You enjoyed your time with him in his home, bundled up in his clothes, wrapped in his arms.

As much as you wished you could stay like this forever, you knew it was wrong. Someone would end up hurt, heartbroken, all because you couldn’t make a decision between the two.

It all came crashing down soon enough. You had asked Daniel if he wanted to film something. After filming a video for you and nothing for him you figured it was only fair. He was quick to insist that you didn’t have to, that he was more than happy to just keep things the way they were, afraid that filming something would make things awkward between the two of you again, or worse, drive you back into Sebastian’s arms.

He wanted this to go well, to be as perfect as it could be. He opted to film it at his house, hoping it would make you more comfortable being somewhere you were familiar with. He spent the morning making sure everything looked good while he waited for you to come over. He cleaned up the spare room you’d be filming in, he made you some food to eat beforehand, and stocked up on snacks he’d noticed you enjoyed for once you had finished filming.

He felt his heart hammer in his chest when he opened the door for you. He let out a soft hello when you flashed him the smile he longed to be the recipient of, and led you inside.

You ate the meal he’d made you like every other meal you’ve shared together, with bright smiles, bumping shoulders, and a light banter back and forth between the both of you. You helped him clean up once you’d finished eating, then made your way up to the room to film.

“So, uh, I figured we could do this a little differently? I’d like to try to be… softer?”

His words hit you like a ton of bricks. You see Seb in your mind, telling you almost the exact same thing.

“I like the way you are.” You tell Daniel. You reach for his hand and hold it in yours. “You don’t have to be soft with me Danny.” You tell him.

He knows you’re right, he knows that you can handle him, but when you look up at him with wide eyes, your voice sounding soft as a mouse, he’s still hesitant.

“Are you sure?” He asks you.

You nod. “I’m sure.” Then you lean up to kiss him. You kiss him hoping it’ll block Sebastian from your mind, and possibly ease Daniel’s nerves.

He gives you an unconvincing smile, then turns away to finish setting up his camera. You take a seat on the soft plush bed. You let your eyes travel around the room. It must’ve been a guest room or something. The walls were pretty bare, save for a few paintings scattered around. The dresser had a candle on it, as well as a small succulent. The drawers you’re sure were empty.

You remember the conversation you had with Daniel the first time you were at his house. He so badly wanted to fill his home with life, to have people that he loved and cared for with him. That could be me. You think to yourself. You could easily see yourself staying here with Danny, sharing a life together, turning his home into a shared space for the two of you.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when Daniel turns back to you. He gently asks if you’re alright, the glazed look in your eyes worrying him.

“I’m fine.” You smile at him. “Come here.” You take his hand and softly pull him down so that he’s seated next to you. You cup his face and press your lips to his.

The kiss starts off soft and slow, Daniel clearly hesitant in his actions. You take his hands and guide them to your hips. He holds you, his grip becoming tighter when he feels your tongue slip into his mouth.

He’s surprised that you’re so eager to take control, but he doesn’t let you get too far before he gently pushes you down and slots himself between your legs.

Your dress ends up hiked up at your hips, both of you far too eager to pull away from each other to undress yourselves. His fingers tease you over your panties as his lips travel down your neck.

“Getting excited, are we?” You can feel him smirking against your skin as he presses against the growing wet spot on your panties.

“Please Danny.” You whine tilting your hips up.

“Alright. Since you asked so nicely sweetheart.” He pulls your underwear to the side, sliding two fingers in between your folds. “Making such a mess already?” He pulls his head away from your neck to look down at you.

You moan as he pushes his middle finger inside you, followed by his ring finger. He tries to hold his own moans in as he feels you clench around his fingers.

“Fuck, you’re so wet bunny.” He curls his fingers up, brushing against the little spongy spot in you.

You arch your back, and reach down to grab his wrist. “I need more Danny. I need you.” You whine.

He nods, pulling his fingers out of you and licking them clean. It’s indecent, the way he softly moans at your taste as his eyes flutter closed.

He’s pulled away from his you-induced trance when he feels you tugging at his jeans. He chuckles as he watched you struggle with the button and zipper, practically tearing them and his boxers off of him.

“Alright, alright, just lay back sweetheart.” He leans over to the edge of the bed and shuffles around in a drawer. He holds a condom in his hand when he’s kneeling back over you. You’re quick to grab it, tearing it open with your teeth and rolling it onto him.

“Fuck me.” He groans.

“I’m trying to.” You grin up at him.

He gives you a similar smile, then dives down to kiss you.

This is the Danny you want. The one who’s confident, who isn’t afraid to be a little silly sometimes, who has a heart bigger than anyone else you know.

The first push inside you sends you both reeling. You gasp at the stretch, while Daniel groans at how tight you feel around him. He slowly works his way inside you, getting deeper and deeper with every soft thrust. He stills when he’s fully sheathed in you, giving you a second to adjust.

“Are you okay sweetheart?” He asks, attempting to keep his hips still against yours.

You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I need words.”

“I’m good Danny. You can move.” You tell him.

He slowly inches his way out of you then pushes back in, creating a rhythm.

“Faster Danny! Please!” You moan out.

He nods, this time pulling his hips away then slamming them back against you.

The moan you let out is loud, so loud you thank god Daniel doesn’t have neighbors close by.

The room his filled with his grunts and your moans and whimpers. You feel your orgasm quickly approaching. Your hands tangle in Daniel’s hair as you pull him down to kiss you.

He’s panting when you pull away, a crease between his brows, as he fucks into you.

“Danny, I’m close.” You tell him.

“Say my name.” He grunts.

“What?” You ask, surprised by his request.

“Say my name, tell me who you belong to.” His eyes are shut, he’s solely focused on his thrusts into you, that he can’t see the discomfort that settles on your face.

Suddenly it all feels like too much. His thrusts are too hard, it feels like he’s pounding against your cervix.

Your head fills with thoughts of Sebastian. Of the nights you spent together, the meals you shared, the quiet moments in his arms. You can see him in your head almost kissing you again.

Then you see Daniel. You see the life you could have together. The happiness he brings you and the peace he’d give you. You see him in the swimming pool, laughing as he’s drenched from the water.

You can feel your chest becoming tighter, your breathing becoming almost difficult.

“Say you’re mine.” His words sound too much like a command.

“Red!” You practically shout, pushing against his chest.

It’s almost like a flick of a switch, just how quickly Daniel pulls away from you, a soft, worried look in his eyes.

You pull your dress back over your legs, heaving as you try to calm down.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?” He reaches out.

You flinch away from his touch.

“I’m sorry, I just- I need to go.” You quickly get uo and rush out of the room.

Daniel follows you, tugging his boxers and jeans back up.

“Y/n, wait, please, we can talk about whatever happened-”

“I’m sorry Daniel. I just- I can’t be here right now, I have to go.” You tell him before you rush out his front door.

You practically run to your car, and speed off down the road. You must be breaking traffic laws, with just how fast you make it back to your home.

You finally take a deep breath once you’re parked. You turn the car off as a shudder runs through you. You lean down and rest your head against the steering wheel, letting out a sob you were surprised you were able to hold in for so long.

[myosotisa]

Old Heart - Part 4 - Build

‖ chapter summary: Following the destruction of Memphis, you and Eddie make your way to the spot where he is set to hand you off for the final leg of your journey to Colorado.

‖ tags: enemies to lovers, age gap (41 and 25), forced proximity, slow burn, angst, hurt/comfort, HEA, "zombie" apocalypse, reader uses she/her pronouns, no y/n, no physical description given, minors dni

‖ chapter warnings: grief and the tumultuous emotions included. abandonment issues. mentions of untreated terminal illness (cancer). implied/referenced suicide (very implied, not graphic). animal death and using it in a meal. also alcohol.

‖ word count: 11k

‖ prev ‖ ao3 ‖ masterlist ‖ tag list request ‖ next ‖

August 18th through 23rd, 2016 – somewhere in Arkansas

You only make the mistake of asking Eddie to talk about Memphis twice.

The first time was Thursday night after the two of you had settled into a place to sleep that seemed secure enough for both of you to sleep through the night. He’d assisted you with changing the bandages on your wound with the supplies him and Max had managed to scrape together while you had been catatonic. It was vague – more of an offer that if he wanted to talk to you about it, you were there for him. He’d bitten back with a harsh retort that there was nothing to talk about before rolling over and pretending to go to sleep.

Progress had been slow as you trekked across the state together due to your injury. You felt tired faster, found yourself pushing to keep going until you got so dizzy you almost fell over, then had to take a rest before you did the same thing all over again. Eddie never once complained about the pace but you could tell the sitting and waiting for you to be ready to move again was weighing on him. He would anxiously pace while you sat, or make an excuse about going to make sure the perimeter was clear and disappearing for 15 minutes at a time. The first leg of your trip he was standoffish and closed off but, ever since Max left, he’s been fully avoidant. Not wanting to get into situations where he would have time to stop and think.

Running away from silence and stillness like he had a bounty on his head.

When you ask again if he wants to talk about anything that happened in Memphis, he doesn’t snap. He barely responds at all. He sits there in the moonlight with one leg kicked out and the other bent up with his arms crossed on it. There’s a far off look in his eye despite his gaze being firmly settled on his boot. Dark shadows are cast along his features that make the circles under his eyes seem more sunken and his jawline more defined. A shadow of himself in the dark.

“Who’s Sally?”

The question catches you off guard, your legs crossing under you as you lean back against a dusty bookshelf in the dark room. “Sorry?”

“When we were leaving Louisville, you told–” His voice is soft and ragged – it catches on the word and he has to clear his throat to keep going. “You told Dustin to ‘get home safe to Sally.’ I didn’t know he was seeing anyone.”

You’re not able to contain the amused snort that forces itself out of your nose and you notice that the silhouette of his head whips toward you in response. Quick to explain, you tell him, “Sally is a German Shepherd. She lives on the farm with Dustin and Will.”

“Ah,” is his short response. You think maybe that will be the end of it but a few moments later he’s talking again. “His mom was a cat lady. He liked the cats, but I always kinda got the feeling he was a dog person. So that’s, uh… That’s nice to hear.”

“Yeah, he’s obsessed with her. Talked about her almost as much as you on the trip there.”

This makes him huff, a quick exhale of breath. You wish you could see his face – figure out if that was a good noise or a bad one. For not the first time, you find yourself wishing you knew what he was thinking.

“I had a cat for a little while.”

His confession has you suddenly on the edge of your seat and you struggle to rein yourself in. Try not to think about how excited it makes you to hear him let a little fact about himself like that slip free. Carefully, keeping your tone neutral like you’re trying not to spook a wild animal, you ask, “Oh yeah? What was their name?”

You’re surprised when he actually answers. “My uncle named her Mimzy. Stupid fuckin’ name,” he complains, though it comes out through a chuckle. “Then again, the cat was dumb as a brick so I guess the punishment fit the crime.” You spend a few moments considering if you should ask more questions to try to keep him talking but he does so on his own. “She lived under our trailer when I was in high school. Was just fur and bone when I started throwing scraps outside for her to eat. ‘Course she stuck around after that. Even though I was the one who started feeding her, she always preferred Wayne. Would rub all over his legs when he got back from the plant in the morning after ignoring me all night. Though she was a fan of mine for a while when I saved her dumbass while trying to fight a raccoon.”

Still not quite sure how to handle this situation in which Eddie is willingly talking about himself, you fall back on humor. “Trying to fight a raccoon is a rookie mistake. They have fully functioning fingers. A cat stands no chance.”

This time the huff he lets out is definitely amused and you find yourself warming under the approval. “I’m just glad she didn’t get rabies or something from the thing.”

While it feels a bit like pushing your luck, you take another metaphorical step closer by offering up some bits of your own. “We had a dog when I was a kid. Yappy little terrier named Lola.” He doesn’t move to interrupt you so you push your luck a little further. “I was always more of a cat person but my dad fucking hated them for some reason, so I was never allowed to have one.”

“Didn’t get one when you had the chance?” He asks, and it makes you hesitate.

Not sure if he forgot how young you were or if he meant something else, you are reluctant to remind him. Despite the worry that it's the wrong move, you still awkwardly answer. “Well, I was only 13 when everything went to shit. And they didn’t want animals on the base so… No.”

Silence falls like a blanket of thick snow. It feels fuzzy and heavy. You immediately try to figure out how you can reel the words back into your mouth, say literally anything else that would keep him talking. Keep the silence from creeping in like hands around your throat.

“I forgot,” he’s borderline whispering now and you can barely hear it over the buzzing in your ears. “Can’t imagine how fucked up it was to go through that as a kid.”

You shrug even though he can’t see it, feeling that captive piece of you starting to pace behind its bars again, looking for the first sign of weakness to lunge. “About as fucked as it was for everyone else, I guess.”

“Yeah… Guess so.” The moment sits heavy on you both before the sound of leather on polyester hisses in the empty air. There’s a lot of shuffling from his side of the room and you see the shadows of him settling down on his sleeping bag. You take that as your sign that he’s done talking.

A small part of you thinks about telling him goodnight. You decide to stop while you’re ahead.

The next 3 nights go similarly. When you’ve both found some abandoned place to sleep, he helps you change your bandages. Looks out for signs of it getting infected and lets you know if it seems to be healing or not. When your cobbled together sling gives out, he rips apart his white overshirt to make you a new one despite your protests that you can manage without. Once your arm is settled and you’ve both eaten at least a little bit of something, you start talking. Not much, maybe 15 minutes to half an hour. But those sacred minutes allow you to learn more little facts about Eddie. Never anything related to Memphis or life during the pandemic. It’s all things from before.

He had the same flannel shirt in 3 different colors because he just really liked how it looked on him. A part of him always wanted to get into fixing up motorcycles in his free time. He also used to enjoy drawing and playing fantasy games with his friends. He learned to play guitar when he was a kid from an old 6 string that his uncle had but never used. 90% of his tattoos were from before, only two being added to the mix over the last 13 years. Not for lack of wanting – more like lack of resources and not trusting those who had set up “shops” these days to do stick and pokes. On that note, his first two tattoos were stick and pokes he did himself in high school.

You drank all the information like sugar water for a fly – desperate to be filled even if it wasn’t the way you were hoping it would be. Even if it didn’t end anywhere, even if it didn’t help either of you. It was something.

In a world where everything felt like a luxury, vulnerability was the rarest among them.

Evening of August 23rd, 2016 – Three Corners, Cherokee Nation, Oklahoma

The last hour or so of your hike through the middle of nowhere has been dirt roads and wooden fences that barely remain standing on the dusty roadsides. While you have questioned him once or twice, Eddie is determined that he knows exactly where he’s going. That he’s made this trip before, could do it blindfolded. And, with the sun quickly sinking toward the western horizon, all you can do is hope he’s right.

As you kick your way through orange dirt roads covered with rocks and tree limbs, the ruined fencing to your right starts to slowly be replaced with newer wood – better maintained and more sturdy. Further beyond, the wooden beams are replaced by a chain link fence that rises a foot or two above your head. This looks even newer, barely rusted and without any cuts or weak points. Despite being far from anything you would even attempt to call civilization, it seems that you are getting closer to something someone is caring for.

You don’t realize that you’re lagging behind, distracted and exhausted, until Eddie looks back over his shoulder. “We’re almost there, Bambi. Just a little farther.”

Not sure if he means to be encouraging or condescending, you decide to take the opportunity to talk again. Maybe if you can focus on that instead of your sore muscles and swollen arm, you can pass the rest of the time easily. “Y’know, calling me Bambi is kind of fucked up.”

He stops, slowly turning toward you with concern and confusion on his brow. He waits for you to catch up before continuing on with you in step. “How exactly is it fucked up?”

“Y’know, because both of my parents are dead now.”

He chokes on air, a hacking laugh forcing itself out of his throat. His eyes are shining with a certain mischief in them, one you haven’t seen since Memphis. “First of all, that’s so fucking dark, Bambi.” You blink at him a few times, not understanding exactly what he means. He continues on, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Second of all, I don’t know if you noticed, but a lot of people’s parents are dead.”

You scoff, shaking your head and looking back out to the road as you murmur, “Asshole.”

“Third of all,” he continues, ignoring your retort, “I’m pretty sure we started calling you Bambi because you’re going out into the world for the first time on your shaky legs; eyes wide and unsure. Not because your parents are dead.”

The realization hits you harshly, suddenly embarrassed for your own morbid assumption. “Oh,” is all you muster, teeth clenching as you try to shake off the fumble. “I am not on shaky legs. I’ve been in the world this whole time, same as everyone.”

“Sorry, but I don’t think your tall ivory walls of government protection count as ‘out in the world’.” He goads, almost sounding pleased with himself. Either not at all catching on to how the assertion frustrates you, or not caring that it does. “We didn’t all get our 3 square meals a day or access to clean water whenever we wanted it.”

The boil in your blood mounts higher – hotter than it’s ever been in his direction. While at the beginning of your journey, you’d been annoyed with his attitude toward you, this is entirely different. This is him taking a knife to where it hurts and twisting it just to watch you bleed. White hot blood you’re quick to spit back.

Your tone is barely contained fire and steam when you say a resolute, “Fuck. You.”

He looks almost like he wants to laugh until he glances in your direction and sees the look on your face. Subconsciously, he shifts another inch away from you, swallowing harshly as he stuffs his hands back into the pockets of his jacket. “Sore spot. Got it.”

The acknowledgement that his comments hurt you does little to smother the flames clawing up your throat, but you leash your tongue and use them to propel you forward instead. Settling into a tense silence that could last 5 minutes or an hour. It’s hard to tell with the rate the sun continues to sink down onto the horizon and the grasslands surrounding you remain unchanging.

Luckily, the fuming is interrupted by Eddie using his long legs to his advantage and crossing over in front of you to grasp at what you’ve just noticed is a gate in the chain link fence. He fights with the chain wrapping the gate closed for a few moments before he manages to prop it open far enough for you both to squeeze through. You pass first, crossing from a dirt road to what can only be described as worn down tire tracks in the grass. It arcs forward and toward the left, disappearing behind a small grove of trees.

“Is this it?” You ask over your shoulder, glancing back as Eddie once again wrangles the thick chain back into place. “Three Corners?”

“Yup, just up the drive.” He exhales a huff as soon as the chain is back in place. Looking at you with an emotion behind his eyes that you can’t determine, he clears his throat and sets into following the path again. “End of the road. For me, at least.”

The startling realization that this is the end of your journey with Eddie hits you unexpectedly. Twists your gut in a way it didn’t when the handoff happened with Dustin. That you had always known was temporary, a means to an end. Just like this was supposed to be.

When had you lost grasp on that?

Oblivious to your internal struggle, Eddie treks ahead, the call of a place to rest and get clean too enticing to let wait any longer. He’s already disappeared around the bend of the trees before you even catch sight of the property.

First, there’s a light blue walled barn, looking only a little bit worse for wear. More like seasoned in the Oklahoma winds. Two of its off-white, rolling doors are shut, the third opened to a room lined with what looks like workbenches – but it’s hard to tell exactly what in the growing shadows of dusk.

Second, you spot a house. One story, laid out wide rather than tall, and organized with mismatched windows and shutters. The walls are painted the same sky blue as the barn, with white trim and a beige slatted roof that is missing more than a few shingles. The roof extends over a small porch, just big enough to fit the door and 2 rocking chairs, and ends in a copper rooster that slowly rotates back and forth in the light wind.

The front door is wide open, presumably from Eddie, and shows only shadows of what is happening on the inside. You hover there in the open space in front of the house, not sure what to do, until you hear Eddie’s voice calling out.

“Hey! Anyone home?” He barely pauses before continuing, his voice getting closer as he goes. “Jeff? … Ama? … Anyone?”

He reappears from the shadows of the house, crossing back through the threshold with a sharp crease of concern between his eyebrows and his mouth set in a thin line. “Hey, you out here?” He continues, long legs carrying him to the barn next, where he once again disappears into the shadows you’re not yet brave enough to venture into. “Jeff? Ahuli?”

The sound of a creaky metal hinge rings out toward you in the open space, echoing out into the quickly darkening sky. Determining your hesitancy in this unknown space is less important than your desire to sit down, you suffer the last few steps to one of the rocking chairs on the porch, tossing your pack to the ground before throwing yourself onto the seat, almost falling backwards with the force of your exhaustion.

Eddie comes back out into the open, hands on his hips as he makes a slow circle to search around the area within view. Leaning forward on your elbows to contain the sudden urge to melt into the ground, you tilt your chin up toward him as he stops to face you. “Looks like no one's home.”

“Yeah, which…” He takes a few steps closer, dust coated face still wrinkled in concern. “They knew we were coming, maybe not this soon but… I don’t know where they would even go.”

“Maybe they left a note or something,” you suggest, wanting just a few minutes to sit and not worry about what was going to happen next. Wanting a few minutes to just rest. “Could look around the house or – maybe they said something to someone over the radio?”

His expression drops from worry to something that looks a bit like despair when he turns back toward the open workshop door. “I should… Let them know we’re here. Tell them what happened.”

But he doesn’t move an inch. Just stares at the steadily growing shadows of the empty barn. Like if he doesn’t go over there, he won’t have to say it. Won’t have to relive it and remember it.

This is something you can’t run from.

You push yourself to your feet, almost numb at this point of exhaustion, and walk past him toward the barn. Without looking back, you hear him get moving behind you, following you as you approach the structure and cross the threshold. Straw softens your step over concrete floors, making your footfall near silent as you venture further into the darkness.

Try to ignore the fear, shake off the urge to reach for your gun or your flashlight. You’re safe here, you’re safe here, you’re safe here–

A short sound comes from behind you and then the room is bathed in harsh white light, nearly blinding in its sudden appearance. You squeeze your eyes shut for a few moments before slowly blinking them back open.

Two of the walls of the room are fully lined with wooden table tops, drawers and random scraps littering the spaces beneath. It looks almost like some kind of machine workshop – drills, hammers, pliers, wiring, and more scattered across the wood between tools and small machines. Most of it you couldn’t even hope to recognize, but as you slowly turn to scan more of the space, you see Eddie approaching what definitely looks like a radio receiver. There are wires all over, some disappearing behind the workbench it sits on and others loosely arching toward the ceiling and through a cutout. Homemade antenna?

He flicks it to life with ease, a burst of static echoing out along the space before settling into a stable hum of sound. Lowering into a crouch, he has to get pretty close to the dial as he adjusts the frequency, like he can’t see the numbers well. You’re about to offer to help him when he drops his hand and straightens up with a groan.

It tumbles out of your mouth before you can stop it. “Careful old man, or you’ll throw your back out.”

Bracing for him to lash back with something mean, you’re surprised when he snorts a laugh out of his nose, shaking his head lightly before throwing a glance back at you and saying, “Bite me.”

And maybe it’s the smirk on his face, or your exhaustion, or your life falling to pieces around you, but you somehow decide that the way you want to reply to that is, “When and where?”

This time he fully looks at you, eyebrows raised in utter surprise, his smile growing and shifting sideways as your face heats in embarrassment. “Yeah, Bambi?”

“Shut up,” you mutter to his teasing, dragging a tall stool across the straw floor to sit beside him. He is still looking at you, a sharp glint to his eye that makes you feel like a mouse being cornered by a cat. “Just radio in,” you try to order, but it comes out more like a plea.

“Whatever you say,” he concedes with a sly smile, pulling the receiver up to his mouth and pressing down on the button. The static hum cuts out as he says, “Hawk’s Nest, come in. I repeat, Hawk’s Nest, come in.”

The moment he lifts his finger, the static cuts back in. Neither of you move, almost not even breathing, as you wait for a response. Eddie, showing more impatience than you, tries again. “Hawk’s Nest, this is Crow, do you read me?”

When he releases the switch again, you dip slightly forward to look at his profile. “Crow? You have call signs?”

He groans, eyes rolling back into his head. “Yeah, and it’s all bird-themed shit. Blame your fucking sister.”

“Ah, Robin, figures.”

“Pain in my ass,” he reaffirms, but the small smile that remains on his face betrays him. He lifts the receiver again like he’s about to repeat when the static crackles a few times – waving between a very high and low pitch before a static tinted voice cuts in.

“Crow, this is Hawk’s Nest. Read you loud and clear.”

“Thank Christ,” he sighs out before pressing down the switch again. “Crow reporting package arrival at drop 3.”

Annoyance prickles at the base of your skull again, ready to snark back about not being a fucking package but the voice you still don’t recognize cuts back in. “Package arrival heard, will relay.”

He barely waits a second before jumping in again. “Drop 3 handoff incomplete, receiver not present. Any report?”

It all sounds so incredibly vague and short form – like if you didn’t know exactly what was going on you wouldn’t be able to make heads or tails of any of it. That’s probably the point actually, that anyone listening in would have almost no idea what they were talking about.

There’s some additional crackling, a longer pause before the voice cuts back in. “Nothing noted. Standby at drop 3, will report back at 1500 hours tomorrow.”

“Heard,” he confirms and releases the switch. You wonder if he’ll leave it there, not mention anything about Memphis or Max or any of it. It’s almost like he’s tempted to, because he looks over at you with a hard tension in his jaw. You’re not sure why, if there is something he wants you to say or do. If there is some kind of encouragement you could give him, some comfort you could provide.

Nothing feels right to say. So instead you heave a deep breath, wounded arm protesting as your chest expands, and exhale long. Whether consciously or not, Eddie mimics the motion, shoulders rising and falling as he exhales out through his mouth and then presses down on the switch again. “Hawk’s Nest, additional intel for the line.”

A few seconds of hum before the voice replies, “Ready for the line.”

From your point of view, you can see Eddie rest his free hand on the table top, head falling forward as his eyes squeeze closed. His lips twist in a grimace, head rocking back and forth a few times, before he brings the receiver back up to his mouth.

“Memphis QZ is gone. I repeat, Memphis QZ is gone.”

This time you do hold your breath while you wait – heart pounding in your ears loud enough to drown out the static hum as you stare into the black coated machine. The silence stretches on way too long, the longest pause you’ve heard since the conversation began. You almost have to inhale just to keep from passing out, lungs groaning in protest, before the two of you hear a reply.

“Heard, will relay. Status on Flycatcher?”

A sigh out of his nose before he replies. “Headed your way, arrival unknown.”

Another, shorter pause. “Heard, will relay. Standby for 1500 report. Over and out.”

He sets the receiver down with a heavy hand, raises the other to flick the radio back off. Both hands on the table again, he exhales shakily as he hangs his head.

You don’t move or say a word until he does. Allowing him that moment to collect himself, if nothing else.

Slowly, he rolls his shoulders back to his full height, posture squaring off as he takes a step back from the table.

“Come on,” he requests softly, “let’s go clean up, change your bandages. Get something to eat.”

You follow him out of the barn, light flicking off behind you, across the red tinted dirt circle between the barn and the house, and into the shadows within.

August 24th, 2016 – Three Corners, Cherokee Nation, Oklahoma

Last night, Eddie showed you around a bit. They had an outdoor shower with a water heater, a working toilet and sinks, a small fridge, a wood stove. Electricity and hot water. And beds. Both of you would be able to get your own bed.

You’d awkwardly turned down his assistance on getting clean, insisting you’d be really careful with your arm. He let you go first – when you re-emerged from the wooden enclosure of the shower, there was a little bundle of clean clothes waiting for you. By the time you got inside, there was a small (but warm) meal prepared. He was already halfway done with his, and when he finished, he insisted on changing your bandages again despite your reassurance you could do it.

After making sure you were clean, bandaged, and fed, he told you where you could find a bed and went out to take his own shower. You washed the dishes as well as you could with one fully functioning hand and tucked yourself into bed before he even came back inside.

This domesticity felt unnerving. His care felt unnatural. It was different from the apartment in Memphis. This was the home of a family of four, with kids toys and art and pictures and everything. And, despite it only being the two of you, Eddie watching out for you, taking care of you, putting you first… It was overwhelming and uncomfortable and felt unsafe.

Somehow, laying alone in the dark child’s room, in clothes that weren’t yours and in the silence. It was worse than anything.

You couldn’t fall asleep until you heard Eddie come back inside and close the door to the room beside you.

When you wake up, there’s sunlight coming in through the opaque curtains, a soft yellow cast across the homemade quilt you had pulled up to your ears. As you slowly shift it down to your waist, dust starts to kick up and dance along the beams into the room. Making the blues and greens of the bedding and the child-drawn artwork look almost pastel. And while part of it was comforting, imagining a kid who still got to have a room like this – live a life like this – there were a lot of other feelings that came up. Feelings you weren’t ready to face this early in the morning.

Instead, you get up and get dressed to go find some water.

Your door is barely open an inch before you hear something going on in the kitchen, the scrap of wood against metal and the clink of a glass. Not sure if maybe the homeowners had returned while you were out, and you were now about to meet them, you walk as quietly as you can to the end of the hallway that leads to the rest of the house.

The only person you can see is Eddie with his back to you.

He’s standing in front of the wood stove in a tank top and sweatpants, bare feet on the uneven tile flooring, long hair down and haphazardly placed on either side of his shoulders. The scars along his arms are on show, allowing you a better glance as you slowly approach from behind. His right arm isn’t too bad, a vague slash mark here or there, along with a couple of black ink tattoos scattered across the skin. There’s a healed over bullet graze at the top of his right bicep, the skin indented and slightly puckered pink. Probably somewhat similar to how your own arm will heal.

His left has larger patches of scar tissue, a big section on his forearm and a few other spots as it goes up his arm. They almost look like burn scars – the skin damaged and discolored but healed over. It’s the same texture of the scar on his side you saw last week, also on the left. He must’ve been in some kind of accident with flames or maybe some kind of chemical. 

You wonder if he’d tell you what it was if you asked.

The closer you get, you can see there’s some small bowls on the counter beside him and one of them is stacked high with brown spotted eggs. He has a cast iron pan over the crackling fire and scraping at the yellow liquid inside it to scramble them.

Without otherwise announcing yourself, you ask him, “Are these fresh eggs?”

He nearly screams, wooden spatula going flying and almost losing the pan too as he jumps away from you. “Jesus Christ, Bambi,” he gasps, running a hand through his hair before dropping it on his heaving sternum, “Are you trying to scare me to death?”

“No,” but your mischievous smile heavily implies you’re not exactly upset about the outcome. “Where’d you get the eggs?”

He glares at you while shuffling back to the front of the stove. He still sounds a little out of breath when he replies, “Ama has a henhouse out back, takes care of them. Tries to keep them out of the garden.” He points toward another wooden bowl that has 2 small pears, some leaves of lettuce, and a single shoot of green onion.

“Holy shit.” The fresh, home grown food nearly brings tears to your eyes – brushing past his back to take one of the small, green pears and hold it up in the sunlight to examine it. “I mean the food, the animals, the water, the electricity… How do they keep it all going out here?”

“The reservation was already making attempts to be self-sustainable before the pandemic hit. Their own power grid, water collection, the works.” He continues to cook while he explains, scraping the bottom of the cast iron to keep the eggs from sticking as he watches it carefully. “After everything went to shit, they fast tracked it. Jeff and Ama were living in the city and moved back to her parents' place to help them. Her folks died a couple years ago so then it was just them and their two kids. Jeff is a mechanical engineer and Ama is a fuckin’ genius in general so they made this into the best compound someone could ask for in an apocalypse.”

Looking over the house, you couldn’t help but agree. The stable fencing, communication, their own food and water. Depending on how they sourced the power, they could probably stay out here for who knows how long and the only thing they might need to worry about is bandits. Even then, there’s not much around. A bandit group would have to be really lost to end up here.

“That’s… amazing. I honestly didn’t think it was possible to still be living like this. Anywhere.”

But then again, I thought that about Memphis too.

He hums an agreement as he scrapes the eggs out of the pan and onto two plates. “Yeah. I know they are still in touch with other families around. Maybe they are out helping one of them with something.” He nudges his elbow against your arm, pointing for you to grab the other bowl of greens and bring it over to the table with him. “There was a ton of feed in the henhouse, like they prepped to be gone for a little while.”

You follow his lead in setting the bowls on the circular table in the center of the room before taking a seat to his right. “Well that’s a good sign, isn’t it? That they were prepared to not be here?”

He hums as he settles into his chair, the wood groaning as he leans too far back in it. “I guess so. I just hope Will has something to tell us at noon.”

Laying out a piece of lettuce, he makes a sort of egg wrap with bits of green onion before taking a bite right out of his pear. “So Hawk’s Nest, that’s Will? He mans the radios out on the farm with Dustin?”

“Mhmm,” he confirms as he finishes chewing, eyes locked on his plate like he doesn’t know where to go next. “With Sally, apparently.”

Long fingers wrap around his wrap and bring it up to his mouth with a crunch, so you pick up a fork and start to spear into your own warm eggs. Unseasoned but still warm and fresh. A hundred times better than the powdered egg stuff they made back at Quantico. Even just having a warm meal settles you in a way you hadn’t anticipated, relaxing further into your seat as your eyes close.

When you open them again, you’re struck by the sight of Eddie. The sun coasts in through an uncurtained window – bathing him and the table in bright morning light. His slightly frizzy hair, greys visible, is pulled to one side, showing off the length of his neck and the broadness of his shoulders. The scruff along his jaw has only gotten thicker, salt and pepper across weathered skin, almost enough to hide the scar on his chin. There’s a tattoo of a dragon along his bicep, a slashed scar of white right through its abdomen, and a swarm of bats on his forearm. His hands are clean, maybe cleaner than you’ve ever seen them and you find yourself thinking that he looks good like this.

This is a different person from the Eddie you first met. The wolf in denim and leather who is intimidating, unapproachable, someone you wouldn’t want to get in a fight with. With the sharp glares beneath aviators and sharper remarks against anything you had to say. This is a man who has seen terrible things – done terrible things – and now gets to rest. A safe place where he can just live. Not be constantly fighting to survive.

If only he would sit around long enough to enjoy it.

The two of you finish your breakfast and clean up the dishes. Eddie roots through closets and cupboards until he finds a jacket that will fit you (since they tore yours apart to make a sling), a corduroy coat in a forest green that probably wouldn’t stand up well in the elements but keeps you warm nonetheless. He helps you slide it up one arm and hang it over your other shoulder. Your arm is still in your makeshift sling at his request, insisting it would be better to take it off in another day or two.

After that, he explains he’s going to go check the trap line Jeff normally has set up, see if there is anything caught so the two of you might be able to eat some fresh meat tonight. You offer to go with him, to try to help, but he’s quick to deny.

While he says something about your arm and wanting you to rest since it’s still healing, you get the feeling he just wants to be alone for a while. So you watch him re-emerge from one of the bedrooms down the hall in his jeans, boots, red and black tie dye shirt, and his leather jacket before walking out the door with a promise to be back before 3pm for Will’s call.

Leaving you to your own devices.

At first you snoop around the house, trying to bide time. Walk the walls like an art gallery – seeing old and faded photos of families, women in calico tear dresses and men in their ribbon shirts. Newer photos of people gathered in churches, an older man and his three kids all climbing on a pasture gate. 

Closer to the fridge, there is a set of three polaroid photos. The top is a family of four sitting on the porch of this house, a man and a woman sitting on the steps with a boy and a girl posing between them. The boy is older, looks almost 7, and the girl looks about 5, with his black pigtail braids draped over her shoulders. The other two are each centered on one of the kids; a shot of the boy with a stripe of grease on his cheek and holding some kind of contraption in his palms with a huge smile, the name ‘Ahuli’ written in cursive underneath, and a shot of the girl sitting on top of the father’s shoulders, her hair wild and windswept as she appears to scream out with laughter, the name ‘Tay’ written in cursive beneath.

This must be Jeff, Ama, and their kids. All living out here on this land. These were kids born after everything fell apart. A family created in utter tragedy. There’s something bittersweet about it all. These kids… This is the only world they know. A world ravaged by man eating man and fungus that takes over your body, pilots your muscles and tendons, and leaves you aware. Cities were destroyed and millions of people died and society collapsed. They don’t even really know it. They’ve probably been told, at least some of it. But they don’t have any idea of what it was before – don’t have anything to miss. This is what they have, have always had. A safe home with a happy family.

The chained creature roars in agony, jaws snapping at the bars like it will tear free and take out its anger on them, on their happiness. Roars for you to grab the polaroids and tear them to pieces, to destroy, to light fire to it all. Burn it to the ground.

You go for a walk.

Slip on your boots with some difficulty and just start walking. Past the outdoor shower, the light clucking of the henhouse behind, and out into the grass beyond. Going until you reach the edge of the fence line and then follow along it, looking out for anything that catches the eye. There are a few horses grazing on the property, a single cow with its calf in the acres beyond the fence. Birds flit by overhead and the drying grass shifts as small creatures scurry far away from you.

You’re not sure how long you walk but the sun beats down, along your shoulders and a sweat breaks out. The breeze keeps you from being miserable but you’re still definitely getting sunburnt along your cheekbones. You’d think after days and days of walking, you’d want to do anything but that. But this feels different. It’s peaceful and relaxing. You’re not on edge, listening to every sound and searching for any sign that something or someone is coming after you. Somehow, your body has gotten the message that you are safe (for the most part) within this chain link fence, allowing some portion of your guard down. So you walk and listen to the birds without constantly looking over your shoulder.

Somewhere toward the back acreage, you intercept Eddie on his way back to the house with a string connecting two dead animals hung over his shoulder. He looks surprised to see you but gives an awkward little wave, waiting along the fence until you get there. “Dinner?” You ask, free hand stuck in the pocket of your coat as you look over the furry animals hanging from him, one on his front and one on his back.

“Dinner,” he confirms with a small smile, adjusting the line holding the animals together before you set off back toward the house together. “I can skin ‘em easy enough, and make sure they’re cooked through, but can’t guarantee it’ll taste very good.”

“If you skin them, I can cook them. While I was snooping around the house, I found some bone broth and other stuff. Should be able to make something edible at least.”

His head tilts toward you, eyebrows raised slightly. “You know how to cook?”

“Yup,” you keep your eyes forward, across the waving prairie grass and toward the outcropping of trees that hides the house and barn. “My mom taught me. She used to work in the mess hall on the base.”

He audibly swallows beside you, a nervous pause before he asks, “When, uh… How long ago did she… pass?”

“Eight years, I think. 2008ish. I think it was summer.” Your voice remains surprisingly steady as you explain. “I still don’t even really know what happened. My dad just came home one day and told me she was gone. I was 17, old enough to be more aware of stuff, but it still felt like he was protecting me from something.” You kick at a stone that caught the tip of your toe in the tall grass, eyes on your dusty boots. “Guess now I’ll never know.”

You cross another 15 feet or so before he replies. “One of the shittier parts of keeping secrets. Once you’re gone, they’re gone too.”

You huff a small laugh, gazing ahead at the trees as you continue to inch closer. “He says as a man overflowing with secrets.”

“There’s a difference between not knowing someone and being ‘filled with’ secrets,” he points out, almost defensively.

“Oh yeah,” you roll your eyes, “because you’re an open book.”

He quiets down again, the silence growing more tense than before. When you finally glance over, you see him looking straight ahead, a muscle in his jaw rolling with tension. Despite your desire to say something else and lessen the sudden distance between you, you decide to let him sit in that. Stew in it even. Like maybe if you reflect that mirror right back at him, he’ll see something.

Maybe something will change for him. Even if you’re not going to be around to see it.

The rest of the walk is quiet as you pass back through the treeline. You follow Eddie into the barn, where he disappears through a door into the other half before reappearing sans animal carcases. The two of you settle in front of the radio again.

Will comes through at 3pm sharp with almost no news. No reply from Colorado about Memphis. No news about Jeff. The only thing he is able to tell you is that he will have more for you at 1300 tomorrow and he lets you know Max arrived at the farm early this morning, unharmed. It’s all in code, but you’re able to get the gist of it. When the radio clicks off, Eddie’s frustration boils over. He kicks hard at a metal can sitting on the ground, the side caving in before it goes sailing out the open door and bounces across the dirt drive of the house. You watch it roll to a stop before looking over at him, one hand on his hip and the other over his mouth as he stares at the object, the sun reflecting off the coating in a glare.

“I’m gonna go skin the animals.”

The door slams shut behind him.

You stare at the closed door for a few minutes before getting off the stool and heading back inside the house.

When you wake up on the couch a few hours later, the sun is even further toward the west. The light no longer shines into the windows of the front room, leaving it much darker than it had been when you and Eddie ate breakfast this morning. Rolling up to sit, you stretch overhead with one arm and a yawn before glaring down at the sling keeping your other arm captive. You’re well past tired of the limitation now and slip it over your head, tossing the fabric to the other end of the couch.

Extending your arm, there’s still some pain and discomfort, but as long as you don’t bring your arms above your head or lift too heavy with your bad arm, you’ll be fine without the sling. It is well past time you were able to use both hands again.

The heavy glance from Eddie when he slips back inside implies he disagrees, but it seems not enough to say anything.

Heavy footfall breaks up the silence until aluminum hits tile. “They’re cleaned. Are you still willing to cook?”

“Yeah, absolutely.” Padding across the room in your socks, you step right up next to him to peer into the container. Trying to ignore the way he shifts his shoulder back to make room for you at the counter. Tilting your head toward him, you’re closer than you thought when you add, “Thank you for doing that.”

He looks surprised by the proximity too – brown eyes even just a little bit wider as he scans your face. You can see the way his Adam's apple bobs up and down in a hard swallow. The words sound a bit caught in his throat when he replies, “Sure, no problem.”

Although he looks nervous, maybe even uncomfortable, with how close the two of you are standing, he still makes no effort to move away. Neither do you, although you do lower your face to look over the meat before you in an attempt to ease some of the tension.

If you didn’t know any better, the warmth to your side makes you think he drifted even closer when you stopped looking.

Softly, entirely too intimate compared to the standoffish man who slammed the door behind him mere hours ago, he asks, “Do you want help cooking? Or can I go take a shower before we eat?”

“Go shower.” He doesn’t move an inch. “Oh, actually,” you twist and your noses almost knock together, causing both of you to jerk back in shock. What in the hell is happening right now?

“Could you…” Your voice is unsteady, a bit breathless. “Would you light the stove before you go? I’ve never used one like this before.”

The corner of his mouth tilts up in a small smile before he drops down to his knees right there beside you. Steady hands reach in toward the wood burning stove as you avert your eyes, shifting out of his space and over toward the cabinets you scoped out earlier. Overwhelmed by his quick change in attitude, you busy yourself in preparation until he pushes himself up with a groan.

Seeking some normalcy, you sigh louder than necessary. “Sorry, shouldn’t have asked you to do that. Old knees and all.”

He huffs a laugh, hair shifting while he shakes his head in your periphery. “Careful, Bambi, or I’ll have to give you a taste of what these knees can do.”

A laugh bursts out of you before you can contain it, turning toward him again. “What the fuck does that even mean?”

His eyes narrow playfully, a hand raising in an accusatory point. “Better hope you never find out.” Raising your hands in surrender, you turn back to the counter before he offers one more, “Anything else before I go?”

“Nope, all good here. Thanks.”

He dips his head in acknowledgment before leaving you to your cooking.

As the door clicks shut behind him, you find yourself wondering which Eddie will he be when he gets back.

Evening of August 24th, 2016 – Three Corners, Cherokee Nation, Oklahoma

The chirp of crickets is nearly deafening out on the dusty porch now that the sun has sunk below the horizon. It echoes through the circular clearing of the drive – ricocheting off of thick foliage and the aluminum siding of the barn in a chorus of hissing. A cacophony of noise that drowns out everything but the creak of the rocking chair while it slowly shifts beneath you.

A knit blanket, softened with age, is draped across your lap, frayed edges rolling between your fingertips as you look out over the darkening landscape. The wind has softened from earlier today, meaning you don’t really need the blanket to combat the cold itself. But there’s something about curling up on the porch with a blanket that feels so… Novelty. Comforting.

Another thing you never thought you’d be able to do again.

Dinner with Eddie had been… Strange. He wasn’t quite the tease from when he brought back in the meat, but also wasn’t the grump you left in the barn. Somewhere in between – or maybe something else entirely.

His mood appeared to be wildly shifting by the hour and left you feeling unsure in how to act. While dinner itself had gone relatively easily, you couldn’t help being uneasy by what the next shift might bring.

After eating, he’d insisted on cleaning up. You didn’t fight him on it and made yourself scarce. Found your current blanket, bundled it up into your arms to keep it from dragging across the ground, and made your way to your current spot in the rapidly darkening dusk air. Taking a little while to breathe in fresh air and do your best to reach some sort of relaxed state.

You don’t get anywhere close before the metal hinge of the door behind you creaks open to announce your companion’s arrival.

“I come bearing gifts.”

A cool, glass bottle of liquid is set in your lap – two long fingers releasing either side of the neck before retreating out of view again. Twisting it toward you, you recognize the label of the familiar liquor.

“Where did you get this?”

Eddie drops into the rocking chair beside you with a sigh while he sets a flickering candle on the floor between you both before moving to untwist the top off his own bottle. “A lady does not reveal her secrets,” he murmurs before lifting the bottle to his lips and taking three long swigs. He hisses in through his teeth as it lowers, face contorting in a sort of pleasured pain before falling slack. “Fuck, that’s good.”

Curious if the label is true to the contents, you’re quick to follow - popping the top and bringing the cool glass mouth up to your lips in a more cautious sip than Eddie’s gulps. Sure enough, the liquor is strong and sharp as the burn invades your mouth before sliding down your throat. You groan slightly, not sure if it’s a good thing or not, as you lower the bottle again.

“That’s strong,” you cough slightly, face pulled back in a grimace. “Haven’t had any real shit in a long, long time.”

“Yeah, well.” He glances over at you, brown eyes warm and bright in the dancing flame between you, as the corner of his mouth tips up in a small smile. “Don’t get used to it, Bambi.”

“You sure they won’t miss these?” You ask him, curiously. Despite the burn, you bring the bottle up to your lips again, seeking the numbness that is sure to follow.

He takes another long chug, releasing his mouth with another hiss. “I stashed ‘em here. Guess I should feel lucky they didn’t drink them.”

“Guess so.”

Silence falls again. Or, what can be considered silence beyond the buzz of insects in the dark. You both continue to silently nurse your bottles – you more gently than him – as the red hues of the sun disappear into the navy blue blanket of stars.

When you glance over at Eddie, he has his head hanging back, the base of his skull resting on the back of the rocking chair, baring his throat to the night. He looks exhausted but at rest. Like the alcohol is finally lulling him into some semblance of ease. His legs are splayed wide with the bottle resting between them, hands loosely resting on his thighs. The salt and pepper scruff on his jaw grown thicker than when you’d first met him and his hair pulled back haphazardly.

It’s the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen him. Completely unguarded. Even with you right there beside him.

Which makes him breaking the silence first even more terrifying.

“I think I owe you an apology.”

You try not to tense too much in response, looking over at him again. His head is still facing up but his eyes are open now, trained on the stars above you both.

While you can think of a few things, you’re still unsure exactly what he might be referring to. “I feel like I might regret asking this but, for what?”

His hands shift in his lap, tensing into fists before relaxing again. Shoulders rising and falling in a heaving sigh, his eyes pinch closed again. “I haven’t exactly treated you fairly since we met. I…” He trails off, head slowly lulling forward to glance at you before sticking to the ground before him. He clears his throat before continuing again. “Your dad and I never liked each other very much, for a lot of reasons. The biggest one being how he treated Rob.”

You can’t help but cut him off there, confusion apparently in your face. “What do you mean how he treated Robin?”

Eyes shifting over to you nervously, he takes another swig before explaining. “I’m sure you know the story - your dad and Rob’s mom had her really young, didn’t know what they were doing, all that. You probably heard the sugarcoated version but your dad just kinda up and left them. Didn’t really call, definitely didn’t visit. Moved on… Started a new family.”

Your heart burns then, sorrow and guilt pulling you in different directions. A new family – your family. 

“Robin never blamed you, or your mom for that matter. She’s never had anything but good things to say about you.” He’s quick to add, making minimal eye contact with you as he continues to explain. “But I did. I was real protective of Rob around the time your dad came back around wanting to make amends. I remember how much it hurt her. And I think a part of me always blamed you for that.”

Definitely not what you were expecting, you don’t say another word, waiting to see if he’ll keep going. It’s a bit painful; knowing he disliked you for something that couldn’t have possibly been your fault. Almost like he hated you just for being born.

“Anyway, that wasn’t cool or fair of me. The fault was always with your dad and his choices. So… I’m sorry.”

While the sentiment is appreciated, it’s still hard to swallow. You counteract the choking feeling it leaves in your throat with another sip of hard liquor.

“Thanks for telling me.” You offer softly. While you might not be ready to forgive him or even to accept it, you’re still at least grateful to understand a little better why your relationship had seemed doomed from the start.

His chest rumbles in a hum of acknowledgment, turning his attention to his bottle again. You let that hang in the air for a little longer before you speak up again. “What were some of the other reasons?” You ask curiously, looking anywhere but his face. He mumbles a ‘huh?’, urging you to clarify. “You said there were a lot of reasons you and him didn’t like each other. What else?”

You see him grapple with the question, rolling it around in his mouth as he figures out how to chew it. The liquor has definitely loosened him, mentally and physically. Maybe you shouldn’t press for more info like this but… Maybe this is your only chance.

“He tracked me down a few years ago. 2011, I think. It was a week after… After my Uncle Wayne died.” His voice is thick with emotion now, his eyebrows drawn together in concentration as he remembers it. “He asked me to help him with something – something big. But I… We argued. Barely held back from punching him square in the jaw a couple times. He said a lot of shit about ‘expecting more from me’ as if he knew me at all,” he let out a bitter chuckle, his head shaking slightly.

“I was in a lot of pain,” he admits, slightly choked up. You’re shocked still, not sure how to handle this turn of events. Should I comfort him? Let him talk through it? Ask more questions? “I told him to go fuck himself and he called me a selfish bastard. And we kept our distance from each other after that. I’m sure he’s probably rolling in his grave right now knowing I’m one of the people escorting you around.” A huff of a laugh at that, bringing the bottle back up to his lips before his eyes widen and glance your direction. “Sorry.”

You swallow around the lump in your throat. “No, uh… Don’t worry about it.”

Suddenly feeling yourself scramble for something else to say or some way to keep the conversation going, you put your foot right in your mouth by asking, “What happened to your Uncle Wayne?”

He looks at you, shock and maybe even offense clear on his face, and you wince as you kick yourself mentally. What kind of question is that? What the fuck do you think happened to him, idiot –

“Cancer, actually.”

Not sure if you’re more shocked by that response or the fact that he actually answered, you focus in on his face now to make sure he knows he has your attention.

“He worked in a factory for years and years before everything fell apart and smoked a shit ton. Lungs started giving out a couple years after everything fell apart. Coughing blood, wheezin’, the whole thing. Wasn’t really much anyone could do, everything being like it is.” 

He pauses to take another long gulp of liquor, the points of his cheekbones tinged pink with it. Or maybe emotion, it’s hard to tell in the candlelight. “Did everything we could but he, uh… Decided he was ready. Said he didn’t wanna wait around for the day he tried to take a breath and couldn’t. So I helped him out to a church in a small town that’d already been picked clean. Held his hand while he said his prayers. Gave him a hug. Gave him a pistol.”

Your heart drops into your stomach, Eddie’s gaze far off. Reliving the moments in his head. “Went outside and shut the doors. Waited… waited until the shot went off.” His hand harshly clasps over his mouth as he leans forward, nearly knocking the bottle to the floor as he leans his face away. You can still see the reflection of the tears escaping his eyes.

The softest whisper you can muster, you twist your fists in the blanket in your lap. “Eddie… I’m so sorry.”

His face pinches tight, tears spilling out of his closed eyes, as he shakes off the feeling and rights himself again. “Better end than most people get nowadays,” he admits, voice rough and dismissive. “Least he got to decide on his own terms. Not everybody gets that chance.”

Pained by his dismissal but accepting this is how he needs it to be, you give a solemn nod. After Memphis, you’ve learned your lesson about pushing him.

“Haven’t talked about that in a long time,” he adds with an embarrassed laugh, rubbing his scruff with the palm of his hand. And while there are still tears in his eyes, he looks a little bit lighter. A little bit more free. Your mind flashes to the church in Memphis – Eddie staring up at the missing head of Jesus in reverence, a pistol strapped to his belt.

Searching for something.

You tip forward, the chair creaking as you rest your feet on the ground below you. He looks over at the noise, watching as you lift your bottle towards his in an offering.

“To doing things on your own terms,” you toast quietly, a small smile on your face.

He blinks at you a few times before a small smile tugs at his own face again. Eventually, the bottom edge of his bottle gently clinks against your own.

“To doing things on your own terms.”

August 25th, 2016 – Three Corners, Cherokee Nation, Oklahoma

It’s with a lot of difficulty that you blink your eyes open from a dead sleep – heavy lids and crusty corners protesting the smallest movement. Warmth surrounds you, coaxing you back to rest and away from the headache that is already starting to appear behind your eyes. It must be very early based on the blue toned light that comes in through the window, which you’re not even conscious enough to realize is not in the same spot as it was yesterday.

Barely aware of anything other than how comfortable you are right now and how much you have to pee, you groan softly before attempting to move.

You freeze up when there’s an answering groan from behind you and the weight around your waist tightens to pull you back in.

Shocked fully awake now, you take stock of your surroundings. You’re in a bed you’ve never seen before. There’s a half empty bottle of liquor on the floor beside you. Your pants are gone. And there’s a tattooed forearm wrapped tightly around your torso, belonging to the warm body lining your back. Hot air coasts along the back of your shoulders, the slightest hint of scruff on your skin, and the rhythmic rise and fall of his sleeping chest.

You’re in bed with Eddie. And you don’t remember how you got here.

Heart starting to pound in your chest, you try to calm yourself from spiraling with questions, many of them starting and ending with why am I not wearing pants–

He shifts behind you and you hold your breath, waiting to see if he’s waking up. You remember he drank a lot more than you so, with any luck, you’ll be able to extract yourself from this situation before anything too horribly awkward happens. When he falls still again, curled tight to the back of you, you cycle through your options.

First and worst, make a scene. Scramble out of the bed, shouting and hiding the fact that you’re half undressed, and mortify both of you in the process. Absolutely not.

Second, try to slowly and carefully remove yourself from his hold. Maybe you could replace yourself with a pillow or something, give him something else to hold onto. Or maybe just remove yourself and make a break for the door, hoping he doesn’t wake up in the 5 seconds between and realize what happened.

Third, accept this is your life now. After all, it’s really comfortable. He’s warm and holding you tight – comforting and safe. Feeling his breath across the back of your neck. You feel like you could drift right off again if not for the slight pressure of something against your lower back…

You need to get up. Now.

Like you’re the worst secret agent navigating the worst bank vault ever seen, you somehow manage to extract yourself from Eddie’s surprisingly tight grip. He moans in disapproval but remains asleep, bringing a pillow in to tuck against his chest in a poor replacement. If it wasn’t for the nearly empty bottle on his bedside table, this surely would’ve gone a whole lot worse.

Taking a few moments to admire his sleeping form in the early morning light – the crows feets beside his eyes only noticeable as tan lines, the harshly indented wrinkles between his brows smoothed over – you rush out of the room when he adjusts again just in case he’s waking up.

You make a pit stop in the room you stayed in the previous night, grabbing a pair of pants from the piles of clothes on the floor, and lock yourself in the bathroom.

After a quick wee, you appraise yourself in the mirror. Your hair is a mess. As messy as it normally gets with sleep, you tell yourself. You don’t have any hickies or other noticeable signs of something less “friendly” happening. In fact, it really just feels like you had the best sleep you’ve had in years, not including the rapidly progressing hangover you’re experiencing now. Still, you think back to last night, trying to remember how you might have ended up in Eddie’s bed.

After he told you about Wayne, the two of you ended up reminiscing on other people you’d both lost along the way. Your school friends, his band mates (other than Jeff), both your parents, a few of the friends he made in high school. A little bit of pondering where you both would be now if the world hadn’t gone to shit. He talked a little bit about Memphis and what he’d lost, which you listened to intently. Then… Nothing.

Resting a hand against your forehead as you stare at yourself in the mirror, you’re terrified to realize you can’t remember what happened between the two of you sitting on the porch and when you woke up in his arms this morning.

What the hell did you do?

-

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i bet you thought you'd seen the last of me!!!!! well guess what!!!! you haven't.

i obviously went a lot longer than i wanted before updating this but i have never, ever stopped thinking about it. i still have it all fleshed out in my head and i will finish it if it kills me. i appreciate your patience in the meantime.

and let me know what you think!! comments and reblogs mean the world <3

[juvenillia]

~ Death of Peace of Mind ~ 12: wait

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!reader

photo credits go to very talented @ave661

a/n: I am German so putting something of my native language in here feels so cool, really need to write more for König (when this series is over)

also I think it's quite funny how I believed that I'd never be able to write a full on fic and now we're here - thank you for sticking with me and story

CW/TW: mentions of loss, death, injuries, petnames, jealousy, guilt, angst, hurt/comfort, violence

wordcount: 2.9k

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The last days felt unbearable for everyone. Shortly after they arrived at the improvised base full of tents, the medics did everything to stabilize your state of condition. Ghost did literally bark at anyone who came too close to you, who didn't look like a specialist in medic care. As soon as your condition got a bit better, they flew you over the hq to initiate the needed surgery. Ghost leashed out as he got told that he wasn't allowed on the transport next to you. He had promised you and himself to not leave your side. But they had to wait to be brought to the base while you were long gone and on your way to the OR. Kyle and Johnny had to do their best to calm him. It was a hard mission, especially when they were on the edge as well.

Simon paced around the room the three men were meant to stay in. He couldn't stand still until he was able to see you again. Some nurse explained him, in a serious and nearly threatening tone, that he wasn't allowed around the infirmary before he didn't get his emotions under control. This was new for him, emotions were never something hard to handle, but you changed that. The guilt, fear, longing, desire, regret, anger, sadness. The list was long, but his nerves couldn't carry them. You made the border between Ghost and Simon melt. It made his hands tremble and his heart ache.

Nobody in this room dared to speak while waiting for news, not even Johnny tried to ease the mood. To occupied with what ifs. You only were part of this team for a short period of time, but it felt different. It felt like you were always a part of them.

Hours passed by without knowing anything. It ate them up. Johnny sat on a chair, watching Simon pace around the room. Not daring to approach him even the furthest. The only thing that was a distraction for a short time was a call with Price. Explaining the situation, they found themselves in. Kyle did the talking, while Johnny and Simon weren't able to. "Yes, sir. You're on speaker now.", he placed the phone on the table. Simon got closer, his feet tapping the ground nonstop, fidgeting with your blue box in his pocket. He didn't dare to let go. Johnny still seated at the table as well as Kyle, letting his leg bounce up and down. Desperately pushing his sweaty palms on his thighs, trying to steady them down. "Boys, listen. Skadi has been through worse. Way worse. She's gonna make it. I know what you're feeling, what you're thinking, but don't. It is no one's fault. You did what had to be done, and she'll be okay. Trust her and the medics.", Price voice was as calm and soft as ever. Johnny's leg stopped bouncing and even Simon lost a bit tension between his shoulder blades. They trusted you, still they were scared.

It took another hour before a young-looking soldier came to knock at their door. Ghost was opening it within seconds, staring at the small Private in front of him. Waiting wasn't something he was good at, not when it came to you. "Speak!", he ordered harshly, no need to mention that the poor guy was scared to bits. Kyle shoved Simon gently to the side, what earned him a deep growl. "Ignore the scary dog.", he exhaled nervous and looked as soft as possible to the young boy, who nodded hesitant. "Here to inform you, that Sergeant Quinn has made it through the surgery without any complications. She's been brought to room 317 for further medical treatment. She’s still unconscious, but visitors are allowed." Johnny nodded. "Thanks, dismissed."

Before Kyle and Johnny could even say something, Ghost started running through the hallways up to the infirmary. Ignoring any glances and shouting around him. His steps were fast and determined. His grip still tight around the blue box. "Lt!" Johnny had problems to keep up with him while Kyle didn't even try. He knew it was pointless. Simon only had one thing on his mind, seeing you. Making sure that he didn't lose you. Just when he stood in front of the door separating him from his desire, he stopped. Fear raising in his stomach, fear of the sight that would expect him inside. Johnny was the one placing a gentle hand on his arm. "C'mon, Lt.", he gently pushed the door open, and the three men entered. It was a casual hospital room. Bright whites around you, a common sickbed every one of them had seen plenty of times. What they didn't expect was the huge figure already seated at your side. Simon fists clenched. The fear replaced with fury. Who dared to take his place next to you? He wanted to yell at him, throw him out of the room. It was supposed to be his seat. The male shortly looked at them, before turning to your unconscious figure. "Your mates are here, Spatzl." [German equivalent to dovie, but with dialect], his voice was calm as he held your hand. "Who are you?", Ghost hissed while his jaw nearly locked in tension. He let go of the box in his pocket, too scared he would break it. He couldn't even focus on you. The stranger looked at them again and they were greeted with a faceless image. The loose mask covering everything besides those clear blue eyes. "Easy, big boy. I'm not your enemy.", he said calm with a chuckle. His eyes shut. Did he smile, did he yawn. Ghost couldn't tell. That's how people must feel approaching himself all the time. It was Johnny who stepped forward, cautious. "Yer the one that saved our bonnie.", Soap exclaimed a bit guarded. He heard his voice before, over the comms and the thick German accent was undeniable. "Gonna leave you to it, for now. See you later, mein Engel."[my angel], his bare and huge hand caressed your cheek before standing up. Johnny did swallow a lump, as he noticed how tall the man in front of them was. Ghost had his fists still clenched, and it got worse with every second. "And to answer your question. I'm König. When you're friends with her, than we should get along. But don't step the line.", he stated softly while slightly tilting his head down. His blue eyes met the dark ones of Ghost. A tension was created, laying thick in the air and everyone could feel it, you could cut it with a knife. They stared down each other. Their brows furrowed before König left the room with a satisfied giggle.

And it only got worse. Anytime Simon would pay you a visit, he would already be there. Seated at your bed, your hand in his. He wanted to shove him out of the room, tear him apart that he finally would stay away from you. He acted like he was someone really special. It made him sick. Even Johnny stopped the teasing and joking comments in Ghost's presence, he knew that Simon was at the edge of his limits. Why did this guy couldn't leave you alone? Johnny had to force Ghost to go to the base's gym with them. To blow off some steam, and anytime he threw his fists against the punchbag, he did image that it would be him. The thorn in his side.

Simon wasn't allowed to stay nonstop in your room while you were still unconscious, he only had a few hours per day to spent them in your presence and those few he had to share with Kyle, Johnny, and damn König. It pissed him off, the way that man was always there and pretending you were his property. Who did he think he is?!

He never said something though. Only throwing him death glares and hoping he would leave after some time. Kyle explained later that he was a colonel of KorTac, and they should better not try to pick a fight with him. Price left a note about it. The 141 and KorTac weren’t actually friends, so they should keep it at bay. That wouldn't end well for no parties. So, Ghost suppressed the urge to smash his head against the wall and tearing that ugly mask down that face. Anytime they were in a room together it was Lieutenant Ghost that stood next to your bed. Cold, distant, work brain on, but as soon as the Austrian left the room - what he gladly did to grant the 141 some peace -  Simon moved to your side. Taking your hands in his gloved ones, not averting his gaze from you. Not even for second. He didn't dare to look away, scared to miss something. A muffled groan, a twitch of your eyes or fingers. Anything that told him you were here with him. He didn't doubt that you weren't strong enough to recover, but Simon hated the waiting. He usually was patient, but not for you to wake up again. Even if the nurses told him that your conditions got better day by day, it wasn't enough for him. He needed you to open your eyes, to look at him again. To see him. To smile at him. He wanted to hear your voice again. Witnessing your laughter because of Johnny's stories. Listening of the joking arguments you and Kyle shared. Hearing you say his name again. God knows how much he wanted to hear that again. He needed it. He craved it. But he would wait, it was worth to wait for it. He knew it.

It was on the fifths day when he snapped. Johnny sat next to you at one side of the bed, while Simon on the other. Kyle next to the Scot, half asleep. Johnny told a story; he already had told you. Maybe he hoped that you'd wake up and scold him for telling the same story over and over again. Simon didn't care. His eyes lingered on you. Your usual stubbornness and strength smoothed out. Replaced with a weakness, a fragile figure he needed to protect at all costs. He stared at your face, your arms. Recognizing and memorizing every scar, dimple, freckle. Everything that made your face unique. He noticed a deep scar at your throat and some burned flesh at your right upper arm, it seemed bigger than the small spot that wasn't covered through the clothes they gave you. He took everything in and burned it in his brain. Scared that he could forget a small detail. You never talked about how you got the scars. That's something both of you wouldn't share. Stories too deep, too painful, but Simon hoped that one day, he could fight the urge to hide it. He wanted to share his story with you, he wanted you to see him as the person he was behind the mask. Behind Ghost. He made a promise to himself, that if you would let him, he wanted to tell you everything. Step by step. One thing at the right time. You already told him so much about yourself, now should be his turn.

Just in that moment the door opened, and the giant walked into the room. Simon immediately switched mentally, and Ghost let go of your hand. Staring at him through the mask. Why did he always had to interrupt your - his - peace. "Hallöchen.", [hi there], he chimed while moving to your side. Johnny stopped his story and looked at you, and then at Ghost. "Don't ya have more important things to do, colonel", he exhaled sharply while his eyes didn't move away from König's statue. He couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't handle how he regarded everything as a matter of course. "More important than meine Liebe, no I don't think so." [my love], he chuckled while looking down at you. His hands slowly making his way up to yours again. "Bloody ‘ell, stop touching her the whole time.", Ghost hissed. He didn't know in what relationship you two were, but he remembered that you had never mentioned him. You talked a lot about Randy and never ever about some jerk called König. Also, he did remember that one time when he tried to get his hand closer to yours, on the patio during one of your shared smokes, that you immediately pulled back and he retreated. He can't imagine that you would enjoy those hands all over you the whole time.

"Excuse me?", König stopped his movement and looked down at Ghost. "Ya heard me. Stop it." - "I told you don't step a line, big boy." König moved over where Ghost was seated and the later stood up. "Yer invadin' her space, 'nd stop callin' me that.", he snarled back. His accent grew thicker on his tongue as his anger rose. Staring in each other’s eyes while arguing about the situation. Johnny tried to calm both down, trying to talk them out, but the discussion only became more heated. Hissing, snarling at each other, mocking the opposite. Johnny was scared they could start a fist fight any second. "You don't even know her like I do." König's usual smooth tone completely gone and with that statement Ghost's patience was gone. He took a grip on the first thing reachable, his collar. "Enough!", it was Kyle who stood up now. His voice determined and rough. "Skadi needs rest, if you want to scream at each other like little kids do, do that somewhere else!", he looked furious at them and König nodded slowly, looking down at you. Ghost pulled his hands slowly back. "He's right. I'll come back later.", König left the room and let Ghost back who now had an argument with Soap.

Not so heated, no screaming at each other but still serious. Kyle shook his head while sitting down again. "We're their guests, I can't stand him either. Total arsehole. But for her sake, we need to pull ourselves together." - "I know.", Ghost knew all of that, but he couldn't bare it anymore. He couldn't work with that anymore. "Simon. If he hadn't been there...", Johnny's voice snapped him - Simon - back to the reality. It was rare that he used his first name, therefore it had quite an effect on him and the context even more. "Ya do not have to remind me." Simon's voice was calmer again, filled with guilt. His head hung low; his eyes pinned to his hands that nearly started a war. "Could you both shut up!", Kyle exhaled again, not daring to look at the two across form the bed. His eyes were pinned on you. "I can't understand what she's saying!"

With that both of them stopped immediately and turned their whole attention onto you. Your eyes were open only the slightest and your lips moved slowly, but no words escaped them. "Water, get her some water.", Johnny moved to get something to drink and a nurse while you tried the hardest to speak. Simon was too stunned, just starring at you, while Kyle took the word, "Calm down. We're all here. Don't push it too far. We're not going anywhere. " You hardly nodded in response and closed your eyes once more. Everything hurt, but seeing them around you, hearing their voices, it washed away some sorrows. You tried to move but were abruptly stopped by the jolting pain that came from your side. You wanted to take a grip on the wound that hurt, but the thing was, everything hurt. Even breathing sent jolts of pain through your body. Your mind was hazy, and you couldn’t remember a thing.  Simon stared down at you, completely overwhelmed about all the things he felt.

"Take it easy, Sergeant." A medic entered your room and shooed the men out of it.

From this moment, everything became easier. Especially for Simon. You woke up, you looked at him. You were okay. Still, you had a long way ahead, you slept almost all day. Giving your body the rest that was essential, but now that you were conscious, Simon could stay longer in your room. He sat by your side the whole time, not even daring to leave the room in case you needed something. In case you needed him, and oh lord he wished that you to need him. He placed the blue box next to you. In case you woke up and he couldn't be by your side. That you found something familiar next to you. Something that could provide you with some comfort. There were only short periods of time when you were awake, and in those you had to fight the immense pain, before your body was too exhausted and gave in, bringing you to sleep again. You still couldn’t move, speaking was hard. Simon would be by your side, telling you sweet nothings, little praises you couldn't even hear. Your head was still so hazy. But besides all the circumstances it felt like peace. Not even König could interrupt this now. To Simon's luck he was called in for an operation, that way he could spend the whole day at your side. Not Ghost.

taglist: open just lmk

@yyiikes @saffronimagines @originaldeerhottub @illuminwtesz @killergoddess97 @kaelaiscool @spiritndrain

[discar]

HZD Terraforming Base-001 Text Communications Network

Chapter 7 | Prev chapter | Next chapter Chapter Index

Marshall Kotallo: [DisapprovingDogDisapproves.png]

FlameHairSavior: Uh... what's that?

Marshall Kotallo: We have been having trouble expressing our emotions through text. However, Erend's incessant spamming of clips has reminded me that this not merely a text channel. We can use images to express ourselves.

ForgeLordAleMaster: WHAT'S SPAMMING?

Marshall Kotallo: To post, send, or otherwise display something repeatedly and annoyingly. I knew the Old Ones had to have a word for your behavior.

ForgeLordAleMaster: I TAKE OFFENSE TO THAT.

ForgeLordAleMaster: ...OKAY, NO, I GUESS IT'S FAIR.

FlameHairSavior: And the image you chose to demonstrate your emotions was... some sort of tall fox thing glaring at us?

β: dog specifically german shepherd one of the most common breeds for police for decades

FlameHairSavior: Oh, THAT'S a dog.

GranolaGirl: They are referenced quite often in the archives, but it took me quite some time to find an image. The ones I found all looked very different from each other and this one, though.

β: dogs were domesticated for thousands of years there were more recognized breeds than there were peopleto breed them

β: people to breed them

β: also that is an exagerration

β: exaggeration

β: many thousands if not millions of people bred dogs and there were anywhere from 200 to 500 recognized breeds depending on who was doing the counting

ForgeLordAleMaster: WHY DON'T WE HAVE ANY?

ADMIN [GAIA]: Most domesticated animal species were designated stage 2 organisms, intended to be re-introduced into the wild by humans operating the terraforming system with the ARTEMIS subfunction.

FlameHairSavior: Erend, you really need to read the intro packet GAIA gave you.

Marshall Kotallo: [DisapprovingDogDisapproves.png]

FlameHairSavior: Okay, I can see the value in using images now.

ForgeLordAleMaster: NO, I DID READ IT! BUT MOST STAGE 2 ANIMALS WERE REALLY BIG, RIGHT? LIKE THOSE BULLCOW THINGS. BUT DOGS ARE SMALL. I'VE SEEN BIGGER PIGS. SO WHY DIDN'T ARTEMIS INTRODUCE THEM ON ITS OWN?

FlameHairSavior: Oh. That's actually a good question.

HIMBO: You don't have to sound so suppressed.

ForgeLordAleMaster: THANK YOU.

ForgeLordAleMaster: WAIT, YOU MEANT SURPRISED, RIGHT?

HIMBO: Yes.

ForgeLordAleMaster: THEN THANK YOU.

ADMIN [GAIA]: Dogs, cats, and most other domesticated animal species were deemed to not be necessary to the initial creation of the biosphere. Neither dogs nor cats serve irreplaceable roles in the ecosystem, and they do not provide meat or any other animal product to humans.

β: both were domesticated for their services not their meat

β: dogs helped hunt and cats killed rats and pests

ADMIN [GAIA]: Correct. However, those are primarily beneficial to primitive, tribal societies. With the help of APOLLO, humanity should have been well into the modern age by the end of their first generation on the surface. Hunting dogs and mouser cats were not deemed a high priority.

HIMBO: Dogs can help hunt? That sounds useful.

ForgeLordAleMaster: AND YOU WOULDN'T BELIEVE HOW OFTEN I'VE HEARD AVAD COMPLAIN ABOUT RATS IN THE GRANARIES.

ADMIN [GAIA]: Unfortunately, by the time APOLLO was destroyed, all the stage 2 stocks were sealed away where my predecessor could not access them. Furthermore, Dr. Ronson believed that the possibility of bringing back dogs and cats would be an extra incentive for the new generation of humanity to do their duty to take control of the terraforming system and re-introduce stage 2 organisms.

Marshall Kotallo: Why would it be extra incentive if they were not expected to need to hunt or keep out rats?

ADMIN [GAIA]: I believe these clips might help illuminate the matter. Dr. Ronson was quite fond of them.

ADMIN [GAIA]: [TheGoodestBoy.mp9]

ADMIN [GAIA]: [MurderFluffPlaysWithString.mp9]

β: oh ive seen those

β: wait i had some on my old implant

β: [PuppiesFrolickingWithExtraFrolick.mp9]

β: [KittyCryingForMilk.mp9]

Zo: This is what Ted Faro stole from us?

ForgeLordAleMaster: I NEED TO FIND HIS GRAVE SO I CAN PISS ON IT.

Chapter 7 | Prev chapter | Next chapter Chapter Index

[weirdestbooks]

Secrecy and Deception Chapter 7

Rebuilding Europe (Wattpad | Ao3)

Table of Contents | Prev | Next

Maverick in this chapter is in reference to America. It was his human name in 1947 and James always refers to America by his human name.

Event: Truman Doctrine 

Location: Joint Session of Congress, Washington, District of Columbia, United States of America

Date: March 12, 1947

James was tired. He hated getting involved with Maverick’s complicated politics, but it was his job to ensure things ran smoothly with Maverick gone for the past few days. Luckily, DC was with him and could translate the speech into the language of politics all country people seemed to speak.

“The gravity of the situation which confronts the world today necessitates my appearance before a joint session of the Congress. The foreign policy and the national security of this country are involved,” President Truman said at the Joint Session of Congress. James tried his best to pay attention, as he knew this speech was necessary, and America would want a rundown of what President Truman said.

He started his speech by explaining how one aspect of the present situation concerned Greece and Turkey. President Truman explained that Greece needed financial and economic assistance and that preliminary reports said that assistance was imperative for Greece to survive as a free nation.

James knew that well. Greece has been speaking to Maverick when he can and asking for assistance. Greece seemed so scared about his chances of survival, which was reasonable, especially since, according to him, the Communist fighters had their own personification.

James was worried for Greece and didn’t want to see another nation fall under the Soviet Union’s control. He had witnessed and fought in America’s Civil War, and he knew that civil wars were bloody and horrific. He knew Greece had reason to be scared, and he was glad that Maverick was doing something to help instead of just sitting by and waiting for Greece to die.

“I think it’s cause he’s finally stopped ignoring everyone else.” Caleb pointed out.

President Truman then explained that he didn’t believe any American wanted to ignore the appeal. He described how Greece wasn’t rich and had suffered invasion and occupation since 1940.

James sighed. Greece was one example of a country still struggling because of the Second World War. James and his family were lucky to be on a different continent. It made it easier for them to stay out of wars and recover.

President Truman then talked about how the liberators of Greece had found that the Germans had destroyed all communications and transportation in Greece, as well as burned over a thousand villages. President Truman also explained that eighty-five percent of children had tuberculous and that livestock and draft animals had disappeared, with inflation wiping out all other savings.

James frowned. That was the fate of many of the countries occupied by Germany. Thankfully, that bastard’s gone, although James thinks he could speak for everyone when he says he wished that Germany suffered more when he died.

“Careful, Uncle. You keep up that attitude, and you’ll start thinking like a countryhuman before long.” Unorganized Territory joked.

“As a result of these tragic conditions, a militant minority, exploiting human want and misery, was able to create political chaos which, until now, has made economic recovery impossible.” President Truman said.

If Greece can’t recover, it will be more susceptible to awful people who made big promises. That’s what happened to Weimar, and it ultimately killed her.

Even if Greece’s problems were not the same, they were similar enough to concern James. Greece was…well, Greece didn’t know James existed, but James was a citizen of an allied country to Greece, and it was his duty to help.

President Truman then explained that Greece didn’t have the funds to import goods essential to bear subsistence and that, because of that, it could not make progress in reconstruction. He explained that financial and economic assistance was needed to resume imports and restore internal order and security.

James really hoped Congress agreed with this, especially since the Soviet Union and Yugoslavia were probably working against Greece and supporting the communist personification. 

“We don’t know that,” Rebecca pointed out. James suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, knowing it would look bad for Maverick. Sure, they didn’t know that, but it wouldn’t surprise James. Even though he loved his nieces and nephews and loved Maverick like a brother, he distrusted countries greatly. He spent too long around them not to. 

President Truman then told Congress about how the Greek Government had asked for the assistance of American administrators, economists, and technicians to ensure that any aid given would be used effectively to stabilize Greece’s economy and improve his public administration.

It seems Greece was very dedicated to getting help now, so once things improved, they would never get that bad again, at least. That’ll reassure Maverick’s people that any aid they give Greece will be put to good use. 

President Truman then began talking about how Communist terrorists threatened Greece’s life and how an UN-appointed commission was investigating the terrorists and their border violations between Greece, Albania, Bulgaria, and Yugoslavia.

The Soviet Union and his lackeys and puppets were causing a lot of trouble, and James didn’t think this would be the last time. James sighed. He knew the Soviet Union was trouble initially, but no one wanted to listen to him then.

President Truman then began talking about how the Greek Government could not cope with the situation, how the Greek army was small and poorly equipped, and how it badly needed supplies to restore order. He explained that Greece needed assistance to become a self-supporting democracy and that the United States must supply that assistance. President Truman explained that they had already given Greece types of relief and economic aid that had proven inadequate.

Greece had been telling Maverick that at every given opportunity. He was panicked and anxious. It hurt James to see how, even with the war over, people still suffered greatly because of it. He was glad they would do more—that they could do more.

President Truman explained that democratic Greece could not turn to other nations, as no one else could support them. Britain, which had been supporting Greece, had to stop providing aid because he was having his own financial issues.

Almost all nations involved in the Second World War were having financial issues. America didn’t because it had benefited economically from this war, especially since it had just started selling weapons.

James sighed. That’s why they needed to help Greece. They were the only nation that could afford to help, that could help.

“It’s our duty to help,” Caleb said wryly. 

President Truman explained that they considered help from the UN but that the situation was too urgent and that the UN was not in a position to help. The president also explained that it was necessary to note that the Greek Government wanted them to supervise the funds and help Greece improve his public administration and that all money used would be used to make Greece a self-supporting and healthy democracy.

Trust me, Mr. President. James thought, Greece will definitely be using any money and aid we give him well. He needs it.

President Truman explained that no government was perfect and that a virtue of democracy was that defects were visible and could be pointed out and corrected. The president explained that the government of Greece was not perfect, but they were elected fairly.

Who had a perfect government? Maybe Greece’s government wasn’t ideal, but his people picked it. The communist government had not. James knew the government was unwanted and would only lead to the misery of Greece’s people.

James didn’t want that to happen. Greece’s people had been through enough occupations and unwanted governments.

President Truman explained that the Greek Government had been operating in an atmosphere of chaos and extremism and had made mistakes. He explained that by extending aid, the USA would not condone everything the Greek government had done. The USA will condone extremism from the left and the right and will always advise tolerance.

But no one will practice it. Countries and humans all liked hating each other for the dumbest of reasons. James had seen it before, and he would surely see it again. There were reasonable reasons to hate each other, of course, but some of it was so idiotic that it made James wonder how many of these countries were supposed to be hundreds of years old.

President Truman then explained that Turkey also deserved their attention. He explained that the future of Turkey as an independent state was no less important to freedom-loving people than Greece's, even if the circumstances between the two countries were very different. The president explained that Turkey was spared the disasters Greece had and that during the war, the USA and the UK had given him material aid, but that he still needed support.

“Everyone is so broke right now. It’s like the Great Depression all over again.” Caleb groaned.

“Except we didn’t start it this time,” Rebecca said calmly.

President Truman explained that Turkey had sought financial assistance from the UK and the USA since the war to modernize effectively and maintain its national integrity. The president explained that preserving order in the Middle East depended on that integrity. The UK had informed them they could no longer help Turkey due to their own financial difficulties.

“We all saw how destroyed London was when we were there. I’m surprised he was giving aid for as long as he was.” Rebecca said, some sort of wishful hope in her voice. James sighed.

“Becca,” Caleb chided warningly.

“I know, I know. Let a girl dream,” she murmured. James would never understand Rebecca’s affection towards Britain. At least she realized that her former opinions were wrong and unrealistic, but she seemed to cling to some hope that Britain was the wonderful father and person she thought he was. 

In any case, Rebecca’s attitude towards Britain wasn’t important right now.

President Truman explained that just like Greece, Turkey can only get the aid he needs from the US, and they are the only country able to help. The president explained that he understood the implications of their extending aid and that he was prepared to discuss them with Congress. 

James knew the implications of their long policy of isolation ending, but he was okay with that. He'd rather help than bury his head in the sand.

President Truman explained that one objective of the US’s foreign policy was to create conditions for nations to create a way of life free from coercion. He explained that that was a fundamental issue with the wars with Germany and Japan, and victory was won over countries that sought to impose their will and way of life on other nations.

The Soviet Union seems to want to do this. They're a threat and a reasonably big one. The Soviet government influences Eastern and Central Europe, and who knows how much of its control it is forcing onto those countries. 

Especially in the Baltics. James needed to get his brother to make it official that they didn’t recognize the Soviet occupation of the Baltic states, and James needed to see if he could see them. James pushed that thought aside. Now wasn’t the time for thinking about the Baltics. That was for another time.

President Truman then explained that to ensure the peaceful development of nations, the US helped to establish the UN, which was designed to provide lasting freedom and independence for all members. President Truman then explained that these objectives would not be realized until they were willing to help free peoples maintain their institutions and national integrity against those who wish to impose totalitarian regimes. The president explains that those regimes undermine the foundations of international peace and the UN.

Germany, Japan, and Facist Italy were all totalitarian regimes that tried to destroy international peace. If they didn’t try to prevent those regimes from appearing again, they could have a Third or Fourth World War. Protecting other democracies from non-democracies was one of the best ways to prevent those regimes from coming about in the first place. They could only exist if they were given a suitable climate.

President Truman explained that many peoples of many countries have recently had totalitarian regimes unwillingly forced on them and that the US has protested against coercion and intimidation, in violation of the Yalta agreement, in Poland, Romania, and Bulgaria, and that similar developments were underway in other countries.

James scowled, the familiar feeling of worry growing in his stomach. He was worried about those countries, worried about whether or not they could control their minds and what may be happening to them. The Soviet Union was a threat to democracy. He was a threat to freedom-loving people. 

James’ family needed to limit his influence and protect others he threatened, such as Greece and Turkey.

President Truman explained that nearly every nation must choose between alternative ways of life at this moment and that the choice is often not a free one. The president explains that one way of life is based on the majority's will and is distinguished by free institutions, representative government, free elections, guarantees of individual liberty, freedom of speech and religion, and freedom from political oppression.

James hopes all countries will one day be able to experience this way of life, especially those who have never been allowed to. 

President Truman then explained that the second way of life is based on the will of a minority forced on the majority, one that relies on terror and oppression, controlling the press, manipulating elections, and suppressing personal freedoms.

That’s the kind of government Soviet had. And the type of government that started the Second World War. It was a kind of government that shouldn’t be allowed to exist. James didn’t want that kind of government to exist.

President Truman explained that he thought the US must support the attempts of free peoples to resist armed minorities and outside pressure. He believed the US must assist free peoples in working out their destinies and that their help could come primarily through economic and financial aid.

Supporting free people across the globe would be a lot of work, but it would be a noble goal, and James would be happy to try to accomplish it, no matter the workload.

“Just don’t overextend yourself. It won’t do anyone any good, especially with Dad’s lack of care for his own safety.” Unorganized Territory said.

President Truman then explained that the status quo was not sacred but that changes that violate the UN Charter through coercion or subterfuges like political infiltration could not be allowed. By helping free and independent nations maintain their own freedoms, the US would be implementing the principles of the UN Charter.

Especially since the governments of certain nations seem to ignore those principles when it fulfill their own goals, James thought, annoyed.

President Truman explained that it was necessary to glance at a map and realize how vital Greece's survival and integrity were to the broader situation. If Greece fell, the effects on Turkey would be severe, leading to confusion and disorder throughout the Middle East. It would also have a profound impact on European countries whose people were struggling to maintain their freedom and independence while healing from the war.

If Greece falls and becomes another country under the influence of the Soviet government, then who knows what country will fall next? Which country will become the next communist state? If it spread across Europe, then the Soviet Union would be the master of Europe and its colonies. It’s a slippery slope and a dangerous game.

Like most things involving countries.

“It’s too much to ask them to behave like humans for once,” Caleb sighed.

President Truman explained that it would be an unspeakable tragedy if those countries, which had struggled long and hard for freedom, lost it to a totalitarian government. He said it would be disastrous for them and the world and that neighboring peoples would be the first to see their freedom and independence undone.

That’s precisely what James was worried about. If democracy falls…there will be horrible consequences for all nations.

President Truman explained that if they failed to aid Greece and Turkey now, the effect would be far-reaching in both East and West and that they must take immediate action. President Truman then asked Congress to provide him with the authority to assist Greece and Turkey before requesting a sum of 400 million from the 350 million that he asked Congress to authorize to prevent starvation and suffering in countries devastated by the war.

That was a large sum of money, but it was money that Greece needed. They aren’t directly threatened by communism, not yet, in any case. But Greece is. He needs that money. 

President Truman also asked Congres to authorize sending American civilian and military personnel to Greece and Turkey, at the country’s request, to assist in reconstructing and supervising the use of the given aid. The president also recommended that the authority be provided to instruct and train select Turkish and Greek personnel. 

Although James wanted to help them both, he and Maverick couldn’t do everything for them. They would assist them, make sure they used it correctly, help them use it in a way that benefited them the most, and make sure their people could continue doing that without them. A nation that relies entirely on another country is not truly independent.

President Truman concluded his requests by asking Congress to provide authority permitting the speediest and most effective use of the funds. He said that if more funds were needed, he would not hesitate to bring the matter before Congress again, explaining that the Executive and Legislative branches had to work together.

“The branches working together? Good luck with that.” Caleb snarked, causing James to bite back a laugh.

President Truman explained that he would not recommend it except that the alternative was more serious, that the US contributed 341 billion to winning WW2, and that it was an investment in world peace and freedom. He explained that the assistance he requested was much less than that, and it was only common sense that the US needed to safeguard their investment and ensure it was not in vain.

If the Second World War was in vain…oh, James didn’t want to think about what it could mean for the world. It was time to be hopeful, to try and fix the world. Worrying about the possibility of it breaking wasn’t going to help.

President Truman explained that the seeds of totalitarian regimes were nurtured by misery and want. They spread and grew in poverty and strife, reaching their total growth when the hope of a people for a better future died. President Truman explained that they must keep that hope alive and that the free peoples of the world looked to them for support in maintaining their freedoms,

They would have to prevent strife and poverty in Europe. Oh, that’s going to be an absolute nightmare of a job.

“If we falter in our leadership, we may endanger the peace of the world -- and we shall surely endanger the welfare of our own nation. Great responsibilities have been placed upon us by the swift movement of events. I am confident that the Congress will face these responsibilities squarely.” President Truman finished. 

———————————

After waiting for the session of Congress to end, a period during which James might have fallen asleep, DC and he left the building, talking to each other about President Truman’s speech.

“Well, that was an interesting speech,” DC said.

“President Truman makes a good point, though. We need to support other nations, especially with the Soviet Union’s desire to gain control over more countries.” James said before yawning. DC shot him a concerned look.

“I wonder how much is him and how much is the government, Uncle James. You know the free will of countries only goes so far. You’re lucky in that regard.” Unorganized Territory said bitterly.

“You should get some sleep, Uncle James. More than the sleep you got in Congress. You haven’t been sleeping well ever since the war ended.” She said.

“I know, I know, I’m working on it. America can’t sleep, and the new stresses have made it harder, not to mention the old ones aren’t going away. Speaking of old problems, has anyone heard from Confederacy?” James asked.

“He saved Dad’s life in Okinawa.” DC reminded him. James sighed.

“I don’t trust him. There’s something off about it all. He’s a living ghost, and it would be better if he weren’t here to haunt us.” James explained.

“You’re really talking like a country now,” Unorganized Territory said.

“I’m not talking like a country, Nize. I’m talking like a concerned citizen and brother and uncle. That Confederate is only gonna cause problems.” James said. DC rolled her eyes.

“He’s not going to do anything stupid. We should be worried about real problems, like the Soviet Union, not your theories about the Confederacy being evil,” she said. James sighed again.

Country people were so prone to tunnel vision. James wished that, for once, they tried to see things like humans. He knew it was a fantastical wish, but it was a nice one. If they became tunnel-visioned in helping everyone else, they would no longer be able to help themselves.

Instead of voicing the idea he knew would fall on deaf ears, James decided to sink away from control to think, leaving Unorganized Territory to control their body.

Sometimes, he wished he could just be a normal human.

[albertbutyoucancallmebert]

@eyeballcommander

(prev) Keeping his (metaphorical) trap shut was a challenge that Peepers barely managed to pull it off. Even if Ai got him thinking about Teddy. Which got him thinking about how he had started to wonder if he was actually infiltrating then ever since he heard about his Glornist boyfriend. Peepers had started to idly kick his feet as he fingered his bedsheet. Proselytizion wasn’t enough to keep his mind occupied despite his best efforts. Watching something that he’d seen thousands of times before simply didn’t require enough mental energy. Naturally thinking of the possibility that one of his friends was a genuine Glornist reminded him of that shady shyster acting far too chummy with Hater. He squeezed his fists together before reminding himself to settle down. Maybe Hater was right about Peepers just not being able to stand him having other friends. Questionable attitude aside Percy did seem devoted him… Was this another Anderson situation where the enemy was all in his head? Did he… owe Percy an apology? Maybe even an attempt at making amends? When Bert pulled out his notebook Peepers leaned over his shoulder as much out of curiosity as desperately needing a distraction.

Unfortunately for Peepers, it was difficult to decipher what Bert wrote by simple observation. Not only did his handwriting look as if he’d never held a pen before, he also wrote in a mix of German and English. It often switched mid-sentence. 

Once Bert filled a page with notes, he blinked a few times. Wait, where was he again? He looked up at the TV, then at the door, then to his side, spotting the Commander. His proximity made Bert jump a bit. 

“O-oh! Commander! You invited me here to take a break and here I am thinking of work. My apologies.”

He tucked his notebook away.