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j0kers-light · 4 months

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Joker wanting batmans girl for a while and seducing her ;) Your blog is my happy place 💖

His Lighthouse: Giving Into Temptation (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

Giving into Temptation- Oneshot

Hey hi anon! 🖤✨

I'm so happy to hear my silly little blog is your happy place!! Oh this was a delight to write! Almost all of it was written on my phone at my desk!! A rarity for me since I tend to write exclusively on my👩🏾‍💻

Anyhoo! I took some creative liberties since you didn't specify if the seducing was reciprocated. 👀 hehe.. you gave me an idea and let got of the reigns.

I hope you enjoy anon! If not I can try again 😭😭😭

taglist:

@blackreaderatrisk @twinkledinkle @clemdango04 @l3ejm @tears-of-amber @what-an-angel @darthjokerisyourfather @thatsnoteii @dollster @cheetahspy @kaidennnnn @urdariingdoll @motivation-idontknowher @ins0mniac-whack @spaghettificationandpretzels @reneisance @alittlesmartcookie @ninacutebee16 @carydorse

Let me know if you wish to be added to the official His Lighthouse taglist! Be alerted with any oneshots and the main story updates! 🖤✨

In all fairness, good ol' Batsy should have hidden you better. If Joker could put two and two together, then honestly.. anyone could!

The lingering stares, the way Batman treated you after heroic saves, to video surveillance of the caped crusader entering your apartment at odd hours of the night..

You were Batman's secret lover and as such, an ideal target for his adversaries.

Joker squealed in delight when he got the final confirmation that you were Batman's girl. He couldn't wait to get his hands on you and bring the fearsome hero to his knees.

Love could make people do crazy things and Joker wanted to test that theory out on Batman.

Months of planning the perfect kidnapping was done in great detail and Joker only trusted himself to execute it. The planning involved closely monitoring you and getting even closer to learn your traits and habits.

Joker lived and breathed everything related to you to gather enough information to pull off this mission. He never calculated getting emotionally attached to you and that led to his own downfall.

He studied your daily routine until he could memorize it in his sleep. And he took great pride in knowing little details that you hardly knew about yourself. Joker knew what certain food you liked or which bouquet of flowers made you smile the brightest and unknowingly began pursuing you.

Whenever you had bad days at work, he would leave gifts at your front door with a little note:

"For you" with a crudely scribbled heart.

It was natural that you were hesitant to accept the offerings but eventually you chalked it up to being from Batman.

Joker hated that so he went out of his way to prove that it wasn't. He bought you personalized self care products and your favorite candy on days when Bats was absent yet you still assumed it was from your lover.

J wasn't sure when his ploy to kidnap you turned into courting you instead. It was a gradual shift with how quickly you sucked him into your world.

Suddenly it wasn't a burden but a pleasure to keep tabs on you. He wanted to see a smile on your face and be the cause behind it.

If you traveled via public transit, Joker would protect you during the commute. He'd take out your trash and leave subtle clues that your rent was due while you were at work. It took everything in him not to just pay it outright but in doing so, it would bring too much alarm to himself.

Joker hated it— but he had to care for you from afar. He provided for you far better than Batman did yet he got all the credit!

Joker was at his wits end but months of unsuccessfully wooing you were about to change.

You left your window open.

It wasn't a big deal, (it was Batman's entrance into your flat) but tonight it was well known that the bat was preoccupied.

Joker was skeptical as he settled into his normal spot to monitor you. Only you surprised him again by going off schedule.

On Thursdays, dinner was done around seven and you either took a shower or a very looooong bath which ended roughly around nine. Your valued beauty sleep and strived to be in bed around ten if Bats didn't stop by.

Just thinking about what the two of you did together made Joker's blood boil. Bats indeed was a lucky man.

All jealousy aside.. The bee shaped night light that Joker gifted you casted silhouettes of your supple form as you moved around the apartment, just like the busy bee he named you after.

It didn't matter what time of the day it was, you were always up doing something. Tonight, you completely deviated from your schedule and skipped a bath to prepare for bed early.

By no means was Joker a gentleman however he found himself looking away when you walked by the window, removing your shirt. Another reason why he hated Batman: you were absolutely stunning and confident enough to strip out in the open— even if you were in the privacy of your own home.

Normally Joker watched you through the curtains but tonight you unknowingly gave him a front row seat to the best show in the world. And when you bent over to take off your pants, Joker couldn't bear it anymore.

He was blinded by your beauty and honestly it felt like he was invading your privacy; as if the months of stalking you wasn't the exact same thing.

He counted to two hundred and opened his eyes. Good. You were securing your hair for bed— wearing the most beautiful lingerie set Joker had ever seen.

His heart stopped as you left the bee light on and slipped underneath the covers.

Joker didn't come back to your apartment for a few days after that peepshow. One, because he felt guilty for staring, and two, because Batman was back.

Batman threw a wrench in Joker's surveillance routine for a full week. Joker didn't realize just how much he looked forward to being around you until he wasn't.

J spent his downtime ordering his gang members around and committing other crimes while trying his hardest not to think about you.

You and your gorgeous smile, the way you parted your hair so it fell over your eyes, (they were the shiniest gems in the world in his opinion) to the sound of your voice as you sang along to music, down to the intricate tattoo that curved up your hip that J so desperately wanted to trace with his tongue..

Oh no.

He was thinking way too deep here. You were a target! Joker would use you to break the Bat once and for all. He had a goal and it echoed in his mind quite clearly.

Break the Bat. Use you to break the Bat. Use you.. to.. break... well well well. Suddenly lightbulbs went off in Joker's head. He could have his cake and eat it too.

Joker ensured a big crime halfway across the city distracted Batman from visiting you and once the coast was clear, he took up his vigil. Nothing had changed but you foolishly left your window open again. It's like you wanted someone to kill you in your sleep.

That could be arranged.

It was Friday night and you normally stayed indoors either to binge watch a show or work on your laptop in the living room all night.

You did neither. Joker concluded that you weren't home after a quick scan. It was the green light for him to enter and check on his internal systems.

He planted a mic and a motion detector in your living room but they hadn't picked up any readings for quite some time. He feared Batman may have found it or that it was damaged somehow.

Thankfully your apartment has access to the fire escape so Joker could hop in straight into your living room with no issues. Your flat was dark and quiet so he moved in a lax manner to check on his equipment when he abruptly stopped.

Down the hall, your bedroom door was cracked open. He didn't want to believe what he thought he heard yet it was undeniable.

A soft, but audible, moan.

He wanted to hear it again. Joker didn't know his feet carried him to your room until you shrieked in alarm when the door creaked open.

"Ah! Um.. B-Bats? Is that you?" You were about to turn on a top light when Joker rushed over to stop you.

His hands were freezing cold especially with the leather gloves he wore. You were used to the Kevlar material of the Batsuit being warm and rigid on your skin, not cold. You flinched back because of it.

"Your hands are ice! I thought you said the suit has an inner warming system? Bats? Are you still there?"

You were naturally curious. Joker had only seconds before that curiosity got the better of you and you investigated further. He couldn't talk and give away that he wasn't your caped lover, so he didn't risk replying.

Joker just climbed in the bed behind you.

"W-Wait! Wait!" But it was too late. Joker was already flush with your body under the covers and he was in heaven.

Your soft curves were right there for the taking and Joker's hands shook with the need to caress them. For now his hands hovered an inch above your skin, frozen in place.

You heard a shaky sigh behind you and it wasn't the deep modulated one that the cowl normally created.

Something wasn't right but you didn't want to tip the stranger off that you were onto them. Whoever this was, they nuzzled their nose into your neck and the sensation made you shiver.

Why did it feel so good?

"Um.. I wasn't expecting you to visit t-tonight. Can you give me a minute to, ah! C-Cold!"

Joker lost the fight and rested his glove clad hands on your heated skin. It was slick with sweat and he briefly wondered if you were hot from a fever. It would explain the moan he heard. What if you were in pain?

Joker gently shushed you as he used his cold hands to try and cool you down; however, they did more harm than good.

You began to squirm as Joker's hands roamed your body. Then he heard that sweet melody again: your stifled whine. He wanted to hear it unobstructed so he rubbed your lower stomach as he brushed his lips against your neck.

"Ngh.. uhh um.. I-I thought you didn't lik— ah!"

Another hush entered your ears as Joker finally gained the courage to move his fingers in between your thighs. And then he discovered why you were soooo hot. He scoffed and rewarded you with a proper kiss to your neck.

You were absolutely soaked.

His busy bee was busy touching herself when he snuck in. How cute.

You clawed at Joker's wrist but you didn't say anything to stop him. All that fell from your lips were moans and whimpers. He loved each and every one of them. You rolled your head further back into the pillows and Joker followed your retreat to sample the taste of your skin.

He would definitely leave hickeys but neither of you cared at the moment. Right now, Joker's fingers rubbed perfect little circles on your clit while his other hand snaked around to pinch your neglected nipples. It was thrilling to allow a complete stranger to touch you. It made you sob in pleasure.

The closer you climbed, the more your body bucked in Joker's arms. He tried his best not to blow his cover with any form of communication.

And it was by far the hardest thing he ever had to do.

He knew you were right there, teetering on the edge of bliss. He wanted nothing more to shower you with the praises you needed to get off.

All Joker could do was hum and hope you followed his nonverbal cues. And because you were such a good girl, you did.

The dam finally broke with a broken plea spilling from your lips. Joker bit his own when your juices pooled in his palm and soiled the bed sheets.

He didn't stop rubbing your clit until you meekly cried, too sensitive. But the sound of your sloppy pussy just called him to do the right thing. You needed more attention.

Joker rolled you onto your stomach and the motion startled you out of your afterglow. Well that, and something was currently poking you in the lower back.

This wasn't something Batman would do. Sure he manhandled you quite a bit, (he remained in his suit ninety percent of the time during his nightly visits) but he was never like this.

Absolutely nothing was wrong with this level of passion, in fact you craved it, although it didn't feel right.

Either something was wrong with Batman or your suspicions were correct that it wasn't him. If not, then you had a good guess on who it was.

He wasn't as stealthy as he thought.

You turnt your head to catch a glimpse in the mirror. Even though it was pitch black in your bedroom, the moonlight worked in your favor to identify the man hovering above you. What you saw was enough to make your worst fears come to life.

You weren't stupid. Someone other than Batman was watching you these past few months. The uneasy feeling of being followed, things in your apartment not being where you left it, and the most incriminating evidence— finding a hidden mic in your living room led you to your hypothesis.

You were being watched by someone dangerous and the flowers and other pretty gifts couldn't gloss over that fact.

The smart thing to do was confront Batman about it. It could actually be his equipment but there was no reason for him to spy on you.

Which led you to believe that it wasn't Bats. In that case you decided not to tell him. You were just a booty call; he wasn't responsible for your safety.

This was a problem you could handle on your own and you would start troubleshooting it right now.

"Um c-condoms are in the second drawer." You arched your back and Joker's gaze dropped down to admire it.

He hesitated and the silence made you fess up.

"I-I know who you are. I don't know much about Batman.. um he and I aren't really that close. So I'm afraid I won't be the best hostage if you decide to um, kidnap me." You paused to laugh but it lacked mirth. "I doubt he'd come rescue me anyway."

Joker was speechless. What man in their right mind wouldn't come rescue you?! He just couldn't wrap his head around the insanity of it.

You gasped when Joker flipped you back over to face him. In the dark, the Prince of Crime hovered above you looking absolutely furious.

But not toward you. He caressed your cheek with the back of his hand and spoke for the first time.

Hearing Joker on the news was one thing. His voice was designed to instill fear in the hearts of many, yet in this intimate little bubble within your bedroom, his voice was liquid honey to your ears.

"BaT-mannn is a fool. The most uhh, precious thing in the worldd is right here.. and he refuses to protect it."

He traced his fingers from your temple down to your trembling lips. "Tell me little bee. Does he treat ya right? And. Don't. Lie."

Joker bent down to continue marking your neck. You jumped and rested your hands upon his shoulders, trying to drum up the right response.

Could you really tell your lover's sworn enemy that you weren't happy? Sure Batman was an experienced lover— he brought a sense of thrill into your bed, but once he was done, that was it.

Batman was too busy for proper affection. He was always on the go and oftentimes your time with him was interrupted by crimes in the area.

Your 'relationship' with Batman was a fleeting one. He kept his cowl on and you didn't ask any unnecessary questions.

You knew he had other lovers but when he slipped through your window, he was yours— if only for a few hours.

Was that enough? No. You craved for something that you'll never have so when the random flowers and gifts appeared in your apartment, you were optimistic.

You felt desired again! What hopeless romantic wouldn't ignore the red flags?

So what if The Joker stalked you for months? It was attention that you didn't have before. He cared for you more than Batman did and proved to be a better lover too. The little things that Joker did added up far greater than Batman's sporadic moments of affection. Could you even compare the two to begin with?

It was wrong to betray your lover but since when did Batman deserve that much respect?

Joker was waiting on an answer and he wasn't idle.

His lips had yet to cease their exploration of your skin and his hands had a mind of its own, molding your body like clay. Your first orgasm was still fresh on your mind and it had you thinking.

Joker made you cum with just his fingers. You wondered what else he could do, so you whispered your answer into Joker's ear.

"No? Whaddya meannn no? Mmm, if I had ya.. you'd be spoiled rotten. Would ya like that Y/n?"

He emphasized your name with a roll of his hips and your body automatically relaxed to let him in. Joker rocked his hips into yours while sucking on your neck. His dick was constantly rubbing against your folds and the slick sound of it echoed throughout the room. The indirect contact was driving you insane.

Yes was the only word you can say and you repeated it like a mantra.

"Hush, honey bee. I got ya." Joker groaned out loud, causing you to shiver in delight.

He had no business sounding like that and he knew the effect it had on you because he didn't stop. There was no point in being quiet anymore so Joker let all his previous thoughts bubble to the surface.

"F__k, I wanna taste ya! I knooooow you'll taste like honey. Mm my little bee.. always working. Want me to take care of you for a change? You need a break, don'tcha doll?"

He sat up and began fumbling with his belt. You rose to help but Joker smacked your hand away.

"Aht aht, you don't have to do a thing... well maybe just one. Touch yourself. Get nice 'n wet for me." Joker smiled when you licked your fingers and slid them down your body.

You were too quick to action and it jogged Joker's memory to how all of this started.

"Is thaT what you were doing when I came in? Hiding under the covers rubbing one out? Oh you poor poor thing. Does he even try to get you off?"

Your finger stilled on your clit. The answer was written all over your face.

Joker had removed his shirt and slacks but glanced up when you abruptly stopped. It was obvious to him what was going on.

"It's all about him, isn't it? C'mere."

Joker met you halfway and after a moment of hesitation, he kissed you. It was better than what you expected. The bumps and ridges of his scars added a new dimension to the kiss and you couldn't ignore how he tasted.

Smokey yet sugary sweet, it was a combination you could get addicted to and it was evident in the way you dragged Joker down to lie on top of you, wanting more.

He didn't complain and moaned through the kiss as his skin met yours. You were hotter than before and willing to share that warmth as you wrapped your legs around Joker's waist.

Your vision wasn't that great in the dark but you heard Joker reach over and fumble inside your drawer for a condom. You honestly thought he'd go without it due to his nature but he surprised you yet again.

A shame you didn't get to see Joker in the nude. Perhaps he and Batman were alike in that regard: they both kept to the shadows.

"Don't think bout anyyyy thing else mkay? Just.. uh lie back and feel.. f__k! You feel so good!!" In the middle of reassuring you, Joker had begun pushing his cock inside of you.

Your jaw dropped in shock at the overwhelming sensation and with Joker's weight pining you to the mattress, you clawed his back trying to escape.

Joker hissed from the sting, "Take it honey bee, you got it!"

But did you really? Just when you thought you couldn't take any more dick, Joker came to a stop, nestled deep inside of you. The stretch alone took your breath away.

You felt horrible for comparing the two enemies, but Joker was far better.

He pulsed and throbbed within which massaged your inner walls and he kept you buzzing with arousal by kissing and biting your neck.

Joker's hands, now rid of gloves, were like a hot knife cutting through your curves and kneading you into submission. He explored your most sensitive areas and created new ones with ease. Joker had yet to move and you were already nearing your climax.

Was this how sex was supposed to feel? If so, you were hooked.

"J-Joker... please. I-I need you to move, please."

He groaned what sounded like a "Yes ma'am." before pulling out, only to snap right back into place, harder than before.

Your sudden shriek had him smiling in your neck.

"Thereeee ya go doll. That'sss how it's done." He set an even pace, thrusting deep into your pussy to make you feel amazing. A quick glance to his right told him he was doing a thorough job.

Your beautiful smile was everything to Joker. He made you happy, no one else and with that accomplishment, Joker simply let go.

He grabbed onto your hips and never stopped thrusting into you. Even when the bed started to creak or when his grip on you became too tight– he didn't let up. Joker pounded in as deep as possible so all you could think about was dick. It was him making you go crazy stupid, no one else. You were moaning nonsense for only Joker to hear.

And it only fueled him to give it to you harder. "Ahh I'm sorry honey bee, I don't speak slut. What. Was. That?"

You pushed Joker's stomach as tears fell from your eyes.

You were having a sensory overload all thanks to Joker and his soft dom behavior. In one minute he would lick your tears away and the next swear under your breath at how good you were for him. Now he smiled like a wolf, expecting a coherent sentence from you.

Despite his cruel words, you saw the genuine devotion and concern Joker tried to hide. He let go of your hips to cradle your head as his thrusts into your pussy threatened to bang your head against your headboard.

His unnatural green eyes glowed in the darkness and you clung to them like a lifeline.

"I.... I-I think I'm gonna.." You choked out. Joker grinned again and slowed down his brutal pace to agonizing drawl.

"Yeah? You're gonna cum all over my cock? Do it then, doll. It's okay."

He growled when your inner muscles clenched around him. As if it were possible for you to get any tighter. You were killing him. Joker only thought it fair to return the sentiment.

Your eyes rolled back and he laughed before helping you tumble further over the cliff.

"Yeahhhh.... Like that. Just.. like that honey bee. Ah it feels too good doesn't it?" His hips picked up the pace thus prolonging your orgasm against your will. You hoped and prayed that your neighbors weren't home to call the police with how loud you were screaming.

I mean a murder was being committed. Your pussy didn't stand a chance against Joker.

And he was the most cockiest lover you ever bedded.

"Hehe! I bet Batsy doesn't hit it.. ahh, l-like this, huh? Let it all out sweetheart, give into temptation. I got ya. I..." Joker shuddered once before all of his weight fell onto you.

It was welcomed, for his helpless moans in your ear gave you copious amounts of confidence.

He was emptying his load into the rubber but you could feel the intense warmth with each spurt. Your world was hazy but you were slowly coming back down. Joker didn't mind the tight embrace you trapped him in, since he found himself never wanting to leave anyways.

However, duty called. Joker sighed before detaching himself and leaving the bed– and you quickly protested.

"W-Where you go? Don't."

Joker smirked at your jumbled sentence but tossed his used rubber in the wastebasket. While was up, he moseyed on over to your en-suite bath to run some water.

Although he was a psychopath without a soul, aftercare was still important. He doubted Batman offered you that courtesy so he strived to one up his enemy in every way.

You tried sitting up but you found yourself sore and missing Joker's warmth. It wasn't the best logic to have but like an addict, you were fixated on your newfound high and wanted more.

Joker emerged from your bathroom with a washcloth and slapped your thigh to halt your movements.

"Stop moving, ya busy bee. Lemme me take care of you another way hmm?" You nodded warily and it was Joker's cue to begin. He took great care to wipe you clean and finished by leaving a wet kiss below your naval.

You jumped at the silly contact. Joker's mood was so unpredictable, you couldn't keep up. You didn't know what else to say but, "Um t-thanks."

He shrugged as he toed your bee motif night light on. Then you got to see The Joker in all his glory.

His signature green hair was askew in sexy curls, whereas his clown makeup was smudged beyond recognition. You hated to see the mess it left behind on your skin.

He was slipping into his boxers when you propped up on your elbows. "What now?"

Joker tossed you a bemused grin. Bats really did a number on you psychologically.

Did the caped crusader really bust a nut and dip without any proper goodbye? Joker made a note to scold the hero about his manners (or the lack thereof) the next time they butted heads.

But first Joker had to calm your fears. He didn't plan on staying for long but one look into your watery eyes and seeing your pouty lower lip wobble, had him making new plans.

And they all involved including you into his life.

"Now... I'll get ya some water and a uh, snack, so ya don't get de-hy-drate-ed. You.. should use the little ladies room while I ponder if I really wanna kidnap ya or not. After sampling a pussy like that.. d__n, I can't just leave! No, nooo, no.. I thinK.. I want you all. For. Myself. In fact, I think I will. You're mine now."

Joker ended his declaration by kneeling on the bed with his lips brushing up against yours in a mock kiss.

And just like a lawn chair, you folded.

Your eyes fluttered closed assuming that Joker was gonna kiss you properly, but your eyes flew back open when you heard him heading out the bedroom instead.

"Go use the bathroom. I'll be back with some uhh fruit snacks annnnnd for round tw~oooo!!"

Round two? So he was serious just now?! Just what had you gotten yourself into?

#thanks anon!#thanks for the ask!#ledger joker x reader #ledger joker #heath joker #dark knight joker #joker x y/n #joker x reader #reader insert #black!fem!reader #cross posted on ao3 #cross posted on wattpad #romance #unrequited love #joker is down bad for once #his lighthouse

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jinmukangwrites · 9 months

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weep little lion man (6/14)

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Fandom: Jedi: Fallen Order / Survivor Rating: T Warnings: N/A Ao3 Notes: still playing upload catch up, truly didn't mean to fall behind from uploading to Tumblr. There's one more chapter to upload after this! I update the fic every Thursday on Ao3, and I'm hopeful to get back on track for Tumblr as well :3

Summary: After defeating Dagan Gera for a third and final time, the Compass ends up in Bode's hands without a scratch. He could go back to Jedha with Cal... but he's holding what he wants. He doesn't see the point in pretending any longer. He makes a split-second decision. Or: Bode's betrayal goes a bit differently.

~°~

When Bode wakes, it's to pure peace.

Peace that he hasn't felt in a long, long, time.

His daughter, his sun, his moon, his stars, sleeps against his side, hair a mess, a soft smile on her peaceful face. It takes every ounce of strength Bode has to consider leaving; to stand up and let time move forward. If he's had his way, it would be just like this, for the rest of his life.

But he has work to do.

Slowly and carefully, he inches out of the bed. Kata mumbles and shifts, not waking, thank the stars. She deserves some rest. She can sleep in every day for the rest of her life.

He quickly changes into a new pair of clothes, and belts his holsters onto his body in the usual places. He checks over his blasters before putting them in place, pausing when he notices a third blaster that no longer belongs to him.

He should return it to Cal.

He can't help but feel happy at the thought of having an excuse to see Cal. Surely, today will go better than yesterday. Time and sleep could fix most anything, all Cal needed was to adjust. Surely he must realize how unhappy and unsafe he was while trying to one-man army the Empire. Their little spat last night, and the cold argument hours before that should be clearer now to the both of them.

He sneaks out of Kata's chosen bedroom, looking up and down the corridor and frowning when he realizes he doesn't exactly know where Cal had settled in for the night. He goes further down the corridor, checking the empty rooms as he goes, until he eventually finds a room which's door catches on the duffle Bode had given Cal.

He sighs in relief, opening the door further, but frowning when the room itself looks entirely untouched; not a single piece of dust disturbed.

He exits the bedroom, standing at the end of the corridor at a loss. Where else could Cal be, if not in one of these rooms?

Memories of the argument last night flutters into the forefront of his mind and he curses. He let Cal rile him up, get him angry, and Bode said things he shouldn't have. He can't count the amount of times he'd go to check on Cal back at Koboh just to find his bedroom empty and the kid turning out to be scaling cliffs and taming wild animals while under the moonlight. Cal doesn't sleep, especially if he's emotionally compromised.

He's outside.

And he's been outside all night.

He stuffs Cal's blaster into his belt and storms out of the room.

-o-o-o-o-

When Cal wakes, he wakes slowly. His body has arranged itself into something somewhat comfortable on cool ground, and the morning weather is perfectly decent; not too hot, not too cold. He opens his eyes slightly, thankfully the cliff had casted him in a shadow, so it's not too bright to look around.

He doesn't move quite yet. There's something foreboding about the thought of moving so soon.

He can feel his body, no problem. He doesn't feel injured; just majorly sore in a way that feels comforting and familiar instead of the soreness he had been suffering the day before. Nothing feels pulled, or torn, or punctured.

But he still doesn't move.

Subconsciously, he knows something is wrong. He knows that the second he stretches his legs and moves himself up so he's sitting, the wrongness will reveal itself. It's a terrifying peace before the storm; like sitting in an open field and watching a thunderstorm slowly approach. The sun still shines from behind, and the breeze is still friendly. Yet, that storm will arrive, and it'll last days, and the simple peaceful times will be a lost memory.

He slowly begins to realize what's waiting for him; it's lurking, eagerly waiting for his brain to turn on for it to pounce. He doesn't regret coming out last night, but he begins to regret sleeping out last night while in the chill, covered in sweat.

So he savors this peace for a little while, cursing himself for only making things harder.

Once the shadow of the cliff moves a little bit, and the position he's laying carefully unmoving in starts to become uncomfortable, he finally gives in.

He places his hands under his elbows and lifts himself up. His knee protests in still healing anger, but that's not what has him groaning.

It's the pounding in his skull, a stinging at the back of his throat, the blocked airways of his nostrils that he knows won't fully clear even if he found something to blow his nose with.

Great. He's caught a cold.

It's not bad, nothing he can't deal with right now. His immune system is practically a solid chunk of beskar, a year on Bracca alone introduced his body to more diseases and viruses than he'd ever encounter on a nice sterile ship as a Padawan, or even while on the battlefield of the Clone Wars. Kinda came with the mixing pot of species all squished together in tight spaces for cheap, hard labor territory.

He clears his throat and fixes his garments, looking around for his jacket so he doesn't have to walk back to the temple in just his sleeveless, sweat-stained training shirt. Bracca may have done wonders for his immune system, but nothing can help his complexion. Even on the rare partly cloudy days on Bracca his bare skin could redden. Prauf used to poke fun at him for that.

"Alright, Bd," he sighs, clearing a croaking throat as he stretches, "let's-"

Oh... yeah.

He clears his throat again, sniffing, and tugs his arms into his jacket and double checks the presence of his lightsaber.

Time to get today over with.

-o-o-o-o-

"I don't want you sleeping outside again," Bode says as they walk through the forest.

Bode had spent the whole morning worrying about Cal, even Kata had noticed it, asking him if he was okay while he made a fire to heat up breakfast rations. Cal returned closer to noon than to sunrise, caked with smears of dirt and bags under his eyes. He looked pale, still does actually, but had refused to explain his night's actions more than a I only did what you suggested.

Cal sniffs. "That a rule?"

Bode scowls at him, but turns back to the trail ahead of them. He had scouted the area after unloading Cal from the cargo-hold and finding a place to hide his jet. He had seen wildlife grazing east of the temple, wildlife that were potentially able to be domesticated. If not, they'll at least show where the edible plants are. Bode had made it clear to Cal earlier that morning that he expected Cal to help with chores and assist in making a self-sustainable home for the three of them. He had expected an argument, but Cal just shrugged and asked what needed to be done first.

"If it has to be," Bode replies. "Though it should be common sense. What if you catch a cold?"

Cal rolls his eyes. "Fine, whatever you say."

And it leaves off there.

Bode resists frowning. It's like Cal has completely switched his personality through the night. What was a burning anger and a palpable sense of betrayal just a cycle ago... is now just... aloof. Bode can't tell what he's thinking, or how he's feeling, and it's slowly starting to make Bode feel worse than if Cal had still been visibly angry.

Bode's seen Cal get this way a few times before; this natural deflection of whatever truth rages within him. The first time had been on Coruscant while Cal repaired an ascension cable; Bode had tried to nonchalantly dig for information about Cere Junda but Cal had carefully kept from mentioning anything damning... not because he had pinpointed Bode's intentions with the questioning, but because Cal had hard feelings about the topic. About Cere.

Another time was long after Bode had reunited with Cal on Koboh. He had asked about Cal's love life with Merrin, and he got dodgy. That must have been because he must have had feelings for the woman, but the Jedi's oaths of celibacy was something he was struggling with.

The other times were not as obvious, just simple glimpses into what Cal had thought about his old family. The way his voice went flat while talking about his time alone, how he put on a fake smile the first time they approached Jedha, how he always avoided using the bed Greez provided specifically for him.

Bode hadn't expected this kind of concealment to be directed at himself, though it's not like he had expected to care if Cal hated him or not either. And for once, he doesn't know how to read this.

Cal's upset with Bode, and Cal's no longer going to be transparent about the why.

And deep down, that frustrates Bode.

Tanalorr wasn't a place for secrets, not between Bode's family. Bode had promised himself and Cal that there was no reason to keep secrets. Well, all except one, but he'd tell that secret to Cal once he accepts his place on Tanalorr.

He breathes a mental sigh to calm himself. Cal's understandably angry. Let him process at his own pace. He'll open up again soon enough.

Cal clears his throat, he's been doing that all morning, and continues walking to where Bode is leading.

Bode stays silent for the rest of the journey, he doesn't know what to say.

Eventually, they make it to the field where he had seen the grazing fauna. However, that's not the highlight of the day. Yes, it was exciting to see that the fauna still hung around and that they were flightless poultry that weren't native to Tanalorr, but purposely brought by the Jedi two hundred years ago with the intention of domesticating. Bode doubts there's a single fauna larger than the tip of his pinky finger that are native to Tanalorr.

No, truly, that discovery was important, but it wasn't what lingered at the forefront of Bode's mind even as they let the fauna be with plans to build, or repair, an enclosure for them.

On the way back, Cal breaks off from Bode toward what appears to be another destroyed ship; a relic of an ancient war. This one is recognizably High Republic, the Jedi symbol stamped across one of the wings. Bode watches intently as Cal approaches the fighter jet, the younger man having already pulled off one of his gloves like it wasn't even an afterthought.

Psychometry.

Bode's always wondered what that's like.

The Jedi had never been too fond of obsessing over the past, nor the future. Visions, many said, were a path to the dark side. The Jedi were also hypocrites. Casting aside prophecies until they were convenient. Bode's honestly sure that the only reason Cal was allowed to continue into Padawan-ship despite his rare ability was because Anikin Skywalker's existence challenged their views first. The future didn't exist, and the past didn't matter... until they both did.

Bode watches, fascinated by how Cal goes about his investigations, brushing his fingertips along places most likely to have been touched. He doesn't fall into any trances; the kind where his body goes stock still and his eyes unfocus, sometimes rolling to the back of his head. He does pause every so often, his eyebrows creasing and his eyes closing with a sharp downward turn to his lips, but as Bode carefully reaches out with the Force, all he feels back concerning Cal's greater emotions is mild frustration at none of the echoes being stronger. Bode backs off before Cal can notice him pressing. Bode doesn't want Cal to feel more invaded than he already is.

Bode's a little glad none of the echoes are stronger. How Cal manages to continue to be so firmly himself through the strong ones is beyond Bode. How many lives has he lived? How many points of views? How many times has he felt death, or victory, intense love, suffocating fear? He'd done a little research into psychometry when he had been assigned to get close to Cal—"little" being relative, he couldn't do much study when there wasn't much to be found—but he at least knows that those with the ability experience the memories as if they were there themselves. Bode can't imagine being in someone else's mind, seeing how they see, feeling what they feel, thinking the way they think.

Maybe that's why Cal's always been so deeply kind and patient toward most people he met. He has an empathy far deeper than most will ever know.

Which stings a little, that Cal's so firmly decided Bode is wrong in what he's trying to do here; choosing instead to wallow in his own self righteousness instead of trying to see from Bode's side and...

And maybe that's the trick of it. Why Cal so stubbornly remains himself. Maybe, somewhere in his consciousness, he's drawn lines. Things he won't back down on. Things he's made a core at what makes Cal Cal. Maybe, what Bode's doing is challenging one of those core things that make Cal. It's not something he's willing to see from another point of view.

Bode just has to figure out what exactly is holding Cal up on this kind of life. Help him through it. Maybe see if Bode can... he doesn't know... make an echo? Force Cal to see things differently with Bode's eyes?

Somehow, Bode gets the feeling that would be more of an invasion for Cal than it would be for Bode. So he stashes the idea somewhere at the back of his head with the other last case scenarios.

Cal pokes his head further into the jet's cockpit, both hands reaching in despite one still being gloved. Curious, Bode advances closer instead of watching at a distance. He has enough experience with spacecraft to know when something is doomed to never fly again, and this jet certainly falls in that category, so he's not worried about Cal jumping into the pilot's chair and taking off—though fruitless that effort would be without the compass.

"Find something interesting?" He asks.

Cal doesn't jump, but the way his body springs up for just a moment suggests a monumental effort to not react. Bode presses a tight smile to his lips; he didn't mean to startle Cal.

Cal glances at him, then clears his throat. "Not really, the pilot was a Jedi, she survived the crash, she didn't leave many strong emotions."

That's probably a good thing that she didn't leave strong emotions. If Bode knows Jedi, which he's pretty sure he does, most Jedi who show strong emotions are ones who fall to negativity. Their darkness. Struggling with one's own Dark Side is hard enough without experiencing someone else's. Bode knows he himself has distanced himself from the Force because his own connection can get dicey as of late.

Cal hums, backing away from the jet and replacing the glove on his bare hands. "Let's head back," he says, glancing at Bode with an eyebrow raised before walking away back toward the temple. He clears his throat again as he walks away.

Bode watches him go for a moment, biting the inside of his cheek. There it is again. That aloofness. There's no discernable anger, but there's no friendliness. It's like Cal's decided to treat him like a stranger. Which, fair. Cal's not lying that much of what their relationship had started as was all lies.

Bode wishes he could shake sense into Cal. Show him how good they could have it here if he'd just give in.

For now, he follows Cal back to the temple, telling himself over and over that Cal just needs time.

-o-o-o-o-

The sun is setting, and Cal's head pounds. Not only that, but throughout the day he's only gotten more congested. The entire day he's felt like he's been slowly suffocating, forcing himself to breathe though barely parted lips unless Bode looked at him, to which Cal would shut his mouth and hold his breath until Bode looked away.

He doesn't know why he's trying so hard to hide a simple, growing cold. Maybe he's afraid Bode knowing about it would hinder his plans to explore the area more on his own; or maybe he's just stubbornly trying to keep together what little pride he has left. Catching a cold on the first night feels embarrassing in ways that it shouldn't.

He brings the back of his hand to his nose, casually wiping like he had an itch, as Kata silently plays with her Mookie doll. A circle of stones corral a small fire, a pot Kata had found in the temple hung over it, boiling water. Bode had left the two of them alone while he's off getting more firewood; which feels wrong for a whole bunch of reasons. The man kidnaps Cal and then leaves him alone with his daughter like there's nothing weird about that.

Cal doesn't know how to act around Kata.

Obviously, she's innocent in everything. It's not hard to separate her character from her father's. She's smart for how small she is. Mature in ways Cal wasn't when he was her age. But she's still a child. A child who enjoys playing with dolls and singing songs to herself.

"Hey Cal? Can I ask you a question?" Kata suddenly asks.

Cal blinks. She's also unapologetically curious.

"Of course," he responds, pushing the discomfort of his own body to the back-burner, throwing her a smile. "Besides that one, I'm assuming?"

She doesn't look at him while she continues to play with the doll, walking it across the log.

"What's important to you?"

Out of all questions, Cal hadn't expected that one. Cal doesn't know many—if any at all—kids, but he's pretty sure kids don't ask questions like that to strangers they've just met. Cal would have expected something like, what's his favorite color, or where is he from, or can she see his lightsaber.

Getting philosophical with a child isn't at all what he was expecting.

The back of his throat tickles, and he clears it. "Um," he says, trying to figure out how honest he should be with a child he'd just met. A child he's going to be spending a considerable amount of time around for the time being until he can find a way to escape. A child who's just as victimized in this as he is, even if she doesn't know it. A child... who's looking at him now with an open interest and a raised eyebrow, expecting an answer.

He sighs, his shoulders dropping.

"My... mission."

"What's that?"

He brings a hand to the back of his neck, tugging on the shirt hairs. "Holding the line. Fighting the Empire. Protecting people. I'm a Jedi, one of the last, and I have to keep my people's memories alive."

She nods. "What else?"

What else? Stars, could the girl just ask to see his lightsaber or a cool Force trick?

He clears his throat. It's really starting to smart. "My family," he continues. "They accepted me when I had no one, I'd do anything for them. Other things too, but those are the most important."

"I see. Thank you, Cal."

He awkwardly nods his head. She looks like she's solved the secrets to the universe, but whatever answers she's found in their short conversation, she keeps to herself.

Feeling off-put, he lowers his hands into his lap. "Do you, uh, want to see a Force trick?"

Her face scrunches up for a second. "My papa can do those."

"Oh," Cal says, suddenly feeling distant. "Right. I... forgot."

Bode's a Jedi.

Bode used the Force on Cal. Only once, in their initial scuffle, and he hasn't visually used the Force since... but he used the Force.

"You can still show me tricks, though," Kata continues, unaware of his inner turmoil. "If you know new ones."

Cal pushes the turmoil down and makes sure his smile looks friendly as he reaches forward with one hand, using the Force to wrap around the Mookie doll. She smiles as she lets go of the doll, laughing as he concentrates as moves the doll, limb after limb.

Mookie does a jaunty little walk down the log and then back towards Kata, jumping up her arm and hugging her around her shoulder. She giggles and takes the doll back in her hands, hugging it tight to her chest.

"Papa usually just makes rocks float," she says, amusement brightening her tone and making her sound her age.

"Papa thinks his floating rocks are cool," Bode cuts in, announcing his arrival.

Cal gives an inner speech of encouragement before turning and watching Bode set down a load of firewood before he sits down on his own log opposite of their little fire pit. He reaches over and hands out rations, then leans over the boiling water with a smile. "Good thing I thought of grabbing tea-bags."

Cal hums, looking down at his rations and taking a bite. He can't lie, the thought of tea is tempting. Bode gets to work filling three scavenged (and cleaned) mugs with the water and then dropping the bags into the hot liquid. The smell immediately washes around them, miraculously clearing Cal's sinuses just for a promising moment.

"So," Bode says, "let's talk about rules."

Cal looks up. Bode wants to talk about this now? In front of his daughter?

"Rules?" Kata asks and Bode nods.

"Rules. The three of us have this planet all to ourselves, which means we are the only ones who can take care of it, and of each other. We all need to do our part. Do you have any ideas, Kata?"

Her nose scrunches as she thinks for a moment. "Keep... our rooms clean?"

Bode snaps a finger. "Keep our rooms clean! Good one, baby girl! But what happens if we don't keep our rooms clean?"

Kata thinks for a moment longer, then smiles. "You have to clean everyone else's rooms for a week!"

Bode looks thoughtful, then nods. "We can work with that. Okay, my turn. Everyone has to be back at the temple by nightfall. If you aren't... you're in charge of breakfast in the morning. Your turn, scrapper."

Bafflement isn't anywhere close to what Cal's feeling right now. Bode raises an eyebrow, eyes so persistently not looking at Cal's face, and Cal wants to scream. He feels like he's being held hostage, forced to be civil for a conversation he truly wasn't expecting to be civil. He could argue, but that would probably scare Kata. He could play along, but that would give Bode a win.

Damn. He fights from openly glaring at Bode. "Take turns with chores. You skip out, you do extra the next day."

Bode nods, even though Cal's answer had been lazy. Stars, his head hurts.

The list of rules grows as Bode turns the conversation through a few more rounds, each person giving a rule and a consequence, nothing too steep, nothing too punishing. A few rounds in, he hands out the now steeped tea, and Cal tries not to look too thankful for the beverage and how it feels so good down his throat.

Thankfully, it eventually ends with a hefty, reasonable list as if a group of reasonable—hah—people had made it. Bode looks like he's about to send Kata to bed, but the girl startles him with a question that has Cal's ears pirking.

"Papa, how long are we going to be here?"

Bode flounders for a second, before responding gently. "This is our new home, Kata."

Her eyebrows drop, and Cal keeps his eyes on Bode, breath drawn, as she continues. "It's lonely. I don't like it here."

A thousand emotions seem to flicker across Bode's face. Conflicting ones. Ones that has Bode turning his entire body away from Cal. "It'll get better, baby. Now how about you head off to bed, papa needs to talk with Cal a little bit."

She looks between the two of them, then slowly stands up. She retreats, and Cal wonders how many conversations had gone just like that between her and her father in the past, the blatant dismissal.

Bode watches her go, before bringing a hand to his chin and sighing the second she's out of earshot. "If you sneak off at night, if you try to steal my jet or the Compass, if you don't pull your weight, I'll lock you in that room you picked out until you regret it."

There it is.

"What if I fight back?"

Bode sighs.

"Or I run?"

Bode squeezes his eyes shut.

"Bode, you can't seriously think I'd let you lock me anywhere again."

He slams a hand down on the log, and Cal quiets, holding his cooling tea. "Because I know you won't hurt me," Bode says, voice deep and steely. "Not with Kata relying so much on me. Not while there's nowhere else for you to go. If you fight back, you know I'm a lot more comfortable hurting you than you are of hurting me."

Cal holds his breath for a second, skull pounding, throat protesting, and he releases it. "Okay."

Bode seems to relax, before glancing at Cal for just a moment. "Your turn, scrapper."

Cal startles. He had thought the conversation over. "What?"

"What are your hard rules, your boundaries? This is a two way road. Give what you demand."

Cal almost wants to scoff, stand up, and leave the conversation. But he considers it for a moment, then, screw it, decides to humor him.

"Don't tie me up," he says, and Bode twitches. "I'll help with chores, but in-between them I'm allowed free time to explore and be on my own, and I get the benefit of the doubt if I accidentally stumble across anything. I'll be honest if you catch me doing something I shouldn't. No more lying." Now that he's started, he can't stop. "Stop calling me scrapper. Don't talk about my family. I also want that muzzle thrown off a kriffing cliff."

Silence settles for a suffocating second until Bode slowly nods. "Reasonable. If I break any of the rules?"

"Locked in a room until you regret it," Cal says coldly.

Bode sighs. "Alright."

Cal lifts the mug to his lips and finishes off the tea, refusing to look at Bode any longer, his barely stringed together sanity finally taking a toll. Bode finishes his own cup, then stands up.

"I'll see you in the morning, Cal," he says softly, then he grabs the pot and dumps the extra water into the fire.

Cal stays where he is for a little while, even as Bode walks away and enters the temple. It's not quite sundown, but there's not enough light to think about going out if being back before dark is so important to Bode.

He closes his eyes, and does his best to consider today a victory. He got to go out and explore the planet, and he saw another crashed ship. He got some straight answers out of Bode, and now he can finally make some plans.

Help out with chores, then go out to find a way off this planet in his free time. Keep within Bode's lines, and he'd be home free.

He sniffs, his nose stubbornly clogging again now that the tea is gone. He can only hope now that his cold doesn't get worse and complicate things.

He really doesn't need things to be more complicated.

With a sigh, he leaves the steaming campfire and enters the temple, walking into his chosen prison cell. There are folded blankets on the bed, new ones, ones that wouldn't look so nice if they had been here for two hundred years.

Bode must have put them there.

Cal doesn't have it in him to feel grateful.

#cal kestis #bode akuna #kata akuna #jedi fallen order #jedi survivor #star wars jedi fallen order #star wars jedi survivor #jin writes #fanfiction

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steamishot · 4 months

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holidays

the holidays are over and there's some post-holiday blues. this is better than the holiday blues that i've experienced previously, haha. i have a longer time to settle back into reality because the first week back at work was very slow and chill. all of the managers in HR, as well as some of my colleagues were out of office. my teammate L has officially left us to go to a different department. the work that i transferred over to her when i received a promotion will likely fall back on me again. our immediate team has had a very low turnover rate. S, L, I and i have all been part of our academic team for 4 years now and there was only one switch for the 5th person. however, it makes sense for L to jump because she's still young (3 years older than me).

sometimes, i find it difficult to transition between the lifestyles between NYC and here because it's so different. i'm definitely feeling some "in-betweener" symptoms. yesterday, SZ and i checked out a local yoga class in echo park at 9am. the first thing she said when i picked her up was that it's so windy and chilly outside, and that she was gonna be blown away by the wind (which in my mind was normal tolerable wind). then, when i got to yoga class, so many other people were talking about how windy and cold it has been. the yoga instructor even thanked people for coming out on such a chilly morning. i had no idea because my baseline of cold and wind has now changed, and i was oblivious to the wind/chill because it's way more tolerable and pleasant than the cold weather in NYC. i've been feeling really confused about how "cold" things are supposed to be to be considered cold now.

job search updates: matt had a 30 minute interview with COH last thursday, and we're in the process of setting up one with kaiser woodland hills. but no updates on LA general, UCI, or UCLA. the interview with LA general was back in late november, and we are hoping for an update this month. gah, i hate this anticipation and uncertainty. i explained in therapy that interviewing feels like a black hole sometimes. you expend so much effort into this one thing (prepping, and interviews that are sometimes 5 hours long) for it to be a gamble whether or not you move on. i've again started feeling more discouraged and pessimistic as time passes.

relationship: i've been feeling emotionally disconnected recently. it's just been difficult with his long work hours, on top of preppping for interviewing and interviewing, that our quality time together has been very limited. the last time i was back in LA, i felt depressed/sad that we were back to where we started - long distance with nothing to show for it. however, i feel more optimistic this time around and am seeing it in a more positive light. i am getting the human interaction/community feeling that i was craving, and he's getting the space to unwind after work and do his own thing without someone constantly there (and bugging him). although i miss him, the space does allow for us to focus on our own things, rather than always be intertwined due in part because of the small space. i'm proud of him that he's learning to human, take care of all his chores and make healthier meals, make time to gym/run. matt will be flying back to LA again tomorrow (he's working really hard) and we'll fly back to NYC together this sunday.

limbo: although i feel like our lives have been in limbo, not having roots in a specific place and always on the go, i am grateful that i have solid connections and some kinda roots on both coasts now. i was able to meet up with M&J and SZ this time around, and also met a bunch of family members. on the east coast, S&I are already planning for a double date home-cooked meal at their apartment (which i feel is reserved for close friends/family so it is a privilege), R&T will have a bday celebration in march, and T would like to celebrate my birthday with me. matt also booked another staycation at the equinox as my birthday gift. 🥰 although being in limbo and forced to be flexible has been difficult for me (as a rigid person), i'm trying to focus more on the positives of my situation instead. in LA, i also had the privilege of celebrating christmas and new years with our families. i'll also be going to vegas this week with matt's family, meeting up with previous coworkers and attending my nieces bday party this weekend before heading back.

LA winter: this is also the first winter that i've ever WFH in LA. besides it getting darker and colder, i don't remember that winter had that much of an effect on me when i was commuting to the office. it was the same ish everyday/autopilot. now, i've been getting sleepy at like 7pm because it gets dark at 4pm. i also don't feel inclined to leave the house when it's dark. it's been harder to get up in the mornings because the bed is too comfortable and warm. and i do feel myself getting lazier to workout because of the cold.

life: my dad's cousin/family member passed away recently at 80. it was sad because my family had just had dinner with their family a few months ago and he seemed fine. we grew up meeting with their family periodically since i was little, and they were the only reason we would ever eat at vegetarian restaurants. my dad will be attending the funeral this week. this is the closest "family" member's death that we've had in america in a while. when my parents were on the cruise, they also learned of another friend's death. recently, my mom's cousin in france also passed away after battling cancer. i've never seen my parents cry, get emotional, or grieve over someone's death. it's always been a stoic understanding of "this is part of life". at their age 60+, death seems like a frequent topic ("did you hear this person died?" etc). it reminds me to stay present and cherish the times we have with all our loved ones.

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bnerdler · 1 year

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This week has been a really shitty week. This post is mostly just me venting. I'll be OK, im not looking for pity. I have a support system and coping strategies to sort myself out I just need to vent a little.

I moved on Thursday last week from my 1x1 apartment that was slowly draining me of money into my friends townhome which is going to half my living expenses. And that's great and all but my cat has extreme aggression and anxiety problems. He'd been getting medicated for it but he's got such a high drug tolerance that anything we give him we have to double the dosage for it to have the effect that the normal dose would have for a normal cat.

Needless to say, during the move on Thursday he broke out of the room I'd had him and my other cat in while I got my room set up. In the process of getting him back in the room and into the crate, he bit my hand and scratched up one of my roommates. We got him started on a short term sedation drug while we weighed the options over the weekend. He settled down enough to not be so scared he attacks me but just yowls for hours nonstop due to separation anxiety.

The vet thinks he might have a brain tumor which has caused the aggression. Even scared cats don't normally attack their owners. But I can't afford to get him brain scans to diagnose much less treatment if he does. Not to mention the off cha ce that it's not a tumor or that it is but treatment doesn't help. We've decided to drug the hell out of him. We upped the dosage of the anxiety meds he was already on, added in a secondary anxiety drug, and I'm slowly getting the rest of the stuff the vet suggested such as cbd oil, pheromone sprays, and the like. If it says "calming" on it im getting it. Its... only mildly helping so far but we've only been here a week and today is the last day of the sedation drug and we started the new anti-anxiety meds yesterday. I just really hope this works. I hope this is all worth it and gives me a cat that I love being around. That im not scared of. That I'm scared for.

Like on a scale of 1-10 how anxious are you, my cat is constantly living at a 10. He has no quality of living like that. He can't be around other people bc he will attack them. And he's just anxious and scared out of his mind all the time. So if this new action plan doesnt work... well I'll have to euthanize him. And I really really don't want to have to make that decision.

I got the news about all this on Monday and just sobbed for like 6 hours straight. And I still had to go to work.

It's been a shit week at work too. The boss man was having a gout flair up from stress so he's grumpy and in pain which has made him irritable and altogether unpleasant to be around. He's also been really paranoid bc of the stress. We have security cameras in the school which isn't a bad thing, we need to have them. But the fact that he watches the feed, purposely moved the camera over the front desk to monitor everything I do, calls me and asks me what I'm doing when I'm there alone. Like yesterday the spot where my cat bit me was feeling very sore, so I was icing it and he calls me and asks me what happened to my hand. And like it's not like I'm fucking around at work. I do my work I get my shit done. But it's the assumption that I am and that even when I'm alone, I'm still being watched and have to monitor myself. Like I was raised barely reformed jewish. I wasn't meant for this Christian guilt panopticon bullshit.

faked an emergency to go home early last night bc I just could not stand being around the boss man last night. I did not want to take class with him. I was already emotionally at my wits end and was not in the place to deal with him.

It's also the anniversary of my grandfather's passing. So just the reminder of oh yeah I buried my grandfather on this day 2 years ago sucks.

And then also there's the news about moonbin which is hitting me hard too. Like when jonghyun passed I didn't consider myself a shawol (I still dont). But there was a really long time where I couldn't listen to shinee's music. But with astro and moonbin? I've been an Aroha since day one. The day hide and seek came out, I listened to it nonstop. Their music helped me through some really dark times bc it was just impossible for me to be sad while listening to their music. And as shallow as it feels to say it, moonbin was my bias. He was also incredibly close in age to me. He was born only a week before I was so that just makes it hit different. I know that one day I will be able to listen to Astros music again and feel joy but I don't know how long that will take.

And this weekend is my boyfriend and my roommates birthday but I don't know how I'm supposed to go out clubbing with them when all I want to do is stare at a wall and not think. Like my social and emotional batteries are just drained. I really don't want to have to perform being a person. Just for 24 hours I need to turn off. Like you know when a computer is giving you problems? I feel like that like someone just needs to turn me off and then turn me back on after waiting 30 seconds.

It's just all this heavy things this week, all the grief and stress. Not to mention the kids I work with being absolutely off the rails too. They've been pushing every single button. And I just have no patience for it.

And on the one hand I want to channel all this emotion and grief into my writing, on the other hand I just want to not do anything. I'm like any minor inconvenience will set me off crying.

I'm also just living on the razors edge monetarily. I've got no savings, my credit card is maxed out, I've got bills to pay, and I don't get paid enough to cover it all. At the last apartment I was living paycheck to paycheck with barely enough to cover my most pressing bills: rent, utilities, food, gas. I had to put off buying new underwear for like 6 months bc I couldn't even afford the $10 for a pack of the cheap Walmart shit. I've also got some big bills happening right now. With the move I had to break my least which cost me. Getting into the new place I've got food costs bc I finished almost all of my staples before the move. I've got all this shit for my cat. I'm behind on my student loans. I'm behind on my membership for taekwondo. I'm going on a cruise in like 20 days and I need to have money for that. Afterwards is our tournament and I want to compete which costs money that i dont even know if I'll have. I'm just tired of living frugally not because I want to but because I have to.

I'm just tired.

So that's where I'm at lmao.

#ive got so much chores to do too #theres laundry to put away #and dishes to be done #cat litter to be cleaned #i think I'll come home early from work tonight again #i just need some time to reorganize myself #1 day to do nothing #and 1 day to put everything back together #but i #have to work today and tomorrow too #long post

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a-moth-to-the-light · 1 year

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Songs of 2022, 5

[my considerations in choosing these songs!]

no cambies tu andar by Alba Reche (March 31, 2022)

Thanksgiving was tough. The week included a packed (and unexpectedly emotionally intense) three days of uni, immediately after which I was launched onto a plane headed to a not-so-familiar house, inside of which were a couple of people I honestly wasn't sure I was ready to see again. I also just generally hate travel, which made the week even worse--being away from my place of residence, where everything is exactly where it's supposed to be, feels like losing a part of my body. Happy holidays, I guess. Wednesday night, the day before my trip, featured a meltdown to the tune of Lana del Rey's "Ultraviolence" (really, never a good sign) after an accidental all-nighter on Tuesday night because I was too stressed to sleep. So I definitely wasn't ready to handle an airport on Thursday, especially not when I was travelling on my own for the first time. But Alba Reche's music has a history of helping me through all that I can't handle in life, and this is when "no cambies tu andar," a song that was quite new to me at the time, came through. I left this one on repeat as I went through ticketing, through security, through buying water and settling down at my gate, through hoping my shaky, robotic movements wouldn't unsettle those around me. I did it, against all my expectations, and when I got to my destination I was able to set things up almost like they were back in my dorm, and things were, just a little bit, okay.

This one could be pretty easily replaced by "esa también fui yo" from the same EP in terms of quality and the practically-equal amount of times I've listened to each, but this airport trip is really what made "no cambies tu andar" such a meaningful 2022 release for me. Like I mentioned in my post on "Lemon-Aid," soothing music matters a lot to me, and my favorite Alba Reche songs (including this one) make extensive use of this beautiful vocal layering that sounds the way peace feels. The lyricism is a highlight, too--I love the way the sounds of the chourus fit together, the syllables like rocks tumbling together in the river current that is Alba Reche's husky voice--and the layers of percussion, stacked beautifully against each other, are as earthy as her vocals. And then, of course, the track finishes out with some choral accompaniment--if you know me, you know I'm done for as soon as that army of voices comes in. Alba Reche has, since her debut, been able to use her voice to carry a song, but I love seeing her evolution as she incorporates more and more complex instrumentals into her music without sacrificing any of her vocal power. "no cambies tu andar" is SUCH an exciting development, far smoother than "la culpa," one of her 2021 tracks with a unique instrumental that wasn't quite executed right, and I couldn't be happier to see her continue to release music as great as "quimera," the first song I heard from her (and still my favorite!), without being simply "quimera" again.

And, I don't mind airports so much anymore. Hell, the airport by my university, the one I walked through to the tune of "no cambies tu andar" back in November, has begun to feel like home.

#she's DEFINITELY on my bias list now :)#btw she wrote this one!!!#my fave songs #top songs of 2022 #alba reche

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handsomelyhiddleston · 3 years

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Dark Queen, Bright King - Tom Hiddleston x Emo/Alt Reader

You and Tom were different. At your core you shared many interests and values as well as your playful natures and senses of humor, but if someone were to see you walking down the street together, they might have a few questions.

“What are you going to wear on the show?” you asked your now husband. You and Tom had been married for nearly a month after dating for about two years and he had finally convinced you to let him introduce you to the world.

“I don’t know, actually.” Tom sat down on the couch next to you and pulled you into his side. “I can’t decide between wearing the most colorfully obnoxious outfit I could get away with or pulling a Ragnarok and wearing head to toe black.”

You laughed, dragging your finger up and down Tom’s thigh. “I can’t lie, the black-on-black suit does make me feel a way…”

“Of course, you pick the black suit.” Tom teased, pulling you into a heated kiss as your fingers trailed dangerously close to his manhood.

You turned to straddle Tom’s lap, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. His hands couldn’t stay still, moving from your legs to your ass to your waist. “I didn’t pick the black suit.” You said, leaning forward to press kisses across his jaw and down his neck. “I think you should wear one of your stunning bright suits.”

“But you said…” Tom tried to reply, already having a hard time staying on topic.

“I said it makes me feel a way.” You pushed Tom’s shirt down his arms and ran your hands slowly up his torso. “What you’re forgetting…” you pulled your shirt over your head to reveal a black lace bra, “is that you’re always making me fall further and more in love with you just by being you.”

Tom pulled you tighter to him, pressing sloppy kisses to your breasts. “God, I love you.”

The two of you could never keep your hands off of each other. This was the second time TODAY you’d made love. Slowly. Lazily. Just happy to be in each other’s embrace.

As you laid against his chest, still on the couch, and let your breathing slow back to normal you looked up at your husband. “I fell in love with you exactly as you are.” You traced invisible patterns softly into Tom’s chest with your fingertip. “I love how bold and bright and charismatic you are. I love that you like classical music and how excited you get when people ask you questions about Shakespeare and that you’re always the most polite person in the room. I wouldn’t change a thing about you.”

You could feel a laugh rumble in Tom’s chest. He pulled your hand to his lips and gently kissed it. “I’m ever grateful for that.” Tom twirled a piece of your hair between his fingers as he spoke. “I wouldn’t change a thing about you, either. I can’t wait to tell the world how much I love you.”

“How are you going to break the news that the actor behind everyone’s favorite trickster has finally settled down?”

“You’ll have to wait and see.” Tom smirked.

The two of you had met on a Broadway show set. You were in charge of make-up and costume design, and you’d hit it off with Tom straight away.

At first, he found you intriguing. Your style spectrum went from absolute tomboy to fitted dresses, but the color black was the common denominator. You had various tattoos sprawled across your skin and there really was no way to know what color hair you’d show up with the following day. He loved how sure of yourself you were and how little you worried over what those around you may or may not be thinking.

Little did he know, you thought the same of him. First, he was the most attractive person in the room whether he was wearing a ten-thousand-dollar suit or a pair of black joggers and a t-shirt. He always commanded the room with his bright disposition and you’d never once seen him have a diva moment. He was intelligent…not only with information, but emotionally.

One day after a show, while you were gently removing his stage make-up, he kept smiling up at you.

“What’s got you so happy?” you asked.

“Well, we’ve got a week break. First real break we’ve had since the show started.” His answer made sense, but you noticed his cheeks were blushing.

“You get a whole week without having to deal with me smearing things all over your face” you teased, throwing the make-up remover wipes away.

Tom cleared his throat. “I was actually hoping we could make plans?” He reached out and grabbed one of your hands in both of his.

It took you a second to realize he was being serious. “Is Mr. polite and proper asking me on a date?”

Tom laughed, ducking his head. “That depends on whether or not Ms. dark and spooky is willing to give Mr. polite and proper a chance.”

The two of you ended up spending the entire week together. You talked about film scores and music. Horror movie classics and period pieces. Your favorite projects that you’ve worked on. Friends and family. Even though the two of you looked so different, you fit perfectly into each other’s lives. That brought you to this moment, with your husband about to tell the world about your existence.

The Graham Norton show is filmed on a Thursday and aired on a Friday. You were surprised that no one had leaked the news between filming and airing.

“Welcome to the show TOM HIDDLESTON!” The audience, as usual, went wild. Graham always loved teasing Tom and making him blush, so when Tom reached out to let Graham know he wanted to announce something important and that he wanted to do it on the show, Graham booked it immediately.

“Welcome back, Tom.”

“Thanks for having me” Tom answered, greeting everyone else on the couch with him including Eddie Redmayne and Kenneth Branagh.

They talked for a minute about Tom’s latest projects and such.

“So, Tom. I hear you’ve had a lot of big things happen this year?” Graham was genuinely curious what Tom was going to announce.

“That I have.” Tom replied, looking to be thinking about them. “I mean, one…I bought a house outside of London.”

“Wonderful, wonderful. What else?” Graham continued.

“Oh, I also experienced my first mosh pit” he said so casually.

“You did what, dear?” Kenneth interjected.

“Why wasn’t I invited to this?” Eddie asked, laughing at everyone’s reaction. Eddie obviously already knew what Tom was going to announce as him and Tom had been friends since they were teenagers. Eddie was at the wedding, even.

“Hold up! Hold up.” Graham said, waving his arms. “How on God’s green earth did you end up in a mosh pit?”

“Well, thankfully I didn’t end up IN it. For my first go, I just stood very very close to it.” Tom explained, making the room laugh.

Kenneth turned to Tom. “Why were you anywhere near it?”

“Well, my wife had been asking me to go to one of…” Tom started explaining.

Graham did a dramatic double take before reaching out and grabbing Tom’s arm, interrupting his story. “Did you say your wife?”

“Yes, my wife y/n. She loves this band Bring Me The Horizon, and her friend couldn’t make it to the show so she asked me if I would go with her.” Tom had the biggest smile on his face, finally being able to talk about you.

“Screw the mosh pit and the house near London, I want to hear about your wife!” Graham pushed.

“Well, I guess the biggest thing that happened this year was that I married the love of my life.” Tom blushed, looking back at the screen. He had given the production team a few photos to show.

On screen first was a photo from your wedding. You were in a beautiful, gothy, black, long-sleeve, plunge neckline, lace dress and Tom was in an amazing dark red suit with a black shirt.

“You two look incredible.” Graham complimented, watching the photo change.

“Thank you, she’s a million times cooler than I am.” Tom laughed. “But for some reason she agreed to spend the rest of her life with me.”

The second photo was a candid photo from the greenroom where you met. You were concentrating on getting Tom’s stage make-up perfect and he was just staring at you, adoration clear on his face.

“As you can see, I was smitten.” Tom pointed out.

“Is that how you met?” Graham asked. Tom told the story and explained how long the two of you had been dating, then engaged, and then married.

“I’m surprised you were able to keep it private for so long” Graham commented.

As the final photo came up, Tom started explaining. “This is a photo of Y/n at one of my family gatherings.” It was a photo of you on the living room floor with his nieces and nephews. You were laying on your stomach and painting all of the kid’s nails. “We had only been together for a little over a month I believe. We had just concluded the show where we met, and I asked her to come to London with me. She was so nervous.”

“Well, it looks like she had no reason to worry.” Graham said.

“Not at all. The kids never left her side.” Tom replied, smiling as he looked at the photo. “Everyone loved her. Everyone that meets her loves her, to be honest.”

“Well, when she’s ready you’ll have to bring her on the show.” Graham suggested.

“I think having you two in a room together would be dangerous.” Tom laughed.

“Whatever could you mean?” Graham tried to act innocent, and Tom just raised his eyebrows and gave him a *you know what you did* look. “Fine, no fanfiction involved. Honest to God.”

Everyone laughed and the show moved onto Kenneth after Tom received many congratulations.

#Tom Hiddleston #Tom Hiddleston x reader #Tom Hiddleston Imagine #Loki

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theramseyloft · 3 years

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You go on about how intelligent/emotional pigeons are, but you treat them like objects and that bothers me. You separate bonded pairs of these intelligent, loving animals so frequently as if they don't have any feelings. And then you wonder why these birds afterward do not just take a new mate instantly. You are continually traumatizing these animals and causing them to shut down because they probably begin to realize any new bond they make will only be severed.

I do that because they are.

There is a huge difference between treating a living being like an object and acknowledging that the feelings of a non-human will not often perfectly align with those of a human.

Different species are different.

They have different physical, emotional, and social needs, even if there are a lot of close parallels.

And there are certainly a lot of parallels between humans and pigeons;

They are self aware cooperative social learners.

They form societies.

Those societies have a culture that varies regionally and they have a base line of values...

But their society, culture, and values are different from a human’s because pigeons are not human.

Nothing specializes in preying on humans. We generalize in preying on everything, as a species, as a whole.

We change our environment to suit our needs as much as we are able, and we are more able with every generation.

While things, objectively, can happen to any human at any time, out of nowhere..

On the whole, we generally don’t expect them to.

As such, our monogamous relationships are, ideally, “Until death do us part” meaning “Until we both die of old age, preferably around the same time.”

To the extent that closely bonded humans are emotionally devastated by the loss of that life partner.

To many of us, a life partner is also counted as lost if they engage in sexual infidelity, and if this happens, we are just as devastated (if not even more devastated) as we could have been if that partner had died.

Pigeons are a prey species that evolved in a cheetah-and-thompson’s-gazelle-style arms race with the Peregrine Falcon.

Their monogamous relationships version of “Until Death do us part” can be better translated; “Until one or the other of us gets eaten on a foraging trip.”

And sexual fidelity does not enter into the equation for a pigeon unless their partner is treading or being tread by some one else at the exact moment that bird wants to tread or be tread by their partner.

A cock who wants sex will seek out his wife first, but if she is not interested, he will go asking all the hens away from their nest until one agrees and crouches for him.

If his mate changes her mind and wants him to tread her, she will seek him out and crouch to present herself.

He will tread his wife, and after they do the cute little “I just had sex” dance that’s reserved for mated pairs (side flings get neither this nor courtship. Just sex and separate.) she goes off to do what ever she wanted to do.

If the cock is satisfied, he goes with his wife.

If he still needs or wants more sex, he can tread as many hens as he wants. His wife will not care, because she has had her turn.

If a hen wants sex, she will seek out her husband, generally, but if he’s busy or away, she’ll present for who ever she likes.

Her husband does not care who filled the egg. He only cares that she lays it in his nest and he gets to help set and raise it.

Pigeons divorce partners they consider to be inadequate. Cocks who fail to fill eggs, hens who refuse to set eggs, partners of either sex that don’t spend enough time reaffirming their bond with their spouses...

Unrequited relationships and love triangles are also relationships that pigeons find themselves in.

A pair is considered to have divorced if one partner or the other moves in and spends their nights in the nest of another partner, not for mating with some one else.

Some times, divorces are mutual, and both birds move on to other mates.

Some times, they are not. And the partner left will pine and keep making overtures to reconcile with the partner that left them.

But when a mate just disappears and doesn’t come back, they are assumed by the remaining partner to have been eaten.

If they were closely bonded, the remaining partner may wait a week or so at most, in case they were lost, in hopes the missing bird will make their way back and reunite.

If, after a week, the remaining bird is keeping to them self and not socializing, something is physically wrong, and anthropomorphizing it as “depressed” can get the bird killed.

The veterinary term ‘depression’ describes an animal that is physically ill, be that from a pathogen attacking it to ingesting or absorbing a toxin or simple vitamin or mineral deficiency.

For example;

A week after I became aware that breeding pigeons could become salt deficient and gave the flock a salt and trace mineral brick, birds that had shown no interest in bonding or courting for months are suddenly flirting with everything that moves.

They were not too traumatized to before.

They had a mineral deficiency.

They did not court because they did not feel good.

With the addition of their supplement brick, lo and behold, they all feel better and are courting again.

I have an entire flock to take care of, and I am responsible for the wellbeing of every individual I bring into the world.

To avoid overcrowding, I have a cap of 10 breeding pair.

Because that is the number of adults and their offspring under 6 months old that my loft can comfortably house.

When ever a new breeding bird leaves quarantine or a keeper reaches 6 months, a bird of the same sex has to be retired and made available to avoid overcrowding and the stress and disease that come with it.

Who retires when is not arbitrary.

There are very strict criteria.

1. Physical health.

Regardless of whether or not I have a replacement ready, a bird who may be hurt by the physical process of reproduction or the strain of rearing young, or who may pass on genes that may be harmful to potential offspring is retired on the spot and adopted out with a strict nonbreeding agreement.

Gus is a sweet boy,

But this happens to him every molt, and we have since found out that it runs in both sides of his family, proving it to be genetic and cumulative.

As cute as he and Leela were together, I cannot let him breed.

Because I would have to be a monster to be willing to knowingly pass that painful condition on to another generation.

He has a forever family familiar with his condition to whom he is going on Monday.

2. Undesirable structure

I do not mean anything as stupid as “This animal isn’t pretty enough.”

Cody is not only gorgeous, but an excellent father who has served our program very well.

But his muffs are big enough to make walking uncomfortable, so while I like the rest of his traits, that’s one I want to breed away from.

Now that I have a brother and Sister of his with short muffs that do not cause them discomfort,

Farthing

and suki

will continue contributions to the project

and Cody is available.

3. Antisocial behavior that disrupts or disturbs their flock mates.

Indica

And Pookie

Are the poster children for flock disruption.

They are a gay and bi mated pair of cocks, who are literally turned on by prying other treading pairs off of each other.

If they see another pair treading, Indica will grab the hen by the scruff, Pookie will grab the cock by his, and they will pull in opposite directions, prying the treading pair apart, and marching them in opposite directions towards the wall.

Indica and Pookie will then throw the bird they have at the wall and then run back to meet each other in the center of the floor, smooch-feed each other back and forth, and take turns treading each other.

On top of this, they defend 15 of the 36 total nest boxes in my loft, refusing to pick a specific one or let any other pair settle in a box to lay.

You may or may not have noticed that when I advertised the available birds on Thursday, I made a point of saying that I would prefer these two be adopted together because they are bonded and would be happier that way.

A prospective new family is coming to meet them on Monday.

But they are SUCH a violent disruption to their flock mates that if only one had a home lined up, it would be unkind to the rest of the flock to keep them both on the insistence that they go together.

4. Shitty parenting history

Parents who tend to ignore eggs or peeps, leaving all the work of setting or feeding to their partner.

This is a personality trait, and such a parent puts dangerous strain on their partner and stress on their peeps.

Their partner will usually divorce them for that, so adopting the bad parent out isn’t “Splitting up a bonded pair”.

Their former spouse is usually looking for or has found some one else with out any interference on my part.

5. Too many offspring/grandchildren

This is to avoid any more inbreeding than necessary.

Betty is one of the best studs here.

He is an outstanding father who sits tight on his eggs, pumps his peeps full, and educates them carefully though weaning.

MANY are his children and grand children, and he has a strong preference for birds with faces like his.

He has already bred with his niece to produce Sherry, and I would like to avoid having him breed to any more of his kin.

Once his peep with Liang is weaned, he will be adopted.

Liang is very skittish, and she liked him right off the bat, so I delayed his retirement to give her more time to feel secure with the flock.

But with her egg hatching, she is allowing herself to be casually flirt with more.

Wukong still likes her. So do Cherub and Ginger, so she’ll have her pick when Betty goes to his new home.

6. Temperament

The Therapy Bird Project is working towards developing a performance breed with a temperament conducive to Therapy work.

All else being equal; The birds are all physically sound with no known detrimental genes, no embellishments too exaggerated, not overly aggressive to flock mates, great parents... Then the bird least interested in human company gets retired.

The ground work of physical and mental base soundness has to be laid first and foremost for that excellent temperament I’m aiming for to shine in their handler’s lives for as long as possible.

You probably have not noticed that when bonded pairs retire at the same time, I make a thing of them being bonded in hopes that they will be adopted together.

Dodger and Alex retired close enough to each other that both are still here, and I would prefer they be adopted together.

But if one of them gets a perfect home lined up where I think that individual will be happy, I will not refuse them that good home for the sake of not splitting up a pair.

You care about the idea of that a LOT more than the pigeons themselves do.

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spicykoreantatertots · 3 years

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Fractured Hearts & Floral Lungs - Part One

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader x Jungkook

Genre: hanahaki, angst, established relationship

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 2400

Warnings: blood, choking, coughing, vomiting, hanahaki disease, relationship issues, fighting, mentions of cheating, mentions of sex, mentions of hospitals

A/N: this is my first fic in a while and i’m happy to finally be able to share something again. i’m determined to finish this series by the end of may and finish my soulmate series this summer.

thank you to @shadowsremedy for this banner and to @thesoftsoobin for beta reading for me.

this was meant to be a gift for @dee-ehn, well it still is a gift, but it should’ve been posted a long time ago. i’m happy to finally be able to present you with this gift, i hope you enjoy part one of Fractured Hearts & Floral Lungs!

~~~~~~~

[Thursday Night]

Tonight isn’t the first night that you’ve shown up at Jin’s door sobbing. At this rate, it probably won’t be the last. He still hasn’t read your texts about needing a place to stay, so he’s probably asleep.

You knock loudly a few times, careful not to disturb the floral wreath hanging on the center of the door. And after a few moments you can hear some footsteps inside the apartment. There’s some more silence and then you can hear hushed whispers.

The door creaks open and Jin’s boyfriend Namjoon is standing before you.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” Namjoon sighs sleepily.

“You scared us! I even got my old tennis racquet out of the closet!” Jin complains before he pokes his head around Namjoon’s broad shoulders. The tear stains and redness of your face instantly catch his attention. “Oh no, what happened?”

For a moment, you can’t say anything. Your chest fills with emotions. Pain, frustration, sadness, heartbreak. The words can’t get past your trembling lips, and soon you feel Jin’s arms envelop you, his sweater absorbing your burning tears.

Somehow, through all your blubbering, Jin has been able to understand what happened with Yoongi. He’s rubbing soothing circles on your back, guiding you to the couch that will be your bed for the next few nights. Namjoon has brought over a pillow, blanket, and a glass of water for you.

“Why don’t you lay down and try to sleep now? This isn’t going to be resolved tonight, unfortunately,” Namjoon interrupts Jin’s comforting whispers.

“He’s right, Y/N, I can tell you’re exhausted. Try to get some rest.” Jin helps you get settled in bed before following Namjoon into their bedroom.

Jin was right. You are completely exhausted, emotionally drained. But every time you attempt to close your eyes, all you can see is him, the flowers, and the blood.

~~~~~~~

[Thursday Evening]

Something is off. He’s been coming home late everyday for the past few weeks. You hoped that today, of all days, he would make an effort. But here you are, alone, surrounded by a table full of his favorite foods. From the moment you got home from work, you’d been on your feet cooking. As if your job waiting tables wasn’t strenuous enough.

Lately it feels like you’re the only one making an effort in this relationship. He leaves for work before you wake up, returns after you’ve gotten into bed for the night. He doesn’t even take the lunches you pack for him to work anymore. You never would have suspected Yoongi of cheating on you, but his behavior is making you question everything you thought you knew.

Today will be the final straw, you told yourself. If he didn’t make it home in time for dinner on your three year anniversary, it would be time to confront him. But as six turns into seven and seven into eight, you decide to pack the meal into tupperware.

You expected tears to come, but they didn’t. Your cheeks are bone dry while you pile the rice into a slightly warped plastic container. You’re in disbelief, or perhaps you just expected this all along. The containers of untouched anniversary dinner stack neatly in the refrigerator.

The sound of keys jingling against the door signals his arrival before he opens the door. You lean yourself against the kitchen counter, grounding yourself.

“Hey babe, happy anniversary!” Yoongi’s smile shines, like it always does, but his eyes aren’t as bright. He’s carrying a bouquet of small sunflowers.

“Happy anniversary.” A faint smile crosses your face as he hands you the bouquet. He looks a little puzzled by your lack of gratitude. But then he notices the pile of dishes in the sink.

“Oh, did you make dinner?” You nod silently as Yoongi shuffles the pots and pans around in the sink. “I made us reservations at The Table. Did you eat already?” Your eyebrows shoot up.

“No!” You try again, this time suppressing the surprise in your voice. “No, I haven’t. That sounds really good.” Maybe things aren’t as bleak as they seem; at least he didn’t completely forget.

The ride to the restaurant is nearly silent, some tacky radio advertisements playing quietly. He’s holding your hand, but you’re looking out the window, focused on everything but the uncomfortable quiet. Yoongi breaks the silence and mentions something about the project he’s working on at the studio.

The studio, you think to yourself. Of course that’s all he can talk about. His passion has always been music. You were both thrilled when he got an entry level job at a music studio, and at the beginning things were good. But Yoongi always strives to be the best, and he moved up the ladder to Assistant Producer in less than a year.

Whatever album he’s working on now has kept him away from you for far too long.

“So when is that album releasing anyway?”

“Later this summer, but our work on it is almost done.” He says, and you breathe a sigh of relief.

“So you’ll be back home at normal times?”

“Well...” Yoongi glances over at you. “Jungkook wants me to work on another project with him when this one’s over.”

“I’m glad your boss likes your work, but hasn’t he ever heard of a work-life balance?”

“Jungkook is NOT my boss. He's-” Yoongi starts.

“Well he’s not your girlfriend either!” You shout. “You’re never home anymore Yoongi.” Your hand slips from his and you cross your arms.

“This is my career.” Something catches in his throat, he coughs a little. You knew he loved his job, but you never heard him get emotional about it.

“So I just need to accept that I’ll never get to see you again?” Yoongi pulls up to the front of the restaurant, in line for valet parking.

“Do you want to go home and keep fighting or do you want to get dinner?” He asks, still trying to clear his throat.

The restaurant is very nice: a robust wine selection, a pianist playing in one corner, and a sleek menu. The other tables are talking in quiet voices to retain the romantic ambiance of the place. You and Yoongi are doing your part by not speaking at all.

He’s making it tough though; he keeps coughing. You hope he’s not getting sick.

“Are you okay?” You ask, passing him a tissue from your purse, trying your best not to sound angry.

“Yeah I’ve just got something stuck in my throat, excuse me.” Yoongi snatches the tissue from your hand before walking toward the restroom.

When he returns, he looks a little worse for the wear. His skin looks paler, his hair mussed, and a wet spot on his shirt.

“Are you getting sick?” You have to ask him now. “What’s that?” You point to the wet spot just below his collar.

“I got some spit on my shirt. I do think I’m coming down with something, but I’ll be fine.” Something doesn’t seem right. He looks more than sick, almost paranoid.

Through the rest of the night he coughs here and there, but he seems to regain his composure. His long dark locks get tucked behind his ear, and for a moment you can forget how hard things have been lately. He asks about your work friends and hobbies and seems to listen intently. The curve of his smile draws a smile out of you too.

Between dinner and dessert, Yoongi reaches across the smooth table cloth to take your hand in his. His thumb gently strokes your fingers.

“You know that I love you, right?” He asks, his smile faded to a straight line. You squeeze his hand.

“You’re going to have to do a better job of showing it.”

~~~~~~~

You’re not sure if it’s the best move, but you want to show him that you haven’t given up yet. When you step out of the bathroom, wearing a revealing chemise, Yoongi is sitting on his side of the bed, facing away from you.

“How are you feeling?” You ask, climbing onto the bed. He sighs, and you reach for his shoulders. You begin rubbing his shoulder muscles, feeling the tension in them slowly releasing. Kneading his back muscles with your fingers, you lean forward to lay kisses along his broad shoulders.

“Baby, can we not tonight?” You freeze, not sure you heard him correctly. “I know it’s our anniversary, I just don’t feel good.” You remove your hands from his body.

“Yeah, of course. There’s some cough medicine and painkillers in the bathroom if it will help.” You reply, leaning back against the headboard, scrolling through your twitter feed so you can hide your embarrassment.

“I’m going to take a shower. You don’t have to wait up for me.” He gets up from the bed and enters the bathroom without glancing your way. You settle into the blankets and try to relax.

You can hear him coughing again once the shower turns on. You turn over in bed, his sudden cold demeanor reminding you of the trouble your relationship is really in. It’s hard to fall asleep to the sound of your boyfriend coughing violently, but you manage to drift away.

~~~~~~~

[Friday Morning]

The sound of Namjoon leaving the apartment wakes you. It must be around 7:30 or so. Jin is in the kitchen quietly making coffee, still in his pajamas.

“Jin, are you not going to work today?” You say in a half-whisper, not wanting to startle him.

“I called in sick. I wanted to stay with you today,” Jin explains, walking over to the couch with two mugs of coffee. He made yours just the way you like it, almond milk and a little bit of sugar. The warmth of the drink momentarily soothes your sleepy body.

Jin reaches across the coffee table and picks up the tv remote. He turns on a morning talk show, some washed-up celebrity talking to slightly less washed-up celebrities about what projects or life events they have going on.

“And later on in the show we will be joined by Jackson Wang, who will share his story of heartbreak and unrequited love that ultimately lead to the creation of his latest single, 100 ways.” The audience cheers for a moment before Jin switches the channel.

“Sorry.” He sighs.

“I don’t think that’s what the song is about...” You joke, sarcasm seeping through the pain in your chest.

Jin chuckles at your remark, but he sits uncomfortably at the end of the couch picking at his fingernails.

“Listen I wanted to say something...” He starts.

“Jin, do you think I could shower before we get into anything? I just need a minute to wake up and I feel kind of gross.” The mascara stains from the night before are beginning to irritate your skin, and a hot shower could do wonders for you. But truthfully, you just aren’t ready to talk about it yet.

“Sure, I’ll grab some sweats you can borrow.” Jin sighs, getting up from his seat.

The hot water melts away the tension in your muscles, but the tension in your mind remains. It’s difficult to keep the images of Yoongi coughing up dozens and dozens of yellow and orange petals from flooding your mind. The drops of blood on the petals and the floor just showed you how far the disease had progressed. How long he’s been in love with someone else.

The floral scent of Jin’s lavender body wash is a little too reminiscent of the smell from the night before. Sickly sweet flowers with a hint of acidic bile and metallic blood. The clean water rinses the suds but the scent remains on your skin.

When you close your eyes to rinse shampoo from your hair, the scene from the night before plays out in vivid detail.

~~~~~~~

[Thursday Night]

You had been awakened by the sounds of Yoongi retching in the bathroom. You called out for him, but he didn’t answer, so you let yourself in.

He is doubled over the toilet. A dozen or so brightly colored petals scattered around him, some smeared with watery blood. The moment you burst in, he tried to hide the extent of it, tried not to let you see but he knew it was useless. He let himself lean against the wall in defeat.

The violent episode he was experiencing seemed to come to a halt.

“Are you...” You pause, there are too many questions to ask, but you know there is only one you can ask in the moment. “Are you okay?” He closes his eyes and nods slowly. You take a moment to examine his face. It’s red, and there are tear streaks clear down his chin. There’s drops of blood and sweat on his bare chest. His heavy breathing is slowing back to normal.

And then you have to leave. You can’t stay and look at him and his flower petals any longer. It looks like he’ll be okay for the night, so you grab your purse and phone and walk straight through the door.

~~~~~~~

[Friday Morning]

Bumps rise across your skin as you exit the shower and step onto the cold floor tiles. You wrap a towel around your body and sit on the edge of the bathtub. Your phone, face down on the counter, buzzes again, and you decide to face the messages you ignored last night.

You scroll through the usual email and social media notifications to get to the dozens of texts and missed calls from Yoongi, still unsure if you should even hear him out. How can he still be in love with you when he’s been growing flowers for someone else?

A phone call interrupts your thinking. The number has a local area code. A sudden feeling of nausea tells you that something is wrong.

“Hello?” Your voice echos against the tiled walls.

“Hello we are trying to reach Ms. Y/L/N Y/N.”

“This is her.”

“You are listed as an emergency contact for Mr. Min Yoongi. He has been admitted to the ICU at Grace Regional Medical Center, how quickly can you get here?”

~~~~~~~

A/N: thank you so much for reading. check out my master list here, and check back in for part two. it will be posted by the end of april 2021!

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collecting-stories · 3 years

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Tears Won’t Cry - c. 07 - JJ Maybank

Summary: You and JJ have sex for the first time and you hear something you’d rather not.

A/N: This chapter clocks in at a whopping 5.8k...I took some serious time with it so I hope you guys like it and, as always, thank you for reading.

You Are Ok Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

✞ We’ll borrow happiness just for the night ✞

The more you thought about JJ’s offer the more tempting it seemed. Doing chores around the house, cooking, doing lessons, practicing piano for church, it didn’t matter what you were doing, that little voice in the back of your mind crept in, telling you that going with JJ would be the ultimate freedom. You wouldn’t have anyone telling you what to wear or who to talk to or what to do.

Your mom would tell you that was the voice of the ‘enemy’, the great evil that had turned Eve from god and caused immeasurable destruction. Every time the outside world came a little too close to the bubble your parents had created your mom claimed it was the work of the devil, persecuting her for her beliefs.

And didn’t Jesus spend forty days and forty nights in the desert resisting temptation from the very same devil? Hadn’t you been brought up in the church, taught the way of the Lord and encouraged, every day to resist those temptations that threatened your way of life? But here you were, spending every waking moment consumed with the idea of JJ. Maybe Jesus had survived out there but you were sure you couldn’t, not having been with JJ the way you had.

The one cardinal sin of your family, maybe more than anything else, was premarital intimacy. Sex was supposedly only good if you were married and then only intended for reproduction or for pleasing a husband. It was, according to both your parents, the most sacred part of yourself that you could give away. And even with the amount of thought you had given it, the careful consideration of your feelings and your future, you imagined burning in a holy fire or turning to salt like Lot’s wife were the only options left for you if you ever told them that you had given that part of yourself to JJ.

You had mulled over the decision for three nights, had even considered praying about it though you were sure that wasn’t the sort of prayer you addressed to God, but on the fourth night you were certain. Sitting there on the non-bunk bed in your room, listening to the sound of the faucet running as JJ brushed his teeth. You knew nothing about flirting techniques or subtle seduction...you really didn’t know anything about sex at all. Your approach so far, with every part of your relationship with JJ, had just been straightforward.

So, you were straightforward again. When JJ came out of the bathroom, shutting off the hall light and leaving your door slightly cracked the way you had told him you liked it to be, you sat up more against the head board, “I think I’m ready.”

“For?”

“For...us to have sex.” You stumbled over the words, sounding less sure out loud than you were in your head. You knew this was what you wanted; JJ was what you wanted. Even if you loved someone else someday down the line you wanted this moment to belong to the two of you.

“Right now?” JJ asked, hand still on the door knob.

“Well. I don’t really know how to initiate sex so…whatever you usually do.” You replied shrugging your shoulders.

JJ let the door stay open, leaving it to cross the room and sit down on the side of the bed. You moved closer to him, sitting sideways and letting one leg hanging over the edge, toes brushing the cold hard wood as you stared at each other. Maybe that was all that would happen, you would stare for a while, both too unsure to make the next move, until finally just resigning yourselves to sleep. JJ had always been confident in bed but this was different, everything about it felt like he was treading in uncharted territory, emotionally there was no way back from this once he jumped off the cliff.

He brought his hand up to your cheek like he’d done a thousand times before, leaning forward to kiss you. He could taste the floral chapstick you had on, a little tacky against his own lips as his tongue ran across your bottom lip. You had kissed before, made out with him pretty heavily, and though you still felt timid about somethings you tried to push that aside, shifting closer to him while breaking the kiss, biting his bottom lip as you did, JJ’s eyes opening for a second in surprise. The surprise gave way to pleasure as you kissed his neck, nudging the collar of his shirt out of the way with your nose in an attempt to access more skin.

“Here,” Eager to witness you in charge of this moment, JJ broke away to pull his shirt over his head, tossing it across the room. You smiled, a quick kiss to his lips before you were back to his neck and shoulders, the skin there tan and freckled from the sun. JJ hooked his hand under your thigh, pulling you toward him until you got the idea, hooking an arm around him for stability as you straddled his lap.

You resumed your work, alternating between leaving light kisses over the freckles on his shoulders and bruising the skin around his collar, gentle first and then eager and insatiable. Your other hand rested against his abs and you could feel his breaths under your touch, heavy and impatient. You were too afraid to ask him if anything you were doing felt good because you were afraid it didn’t. You knew you couldn’t kiss him forever but you would’ve been happy too, his skin was warm and when you scraped your teeth against his collar the moan he let out sounded heavenly. You could’ve listened to him for an eternity.

JJ caught your face in his hands, kissing you again and then leaning his forehead against yours. He liked you in control but right then, “can I?” He asked, one hand going to the hem of the shirt you were wearing for bed.

“Yeah,” you weren’t entirely sure how to proceed anyway, you were happy to let him lead. Before he could pull the shirt off, you let your leg drop off the bed, finding solid ground and stepping backward off his lap. JJ pouted, grabbing at you but you backed out of his reach. You gripped the hem of your shirt, keeping eye contact with JJ as you lifted it over your head, dropping it down by your feet.

You had imagined plenty of times that the first time you would ever undress in front of a guy it would be on your wedding night and it would be a dress that they were unzipping you from. Instead, it was an old gray t-shirt with a pun about Jesus on the front that your brother Robert had gotten at a youth retreat. Nothing special by far. But JJ looked at you like you hung the stars. He reached his hand out, grabbing yours and pulling you back to the bed. He stood you between his legs, hands on your hips.

“You alright?” JJ asked, looking up at you and smiling, thumbs rubbing circles into your hips. He was sitting there, staring at you almost entirely naked, standing in front of him and he felt like his mouth had gone dry. Frozen in some form as just the person who gets to look and he knew what a momentous thing that was for you. Just to let him see you this way.

You nodded, resting one hand on his shoulder, the other cupping his cheek and he turned his face into your palm to kiss you. The confirmation that you were okay and that the look in your eye was one of complete desire and love was the only motivation that JJ needed, pulling you into his lap again, his hands running up to your waist to hold you as he brought both of you further onto the bed.

In the prelude to sex JJ had plenty of opening lines, commentary on how hot a girl was or how she made him feel but as you kissed him again, twisting off his lap so your back was on the bed and you guide him on top of you, it all felt indescribable. JJ settled for an “I love you,” whispered into your skin as he pressed his lips to your collar, one hand moving up the expanse of your stomach while the other held him over you.

“I love you too,” your response sounded breathless, a result of JJ’s trail of kisses down to your chest. His right hand groped your right breast, thumbing brushing over your nipple repeatedly as his mouth closed the other one, pressing his tongue flat against it. The sensation was enough to have you squirm under him, tensing slightly, biting down on your lip as you griped the shorter hairs at the back of his head.

He pulled away, the cool area of the room chilling you as he switched his concentration, kissing just below your breast before his mouth to the other, hand moving to hold your side as you moaned at the feeling of his mouth on you. “Your so sensitive,” JJ commented, tone conveying the awe he felt as he continued to lavish your breasts with attention.

JJ kissed you like it was an art form, like you were something delicate and he wanted to take his time to savor every part of you. His mouth moved across your stomach, kissing parts of you that you harbored insecurities about. He stopped his appreciation of your body when he reached your underwear, resting his chin on your stomach as he looked up at you. Waiting. He’d moved himself almost off the bed, halfway to a kneel your legs hanging off the bed on either side of him. You pushed yourself onto your elbows, looking down at him as he smiled at you.

“This is what you want?” He had to be sure, wanted to hear you tell him you wanted him as much as you trusted him, as much as you loved him.

“Yes.” You felt the rush of a chill down your spine as JJ kissed the inside of your right thigh, his fingers slipping around the hem of your underwear to pull them down. Nothing spectacular, in fact-

“It’s not Thursday,” JJ laughed, reading the printed text on the front of your underwear. A gift four years ago, you still retained half the collection.

“Saturday sort of, got ruined by an early period.” You laughed, lifting your head up again, “is there usually this much talking during sex?”

“Shush,” JJ teased, nipping at the sensitive skin below your stomach. Though he didn’t say it then, any girl he’d been with before had kept themselves some level of shaved but you had obviously never felt the need to. It was no real difference to him, or so he discovered as he kissed the insides of your thighs again. As he did he pushed your legs a little further apart slating them on either side of his shoulders. You were still propped up on your elbows, watching him in fascination. No one, yourself included, had ever touched you like JJ was.

The most comprehensive sex education had skimmed over details of actual sex, promising that your future husband would know your body well enough to teach you about it on your wedding night. If Timothy had even crossed your mind while this was happening, you certainly wouldn’t have drawn any conclusions to him being this skilled.

You moaned unexpectedly, surprise laced with something else, something far more primal as JJ parted your lower lips, middle finger gently running up your slit, coating it in pre-cum, ghosting a circle around your clit. Your right thigh brushed his arm and moved onto his shoulder as the minute sensation had you trying to close your legs. JJ leaned his head against the same thigh, turning just enough that he could brush a kiss against your skin.

“I got you.” He promised.

As he continued, thumb brushing over your clit as he worked in slow circles, savouring the moment, hyper aware of every twitch, moan, or movement of your body, you fell back off your elbows. You laid flat on your back, hands gripping at sheets as JJ fingered you. He picked up the pace of his thumb, pressing a little harder as he did, his middle finger slipping back into your entrance, the movement slow but still making you jerk slightly, pressing your heel into his back.

“It’s okay,” JJ shushed, kissing you leg down to the apex of your thigh, “your okay.”

You hummed in response, in no position to use any actual words. He slipped his middle finger further inside, slowly letting you adjust to the feeling. JJ had never been this careful during sex but couldn’t deny that it was arousing in itself, taking his time, focused solely on the way you felt and not some endgame-moment-of-ecstasy. He added another finger and you squeezed your eyes shut, tensing at the feeling for a split second but it left just as quickly as it came.

JJ was off his knees, hovering over you, kissing your nose and then your mouth. “It’s okay,” he promised, “are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you were already breathing heavy, eyes fluttering open just enough to look at him. JJ’s expression softened as he moved again, hooking an arm around around you and helping you sit up, pressing his lips to your forehead.

“Not tonight?” He asked, before you could even form the words. He climbed onto the bed more so he could sit you in his lap, grabbing his discarded shirt and pulling it over your head as you caved into him.

“I thought I was ready.” You admitted, wrapping your arms around him, “I just-“

“It doesn’t have to be right now…it doesn’t even have to be soon. Whenever you’re ready.” JJ replied.

“Yeah but what about you?”

JJ shrugged, “I’d be happy with whatever you’re willing to give me.” He admitted, “it’s not…I mean you said yourself, sex is something really important to you and, I like having sex but it’s not like that for me so…I can wait. I’m not going anywhere. You should feel like it’s what you want it to be.”

“Can we just lay here for a while?” You asked, shifting so you could move up the bed to get beneath the covers. JJ followed suit, letting you get between him and the wall.

With the covers up around the both of you, JJ laid on his side, head propped propped on one hand while you held the other, fingers twirling the bracelets on his wrist. A familiar one stood out, buried under intricately knotted friendship bracelets, the neon green peeking through. You pulled at it, revealing the black ichthus that was stitched onto the cheap plastic thread.

“This is mine?” You almost laughed, holding his hand closer to your face to get a better look.

“I know,” JJ admitted, “I stole it the first night you let me in your room. I saw it on the desk and took it.”

“I’m not sure a WWJD bracelet is something you would need to consult on a daily basis.” You said. Of all the non-Christian people you had encountered in your seventeen years, JJ was the furthest from the church you could think of.

“Why, what does it mean?” He asked, pressing his nose against your jaw, kissing the underside of your chin.

“What Would Jesus Do.”

“See,” he teased, “I thought it meant ‘what would JJ do’.”

“I think that would be WWJJD and no one would want to take that advice.” You replied, letting go of his hand to pull him into a kiss.

JJ hovered over you as you deepened the kiss, one hand at the back of his head, keeping him close as you imitated his earlier actions, tongue running across his bottom lip. You grabbed his free hand, resting on your hip, and dragged it up, pushing it under your shirt and onto your stomach.

“Can we see where this goes?” You asked, pulling away enough to look in his eyes.

“Anything you want.” He promised.

JJ’s movements were as slow as they had been last time, concealed now by the blanket that was over the two of you. He stayed close, where you could see him, kissing your neck, collar, face, lips, as he slipped his fingers into your still slick entrance.

You moved your hands down to the waistband of his shorts. He’d changed into a pair of basketball shorts to sleep in, easier access than the cargo shorts he had on earlier. When your hand slipped past his waistband he pressed his face into your neck, his fingers stilling for a moment inside you.

“I should tell you, I have no idea what I’m doing,” you mentioned, voice still breathless.

JJ was tempted to tell you that it wouldn’t take much for him to lose it. “You don’t have to do anything,” he replied, kissing your throat.

“I’ve never actually seen…” you trailed off, flustered at the thought. “I mean, in a textbook.”

“This is the hottest pre-sex talk ever,” JJ teased, enjoying the way your breath hitched when he pulled his fingers out again, “someday, I’m gonna make you cum.” He said.

Your eyes widened as he licked his fingers, smiling at you as he sucked them clean. JJ flopped down next to you, pushing his shorts down without any care in the world. You covered your eyes with your hands on instinct almost and JJ laughed, grabbing your wrists and pulling your hands down to his mouth so he could kiss your palms.

“Come here.” He instructed, guiding you to straddle him, watching as you sat over his thighs. “Let me show you?”

This, JJ decided as you wrapped your hand around his cock, thumb smearing pre-cum at the tip, was arguably the hottest thing he’d ever done in his life. He closes his hand over yours, guiding you as you stroke him, your eyes focused on the way his body responded to you. JJ’s chest and face were flushed red from arousal, his own eyes trained on you as he tried to keep his control over the situation. He didn’t want to spook you again, wanted to keep you comfortable. He had never been one to tap out early when it came to sex but he wasn’t sure how long he would truly be able to last. The condom that he’d found in his backpack after you told him you wanted to have sex and he went digging sat on your bedside table and he reached for it now.

When he was sure you were ready, he moved your hands to his stomach, telling you to brace yourself on him. You followed his lead as you sat up onto your knees, one of his hands gripping your waist as he guided you down on his cock, the stretch of your walls around him lessened from the angle. You moaned at the feeling of him, short breaths filling the air as you gripped his sides.

“Fuck.” You whispered the curse word, only the second time you’d ever said it though for a reason just as fitting as the first. You couldn’t think of many others that could’ve described the feeling you were experiencing.

There were a million things JJ wanted to say as he stared up at you, a thousand emotions pressing against his chest, each more in love with you than the last. He would’ve frozen this exact moment if he could’ve, just stayed like this for an eternity because how was he supposed to see you get engaged to someone else after this. Before he could get too in his head you shifted your weight forward, rolling your hips and lifting yourself up just enough that when you came back down, walls clenching around him, JJ’s hips jerked up and his hands gripped your hips tighter, fingers digging into your skin.

“Shit, holy shit.” He muttered, coaxing you to repeat the motion. You steadied yourself with your hands on his chest, rolling your hips again. “Just like that.” The third time you tried it JJ’s grip didn’t let up, instead he took the lead, picking up your pace for you. Once you seemed to catch up to the rythmn of his movements, trying your best not to overthink anything and just focus on him, JJ dropped one of his hands. You jerked at the feeling of his fingers pushing passed your folds, thumb finding your clit again and rubbing against it.

“Oh my god, JJ,” you moaned at the feeling of him overtaking your senses, your stomach tightening as he thrust his hips up to meet you, almost falling out of the rythmn he’d been keeping as you crested, orgasming first. Loud and panting, your hand slipped and you almost collapsed on him, the shifting angle and the way you clenched around him sending him over that edge with you.

It hadn’t felt anything but natural when it happened and with anyone else you didn’t think you would’ve felt as comfortable with yourself as he made you feel. JJ didn’t rush, he wasn’t impatient or self-serving. You’d read once, in a book you read sequestered in the library away from any eyes that might recognize you, about a rather steamy romance. The book was trash but you remembered that feeling of utter confusion as you read and re-read the line about feeling ‘worshipped’. How could any one person worship another?

The question answered itself in the way that JJ held you in the afterglow. And the pure, unadulterated bliss he felt when you placed kisses along his jaw, punctuating them with reminders of how much you loved him. He’d stayed with you those four days and at the Chateau before that, only a minute bruise near his hip still evident from the last time he was home and when you asked about it he claimed it was a surfing injury.

“She loves you,” Kiara had argued when he told her that he had no intention of telling you about his father. He could see, in a way, why your parents wanted to shelter you. They were just trying to keep you safe, to shield you from all the unsavory parts of life and he, in that same way, for that same reason, couldn’t bring himself to tell you about his dad.

“She won’t love that.” He was resolved to his decision. If he didn’t tell you than things could keep on going exactly the way they had been.

But it wasn’t his dad, in fact, that had any bearing on the course of things. Meeting up with each other once your parents were home returned to be a Olympic-level obstacle. You swearing that you were headed to Kiara’s for a ‘bible study’ and promising to be home before dinner, walking instead in the direction of the Chateau.

JJ wasn’t there yet when you knocked, John B answering the door instead. “Hey, I didn’t realize you were coming over.” He greeted, stepping out onto the patio with you, “this doesn’t bother you, does it?” He was referring to the fact that he was shirtless and you shook your head.

“It’s fine, I mean, it is your house.” You shrugged, sitting on the arm of one of the couches. You loved hanging out with Kiara and Pope, they didn’t just feel like JJ’s friends but yours too. There was just something about John B, you could never quite get there with him.

“JJ said your parents were out of town last week?” He asked, “Figured that was why it was so quiet here.”

“Yeah I borrowed all the loud energy for a few days,” you laughed, “it was nice though, getting to spend time with him without having to sneak around the island.”

John B nodded, walking across the small space to look outside. He paced back over to the other couch, taking a seat on the arm, mirroring your position. With your back to the screen you couldn’t see JJ approaching the house and later it was obvious that was John B’s intent all along. “Look, you seem really nice and I don’t wanna hurt your feelings, I think you’re a really cool person,” he started, pausing at the right spot to build anticipation.

“But?” You asked. You missed the sound of JJ’s boots on the steps for the creaky nature of the floorboards when John B stood up.

“But he’s only dating you for a bet. Sarah bet him $200 he could get you to sleep with him.” He replied, the sound of the door slamming open the perfect punctuation to the sentence.

“What the fuck John B!” JJ snapped, tackling his friend into the couch you were sitting on the arm of. You jumped, stumbling back a few steps, eyes wide as JJ punched John B in the ribs, pinning him down to the couch. The whole thing felt like it was playing out in slow motion but sped up at the same time. When John B finally managed to shove JJ off of him, throwing the blond to the floor, you snapped out of whatever trance it had ensnared you in.

“JJ!” You said his name before he could even get himself back on his feet and both boys looked at you. “Is it true?”

JJ stood up, grabbing his hat off the ground and clenching his fists around it. When he paid John B back it had been with the implied understanding that no one outside of their circle ever needed to know about the bet. Pope had urged him to tell you, insisting that maybe you would understand. But it was far too late for that. The bet was that the two of you had sex and you had and knowing about the bet did nothing but cheapen the moment.

“Is it true?” You repeated, trying to hold tears at bay as everything felt like it was crashing around you. This was exactly why your mom believed so strongly that the outside world was innately evil.

“It wasn’t that simple-“ JJ started to say but you cut him off.

“Yes or no?” You snapped, voicing raising more than JJ had ever heard, even when you were freaking out over lunch with Timothy’s family, “is John B telling the truth?”

“Yes.” JJ sighed, running a hand through his hair. You backed away from both of them and turned, pulling the door open and running down the steps. “Fuck,” he cursed, taking off after you. He called your name but you didn’t answer, going along the path he’d shown you between your house and John B’s. The moment you hit the yard he stopped, he couldn’t follow you there, as if the ground was poisonous to his touch. It was a natural repellent and he stood at the edge of the tree line, watching you head inside.

Minutes. It took minutes, and John B deciding to be an absolute asshole, to completely pull apart the only actual relationship he’d ever been in. He wanted nothing more than to go back to the Chateau and beat the shit out of John B until he felt better but he knew, in reality, that nothing was bound to actually make him feel anything but completely broken. You were gone. JJ changed course, heading instead to Heyward’s.

He had told Pope, while both of them were in the kitchen at John B’s, that he had slept with you for the first time. Kiara had told him, because he had blabbed to her too, that virginity was a social construct.

“You shouldn’t make such a big deal out of it.” She’d insisted.

“It is a big deal Kie, to her. It’s a huge fucking deal.” He had argued.

But none of that felt like it even mattered cause he had fucked up so badly that he wasn’t entirely sure how to fix it. He could certainly chance going to your house but he didn’t want to show up too soon. If you needed time he wanted to give that to you, whatever you needed, so long as, in the end, you believed him when he told you that it was all just a mistake. The bet, not you.

Kiara called JJ that night, you had come by her house after dinner, after asking your parents if you could sleep over, and apologizing for showing up at all. “I know this is shitty to do to you, JJ’s your best friend, I just…don’t have other friends to go to.” You had all but cried when Kiara hugged you, pulling you into her house.

You certainly couldn’t call any of your siblings, even the ones you were closest too would not be understanding. All they would see was a girl who broke her vows to the church by dating, by having sex, by lying and tricking your parents. There was no possible way that anyone in your house or your family or even anyone in your church would understand your decision to, in their minds, turn your back on God to be with a boy. So you went to Kiara’s and hoped that she wouldn’t turn you away. Whatever the bet with JJ was, you felt like Kiara was a friend, someone you could count on more than anyone else in your life right now.

“You can come over anytime, about anything.” She promised.

“I just feel so stupid,” you confessed, sitting on the bed in her bedroom, drinking a seltzer from her secret stash behind her desk. Losing your virginity, getting drunk, crying over a boy, you’d hit all your milestones in a week. If you were sober, if you weren’t so upset, you would be able to look at it for what it was but instead you stuck in this place, grieving over something you thought was so real. “John B said it was all just a bet.”

“What did JJ say?” Kiara asked. She knew about the bet but had felt like it was JJ’s place to tell you. Obviously, he had not.

“That it was, that John B was telling the truth.” You replied, taking another sip.

“Maybe you should talk to him?” She suggested. It was a tricky line to walk down but Kiara didn’t want you to give up on JJ. She knew he had feelings for you. “I’ve been friends with JJ for a really long time, I’ve never seen him like this.”

Kiara had known JJ since middle school and she’d watched him, since then, go through different relationships, if they could be called that. Dates required more effort than he was willing to give when they expected the same attention that he paid to his friends, quickly altering the way he approached relationships until they were just hook-ups. Just short lived moments, half the time too drunk to remember. He flirted, an empty gesture that compensated for his need to be physically close to people without him having to seem clingy.

“I just don’t know why he didn’t tell me.” You cried. “No wonder my parents never wanted me to date, it hurts so much.”

“I know,” Kiara lamented, crawling across the bed so she could pull you into a hug, your head resting against her shoulder as you continued to cry. It was like an endless sadness, you couldn’t imagine recovering from.

It was when you finally fell asleep, exhausted from crying and almost entirely drunk, that Kiara finally called JJ. She left you tucked in her bed, going into the bathroom and locking the door as she sat on the closed toilet to call him. It was nearing three in the morning but he answered anyway, immediately asking if she had heard from you.

“She took off toward her house and it’s not like I can call her or something. I followed her to her yard but I was worried her parents would see me.” JJ had hastily explained. He’d thought about going back later but when he did your mom was in the yard and he didn’t want to chance it.

“She’s here.” Kiara replied, voice low so her parents did come snooping when they heard voices. Her mom had been dying to get some kind of gossip out of you when you first showed up.

“John B told her about the bet.”

“Did you explain that you gave the money back?” She asked.

“I…I just kinda got into it with John B.” He admitted. “In my defense though, she didn’t let me explain!” He knew it wasn’t your fault, you were upset, but thinking that it’d been him, by proxy, that had hurt you like that had his stomach turning.

“I’m pretty sure finding out that the first guy you’ve ever dated or had feelings for was using you for a bet would be kind of traumatizing JJ! She doesn’t really wanna talk to anyone, she barely explained what happened, she just keeps saying how stupid she feels.” Kiara replied.

“I just need to talk to her.”

“Maybe just, give it some time?” She suggested.

“I don’t have time.” JJ replied, pulling at strands of his hair as he combed his fingers through it. “She’s eighteen in a week. Her parents set her up with this guy from Tennessee and she’s going be engaged on her birthday. I can’t let her go through with it.”

“That’s part of her life JJ, I mean, that’s what her family believes-“

“She deserves more than that!”

“And you can provide this? I don’t wanna be that bitch Jay but, seriously? You can provide something for her that’s better than, at least, some security. Something worth giving up her entire family for?” Kiara asked. She knew she sounded awful but she couldn’t help questioning him. The last thing she wanted was you trapped into a life you didn’t want but JJ playing like everything would be rainbows and good times if you left was impractical.

“I have a plan.”

“And what exactly, is that?”

“Look, I don’t fucking need you getting all high and mighty!” JJ spat, pissed as it was. Kiara had the nerve to tell him not to make such a big deal about sex but she could turn around and bitch him out for wanting to ‘interfere with your life’. He knew she was just trying to be a decent friend to you but he didn’t want her input, he just wanted her to put you on the phone.

“You’re playing with her life here Jay…if she chooses you, if you apologize and she gets back together with you…she will never get to speak to her family again. Is that what you want?” She questioned, “to have her ostracized from her family.”

“I want her to be happy.” JJ replied, “and to know that none of this was fake.”

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keeptheotherone · 3 years

Photo

Mecation: Day 1

Thursday

I once read social media described as an indulgence of the fantasy that others are interested in the details of our lives. I’m indulging in that fantasy this week by blogging about my Mecation under the guise of travel blogging ;)

If you follow me in even the most casual way, you know I’m a nurse. While I’ve enjoyed the vast majority of my 23 years as such, I don’t recommend it during a pandemic. The last 18 months have been the second-worst mental health period of my life, demoted to that position not because of the mildness of my symptoms but simply because at 15 I didn’t have the experience or perspective to realize my life was not, in fact, ruined forever.

COVID increased my personal vulnerability as a high-risk patient and made my job immensely more difficult in countless ways both small and large, but the worst part of the pandemic for me (so far) is it took away all my coping mechanisms precisely when I needed them most. Massage, pedicures, dinner out with friends, travel ... all gone practically overnight. Pre-COVID I travelled all the time--home to my parents’, long weekends by myself (Mecation!), annual visits to BFFs, conferences, tourism, the beach, my birthday, writing trips, international trips ... I always had at least one trip in the works, usually one booked and one (or more!) in the planning stages.

When COVID started, all my close friends and family except for two lived out of state. One of those two was out of town but close enough to get together, but the other was a few hours’ drive away. I’m single and live alone; it was the most isolated I’ve ever been in my whole life.

With my bestest friends over 500 miles away, I still feel that way sometimes. I haven’t seen them in a year. If it weren’t for COVID, it would only be 7 or 8 months (I’ve gone every January or February since ... forever). Then again, if it weren’t for COVID, I wouldn’t have been there last September; one had been hospitalized and I needed to see she was all right with my own two eyeballs. I expect it will be at least another 7 or 8 months before we get together again, bringing the total to about 20 months. One year we saw each other 5 times in 9 months, our personal best since college.

I was alone on Christmas. Oh, I’ve spent December 25th on my own before; I’m a nurse. I’ve worked the night of the 24th or the 25th (or both), or whatever combination that didn’t leave enough time off to drive home. But I’ve never spent the Christmas season without my parents. Sometimes the week before, sometimes the week after, sometimes at my place instead of home, but always together. But last Christmas COVID was raging, the vaccines had just come out but were only available to first responders (I got mine on the 23rd), and my elderly parents didn’t feel safe to travel. So I spent Christmas without family.

Travel was not just a break from my daily routine and the stress of nursing; in many ways, the biggest benefit travel made to my mental and emotional health was giving me something to look forward to. Proverbs 13:12 says, “Hope deferred makes the heart sick,” and ohhh, I was so heartsick last year! Not being able to travel meant I couldn’t visit my best friends of almost 25 years (more than half my life!). Not being able to travel meant I couldn’t lean on my dad or be hugged by my mom. Not being able to travel--and not knowing when I could travel--left this gaping hole in my future, and I had nothing to fill it with.

I tell you this not to throw a pity party but to explain the significance of the trip I’m on right now. It is only my third this year: my dad and I spent a week in the mountains in February (my depression and anxiety was so bad then that was treatment, not vacation), I took a friend to the beach over my birthday, and now I’m a couple hours from home at a nice spa hotel. (I’m not counting my nephew’s graduation, which was emotionally challenging for multiple reasons, or helping a friend move from Florida. Moving is never fun.)

I started planning this trip in the spring ... May, maybe? You know, after the vaccine rolled out to everyone and case counts were dropping and it looked like we were gonna lick this thing and have a quasi-normal summer by the Fourth of July (yes, I’m American. That date is a proper noun here.). I had switched jobs in November (don’t ask) and gone on mental health leave December 29th, so I felt I owed it to my unit to put in about six months of work before taking any significant time off, especially since I came back at 24 hours instead of 36. That meant September.

I knew what I wanted to do: 4 or 5 days at an all-inclusive resort in the Caribbean. I’d been before and loved the freedom of not worrying about every little expenditure (what can I say, I’m cheap), and a few days of Vitamin Sea sounded perfect.

Then came Delta.

All right, maybe going out of the country isn’t the best idea, I thought. Don’t want to end up with expensive reservations and then your destination closes to Americans, or you make it to your chosen island but can’t get back home. But I didn’t want to fly (ugh, airports!), I didn’t want to drive (rest stops and restaurants and gas stations), and while I thought about taking the train, it didn’t seem much of an improvement (and maybe a downgrade) on flying.

Then a friend mentioned a sleeper car, and I thought yes! That could work! I’ve never been to New England, I want to go to Boston, that area of the country has low case rates and the highest vaccination rates, this has potential!

Then I looked at the CDC map. There were only four states that didn’t have high transmission at that time (early August, I think; I’d had to wait for confirmation that my time off had been approved): Michigan, Rhode Island, Maine, and New Hampshire. All four had substantial rates of transmission. Hardly ideal, but one thing I’ve learned this year is sometimes you have to make compromises to protect your mental health. It is true it doesn’t matter if you’re happy if you’re dead; it is also true it doesn’t matter if you’re safe if you want to kill yourself. (I’m not suicidal, I am receiving treatment, don’t anybody panic.)

So, now I’ve settled on Maine or New Hampshire by train via sleeper car (Michigan is too far for a 4-5 day trip and RI--meh). Well, as I got deeper into planning, turned out Maine or NH were awfully far too. Far enough I would have to overnight in a major city, which pretty much defeated the purpose of isolating in a sleeper car. Then I found out there were no sleeper cars on either train route.

So, now vacation is 5 weeks away and I’m back at square one. The Deep South, Texas, and Florida are imploding. Pediatric cases are rising--kids are sicker and make up a higher percentage of cases than they did last year. Scuttlebutt from my ICU colleagues is it’s bad--17/30 MICU beds are COVID and they’re all vented. SICU is being nicknamed “the ECMO unit.” The hospital has 18(!) ECMO machines and 12 are in use; the float nurse who tells us that didn’t even know we had 12 because she’s never seen that many in use at one time. Hospital-wide our numbers are equivalent to early February (we peaked in January). There were six--SIX--pediatric rapid responses in one day.

And I’m going to travel.

It’s a big deal ... a big accomplishment, really, because of what it says about how I’m successfully managing my anxiety. April 1 was the first time I’d been inside a grocery store in more than a year ... and that wasn’t my idea. It was late April or May before I was comfortable eating in restaurants, even with the falling case count at the time. I’m still not sure if I’m managing my anxiety or reacting to the pressure by going to the opposite extreme (I have a history of that), but I know I’m less stressed, less anxious, have fewer obsessive thoughts, fewer physical symptoms, and am learning to live with this disease.

So, here I sit at a marble-topped 5-foot-wide desk in my queen/queen hotel room at the end of a productive and enjoyable day. I slept in, completed the big goal of this weekend’s to-do list that I honestly thought would take several days, unpacked and organized my room (I arrived yesterday evening), reorganized my Favorites Bar and Bookmarks on my Mac, had an 80-minute aromatherapy massage, enjoyed a shower in the spa afterwards and even blow-dried my hair(!) before wandering around for a while to get the lay of the land and get some steps in (this place is huge!). Then I changed clothes and took myself out to dinner for my favorite food, Italian.

That’s me in the picture up top, all dressed up :) Actually, I probably look pretty normal to y’all; like most people with depression, my personal hygiene sunk to new lows in the last year and a half, and as a low-maintenance person to begin with, that’s saying a lot. I bought that necklace as a bridesmaid and am not sure I’ve worn it since; this spring was her 10th anniversary. Yesterday I took out the cat-shaped earrings Dad gave me for Christmas. (Yes, they were gross. Yes, I cleaned them. Yes, I’m wearing them again now.) Just wearing a nice top, fixing my hair (no ponytail or claw-clip bun, my staples), and adding jewelry was a big deal ... especially since “no one” was going to see me. I did it just for me, to make myself feel good. And I did. (That’s another small pleasure COVID took away from me--lip gloss. If I wore any makeup at all, it was lipstick or gloss. Utterly pointless when you’re masked whenever you’re in public.)

I took my laptop to dinner and edited a couple chapters of my new Charlie/Amy fic (previewed during #ktoo turns 10), ran a couple errands, and headed back to the hotel since I don’t like to be out late by myself in an unfamiliar city. Forgot I put my receipt envelope in the backseat pocket and reorganized the glove compartment looking for it, then gathered a bunch of returns into a bag in the trunk. Hung out writing in the lobby until my Mac threatened to die, came upstairs and tidied up, put on my jammies, and talked to you guys :)

#ktoo travels #covid coping #mental health #about ktoo #ktoo nurses #herself

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cafedanslanuit · 4 years

Text

Just a little bit of your heart || Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

I don't ever tell you how I really feel / 'Cause I can't find the words to say what I mean / (...) I know I'm not your only / But I'll still be a fool 'cause I'm a fool for you

a/n: I wasn’t thinking on writing a second part but since you asked so nicely, I came up with two extra chapters! Hope you like this one <3 I will be posting the final chapter in the next few days. tagging the ones who asked for part 2 ~ @loeybk @animemelanie360

Part One || Part Two || Part Three

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 .❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 .❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 .❀。• *₊°。

Kirishima had tried his best not to let Bakugou know but news travelled fast, faster than he had anticipated. Whispers about you dating a girl from the Support Class quickly got to Bakugou. He didn’t comment on it, but Kirishima noticed how much rougher he got on training that day, and how his hands would let out tiny clouds of smoke out of the blue, making him think that all those comments were still around Bakugou’s head.

Bakugou hadn’t tried talking to you again and you hadn’t either. Deciding it was a deserving end for such an unfulfilling love story, you had decided to move on and finally accepted a proposal from a girl that you had met through Yaoyorozu during lunch time. She was kind and sweet, a harsh change from the last relationship you had been it. She had invited you to the cinema and then to a tiny coffee shop where you discussed the movie. You found yourself laughing easily at her jokes and once the date ended, you could see yourself seeing that girl again.

Weeks went by where you tried your best to focus all your energy on her rather than your ex. If you were damned to see each other other until you graduated, you had to start working on making his presence not mean a thing. You hadn’t found much success in the last three weeks, but you knew it had to happen someday.

It was a Thursday morning during Aizawa’s class when you felt your phone vibrating in your jacket pocket. You ignored it, but a minute after, you felt it again. Making sure Aizawa wasn’t looking at you, you took it out and put it under your desk.

‘hey, how’s your day going?’

‘right sorry you should be in class. i’m too, but i’m bored and i thought of u<3’

You couldn’t help but smile at the cute texts she had sent you. You replied to her and didn’t have to wait long for another reply. It went by for few minutes until you saw your sensei’s binding cloth snatching the phone away from your hands. You watched in horror as it flew straight to Aizawa’s hands, where he took a look at the screen.

“If you rather chat with your girlfriend than be in my class, don’t waste my time” he said. You felt your face turning red and wished your classmates weren’t looking at you as they were doing at the moment. “In fact, why don’t you text her again. Tell her you can’t make it today since you have to clean Gym Gamma all by yourself. No quirks” Aizawa added with a sick smile. You nodded, embarrassed and put your phone in your backpack. You couldn't believe you were going to be grounded for something as stupid as texting during classes. The worst part was Aizawa was right. You really had set yourself up for this.

Just as you thought the class could continue and your nightmare was over, Aizawa turned again to look at you, a chill running across your spine.

“My bad, not alone. Bakugou has to stay too because he doesn’t seem to understand what the difference between training and attempted murder is yet” he shot an angry glare at the named student, who just looked down to his notebook. You remembered noticing Bakugou being extra rough in training the last few days, but tried not to give it much thought.

You sighed and started taking notes again.

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

Right after training, everyone started leaving the gym. Midoriya gave you an apologetic smile as he tried to help you a bit with cleaning, quickly being discouraged by Aizawa’s scary look. You assured him you would be fine and watched him leave. Jirou and Momo asked you if they should wait for you outside U.A. but you told them there was no need. You would see each other the next day in class, and you probably would just want to take a shower and go back home once you were done.

You took a broom and started sweeping the floor in silence, looking at Bakugou as he did the same. The two didn’t talk to each other as you did so. Time seemed to have stopped, in the worst way possible. As you kept doing your chore, you thought about how you could be in a cute date instead of sweeping your classmate’s sweat if you had ignored the messages and waited until lunch to talk to her. You mentally cursed yourself for your actions. If there was anything worse about being stuck with that chore, was being stuck with him.

Once you were done, you both went to the storage room, were you started arranging the items that had been used in class, putting the items back in the shelves. You saw Bakugou grabbing his backpack and walking towards the door.

“Hey, we’re not done” you warned him. He stopped and turned to look at you, disgust written on his features.

“I cleaned the gym. I’m done”

“This counts as cleaning the gym, you think I’m doing this because I like to?” you replied, your hands on your hips.

“You’d be stupid like that” he said, before rolling his eyes and resuming his pace.

“What the fuck is your problem? Be a man and accept I dumped you”. Bakugou stopped again and turned around, laughing. His laugh was cold, much colder than anytime you’ve heard him.

“I have. And without the need to hold onto a fucking extra like you did”.

“It’s rich for you to mocking the fact I’m dating again instead of asking yourself why I left you in the first place. Work on your fucking feelings, Bakugou, it seems you can’t even do training well. Isn’t that why you’re here?” you challenged him. Bakugou dropped his backpack to the ground and walked towards you.

“Wanna say that again?” he threatened.

“I’m saying you’re so emotionally stupid you couldn’t keep your girlfriend” you countered, not backing down.

“Why do you even think you were worth keeping around?” Bakugou snarled. Your fierce facade fell apart, his words hitting you deep.

“You’re an asshole” you muttered, grabbing back one of the training items and putting it back to its place. You tried your best to focus on organizing, you weren’t going to let him get away with hurting you again.

“Well, that says more about you than me” he scoffed.

“You know? It does” you agreed. “I spent so much time with someone who didn’t love me, surely that says something about how low I was willing to fall for some dick”

Bakugou’s hand grabbed your elbow, forcing you to turn around and face him. Beneath his anger, you could see a glimpse of hurt. You let that thought go. No, Bakugou wasn’t the type to get hurt by words, much less your own.

“Well, you sure don’t seem to settle for dick anymore”

“Is it so hard to believe a girl can be healthier for me than you?” you raised your eyebrow at him.

“What it’s hard to believe it’s someone can actually stand you” Bakugou smirked. You wanted to get back at him, but knew it would be repeating the cycle of hurt you had already established since you had split up. He would say something hurtful, you would try to hurt him back and he retaliated. It was tiring and you were done with it.

“Let me go, I’ll finish this by myself” you muttered, jerking your arm away from Bakugou. Instead of releasing you, his grip only grew harsher. “I said let go”. He looked at your for a few moments and then he finally let go.

“Fine. Have fun playing with your new toy. See how long this one lasts” he scoffed.

Bakugou didn’t expect to slapped.

“What the fuck!?” he yelled, his hand going to his cheek. “I let you go!”

“You don’t get to say I’m playing around. If you were too incapable of saying you loved me, fine! But I don’t play around with people and I certainly didn’t play around with you, dumbass. You’re impossible, fuck!” you breathed heavily. Bakugou just looked at you in silence. You had tried to stop a confrontation from happening, but now you were way past your earlier intentions. “All I wanted was for you to say you loved me. That was it. But you didn’t want to, or you couldn’t and now we’re here. I’ve accepted I couldn’t change that about you, but don’t talk like I’m the broken one out of us both”.

You felt tears streaming down your face, both anger and sadness drowning you. Bakugou stayed silent, his refusal to say something back doing nothing more than filling your body with rage. You punched Bakugou’s chest, his body not even moving at how little impact it made. Frustrated, you went again. And again. And again.

“Why couldn’t you say it?!” you cried. “Why the fuck can’t you tell me how you feel!? Tell me you hate me, I don’t even care. Just speak”.

Bakugou just looked down, taking every hit you were giving. You tried pushing him back, taking a few steps back yourself as you failed.

“Just tell me what you feel!” you pleaded. His eyes were still glued to the floor, his mouth twisted in a snarl.

“Why the fuck can’t you say something!? Say something, goddammit! Speak, Katsuki!” you yelled, marking each sentence with another punch on his chest.

“I don’t know how!” Bakugou finally growled, grabbing you by your wrists. You wrestled against him for a few moments but then desisted, knowing he had more raw physical strength than you.

“Think again, that’s a lame excuse and you know it” you spat, feeling his hold on your wrists tightening. Bakugou showed his teeth, his anger getting the best of him.

“You make me feel like a fucking moron!” he screamed against your face. “That’s how I fucking feel! I don’t feel composed, I don’t feel like a winner, I feel like a fucking extra whenever you walk by and don’t look my way”

You stared at him, your eyes filling with tears again. Anger was still flooding your veins, pushing you to activate your quirk and start an actual fight with your past lover.

“You wanted the truth!?” he continued. “Here it is: I never told you how I felt because I can’t fucking understand it. All I know is I’m a cunt who would do anything you asked me to".

“Except telling me you loved me” you grunted. He harshly let go of your arms, pushing them away from him.

“What the fuck does that even mean!? Tell me, what’s the point of saying I love you if I don’t understand what that means. You wanted me so bad to say it, like it meant anything. What does me saying ‘I love you’ guarantees you, huh?” he asked, taking steps forward as you walked backwards. You back finally hit the wall, your expression turning into a confused one. “If I don’t understand what I’m saying, it means shit! But hey, wanna know how loving you feels like? What it really feels like? It’s fucking hell! I can’t control it, I can’t make it go away and I fucking wish I could!”

Before he could continue, you grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him close, crashing your lips against his. Bakugou kissed you back, pushing his tongue against your mouth, his hands grabbing each side of your face as he did. You bit his lower lips until he growled, letting him do the same, secretly loving the way your swollen lips felt once he was done. His hands never left your cheeks, not even when his whole body pressed against you as his mouth kept moving against yours. Your ran your fingers through his hair, intoxicating yourself with the feeling as you yanked him even closer.

After a few moments, Bakugou finally pulled away, resting his forearms on the wall above your shoulders. He panted against your face, your hands settling on his shoulders. You pressed his lips against his again, but this time for a much softer kiss. Bakugou broke the kiss again, closing his eyes.

“Are you with her? Like… a couple” Bakugou whispered, his breath hitting your face. You shook your head with a whimper.

“We’re just going out on dates” you sighed, your eyes searching for his. When he finally set his vermillion eyes on you, you felt a lump on your throat. “I love you, Katsuki”

“Why?”

“Why?” you repeated, confused. Bakugou broke eye contact for a moment, looking down and then set his eyes on you again. You let out a dry laugh, feeling the pressure increase around your throat. “Because I don’t believe in unconditional love. I believe loving someone is not accepting their changes but encouraging them. And you… you make me want to be better. A better hero. You’re always pushing me to train harder, to endure the pain, to keep going. You challenge me, Katsuki. I love that. It’s like… you believe in me or something.”

“Why is it so easy for you to say that?” Bakugou asked, a pained look on his face.

“It’s not” you shook your head. Your eyes filled with tears again, you felt them running down your cheek as you chose your next words. “But I didn’t come up with them in one day. I thought about loving you and why I did that for quite some time. I want that for you too. You… need to understand what you feel for me, besides frustration. And when you do… you let me know, okay? But I can’t--” your voice broke a little and you sniffed, trying to get yourself together, even if tears were falling again. “It feels wrong for me to be with you when you’re still trying to figure out what love means to you”.

You both fell silent again. As you tried to regulate your breathing to stop crying, you felt Bakugou’s thumb wiping your tears away. You stayed like that for a couple of minutes, drowning in the presence of each other, wanting things to be different, easier, simpler.

“Okay” he exhaled. “Just…” his thumb set on your chin softly. “Give me a minute. Right now… I’d rather have this than nothing at all” he whispered. You pretended not to notice how his voice broke at the end of the sentence as he fell onto your lips again. Maybe he was right. Maybe a little love was better than none.

#bakugou katsuki #bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha #bnha #bnha imagines #bnha scenarios #bnha fanfiction

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royalstorm · 3 years

Text

better off * xiaoqing // ; xiao x keqing //

content warning : pda, negative thought patterns

Xiao's infatuation is not a slow boil. His heartbreak is.

It's a realization that had dawned on him months ago. He vowed to himself to keep it tucked away, on the backburner left to simmer. To worry about an uncertain future would be to neglect the demands of the present, is what he told himself. He had believed it. He had been pretty convincing back then.

Then, last week...November 20.

In the air that day was a hum of excitement, one that persisted in spite of his itching ears. The people amongst him, too—grinning, giggling, resonating on a frequency that he was tone deaf to.

Even the thrumming in his own chest was akin to a death march.

Her voice had been his only saving grace—the symphony stringing away con brio, above all the noise. And when he offered her his present — clumsily wrapped, barely held together with a ribbon — she graced him with a "thank you" that silenced the discontent in his mind — the darkness in his heart — if only for a moment.

But that same night, the realization Xiao had forced down all those months ago resurfaced, bubbling with a vengeance. How he wished he had just rested, instead of patrolling where he had not been needed. Maybe then, he wouldn't have had to stand testament to the tragedy he came upon on Mt. Tianheng. It was a simple tragedy, but a tragedy nevertheless.

Raining down on him, like a hailstorm, were three eagles — all skewered by a singular, steely arrow.

It was when they reached ground zero — nothing short of battered, bloody feathers at his feet — that it was he who'd taken a shot to the chest.

Memento mori.

"Remember you must die."

Remember she must die.

Flash forward to the adeptus' current state: a state of motion. Running. Practically flying. For the past thousand or so years, all he knew to do was stay still. Physically, he was and continues to be on the move. Evil never sleeps, after all.

But spiritually and emotionally, where it truly mattered, he had been complacent: to the shifting sands, to the rising tides, to the erosion of Liyue's many mountain ranges.

It's useless, he chides himself. A loud thwack! punctures the air as he descends, polearm first, from a rooftop to the cobblestone ground below. He rises from his squat form to better regard his surroundings.

To think that the esteemed Yuheng of the Liyue Qixing would willingly live somewhere ordinary...remote, even. Indeed, he's still roaming the streets of Liyue Harbor, but he would've been fooled quite easily had someone told him differently.

"I don't care to live lavish, even if it's something I am able to afford," is what she told him once, when they were discussing philosophy. "Once in a while, it does you no harm to treat yourself, but it feels ... unnecessary flaunting that which so many can’t have themselves, and—" She had chuckled here. "—Never mind. You get my point, don’t you?”

Xiao keeps that thought at the forefront of his mind as he nears the front door. Upon reaching it, he silently thanks the archons for her residence's ease of access: on the first floor and as one of the very first units of the complex.

Lifting a hand, he knocks once...twice...

The door handle on the opposite end almost immediately rattles in response.

"Xiao?"

Keqing's voice is a colorful blend of concerned and (pleasantly) surprised. She fidgets with what looked to be an empty rice bowl in her hands.

"Keqing," he acknowledges, amber eyes suddenly skittering to the ground. Ignoring the heat rising to his cheeks, he follows up with, "My apologies for the unexpected visit. I hope you don't mind."

From his periphery, Xiao can see that she's still fiddling with the bowl — shifting it, inclining it, turning it upside down and right back up. He isn't sure what it means.

"No, of course I don't mind," she reassures him. Even as his eyes avoid hers, he can tell she's being earnest. Something soft and warm to the touch permeates the fabric of his glove. Eyes darting to the side, he sees her hand clasping his — on the verge of tugging him her way.

The "come inside" catches in Keqing's breath as the adeptus simply allows himself to be ushered in. Bowl now nestled solely in her other hand, she shuts the door closed with a foot. His hand still in hers, she then leads him down the main corridor and into the kitchen, where she'd been enjoying a late night dinner.

They seat themselves in her dining room, chairs directly across one another's. He ignores the arrangement of food scattering the table in favor of examining the rest of her home. The walls are relatively bare, save for two swords displayed in their respective racks front and center. Most, if not all, of the furniture looks decent enough—nothing too gaudy or flashy, though nothing secondhand, either—but even their presence is minimal ... underwhelming for a common civilian, let alone an aristocrat.

"Sorry if you were expecting something more grand." Keqing's voice rustles him from his observations.

Xiao rekindles the will to look her in the eyes. He attempts to ignore the dark circles weighing them down. "There is no need for you to apologize. I quite like your home, actually." When she chances a dubious brow in his direction, he adds, "It seems comfortable."

Keqing exhales a breath that is half scoff, half laugh. “Great save.” She props herself up on the dinner table and begins adding contents from each dish into her bowl. Xiao watches her from his periphery, realizing that this may have been one of the first times he’d seen her eat.

“You are free to help yourself to whatever you please.”

This time, he visibly flinches — once again, roused by the Yuheng’s voice.

“I will have to politely decline.” And before she can protest, he follows up with, “Adepti do not require the same amount of nourishment needed by human beings.”

Keqing’s shoulders roll into a lazy shrug. The sound of chopsticks scraping porcelain rings in the air. “So be it. Just know that the offer is yours for the taking whenever.”

For the next few minutes, the pair sits in silence — one that is only curtailed by the occasional sound of Keqing’s chopsticks against her bowl. Silences between them have been comfortable, for the most part...perhaps not in the beginning — back when they could not yet see eye to eye, back when they found faults within each other, back when they could not acknowledge those same faults within themselves — but that tension came to pass the moment their fondness for each other began to bloom...as friends and then, eventually, as...more.

Tonight, the silence feels especially oppressive, perhaps even more so than it did when they first got acquainted with one another. And as it continues to crescendo, looming over them like gallows, Xiao can only assume that she feels similarly.

”Keqing–“

”Why have you come here tonight?”

Xiao freezes, stunned. Consider the image of a deer in the headlights — not only only the fear and the wide eyes, but the acceptance of a certain, untimely fate. In hindsight, it’s foolish for him to react so severely. Hadn’t he paid her this visit for a pressing reason?

Or perhaps he still didn’t want to accept that pressing reason himself?

He’s too quiet. He hesitates for too long. He is always too quiet and hesitating for too long. The sound of a bowl settling atop mahogany, chopsticks following suit, fills his ears. With bated breath, the adeptus feels her presence shift from the seat across his to standing right beside him.

It takes everything in him not to pivot.

“Xiao.” Keqing’s voice is firmer now...still gentle, but far more stalwart in intention. His eyes glaze over briefly, searching hers, finding in them the stubborn concern he’d grown to cherish so much.

When he still offers her no reply, she lifts a hand to his arm, fingers gently running over the exposed skin. “I know you aren’t just here for the sake of being here.” Keqing continues skimming his arm with that feather light touch, just barely cognizant of the slight bumps left in its wake. “After all, it’s a Thursday night. You know better than anyone that I like to spend these nights in solitude.” Her hand halts upon contacting his bird bone wrist.

The adeptus feels his mouth dry at the tenderness of it all, sucking in a breath once her fingertips stop at his wrist, a hair shy out of his reach. He wonders if intimacy would always feel this...strange. Exhilarating. Or was this merely her Vision’s power at work? She is an Electro user, after all...

“Please talk to me.” There’s a meek lilt in Keqing’s voice that coerces Xiao to not only look up, but to also maintain his hold on her gaze. How pathetic, the way he can stare at hell itself square in the eye but could barely muster the courage to expend even a glance her way.

“I–“ Pause. Falter. Swallowing thickly, Xiao rises from his seat. He slowly takes the hand adorning his wrist into his own — intertwining the fingers one by one, marveling at how perfectly they fit together.

Then, bowing his head and releasing a sigh, he finds the courage to speak his piece — to voice his pressing reason...

“You are better off without me.”

Xiao feels the hand in his go limp.

”What? What do you mean?” There’s an incredulity that leaks into the Yuheng’s tone that he isn’t familiar with. He doesn’t like it.

”I am not worthy of you, Keqing. What we have, it cannot be.” What vile things to say. What vile, disgusting things. The words lapping his tongue taste almost as bitter as the blood he’d once shed, so he does exactly what he did all those years ago.

He gulps it down.

”You deserve better. You deserve the world. I don’t say this with the intention of discrediting myself. But I–“ Xiao trembles in spite of himself. He feels her other hand cup the small of his back. “–I am not capable of offering you all that you deserve, or even half of that amount.”

He doesn’t quite know how he sounds at that moment, let alone how he looks, but as he feels Keqing’s arms adjust to wrap around his frame, he figures it can’t be good.

”I don’t understand you sometimes,” she whispers into the crook of his neck. “You say you don’t mean to sell yourself short, yet that’s exactly what it sounds like you are doing.” She squeezes him softly before leaning further into the embrace. “Besides, who are you to tell me what I do and do not deserve? Who is anyone to decide that? Shouldn’t that decision be mine and mine alone?”

Whenever she talks like that, Xiao finds it difficult to fathom her mortality...to grasp the idea that she would one day be nothing but ashes at his feet. Yet, as he holds her, and as she holds him, her breath, her small frame, and the bray of her human heart become all the more clear to him.

”I suppose you’re right. Forgive me. This is novel territory for someone such as myself.” The adeptus feels her form loosen as she chuckles. He rests his chin upon her shoulder. “But still, I can’t help but feel that the life you lead has far more meaning than mine.”

Xiao withdraws from their embrace, if only to get a full glimpse of her face. Noticing the hints of tears pooling at the corner of one eye, he takes a thumb and lightly brushes it away.

”But you are the protector of Liyue, handpicked by Rex Lapis himself.”

Classic Keqing. Always so quick to counter him. He begins trailing his thumb down her cheek — slowly, softly. Her eyes reflexively draw closed. “While that may be so, my time here knows no limits. I can afford to be complacent. But you–“ Xiao pauses again. At this point, his thumb is bordering the curve of her jaw and her bottom lip. “–Your time in this world is finite. As a result, you cannot afford to spend it with regrets.” Now, it’s his turn to shut his eyes. He bows his head again. “I fear that may come to pass if you continue to involve yourself with me.”

The Yuheng allows her eyes to flutter half-open. She too bows her head, if to just press her forehead to his. “You don’t know that for sure.” Lifting a hand, she rests it on top of his. She prods his thumb so that it rests on the flush red of her lip, right where it meets her skin. “Even knowing the fate of our bond, much of the future is still uncertain.”

Xiao‘s head dips lower. Their noses brush. He can feel her breath hitch. “I understand that better than most. Nothing in this world is completely certain. Even the word of our gods is something that, at times, must be taken with a grain of salt.” He almost smiles saying that. You taught me this yourself. His thumb begins gingerly grazing her bottom lip. “But wouldn’t you want to pursue that which would yield you the most certainty?” Xiao can sense his feelings going awry once more. He breathes deeply and prolongs the exhale that follows, as if to ground himself. “That includes entering a relationship with...another mortal. Someone who can provide for you. Someone who is always present. Someone...whose love will not be lost to the whims of time.” He sighs in spite of himself, consciously commanding that his voice stay as level as possible. “Is that not what you want?”

Not even a second elapses before Keqing scoffs. Whether it’s ironic or not is completely lost on the adeptus, but what he does know for sure is the feeling of his other hand being claimed by hers — of it being lifted to her face, of it cupping her cheek.

”Do you even hear yourself right now? I’m not sure whether to call you foolish or stubborn, but that doesn’t matter right now.” She releases a breath. “What matters is you knowing, with absolute certainty, that no, isn’t at all what I want.” Keqing’s face nears his even more so. Lips, parted. Eyes, half-lidded. Xiao’s thumb moves to frame the curve of her chin.

”What I want is you.” Their lips brush for a fraction of a second. Her breath is a strange comfort, hot in his mouth. “Xiao, I choose you. For better or for worse. I want to spend this lifetime with you ... and if not that, then at the very least, every second of the time we’ve been allotted with each other. Nothing can hope to alter those facts — nothing except how you decide to proceed with this information.”

He opts to respond by, at long last, closing the last bit of distance that separates them. Lips pressed against lips, body pressed against body, hands pressed against hands.

They need not talk even after they pull away from each other, the tingling in their lips and blush sweeping their cheeks speaking volumes for themselves. Moments later, they’re close again – practically insoluble as they envelope the other in their arms, as their heads settle warmly atop each other’s shoulder.

There, they stay for a while.

There, they reconcile with their comfortable silence.

#he/him pronouns bc this is reference to 'canon' xiao but i had audie in mind when i wrote this #i said i was gonna write xiaoqing so #have a refurbished fic i typed up last month #i hate how cheesy this is but whatever!!!!#pda //#xiaoqing //#* RE : GUARDIANYAKSHA / sometimes we cannot bear the thing that we crave .#* CHARA. STUDY / waiting ; seething ; blooming .#* WRITING / my wit ? as sharp as keqing's sword .

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cicici03 · 4 years

Text

Who You Goin To Choose- Chapter 2

Finally I have update “ Who You Goin To Choose”. If you need a refresher, I have Chapter 1 link below!!

Chapter 1

How I felt after I wrote this chapter:

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“ Babygirl you not happy to see me?” Dominique asked Kia as he let go of her.

Kia was in shocked about seeing Dominique standing right in front of her. Kia looked over to her father to see him looking outside the window at the strip.

“ Daddy, what is this?” Kia asked with her voice going up while walking over to Ernest’s desk. Ernest looks at his daughter.

“ Well it seem like that Dominique is here because his cousin’s husband is facing your husband.” Ernest quietly said in a monotone voice.

Kia walked over to her dad. Looking him in the eye.

“ Daddy, I know what you are doing. I already doing the one thing you tell me to do, but I am not leaving Florian!” Kia yelled at her dad while pointing at him.

Sean, Ross, and Alexis were shocked by what they saw because Kia never stood up to Ernest. Ernest cleared his throat and looked at his only daughter.

“ Well you don’t have too, but remember I told you that the man is going to take all of your money if you got pregnant or after he was done having jungle fever. So with that, I will make sure that I will take you out of the family account so he don’t take mines too.” Ernest said with calmness in his voice.

Kia, eyes blurry with tears, looked at her father. Kia ran out of his office and went to hers.

Ernest turn his head to Dominique and nod for her to go after her. As he did that, he went back into his seat behind his desk.

“ I can’t believe you going to give her an ultimatum. You know she loves Florian, and you going to make her choose on building her own family or biological family. Then you bring the same man that cheated on her, treated her like trash, made her get rid of a baby, and top it off gave her an STD!” Sean yelled to his father with his deep voice.

Sean started to laughed.

“ You are dirty! Plus, I bet you never told her the money Momma left to us!” Sean snickered while looking at his father, which Ernest had his head down.

Sean left out of the office and went to his own to cool down. Ross looked at his dad and went out shaking his head.

With that, it only left Alexis and Ernest.

Alexis wanted to say something, but she couldn’t tell Ernest how to raise his own kids.

Even though Alexis knew Kia strongly dislike her.

She wanted to help her.

Alexis looked at Ernest as he was typing away on his computer.

As Alexis walked out, she realized that she going to have get into family business even though she knew Kia would be highly upset.

Alexis walk to the elevator and press the button to go down.

She looked around, and saw through Kia’s glass office window, Dominquie rubbing her back while she cried.

He was whispering sweet nothings into her ear, and Alexis could see that Kia was falling for them.

She shook her head as the elevator door open.

Even though Kia may hate her after what she is about to do.

She is trying to save Kia’s marriage.

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Thursday, 6:00 p.m.

“Uau, ador ce a făcut Kia cu locul !” Momma Flo screech while walking into Kia and Florian’s house.

( Wow, I love what Kia did with the place!)

As she was walking in, Florian, Masias, Sandro, and Papa Flo was carrying all the bags that Momma Flo brought .

With that, many of Florian’s relatives and friends followed into the house.

With that, Florian put down the bags and finally relieved to be home.

It took them so long, because Momma Flo didn’t tell him that she invite almost everyone from Romania. With that, Flo had to rent a two more vans to fit everyone and their stuff in.

“Deci, unde este Kia?” Florian’s cousin asked with much excitement. One thing about Florian family, they love everybody in Kia’s family and Kia except for Ernest.

( So where is Kia?)

“Ei bine, probabil că se lasă de la serviciu și se îndreaptă spre casă.” Florian said while sitting on the sofa to play with one of his little cousins.

( “ Well she probably getting off work and heading home.”)

As everybody was getting settle and was talking.

Momma Flo looked at her son and smile.

Seeing him with kids and seeing how happy he was made her happy. She wished that Florian and Kia would hurry up.

However, she knew that Ernest was holding Kia back on it. From the conversations that Florian and Momma Flo had, she could tell that Ernest was trying to keep the two separate.

She really despises that man, because during Florian and Kia’s wedding he was about to object.

Momma Flo was really hoping Kia would stand up to her father, but Kia was just like Momma Flo. A person that loves her father and would do anything to keep her father happy.

Even it means that she will be hurting herself and other people that she loves.

“ Mamă, când vei începe să gătești?” Flo asked while walking towards her. Momma Flo snapped out of her thoughts and looked at her son.

( Momma, when are you going to start cooking?)

“ What?” Flo asked while looking at his mother while drinking his water.

Momma Flo smiled and rubbed her son’s cheek.

“ Nothing,” Momma Flo stated, “ Acum, voi toți oamenii care puteți găti. Vino să mă ajuți!” Momma Flo screamed while taking out pots and pans.

( “ Now all of you people that can cook. Come help me!”)

Flo laughed at his mom. Florian realized that he left something upstairs for his cousin.

He ran up the stairs into his bedroom to get it. As he found it on the coffee table in their room.

Something on the chair caught his attention.

The silver object that was just freshly puncture and was missing a pill.

Florian picked it up.

He knew exactly what it was.

Florian sighed and and looked up at the ceiling.

Florian head was going through so many thoughts and was going all type of crazy.

She really must didn’t want a baby.

Kia has been lying to me.

The one thought that went through his mind really took him.

Ernest has been putting something in her brain.

As Florian, was starting to analyze his last thought, a voice interrupted.

“ Hi Florian.” Alexis quietly spoke seeing that Florian was in deep thought.

Florian look at Alexis and put on a smile. Florian and Alexis was close friends now as they both help each other navigate life with the Ford’s.

“ Hi Alexis, what are you doing here?” Florian asked while sitting down in the chair.

“ Well I.. I want to talk to you about something.” Alexis hesitated said.

Florian pointed towards the chair which Alexis sat in.

“ Well... it’s about Kia.” Alexis said while breathing very frantically.

Florian head turn to her so quickly.

“ Is she on birth control because I found this.” Florian spated out while putting the birth control on the table.

As Alexis was about to say anything, Kia walk through the bedroom door that was close.

Kia looked at Alexis with eyes of fury.

“ What hell is this!” Kia smugly said with her eyes looking at Alexis.

“ Nothing is going on Kia.” Alexis truthfully stuttered out while looking at Kia.

“ Then why was my fucking door close! You are nothing but a hoe!” Kia yelled at Alexis while charging her way.

Before Kia could get to Alexis, Florian stood up in front of her.

“ Now, stop it! I should be asking what the hell is this!” Florian barked at Kia while holding up the birth control.

When Kia saw that, her face drop.

Even though, Alexis thought Kia hid her expression about the birth control.

Florian knew that she was taking it.

“ Alexis, please leave and close the door.” Florian muttered out while still looking at Kia, whom was looking at the birth control in his hand. Alexis quickly left the room and close the door.

As the door close, you could feel the tension in the air.

Kia finally looked at Florian, and she could see the anger written over his face.

“ So, you been lying to me!” Florian screamed at Kia. Kia did what she do best:run.

Kia walked to the closet and started to find some clothes.

“ Are you fucking kidding me Kia! You been fucking lying to me! Then you have the audacity to not look at me!” Florian ran right behind her.

Kia still facing her clothes didn’t turn around to Florian.

Florian chuckled with anger.

“ So I bet your dad had something to deal with this!” Florian shouted again.

Kia took off her dress blouse and skirt to put on so comfortable clothes.

As she got finsih, she turn to Florian, which their eyes met.

“ I don’t want kids Florian!” Kia roared out which hurt her as she said it.

She could see Florian breaking in his eyes even though his face didn’t change. At that moment, it was the air in the room seem like it left.

One thing that was obvious to them both, was that Momma Flo was in the room. She was trying to tell them the food was done, but she got more than she bargain to hear.

“ I’m going to leave for my hair appointment, and I just go to my dad’s house since you have weigh ins tomorrow.” Kia quietly spoken as she grab her purse and left the closet.

Florian was still stucked in the same spot since Kia told him about her not wanting kids.

As Kia got to the door, she saw Momma Flo looking at her with tears in her eyes.

“Kia regândește-te! Florian și tu vei fi părinți buni! Știu că tatăl tău te-a pus la dispoziție pentru această miere! Obișnuiam să fiu tu! Dacă aș fi încă ca tine, nu i-aș fi avut pe Florian și pe Papa Flo în viața mea!” Momma Flo choked out with tears coming down her eyes.

( “ Kia rethink about it! Florian and you will be good parents! I know it was your father that put you up to this honey! I use to be you! If I was still like you, I wouldn’t have had Florian and Papa Flo in my life!”)

Kia looked at her and shooked her head and she left while running out of the house to avoid anybody.

Momma Flo realized that Kia was running from physically, but emotionally. She didn’t want to face that she may lose her dad for her happiness. She also, didn’t want to face that she may lose her husband for her dad’s happiness.

So the only thing she was going to keep doing was running.

However, you sooner or later have to stop running.

—————————————————————

Wow.

Y’all I don’t even have questions for this one because I’m just in schock!!!!!!

Please tell me how you feel by commenting! I love comments good or bad!!!

Please Reblog!

Please Like and Tell Your Friends!!!!

Taglist: @19jammmy @twistedcharismaaa @designerwriterchic @queen-zelieonna @amethyst09 @champagnesugamama @natashacoco @cocobutterqwueen @bvssmob

#florian munteanu x black reader #florian big nasty munteanu #florian munteanu

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hockeylvr59 · 4 years

Text

Positive || Kevin Hayes

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Authors Note: So here’s another new piece (because I can’t seem to finish any of my existing series). Fair warning this one is a little rough emotionally, so you know...take a moment to prepare yourself and then let me know how much you want to kill me after.

Warnings: light smut, ANGST

Word Count: 3,502

~~~~~~

Sitting on an unfamiliar couch with tears streaming down your face was the last thing you wanted to be doing. The next five minutes were going to change your life forever, one way or another. Just the thought of that made it impossible to breathe, your chest tight as you buried your head between your knees. It was only the touch of a soft feminine hand that kept you even a little bit grounded, though that touch could only do much to console you as your world crashed and burned around you.

Thinking back, you wished you could change the events that had led up to this moment.

_____

You’d met Kevin through Jimmy Vesey and the two of you had become fast but casual friends. With you living in Boston while he played in New York and then Winnipeg and then finally Philly, you really didn’t see much of each other during the season. Phone calls were your most frequent form of communication and Kevin regularly called just to check-in or when he wanted to hear your voice after a bad game.

So when Kevin insisted that you join his family on vacation over the all-star break you were shocked. That seemed like a gesture that breached the ‘just friends’ relationship you had. You’d tried to insist that he should just enjoy his time with his family, but Kevin wouldn’t take no for an answer, threatening to fly to Boston to put your ass on a plane himself.

With your own commitments, you’d only been able to take a long weekend off and so you’d flown down to the tropics on Thursday evening, arriving sometime in the early morning hours Friday morning. As soon as you’d reached the front door to the beach house whose address Kevin had texted you, the door was pulled open and a pair of warm and strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you tightly to a muscular chest.

“Y/N! You made it!” Kevin greeted happily, his voice signaling that he had been sleeping until you’d texted him that you were in a cab on your way over. “I’m so glad you’re here.” He added.

“Hey, Kev…” You replied, a yawn slipping from your mouth as you spoke. It had been a fairly long flight but you hadn’t been able to sleep at all so now you were exhausted.

“Come on. I’ll show you to your room.” Kevin stated, clearly picking up on your fatigue. Walking up a set of stairs you were led into an empty bedroom, where Kevin placed the bag he’d taken from you onto the bed.

“Thanks, Kev…” You murmured, yawning once more. You watched him as Kevin draped one arm around you, pulling you into his side as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

“You’re welcome.” He assured you. “We don’t have any plans tomorrow so feel free to sleep in.” He insisted, pulling away from you and running his fingers through his hair. “Sleep tight. We’ll talk tomorrow when you’re actually awake.” He teased, walking across the room where he pulled your door shut behind him.

With little to no energy left in your body, you’d simply stripped down to your underwear before crawling into bed, sleep overtaking you the moment your head hit the pillow.

***

Friday had passed by in a bit of a blur...mostly because you’d spent half your day in bed. Sleeping until your body awoke naturally, it was almost 1 in the afternoon when you glanced at the clock next to your bed. Immediately your bladder signaled its needs and your stomach growled for food, so you pulled yourself out of bed and quickly threw on a pair of shorts and a tank top before slipping out of your room in search of a bathroom and then food.

The moment you’d descended down the stairs, a flurry of activity reached your ears, as did Kevin’s booming voice. You’d just reached the bottom stair when a pair of arms wrapped around your waist and suddenly you were being swung around.

“She lives!” Kevin exclaimed and once he put you down you smacked him gently for scaring you.

“She needs food.” You informed him, only to have him nod and drag you to the kitchen where his mom and sister were making either a late lunch or working on the preparations for dinner. While introducing you to the women in the kitchen, Kevin poured you a bowl of cereal, placing it into your hands before disappearing.

He’d returned a moment later, his nephew in his arms and it was only then that he took a seat across from you at the small table and started chatting away, insisting on hearing about everything you’d been up to since you’d last talked.

The rest of the day was much the same, Kevin introducing you as one of his best friends to his entire family before pulling you from one thing to the other around the beach house. You’d gone swimming, played cornhole with the men, and helped his sister and sister-in-law clean up after a delicious dinner.

Though it had been a very low key day you’d learned one important thing: your attraction to Kevin grew tenfold watching him with his family.

***

Saturday morning had you up at a fairly normal time but when you’d gotten downstairs it was much quieter than it had been the previous day. You’d quickly learned from Kevin’s sister-in-law Kristen that the guys had gone to the golf course and had taken the kids with them and that Kevin had scheduled a spa day for all of the ladies, including you.

After eating a quick breakfast you’d gone to get dressed and ready to leave. It wasn’t until the group of you was in a car headed to the spa that Kevin’s sister had asked what was going on between the two of you. You’d protested, claiming that you and Kevin were just friends but it was clear that his family wasn’t buying it and honestly you couldn’t blame them. It had been one of the many reasons why you’d protested coming on this trip. This was a trip for Kevin and his family and the fact that he’d insisted you join them seemed to scream that he viewed you as more than just a friend. At the same time, as much as you wanted that to be true you knew that it wasn’t and never would be.

Eventually, Kevin’s family had dropped the inquiries about your relationship with him and instead just asked questions wanting to get to know you. It wasn’t long into your spa session before you were laughing with the ladies in Kevin’s life as you got manicures and pedicures. Your individual massage session left you feeling utterly relaxed and by the time you rejoined Kevin’s family after your facial, you were feeling completely spoiled.

It wasn’t until you were being dragged into another room and shoved into a chair to have your hair and makeup done that you realized the true spoiling was only just beginning.

Kevin was taking you out to dinner tonight.

He’d told his family that it was just because he hadn’t had the chance to spend time with you just the two of you but just like this vacation as a whole, it was starting to feel like his explanations were merely thinly veiled excuses. And while you weren’t sure how you felt about all of this, you weren’t about to turn down some time alone with Kevin as it had been months since you’d had any with him in person and not over the phone.

Arriving back at the house with your hair and makeup done professionally, you felt more beautiful than you could ever remember. Kevin had texted you that he’d be back at the house to get you in half an hour and so you rushed up to your room to change into the gorgeous sundress you’d brought with you. You’d brought it with you figuring that it could serve as a cover-up if nothing else, but now it was the only thing that was even semi-appropriate to wear out to dinner. Settling the fabric over your hips, you gazed at yourself in the mirror, smiling at the woman staring back at you. It wasn’t often that you got dressed up to go somewhere and it was a nice feeling. While you knew that you really didn’t have anyone to impress, you were hoping that you’d get a reaction out of Kevin nonetheless.

You’d just finished hyping yourself up for dinner when you heard Kevin’s booming voice calling your name. Slipping your feet back into your sandals, you started down the stairs, finding Kevin waiting for you in the entryway.

“How was golf?” You asked him, missing the look of awe on his face as he took in your appearance.

“Golf was good.” He responded, his hand drifting to your lower back. “You ready?” He asked and when you nodded, he guided you out to the rental car, helping you inside before slipping around to the driver's seat. “How was the spa? Hopefully, my family didn’t give you too much trouble?” He asked, glancing over at you while at a red light.

“It was incredible. Thank you, Kev. I feel beyond spoiled. And your family was great. I had a lot of fun.” You assured him, relaxing back into the seat of the car.

“Good.” Kevin mused. “Though you don’t have to thank me. You deserve it.” He’d added in a whisper and for a pause, it felt like you couldn’t breathe.

The restaurant Kevin had taken you to was gorgeous and the food was absolutely amazing. You had really missed spending time with Kevin like this and you enjoyed catching up with him. Hours had passed without you even realizing it and sadly before you knew it, it was time to return back to the house.

Arriving at the beach house, you were taken aback when you walked into the middle of an intense board game session, one which Kristen dragged you into declaring that they needed more players. It wasn’t until the early morning hours that every one trickled off to bed, a little tipsy, having spent hours laughing and carrying on.

Sliding between the sheets you thought about today’s lesson: you felt like you belonged while with Kevin’s family and maybe “just friends” was more blurred than you had thought.

***

Sunday was your last full day of vacation, your flight home scheduled for lunchtime Monday. You’d been woken up by a large body bouncing onto your bed and you groaned, shoving Kevin in the chest, still half asleep.

“C’mon Y/N...we’re spending the day on the beach.” He insisted, once again not taking no for an answer.

“Fine. Leave so I can get up and get dressed.” You murmured, having slept half nude the night before which was something you didn’t need Kevin to see.

“You have five minutes.” Kevin declared and though he didn’t say what would happen if you took longer, it was certainly implied that Kevin would drag you out of this room in whatever state of dress.

Laying in bed for another minute, you finally pulled yourself up and rummaged through your bag for your swimsuit. Sliding it on you then threw on shorts and a t-shirt before throwing your hair up in a messy bun. After grabbing sunscreen and your phone you slipped your shoes on and made your way downstairs to find Kevin goofing off with his niece who was bouncing around excited to head down to the ocean.

Your day was spent in the sun and sand and waves, as you switched between working on your tan, playing with Kevin’s niece and letting Kevin drag you into the ocean. You’d stayed on the beach until the sun had begun to set. Returning to the house, the men worked on grilling up dinner while the rest of you settled into chairs surrounding a fire pit.

After enjoying dinner and changing into some actual clothes instead of a damp suit, you’d settled back into the chair, glasses of wine and bottles of beer floating around never to be emptied without being replaced. With the moon high in the sky, you enjoyed the evening with Kevin’s family, his nephew eventually being settled onto your chest, the little boy cooing as he snuggled into you.

Within ten minutes of being handed the baby, Kevin had come over and taken him from you, handing him back to his brother. Raising an eyebrow at him, you watched as he reached a hand out to you, pulling you from your seat.

“Come take a walk with me.” His words signaled that it was more of a demand than a request and though you were confused, you nodded, slipping off your sandals as you reached the beach to walk barefoot along it with him, nothing but the moonlight guiding your way.

“Kev...what’s going on?” You eventually asked him, the silence between you becoming overwhelming. Kevin didn’t stop until you had tugged on his arm, forcing him to look at you. When he did it was with eyes that were stormy and your heart picked up speed at the sight of them.

“Kev…” You repeated. “Is everything okay? Did I do something wrong?” Kevin had never acted like this before and it was something that concerned you.

“I want to have a baby with you.” Kevin eventually spoke and your jaw dropped as you froze, just staring at him.

Eventually you found your voice again and were able to stutter out, “You what?”

“I want you to have my baby,” Kevin repeated. “You’re my best friend. My family loves you. And seeing you holding Beau. Fuck Y/N I need that.”

“Kev…” You breathed, unable to form any words other than his name with the way your head was suddenly spinning. Staring at him for a moment longer as he just stared back made it hard to breathe and after a moment you turned. “We should head back.” You said softly.

Kevin didn’t protest, instead linking his large fingers with yours as you walked, only dropping them just before reaching the eyesight of his family. Settling back into your chair you forced a smile onto your face and joined the ongoing conversation, accepting the fresh glass of wine you were offered.

Not long after, the kids were taken up to bed and the rest of the house slowly moved to follow them. Still, Kevin didn’t move from his spot and neither did you until the two of you were the only ones left out by the dying fire. Watching the flickering flames cast shadows on his face, the only thought that would come to mind was how handsome he was.

And you weren’t sure whether it was the fire, the wine, the earlier baby snuggles and playtime with Kevin’s niece, or the feelings for Kevin that you’d been suppressing for so long but something pushed you to your feet and over to stand in front of Kevin and it was only once he was looking up at you that you nodded.

“Okay.”

Without a word, Kevin nodded back, reaching up to take your hand before guiding you inside and up to his bedroom which was settled the farthest away from the bedrooms where the rest of his family was staying. It wasn’t until the door was closed behind the two of you and the lock flipped into place that Kevin pulled you close, his lips dropping down to yours as his hands wrapped themselves around your waist.

Everything after that felt like it happened in slow motion. Kevin’s hands were so gentle as he stripped you out of your clothing before lifting and gently laying you back on his bed. His accent was heavy as he slowly murmured about how much this meant to him, how beautiful you were, and how he couldn’t wait to see your body swell with his child. His touch and his kisses were slow and lingered, working your body close to the edge of orgasm not once but twice before finally making you fall apart. It was only then that Kevin pressed inside of you, his mouth silencing your screams as you cried out for him. The sound of your bodies rocking against each other was the only thing filling your ear until Kevin hissed and grunted and suddenly you were filled with a warmth as he spilled inside of you.

Sleep followed not long after but it wasn’t until you stirred early the next morning that you realized your next lesson of this trip: that you had made a massive mistake.

***

Tears formed in your eyes as you slid from Kevin’s arms and worked on silently gathering your clothes. After stopping to use the bathroom, you slid back into your room closing the door behind you. It was only then that you really started to cry as you worked to throw on proper clothes before packing your bag up to head home.

It wasn’t like you were going to leave before talking to Kevin, but...knowing that said conversation was likely going to turn into a fight, well, you wanted to be able to make a quick escape if need be.

Your stomach twisted as you made your way downstairs, and you forced a smile onto your face as you sat down to eat the eggs that Kevin’s mom was making. Hearing Kevin’s footsteps on the stairs, you got up to intercept him, pulling him outside.

“We need to talk.” You murmured, watching as Kevin eyed you anxiously.

“Okay.” He conceded, sitting down on the front porch step of the beach house.

“Last night was a mistake.” You started and immediately Kevin opened his mouth to protest, an action which you stopped with a shake of your head. “Kevin I’m sorry but it was. I can’t have a baby with you.” You whispered, afraid that someone would overhear you. “I was overwhelmed by the mood of vacation, the moon, the fire, the alcohol, you...but none of that is real Kev. What’s real is that I’m going back to Boston today and you’re going back to Philly and this…” You gestured between the two of you. “This won’t work. And it certainly wouldn’t be fair to even think about bringing a baby into.” It hurt you to see Kevin’s shoulders slump, but this was something that had to be said.

“Y/N please...we could make it work.” Kevin murmured and you shook your head, tears prickling in your eyes.

“No. No, we couldn’t.” You insisted, moving to head back inside. “I’m sorry Kev...but I’m gonna grab my bag and go to the airport. Thank you for everything.” As you started to walk past him, Kevin reached out catching just the tips of your fingers.

“Why?” The word slipped from his mouth without further context and you tugged your hand away from him, brushing the tears from your face.

“Because you don’t love me the way that I love you.”

Once back in the house, you grabbed your things before stopping to say a quick goodbye to the rest of Kevin’s family, making an excuse as to why you needed to leave for the airport early. You had a feeling they knew that something was up, but no one said anything and you thankfully didn’t see Kevin again before climbing into a cab. Your heart ached because last night had been so perfect. The problem was that it wasn’t real and you needed something that could be real. Sadly perfect….perfect wasn’t real.

_____

The steady tic tic tic of the kitchen timer finally sounded, causing you to jump. A glance over at Kristen revealed a concerned but supportive look as she nodded at you. You hadn’t known where else to turn, but you couldn’t do this on your own. You weren’t sure if she knew the details of what had happened or not, but the moment you had messaged her asking for her help she was quick to assure you that you had it. It had been six weeks since you got on a plane and left Kevin behind. Six weeks without a peep from him and you knew it was your fault. All of this was your fault.

“It’s time to look Y/N.” She whispered. “Take a few deep breaths.” She added, her hand rubbing over your back as you tried to get the courage to flip over the tiny plastic sticks. “Here. Hold my hand.” She insisted. With her strength flowing through your joined hands you took one final breath before reaching over to the coffee table and turning each of the three sticks in turn.

‘Pregnant.’

‘+ ‘

And two pink lines.

It had been one night. One mistake. And now you couldn’t deny it any longer.

You were having Kevin Hayes’s baby.

#kevin hayes #kevin hayes imagine #philadelphia flyers #philadelphia flyers imagine #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #kevin hayes nws #nws #lemon #027 #pflyers

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cilldaracailin · 4 years

Text

Crazy Little Thing Called Love

And here we go again!

This is being posted a lot earlier than planned because of my previous post and how I had a good day, I decided to pull my posting date forward and go against my code of writing and posting and not finish my next story before I post this one but I am sure I can cope with that! ;)

I hope you all enjoy this one. It’s a good one, even though I am totally biased.

Thanks so much for all the lovely followers and likes and Tumblr love on all my previous blog posts!

Suze xx

*I do not know Taron but the other characters are all mine!*

“A good laugh and a long sleep are the two best cures for anything.”

Robyn stood with her hand on the open car door, a troubled look on her face as she watched Taron snoozing in the front seat of her car, his head rolled to the side a little. He met her with a tired smile and tight hug in Dublin airport just after eleven pm, another apology on his lips as he squeezed her against him. It was late Monday evening, the day before St. Patrick’s Day and even though it was going to be another incredibly short visit, Taron had insisted that he was coming to spend the Irish holiday with his Irish friend.

“It’s such a late Taron flight and you are working right up until you need to be at the airport.”

“I am coming Robyn. I promised you.”

No matter how much she tried to tell him that he didn’t have to come to visit her, Taron refused to listen to her and now sat in her car, asleep, his whole body a little cramped with his position in the front seat.

Taron had taken on some work to keep himself busy between filming, doing some voice over work as well as prepping for his new role which he was thrilled to have gotten and his days were full and demanding and as predicted the screen test for his new role had been the weekend before he was due to come and visit Robyn. He had learnt the weekend previous that he was given the role he was desperate to get, his good friend and director Matthew Vaughan, putting Taron through a tough audition process to make sure he was absolutely right for the part and his Monday had been filled with phone calls and an impromptu script run through as the cast was finalised and Matthew wanted to be absolutely sure with his choices. Taron had to change his flight to the last one that evening so he could still go and be Irish for the day. It meant that once again, he was thoroughly exhausted and once Robyn had driven them out of the airport, he was asleep, Robyn talking away to her friend, not even realising he was asleep until she had been babbling for a while without a reply. She had tried her hardest to talk him out of coming but he was completely insistent and as Robyn now hunched down in front of the open door, as much as she loved seeing Taron, she was wondering if the forty-eight hours they got to spend together was worth it for him as his schedule started to fill up again and his very early starts and late nights started to take their toll on him.

She gently shook his knee and he immediately lifted his head, his eyes opening wide as he looked at her.

“Hey you.”

Groaning, his leaned against the head rest. “All I do is sleep with you.”

Robyn smiled and blushed a little but her grin faded a little as it took Taron a few seconds to realise what he said, his hands running down his face, almost too tired to be embarrassed and it wasn’t like him at all to react so slowly to something awkward he had said.

“I sleep with you too.” She replied. “And cwtch sometimes.”

“I am sorry Robyn. Not the way I wanted what was supposed to be our few days to go. Now it’s barely two.”

Robyn reached into the car and took his hand. “We have said many times before, that we would be happy with even an hour together. I will take our two days Taron. You know this.”

“Yeah I do but wouldn’t it be nice to have a couple of days together? Like New Years? Matthew wanted me to tell you he was sorry that our time was taken away from each other but he just needed to make sure I was suited for the actor playing my dad in the movie, that we connected and had a chemistry of sorts, even though the father son relationship in the movie is a turbulent one. Then once he was satisfied, he had to organise a read through. It’s such a significant and relevant story to the world today and he insists on getting everything not just right but perfect.”

“Taron you never have to apologise to me for your work. I know how important your job is to you and how much you wanted this part.”

“You are important to me too Robyn.” Taron’s voice was serious and insistent.

“You know I know that.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “But sometimes, life throws us a curve ball.”

“That was Matthew, not me.”

“And if Matthew was keeping you from me, then I know it was extremely important. Now how about we put a little smile on this sad face, and we go inside and just get some sleep. Busy day tomorrow.”

“Being Irish?” He asked a small smile on his face.

“And I know a blue dinosaur who has missed you terribly. Perk up rocketman. You got here and have two days to relax a little.”

“I am always tired when I come to see you.” He complained as he got out of the car, his body a little stiff from the position he fell asleep in.

“Not true.” Robyn answered him as she closed the car door. “I was the one falling asleep in the car last time we saw each other.” She opened the back door and took his backpack out.

“I just want one time to come and see you and not be tired.”

Robyn hated the sadness and grogginess she heard in his voice. “Hey Taron, don’t get too caught up in the technicalities we face. We knew we were going to have a hard time in seeing each other. We can’t just go and spend an evening together or go for a drink when we feel like it. We have to plan our visits and I know it’s frustrating, believe me. There have been so many times I wished I could have physically seen you rather than talking on the phone but when it comes down to it Taron, I will take a phone call over nothing.”

“Me too Robyn.” Taron took his bag from her, yawning as he did so. “I am sorry. I’ve been in a shit mood all day. I shouldn’t be taking my annoyance over other things that are out of my control out on you.” Taron was still always so conscious of how his behaviour and reaction to the article had hurt her before Christmas and always made sure now that he didn’t burden her with his worries or if he did need a chat, try his best to keep from rolling his anger and upset onto her.

“You can still talk to me about everything though Taron, you know this.” Robyn locked her car and started to walk towards her front door.

He let a heavy sigh leave his body, following Robyn to her home. “This new film is going be tough and I am overthinking everything at the moment. The script read through this morning was challenging and there is so much to it, I know I am going to struggle with it at times.” Taron was on Robyn’s heels as she strolled in through her front door, going straight to the island in her kitchen to put his bag on it. “I also know it is going to be a very emotionally charged shoot.”

“Have you spoken to Matthew about all of this?” She asked him, as she pulled a cup from her press, placing it on her hot water maker, turning it on so water slowly filtered into the stripped mug.

“Yeah he knows.” Taron came to stand beside her, taking his hat off and throwing it onto the island. “We have a lot of time to prepare though and he is such a good friend and everyone one of the cast is so talented, I know we will do the movie and story justice but it is going to be so tough. Matthew has already told me to use him when I need to, ring him with any question.”

“I am glad you have him to lean on when you need too but even with him working on editing Kingsman, he is still getting ready for a new movie?” Robyn dropped a tea bag into the cup.

“Believe it or not but he is actually nearly finished already. He hasn’t stopped since we finished the re-shoots four weeks ago. He still has two weeks to finish it up completely before we start promotion and then the premier which by the way…” Taron pulled his wallet from his jeans pocket and opened it. “Might as well pull these out now.” He handed her over two very crumpled pieces of paper. “Cashing in some vouchers.”

Robyn grinned as she took them from him. She opened the first one and wasn’t surprised to see the ‘go to a premier with me’ voucher in her hands and as she opened the second one, frowned a little. “‘Wear an outfit of my choosing’.” She read. “I think I might regret writing this one.”

It was the first time she had seen him smile since he picked him up from the airport. “Stella is helping me.” He assured her as he put his wallet back in his pocket. He watched as she placed the vouchers on the countertop and moved to open a drawer and take out a spoon. “And I won’t pick a black sack.” He knew she was making him a cup of tea and watched as she stirred the tea bag around a few times before taking it out. “And you have full control over your hair and make-up except that Stella probably will be doing it all.” Taron followed her as she took a few steps to the fridge to get some milk and back again to where the cup sat. “And I hope I have given you enough notice for work. I know you will have to take the day off, maybe even the Thursday before if you could.” Robyn’s silence was starting to worry him and once she had added the sugar and milk to his tea, she picked up the cup and handed it to him. He took the cup from her, the heat from the mug settling nicely into his hands. He blew on the liquid before taking a sip, closing his eyes as once again Robyn made his tea perfectly.

“And I will be there. I have already asked for the two days off Taron.” She replied to him eventually and he hoped she hadn’t heard the sigh of relief he made and he took another drink from the cup, the hot soothing liquid exactly what he needed right now after a long day of work and stress. “And I completely trust you with regards to a dress. Actually, I think I trust you more than I trust Stella and you will steer her clear of plunging necklines and princess dresses.”

“So, no plunging neckline then?” He asked with a light smirk on his face. “Ok I shall have to re-think my thoughts.”

“Taron Egerton I am trusting you with this dress and you need to remember this premier is so much more than Elton’s party or the musical. It is a much larger event and for your movie and is going to attract so much more attention.”

“Hey…” Taron put his cup down and stepped over to her. “I know Robyn. I think I know you well enough now to understand what you like and what you don’t, and I will steer Stella in the right direction too.” He moved closer to her and gently pecked her cheek. “Trust me.”

Robyn stared at him and despite the fatigue in his eyes, they were still bright and held that mischievous glow. “I should have put a voucher in there that lets me dress you.” She replied to him, watching as picked up his tea and he took a long drink from his cup, a smile on his lips. “Maybe I need to sticky tape one in.”

“Not part of the terms and condition chicken.” Taron winked her way and started to walk away from her. “Now where is cwtch?”

Robyn watched him walk away from her, through her kitchen and into the bedroom, laughing as she heard him talking to the blue dinosaur who sat on her bed. She leant against the counter and sighed. Every waking moment, the man currently in her bedroom was in her thoughts. She thought about him when she played the piano, when she took out her guitar, as she lay on her couch and as she stood under her shower, her shampoo still on the right-hand side six months later and lately she constantly thought about the shoulder massage she had given him back in London a few weeks ago, even more how Taron had just her roam her hands all over his chest and warm skin and if she was honest with herself she was desperate to do it all again, praying for the day that Taron produced his back massage voucher for her. She watched his movies with such a different view now and whereas before she would be engrossed in the movie, now she was engrossed in Taron watching how he moved, his facial expressions and his voice. As his work schedule quickly filled up, especially now that he was preparing to work with Matthew once more, time for speaking with each other was becoming a little bit trickier, Taron actually falling asleep on the phone as they spoke to each other last week. Robyn was just as busy and her rehearsals for RENT were lasting longer and getting later as they started to pull the show together, the musical society now adding Monday evening and Saturday to their rehearsal schedule to ensure the show was the best possible it could be and with two weeks to go until opening night, her days were pretty packed.

In saying that though, she didn’t look anywhere near as tired as Taron did. She hated seeing him so exhausted and had tried hard to convince him to stay in London and take his two-day break at home, but he was having none of it. He was adamant that he was keeping his promise and spending St Patrick’s Day with her. Once she saw him sauntering out of arrivals and towards her, her whole body filled with a blush and red-hot heat flushed through her. Taron just had a knack for doing nothing and making her feel fuzzy butterfly feelings in her stomach and she melted into his arms as he hugged her tight in the airport. Her love and affection for him deepened further into her soul each time they saw each other, and Robyn knew that although she loved Taron without a doubt, there was now the little problem she was facing of how she was actually falling in love with him. She enjoyed his company, compassion, and caring nature as well as his terrible jokes, infectious laugh and how he made her feel like the most important person in the room when she was with him.

“Hey rocketman are you hungry? You came straight from your read through, you must be starving.”

Robyn stopped in her bedroom doorway and was immediately met with flashbacks from the first time Taron stayed with her. Sprawled out on the duvet on the right side of the bed, Taron lay on his stomach, cwtch the blue dinosaur cuddled under his right arm, fast asleep and breathing deeply, the right side of his face nestled into the pillow. If she had of been thinking straight, she definitely would have taken a picture, but she was a little concerned at how once again an exhausted man slept on her bed. Robyn knew he was naturally going to be a little run down the busier he got but it seemed to her that at times, his exhaustion or overused muscles were erring on the edge of extreme and it worried her a lot that he was going to get really ill from it all.

She knelt on the floor beside the bed and lifting her hand ran it down his cheek, his growing beard at the longest she had ever seen it and it suited him well, the dark hairs coarse under her fingers. He didn’t stir as she gently swiped down his nose too or even when she moved to place a lingering kiss on his temple. Getting to her feet, she walked around to the end of the bed and a little awkwardly, pulled his boots off, dropping them on the floor. It was bringing back too many deja vu moments for her and she sighed sadly. It seemed morbid but she was ever so grateful that she had met Taron in the way she had and was so thankful to have him in her life, even when he could frustrate her beyond belief, test her patience and good nature but when he looked so innocent as he slept, she only felt her natural mothering nature coming through and wanted to sit with him and just cuddle him tight. His mam’s words still resonated with her since the first time Robyn ever spoke to her and it was that Taron needed someone to look after him, someone he could rely on and she not only wanted to be that person in his life but she felt an overwhelming need to be there for him no matter what.

Deciding she was getting into the slightly uncomfortable staring situation as she usually found herself in when the Welshman was resting on her bed, Robyn left Taron sleeping with cwtch and walked back out to her sitting room and dropped onto the couch. She had literally spent the weekend sleeping and had caught up on many hours of missed rest that she wasn’t tired enough to sleep but shaking her head, Robyn stood back up.

“Gorgeous man sleeping in your room.” She reminded herself and picked up her laptop she had left on her couch before she went to meet Taron at the airport. She made sure all the doors were locked and with Taron’s bag and hat in her other hand, walked back into the bedroom. She dropped his bag in her closet, hat on her make-up table and once changed into some comfy PJ bottoms and a t-shirt, she settled herself on the left side of the bed, turning on her computer to do some browsing for a while. Taron had told her himself, he had a talent for sleeping anywhere and for a long time and having seen it first-hand herself many times, she wasn’t at all surprised at how deep he slept beside her, long soothing and calming breathing filling his whole body but she was still a little worried about him. Pushing her worries to the side, Robyn talked herself out of her reservations about him and knew that it was just a tiredness from working nonstop over the weekend that had him drained. She shuffled a little closer to him, smiling as she could hear his breathes as he slept, grinning as hugged the dinosaur closer to him, his body moving in his sleep to find a more comfortable position, a quiet little sleepy sigh leaving his lips. “Enjoy your cosy duvet sleep rocketman.”

Cwtch was still buried under his arm and he still lay on his stomach eleven hours later and he woke up to a wonderful scratching sensation on his head.

“If only I could wake up like this every day.” He happily moaned as Robyn dug a little deeper into scalp.

“It’s only ‘cos I couldn’t throw the cup of water over you, no matter how much I wanted too. I know how tired you were yesterday so didn’t think it would have been fair to wake you up with a start, especially when your tiredness is not really your fault.” Robyn knelt on the floor at the edge of the bed, her right hand still in his hair. “Though I probably could have gotten away with it by saying it was a traditional St Patrick’s Day tradition.”

Taron laughed. “I think I need to be a little wary of you today. I have a feeling there are going to be a lot of Irish traditions that are not actually traditions.”

Robyn grinned back at him as she took her hand from his hair. “Nope. I will be good. I promise. Only good and proper Irish traditions and the first one is breakfast.”

“Breakfast hash?” He asked hopefully, remembering how good their breakfast out together had been last year.

“Nope.” She saw his face fell a little.

“Full Irish?” He chanced, his stomach rumbling a little at the thought of some food, never mind a full Irish breakfast.

“Nope.” Robyn answered him.

“Oh.”

“But I have pancakes.”

“Pancakes?” Taron lifted his head from the pillow. “I like pancakes.”

“Irish pancakes.”

“Like potato cakes?” He asked, praying she said no. Taron would eat anything but for breakfast, he really wasn’t in the mood for potato cakes.

“Nope. Irish pancakes. Green, white and orange ones.” He was so relieved that he wasn’t getting potatoes for breakfast but quickly became confused again with her answer. “Why don’t you get up and ready for the day and all shall be revealed to you when you come out to the kitchen.”

“So secretive chicken.”

“Have to keep you guessing Taron.” Robyn ruffled his hair a little and stood up. “You know where everything is.”

Taron watched as she walked out, tilting his head a little as he caught a glimpse of her outfit, doing a double take. His Robyn, who always wore jeans, was in a green skirt with tights and knee-high boots. His insides did a wonderful flip and he buried his face into the pillow. “She is not yours.” He spoke to himself. “She is Robyn.” He stupidly inhaled and his eyes rolled behind his closed lids as that comforting scent of Robyn’s perfume and shampoo filtered through him. He was so shattered yesterday as he walked through the glass doors of the airport, that even the simple task of putting one foot in front of the other was a chore and he was starting to think that he should have just listened to Robyn and stayed in London but as her beautiful face came into view, he knew he had made the right decision to travel so late. He had signed his work contract for Matthew and was under obligation now to be available when he was needed and his friend had apologised for the terrible timing for the script read through but Taron was a professional actor and while he committed to his work schedule, he also kept his promise to Robyn and just arrived a little later and a lot more jaded then expected.

He gave his body a long full stretch, hearing some of his joints cracking as he did so and got to his knees, before climbing off the bed, stripping himself of his hoodie and he walked into her closet and to her bathroom. It was a shower he desperately needed and it not only helped to wash the previous days sweat and worries from his shoulders, but also to wake him up, Taron just standing under the wonderful pressure of the water. Robyn had left two of her soft blue towels on the towel warmer for him and he felt so at home in her bathroom, knowing where everything he needed was, though he was still getting used to the frosted window, not thoroughly convinced it wasn’t see through.

Once dressed, he wandered out to the kitchen and a delightful smell of food met him. Robyn was at the hob, her back turned to him and he stopped walking as he took in her outfit, only now noticing the black cropped top she wore too, the tiniest sliver of skin on show above her skirt. It was a look he had not known he needed to see Robyn in and the pop of colour from her short green skirt, was the perfect tribute to the day that was in it. As he walked over to her, he noticed some green streaks in her hair and as he leant against the counter beside her, his hand immediately went to her hair.

“So, we have moved to green now?” He asked, her hair so soft between his fingers.

Robyn concentrated on not burning their breakfast so didn’t turn to him but still answered his question. “I was inspired by the hair chalk again and sure it is St Patrick’s Day.”

“Any more left?” He asked her.

“There is a some on my make-up table.”

“Another traditional Irish activity?”

“Throwing everything I have your way rocketman.” Robyn carefully placed the last pancake on the plate and turned the hob off, finally turning to face him. “So, you hungry?”

“Do you even need to ask?” He titled his head, trying to read Robyn’s face which was a mixture of shock, confusion with a hint of a smile.

“Taron, what are you wearing?”

“Clothes?” He answered grinning as she frowned at him. “My St Patrick’s Day clothes. You don’t like?”

“It’s very green and don’t get me wrong, green is stunning on you, but I mean, this is a lot of green.”

“Robyn you told me that dressing green was a pre-requisite to be Irish!”

“I didn’t mean everything had to be green though.” She took in his dark green trousers and green check long sleeved shirt under which he wore a light mint green t-shirt. “It’s a lot of green.”

“I am being Irish.”

His reply made her laugh. “Well you definitely pass the dress test.” She took a step closer and ran her hands down his wonderfully fitted shirt. With his strict training schedule on the downlow because he was finished filming Kingsman, Taron was a little less focused on his diet and gym attendance and Robyn was instantly attracted to his somewhat less lean and bulky physic, his shirt sitting on his frame perfectly, his green eyes almost illuminating in reflection from the green thread from the check pattern on his chest. “And I like this. A lot.” Robyn moved her hands from his chest to his jaw. “You growing out a beard?” She asked, his cheeks lifting to a smile under her thumbs.

“Just being lazy. Haven’t really had a reason to shave.” He closed his eyes as Robyn’s thumbs ran the whole length of his jaw.

“It really suits you.”

“My mam had been giving me a little bit of grief over it. Think it makes me look older than I am.”

Robyn grinned, imaging the lecture Taron had gotten from his mam. “Well I like it, a lot.” She confirmed. “Even with all the green Taron and the tiredness, you look good.”

“Well then I have full permission to say so do you.” Taron’s hands came to rest on her waist, his thumbs sitting neatly in the gap that her crop top left. “Robyn in a skirt?” He asked raising an eyebrow.

“It’s my go to Patrick’s Day skirt and actually I wear this to work sometimes.”

“It’s not a little short for work?” He asked, trying to keep his blush in.

“I said sometimes.”

“Well, I wish I had of gotten the real memo about the subtle touch to the green though. You are wearing one green thing.”

“May I remind you that you were not told to wear all green. It wasn’t specified all green rocketman and as an official Irish person, I am not obliged to actually wear head to toe green.”

“Oh really?”

“Yep.”

“Another one of those Robyn’s rules?”

“Sure.”

“You have a lot of rules Robyn.” He smirked, his thumbs grazing the skin of her waist ever so lightly.

“Ahh but Taron, rules are meant to be broken!” She lifted his hands from her waist and kissed them both on his knuckles, one at a time. “So, breakfast?” She let go of his hands and picked up the plate of pancakes and showed him. “Green, white and orange.”

On the plate were a stack of pancakes, a selection of each dyed the colours of the Irish flag. He took them from her after she gestured for him to do so and he watched on amused as she pulled a bowl from her fridge full of chopped up fruit, but only fruit in the colours of green, white and orange, kiwi’s, green grapes, melon, mango and pineapple in circles and squares mixed together.

“Is this your normal St Patrick’s Day breakfast?” He asked her, noticing a little tint fill her cheeks. “Robyn, did you do this for me?”

“Maybe.” Her voice was quiet, and she avoided his eyes. She had wanted to do something really special for him even more so when he made such an effort to get to her, ensuring he made it on time too and knowing well, that he wouldn’t have eaten great yesterday, she needed to make sure he had a substantial breakfast.

“For me?” He asked again.

“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

“And this is an Irish breakfast like none other.” Taron walked past her and put the plate of pancakes on the breakfast bar and then took the fruit from Robyn. “Syrup?” He asked with a grin and already knowing where it was, walked past her to get the bottle. “So, are we going to let these go cold?” Taron felt so blessed at that moment in time that he had someone who was willing to go to so much effort just to make him breakfast and as his stomach rumbled hungrily, he was ready to get stuck into his meal of pancakes and fruit.

Without a word, Robyn grabbed two plates she had warming in the oven and once they were settled on the kitchen stools, a glass of orange juice for Robyn, a coffee for Taron, they tucked into their colourful breakfast, Taron almost shovelling the food into his mouth he was so hungry. He hadn’t had much to eat yesterday and Robyn was the queen of making him breakfast and as he soaked up the last of the syrup on his plate with a piece of green pancake from Robyn’s, he licked his lips in appreciation.

Robyn could only watch on as the man sitting beside her, ate every single thing in front him, his hunger fully satisfied as he drained the remains of his coffee. “Good?” She asked him as he reached for the last piece of mango from the bowl of fruit.

“So good.” He answered with his mouth full. He swallowed the fruit. “If this is just a taste of St Patrick’s Day, I am super excited for the rest.”

“Lots planned for today.”

“What you got up your sleeve Quinn?” He lifted his arms to she could take his plate and followed her with his cutlery, putting them in the sink. “I wash, you dry.” He gave her a little nudge away from the sink. “It’s our way.”

Not arguing with him, Robyn left Taron to fill the sink with hot water and bubbles, roll up his sleeves and start to wash their breakfast dishes. She grabbed a tea towel and helped him dry.

“So, chicken what have you got planned for us?”

“Well the parade starts in about forty minutes, so we can walk down to the town to watch that and then the duck race.”

“You get me my duck?” He asked her.

“Yep. Number two two zero two.”

“I am going to win.”

“Yeah you and the other two thousand or so ducks in the race.”

“I have my lucky Irish chicken with me. I am going to win.” He insisted.

“And then we have the ceílí.”

“A ceílí?” Taron stopped washing a plate and turned to her. “A proper céilí?”

“A proper one. There is one in the GAA tonight and I got us some tickets. You can meet some of my other friends, if you would like to go.”

“Of course I want to go. That sounds brilliant and I would definitely like to meet your friends.”

Robyn grinned at his enthusiasm. “Thought after the duck race, we could go to the GAA, have some food and get you your Guinness and then the céilí.”

“Lots of Guinness.” He agreed as he wiped around the sink. “You mind if I use some of that green hair stuff that you used? I feel like I am not quite green enough.”

“Be my guest. You know where it is. I will finish up here.”

Taron made his way back into the bedroom and took a seat at her make-up table, grinning at the green eye shadow that was left open beside a make-up brush. “Robyn’s rules.” He mumbled as he reached for the bottle of green hair colour. Thinking it best he just stuck with the tips of his hair, as Robyn did when she coloured his hair blue, he squeezed the green hair dye onto his fingers and with a generous amount, coloured his hair a dark green colour, making sure he did a thorough job, getting every strand. “Happy St Patrick’s Day to me.” He grinned into the mirror.

“Looking good.” Robyn leant against the door frame watching Taron as he put a thick covering of green dye on his hair. “You up for some tattoos?” She waved a white packet his way. “Temporary tattoos.” She added. “Wash off with water. If you are going to be Irish for the day, you might as well go the whole hog.”

“Definitely.” Taron stood up and followed her into the bathroom, washing the hair colour from his hands. “You going to use some?”

“Of course. I just use the shamrocks though, not the Irish flags, or the ones that say ‘Kiss me I’m Irish’.”

“No?”

“Nope. I have a t-shirt that says that.”

“And you are not wearing it today because?”

“Irish people just get kisses on St Patrick’s Day without needing to ask for them.” She gently pushed on Taron’s chest after he had kissed her two cheeks. “Enough! Enough!” She laughed, pushing him a little harder. “We need to get a good spot for the parade and with this messing, have no chance. Now which one do you want?”

Taron placed the shamrock transfer tattoo on Robyn’s right cheek and after she had done the same for him, he slipped his shirt off asking for a flag on his upper right arm, just above the scar. “I can still have it and keep it hidden.

“Well Taron I don’t think you can get any more Irish.” She said when she had dried off his arm and he pulled his shirt back on. She was a little worried by his wink and giddy saunter back to the bedroom but didn’t pay much attention to him as she tidied up the mess from the tattoo’s in the bathroom.

“Can I be any more Irish now?”

Robyn looked up and her mouth fell open in shock before she started to laugh. “Oh dear Taron. I think I might just be regretting asking you to come over.” Taron had a large Irish flag wrapped around his shoulders and as he walked closer to her, stretched it, the flag a little longer then the length of his arm span. “Any more surprises for me?” She asked as he wrapped her up in an Irish flag hug.

“Nope I am done.”

“For someone who has been working so hard, you have had a lot of time to plan all of this.”

“I have been looking forward to today since you asked me. I’ve been prepared for a while.” Taron replied. “So ready to go? We need a good spot for the parade. I need to see everything.”

“You are going to be bitterly disappointed by this parade Taron. Trucks and children.”

“Trucks and children?”

“You know how small Kilcreen is. Our parade is mainly the school children and trucks from the warehouses.”

“Don’t care. I still need to see it all.”

“Well don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

#Taron Egerton #Taron Egerton Fanfiction #Taron Egerton Fanfic #Taron Fanfic #Love #Friendship #Ireland #St. Patrick's Day #Cuddles #Adventures #Excitment #Worries #Tiredness #Green #Robyn and Taron

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gustafsnightangel · 4 years

Text

Shattered Lives Ch 8 Pt 2

With court adjourned for the day she collected Lily and the twins and set out for home. It would probably be a pizza night for them all as she hadn’t even thought about food shopping this weekend. She hadn’t thought much of anything other than the man between her thighs rocking her world. The boys were tired but happy and they chattered all the way home about camping and fishing and all the fun nearly seven year olds could have.

As they lay in bed she thought now was as good a time as any to ask them.

“Hey I have a question about your birthday.” She had their full attention in a snap.

“Gustaf would like to come over for birthday pancakes but he’s flying out Sunday morning really early. Could we do birthday pancakes and all that on Saturday instead?”

“Can we still have pancakes on Sunday?” Liam asked cheekily.

“I think I can swing that.” She chuckled. They both looked at each other and something passed between them as only twins could do. She envied them in that moment, how she missed those conversations with Quinn.

“Do you like him Ama?” Finn asked and she knew that serious tone from the serious twin.

She sat on the floor and looked at them, she would never lie but there was only so much she wanted to give them right now.

“Very much.”

“Are you going to marry him? Like Mum and Dad?” His eyes looked hopeful. Or was that her imagination?

“I don’t know.” And she didn’t, she hadn’t thought of that, she was in murky waters.

“Do you like him?” She asked warily, turning the question back at them wanting to hear their answer.

They both nodded. “He’s cool and funny. Be kinda nice if he could stay with us all the time. Like a dad.”

Out of the mouthes of babes she thought.

“Like a dad. You know he can’t replace your father.” They nodded and she wrapped an arm around each of them. “No one can ever replace him.” She added and they gripped her tighter.

“If you’re not comfortable with him being like a dad he could always be like a bigger big brother. Or a guy that just gets it and cares a lot about you.”

“Like he is with Brendan?” Liam asked and she could see the wheels turning inside his head.

“Just like that.”

“Would he come to our soccer game Friday? The one after camp.” Liam asked hopefully.

“I don’t know, maybe we ask him tomorrow once we get home.” She hugged them tightly. She’d forgotten about the game after camp. “Thanks for reminding me.” She chuckled, she had to remember to leave work early Friday.

“Sleep now, busy day tomorrow.” She kissed them and tucked them in.

“Do you miss him Ama? Miss dad?” Finn’s voice was soft.

“More than I can stand Finn. I love you boys, sleep now.” She watched them settle and turned the overhead light off as she walked out of their room.

She closed their door and had to stand there and take a minute. She battled the grief down because she couldn’t go getting drunk outside her apartment or call Gustaf tonight. She needed to get a handle on her emotions for him, the kids, the grief, everything. She couldn’t dump on him every time she started to emotionally fall apart no matter how many times he said it was ok. She knew it took pieces out of him and she’d done that enough this morning.

She checked on Lily and settled at the table to go through her notes from the day. This case would hopefully be done by Thursday and she could look forward to the weekend and a birthday party.

She frowned at the knock some hours later and ignored it thinking it was from Gustaf’s apartment until the light knock came again. She got up irritated and swung the door open with some force. No one, but at her feet was a simple small bunch of white daisies and three bright yellow gerberas.

She picked them up and went back inside pulling the card from them as she set them on the counter. Three simple words to answer her text from this morning, “miss you too”, inscribed in his own handwriting. She placed them in water and sat them on the table out of reach of Lily’s chair. As she sat down to work a few more hours she smiled at his sweetness and glanced at them every so often not really believing he’d sent them.

Back into the normal grind of the work week she showered at eleven and fell into bed shortly thereafter. The sheets were cold, there was no solid man snuggling her close, those long arms wrapping around her tightly. This sucked, she thought bitterly. Stomping out of bed she pulled his shirt on roughly and climbed back in, at least the sheets and pillow smelled like him. She was out cold moments later exhausted.

His bed felt empty, lonely as he lay there on cold sheets, sheets her hands had fisted in as he’d made love to her. The pillow held her scent so he tucked it in close as if to hold her. He eventually slipped into sleep thinking of the family next door.

The day was a busy one, court, kids, and shopping because they couldn’t live off pizza all week though it was tempting and she was sure the twins wouldn’t complain. The boys were full of energy even after running around all day, Lily was grumpy, she couldn’t win them all.

“Can we go ask Gustaf?” Liam piped up, no sooner than Sildie had shoved the key in the lock.

“Shopping on the counter and yes you can go ask him.” They whooped and hurried inside.

“Remember your manners please.” She called after them as they tore out the door.

She sat the shopping on the counter and bundled the sobbing Lily to her.

“What’s up Lily bear? You miss him too huh?” Lily wrapped her arms around her neck and sobbed. “Yeah me to peanut, me too.”

There was a knock at the door which had his head snapping toward the noise. The knocking of little hands not big ones, children. He opened the door and looked down to see the twins craning their heads back to look at him.

“Hey boys what’s up?” He crouched down to their level and they both looked at each other.

“Everything ok?” His belly lurched as he glanced at her door.

“Yeah things are good.” Liam said brightly.

“Would you come to our soccer game Friday?” Finn asked quietly.

“What time?” He had to stop the grin from spreading at their slight unease. They were nervous at asking him.

“Starts at five.” Finn said. “I think.” The kid looked at his brother who shrugged.

“Let me come over real quick to make sure.” Gustaf chuckled. “Bill I’ll be thirty.” He called to his brother.

“No probs.” Bill called from the couch as he continued the game they had started on the x box.

He could hear Lily sobbing, the poor thing sounded like she was beyond it. Sildie took his breath away when he laid eyes on her. Lawyered up in her suit and heels, stunning. It fucked him up every time, more so because he knew what was under it.

“Ama is it five o’clock that the game starts?” Liam asked as he walked through the door as Sildie turned.

“Yes five. Hi.” She said quickly, seeing Gustaf at her door.

“Hi.” He said locking eyes with her and he felt his gut flip.

“So can you come?” Finn asked not able to sit still.

“I’ll certainly try, I have a lot on that day but let me see what I can finagle.” He said wiggling those long fingers and the boys happy with that answer took off to their room chattering, leaving him standing in the middle of the room.

“Sorry I didn’t mean for them to drag you over here.” Sildie said walking toward him. Why was this suddenly awkward she wondered.

“It’s fine, Lily ok?” He looked at her and stroked a finger down her cheek to wipe the tears away.

Before Sildie could answer the unexpected happened, Lily grabbed onto his finger, lunged for him and in a sob cried an unmistakeable “dad dad”. Gustaf has no choice but to take a hold of her and cradle her to him or the kid would have hit the floor. Lily continued to sob the occasional “dad dad” and curled into him as he stared at Sildie in wide eyed shock.

“I... she...” he shut his mouth with an audible snap. What the fuck did he, could he say to that?

“She’s missed you.” Sildie murmured and walked back to the kitchen to turn the kettle on, she had to slam the emotions down hard. That pang of envy, of miss-aimed anger, she should have been saying that to Quinn not Gustaf.

She had to get it reigned in. It wasn’t Gustaf’s fault, anyone’s fault. She was just as shocked but it made complete sense. He was the only adult male Lily had ever known.

His brain was all fuzzy. The kid had just called him dad and he was stunned stupid. He saw the look on Sildie face, the overwhelming grief try to surface. This was not what they needed right now. He leaned on the counter and let her keep busy with making tea. Lily was now quiet, still curled into him, holding on with a death grip.

“Sildie I’m so sorry.” He murmured.

She shook her head. “It’s fine, I should have seen it coming.” Her voice trembled and he saw the tears.

He swiped his thumb across her cheek to wipe them away, cupped her head in his free hand and pulled her into him, kissing her temple.

“It should have been him.” She choked trying to reign it in, and failed. “She should have said that to him and I’m being ridiculous. I don’t blame you, I’m not angry with you, but it should have been Quinn.” She sniffed and wiped the rest of the tears away. “And you don’t need me falling apart like this.”

“Fall apart if that’s what you need love, I’m not going anywhere.” He kissed her cheek bone and felt the tears drop. “And yes, it should have been him.” Was this the help Quinn was sending him? Help no, a sign maybe, he thought.

She rested her forehead against his and let the silent tears fall. In all honesty she wanted to do what Lily was doing but knew she couldn’t. It had caught her so off guard, slamming that grief full in her face.

She got her emotions under control eventually and composed herself. Looking at him she saw those comforting blue eyes looking back. Her slight smile broke his heart.

“Let me go home really quick and tidy up what I was in the middle of when the twins knocked on my door and I’ll be back ok?” He said softly.

“I’ll be fine.” He held her to him when she went to pull away. “I have shit to do and so do you no doubt.”

“I won’t be fine Sildie.” He brushed his fingertips down her jaw. “Give me five and I’ll be back.” He kissed her then, soft, tender, loving. “Not negotiable love.” He added when she went to argue the point, as the lawyer in her was about to do.

With Lily tucked in his arms he walked back to his apartment.

“Hey, can we do dinner tomorrow?” He asked his brother as he walked through the door.

“Sure. Hey cute kid.” Bill said looking up.

“You’re welcome to hang here I just need to help out next door for a little longer.” He said for a lack of a better explanation. He hadn’t told his family about their relationship yet other than they were friends. “I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“You like her if you’re looking after her kids.” Bill smirked.

“Drop it dude I’m serious, I’ll explain one day, but it’s not as cut and dry as that.” He didn’t need to have this conversation now and saw the harsh words hit his brother.

“Sorry man, it’s rough for her, for the kids. I’ll explain later.”

Bill could see Lily watching him and held onto his brother as if the kid was his own.

“Do what you gotta do. I’m always around to talk if you need to. Text me later ok and we’ll do food and that tomorrow. Prepare for your ass to be whooped.” He said pointing to the game.

“Bye Lily.” Bill said and waved a bye bye.

The kid snuggled in closer and Bill smiled. Yep, the kid had his brother wrapped around her adorable pinky. After staring at him for a while she waved a small bye bye of her own when she realized Gustaf was still holding her.

She got it together and then realized he’d taken Lily with him.

“Like she was going to let go anytime soon.” She muttered to herself.

Of all the things to come out of that kids mouth she wasn’t expecting her to call Gustaf dad. She wasn’t angry at him but she certainly felt that surge of extreme jealousy. The twins were oblivious as they walked in for a snack and went back to their rooms while Sildie started to put groceries away and make dinner.

Gustaf walked in just as the boys were sitting down to eat with a nearly asleep Lily in his arms. The kid hadn’t let him go, even when Bill had talked to her and he was the baby whisperer in the family with one of his own at six months old.

He sat on the couch and winked at Sildie to say an “it’s ok” without explanations, he had to tread carefully here with the twins in the room. He was quite happy to sit on the couch and let Lily sleep, they would talk later because he wasn’t leaving until Sildie had calmed. He saw the emotions still running into overdrive and she didn’t need that hanging over her for the rest of the week.

She place a tea beside him and reached out with a hand to squeeze his forearm. A calming touch to say she was ok and grateful for him to be here. She got the boys in the bath and sat there talking to them about Friday. They were over the moon Gustaf was going to try and be there.

“Why did Gustaf stay?” Liam asked.

“He stayed because Lily threw herself at him and won’t let him go.” She chuckled trying to keep it light. “She’s a grumpy bear today and Gustaf decided to hang around to help out.” Which was the truth, sort of.

“Is he staying the night?” Liams eyes lit up.

“I don’t think so kiddo. He probably has other things he needs to take care of.” She scoffed and flicked water at them. Truth was she’d love nothing more than for him to stay.

“Scrub the dirt off then out you get. Another busy day tomorrow and I have to read before court.” She waited until they’d scrubbed and hopped out before leaving them to dry themselves.

“PJs and bed to read.” She called walking back into the living area.

She cleared the table and stacked the dishwasher settling herself by menial chores to knock those emotions down a little further. She would not fall apart on him tonight. She needed to work and sleep to get through court tomorrow.

She tucked the boys in and they were out as soon as the door closed. Soccer had worn them out. She shut the hall door and went out to start her reading.

He heard her sit at the table, avoiding him he wondered or avoiding the inevitable falling to pieces? He stood slowly, Lily deadweight in his arms now, though he knew if he put her down she’d wail. He sat beside Sildie and moved her chair over as he stretched his legs either side of her.

“Talk to me love.” He murmured.

She shook her head and the tears fell.

“Let it out.” He whispered and kissed her temple before pulling her to him the best he could with a sleeping baby in his arms.

“Knocked the wind out of you didn’t it?” He asked softly.

She nodded as he stroked her arm trying to soothe her. He wanted to put Lily down and pull Sildie into his lap like the night he had outside her front door.

“Me too love.” His thumb grazed her cheek to wipe the tears away.

He’d give his last breath to not see her ever cry again with this heartbreak. It ripped him apart from the inside out. His fingers tangled in her bound hair and he risked a tender kiss.

“What can I do?” He kissed her again and lingered. “Please love, tell me what I need to do.” His voice betrayed him, emotions pouring out of him to comfort her, soothe her.

“You’re doing it.” Her voice was strangled like she had to push them out past the grief. “I just need this, you.”

“Do you want me to stay? I’ll stay on the couch with Lily, you can get a good night sleep.” He offered and she snorted.

“I’ll only get a good night sleep if you’re beside me.” Her voice still trembled as he kissed her softly.

“I know the feeling.” He said wryly. “I slept like crap last night.” Her soft chuckle lightened the dark cloud of grief over her head. “I had to resort to cuddling your pillow.” He wouldn’t admit that to another living soul.

“I had to wear your shirt before I could settle.” She admitted and looked at him brushing her fingers down over his scruff she kissed him.

“Thank you for the flowers.” She whispered kissing him again.

“I realized I stepped over a line yesterday.” He trailed a finger down her jaw. “I never meant to fuck with your independence. I just wanted to give you a break because it’s days like today Sildie that you need it. You can handle it on your own, sure, you have been, but why do it on your own when you don’t have to. I’d move the world not to have that soul crushing look in your eyes, but I know there’s nothing I can do, but this. Being here for you, with you, helping out wherever I can.”

Her kiss made him melt. “I need to not be as stubborn and to give a little. I’m sorry too, I can be bullheaded when it comes to certain things especially my independence. I’m set in my ways and still not used to having someone to rely on.”

“We’ll make it work.” He rested his head against hers. “Let me see if she’ll go down.” He kissed her temple and got up.

She got settled into her reading and it wasn’t until she stretched for a break she realized Gustaf was still with Lily. She went in her room to find her lanky man folded up on the floor with his arm between the rails, head resting against the crib, and Lily curled up with his hand like it was her beloved teddy bear. She smiled to herself, what a picture he was, tucked up on the floor, soothing a child that wasn’t his.

Sildie sat on the floor and he looked at her.

“Every time I move my hand she wakes up.” He said and couldn’t bring himself to move from her.

“I think she’s got big teeth coming through too she was rubbing her ear and jaw last week.” She whispered.

“It just guts me seeing her cry.” He looked up at her.

“Let her be and come out for tea. If she wakes I’ll get her, if she sleeps she sleeps.” She whispered, as he slowly pulled his hand from where Lily held him captive.

Lily shifted and he saw that little face scrunch up and a tiny fist rub her cheek before a soft sob escaped. Sildie soothed her back and placed her favorite bear under her arm where Gustaf’s hand had been. She settled and he looked up at Sildie.

“You’ve done that before.” He murmured in that low tone she loved.

Putting a finger to her lips she helped him stand. His arm came around her and he needed a moment just to hold her close. His entire evening had been turned on its ear. She took his hand gently and they walked out as quietly as possible.

As soon as she had closed the hall door he wrapped her in his arms and kissed her. The feel of her, the warmth, the scent, it stabilized him. He looked at her and smiled.

“What an evening.” He chuckled and blew a breath out.

“Never a dull moment.” She sighed and sat. Pouring the tea she fingered her notes she had yet to touch.

“You still have work?” He asked brushing his knuckles over hers as they toyed with the edges of the yellow legal pad. Her handwriting, he noticed, was elegant.

“Yeah, I need to get through it to be prepared for tomorrow.” She sighed.

“I’ll stay until you finish, if she wakes I’ll get her. Do what you need to do.” He said gently and lifted her fingers to his lips to kiss them.

“You sure? I feel like I’m dumping things on you before you’ve had a moments peace, taking you away form your own life.” She sipped her tea.

”I’ll stay. I’ll kick out on the couch, if I fall asleep just wake me up when you’re going to bed and I’ll go home.” He leaned forward and kissed her tenderly. “Get to work so you get some sleep tonight love.” He kissed her again and went to stretch out on the couch.

It was nine already and she had at least four more hours to put in. Tomorrow was a short day with just court but there would be more reading tomorrow night. It was nights like tonight she seriously contemplated his offer of having him come over and helping out when she got home on a regular basis.

True to his word he stayed on the couch and let her work. He watched her be consumed by her menial task of notes, reading them, taking more. He let himself drift as the memory of that tiny girl in the other room haunted him. Her face, her sobs, her eyes, pleading with him to comfort her, love her. He did love her.

“Wow there’s a realization.” He muttered so low Sildie wouldn’t have heard more than a sigh.

He thought of Sildies face, that look of total betrayal, why him and not her brother. That had cut her deeply and it destroyed him seeing her like that, it was out of his control but he still felt like shit for it, felt like the imposter. It was just past eleven when he heard her rise and turn the kettle on.

He got up and wrapped his arms around her, kissing the nape of her neck.

“You ok?” He asked more to assure himself she had settled.

“Yeah.” She breathed out and leaned back into him. “The rest I can take care tomorrow before court and I want to talk to my second chair beforehand.”

“You’re already exhausted love.” He murmured grasping her tighter. “You should go to bed.”

“I want a tea with you, then I’m having a shower and passing out.” She turned in his arms and leaned her forehead against his.

“Only if I can sit on the couch with you in my lap.” He said matter of factly as her head nodded in agreeance.

��I think we both need it. Thank you for staying.” Her lips ghosted his before kissing him with an apology.

He turned the kettle off before it broke into song and poured water into the teapot.

“I’m sorry for tonight.” Her voice calm now.

“It’s fine love that’s what I’m here for. That and so much more.” He kissed her and let his fingers tease the shirt from her suit pants, he needed to feel her skin.

As his touch grazed her spine he felt her relax. The entire day just melted off her.

“Better?” He murmured taking the kiss deeper.

She made some sort of an agreeable noise and let him continue. He held her to him gently stroking her spine, kissing her with tenderness, giving her what she needed to get through the rest of the night alone.

He poured the tea and they broke apart long enough to walk to the couch, sit the teacups on the coffee table, before he pulled her into his lap. He removed the heels and bundled her to him as he leaned back. She curled into him, head on his chest tucked under his chin, her long legs folded up and secured by his arm, her slender fingers on his chest at the deep V of his shirt.

“I’ve wanted to do this all day.” She sighed out and went lax in his arms.

He kissed the top of her head and breathed her in squeezing her tight to him. They both needed this he thought, the closeness, just being together.

“Me too love.” He squeezed her and sat her up slightly so they could sip their tea.

That comfortable silence descended and he felt her relax further.

“I sent you my schedule.” She said softly as her thoughts started drifting back into her head. “And the address for the soccer game, oh and Brendans hockey game if you can make it.”

He kissed her temple. “I’ll certainly try to make both games.”

“Like I said, we’ll understand if you can’t.”

“My realist will understand.” He smiled. “The kids will be devastated.”

“There will be other games.” Her fingers tapping the rim of her teacup.

“But they won’t be the first ones the kids had asked me to come to. It’s important, for me and for them.” She saw the seriousness in his eyes.

“You’re a good man Gustaf. Don’t let anyone ever tell you any different.” That statement rocked him to his core.

“Lawyer talking.” She shrugged as she saw the embarrassment she’d caused him.

“No, that’s you talking my love.” He kissed her tenderly.

“I’ll send you mine once I’ve talked to my PA tomorrow, she’s going to have a conniption.” He chuckled. “But that’s what I pay her for.”

They finished their tea and he knew he had to go. She was almost asleep in his arms.

“Go sleep love.” He murmured and kissed her head. She didn’t argue which told him she was exhausted. That emotional exhaustion that sapped every ounce of energy from her.

Standing on her threshold he kissed her tenderly.

“Inside, lock the door. I need to know your safe.” He said and watched her nod.

“Good night, and thank you.” She said softly.

“Anytime love, call if you need to ok?” He kissed her and then stepped back so she would go and sleep.

Asleep on her feet she tidied the cups and teapot and shuffled to the bedroom. Lily had thankfully stayed asleep. She showered, brushed her teeth, and rid her face of makeup.

She worried about Gustaf, his own emotional state with all that was happening. She had warned him about their emotional baggage and wondered if he was now thinking he’d bitten off more than he could swallow. Would it be long before he peaced out? Saying he was sticking was one thing but actually staying through the shitty parts was another. She wouldn’t blame him if he did.

She pulled on Gustaf’s shirt while she crawled into bed and was asleep before her head had settled on the pillow.

Gustaf shut his front door quietly and rested his head against it with a resounding thud. Would this get any easier he wondered, for them, for him. He was in the thick of it with them now, no mistake about that.

He wanted it, all of them, as a family, but getting through the grief with them was pulling on heartstrings he didn’t know he had. He knew it would get worse over the next few months, the twins birthday, Lily’s birthday, the anniversary, Sildies birthday, Christmas. It was all one big fucking mess of emotions. On the outside he would be her rock, the calm in their storm but on the inside he was bleeding, every tear that family shed sliced him a little deeper.

Lily broke him tonight. Those heart wrenching sobs still echoed in his ears. He wanted to cry with her at what she’d asked him to be to her, a child’s plea for a father.

“Shit Quinn.” He mumbled as he pulled away from the door. “You gotta fucking help me out here.” He looked to the ceiling for some divine intervention, a message, a sign, bolt of lightning, fucking anything at this point. “I’m fucking drowning.”

He stripped, pulled on the shorts and donned the gloves, he needed to burn this out of his system. He was suddenly angry at Quinn for not being here, like the dude had a fucking choice in when he and his wife died he thought bitterly. He shouldn’t be angry, had no right to be, he didn’t even know the guy. But he let that rage bubble up, let it flow out through his fists into the bag, he’d feel better for it.

It was the darker side of him he didn’t like and never wanted Sildie to see. The emotional stress that he usually kept contained in public just exploded out of him in the gym. He worked the bag until every muscle ached and begged him to stop.

He held the bag and rested his head against it panting hard.

“Just breathe.” He reminded himself.

He closed his eyes and let the tears fall, tears he’d never let her see. Still holding onto the bag he fell to his knees and sobbed. He was drowning and Lily’s plea had pulled him under.

He let it out, let the heartache rip him open, lay him bare. He’d have to get used to her calling him that, she wouldn’t stop and he knew it, something he hadn’t thought about but should have. The boys were old enough to know the difference, Lily wasn’t. Sildie was right, he was the only older male she’d ever known.

His breathing came back down to normal and the tears slowed. He stripped again and stood under the heat of the shower and let it all wash away. He was emotionally drained and suddenly extremely tired.

Collapsing into bed and stared at the ceiling. Eventually he drifted into a restless sleep with Lilys plea haunting him.

#gustaf skarsgard #Shattered Lives Ch 8 Pt 2

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