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httpsserene · 8 months

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𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐟𝟏 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥

𝘂𝗽𝗹𝗼𝗮𝗱 𝟰: 𝗱𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗲𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗰𝗶𝗮𝗿𝗱𝗼 / 𝗺𝗮𝘅 𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗻 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 | 𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗺𝘂𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you can't remember the last time you've gotten to spend more than three days at a time with both of your boyfriends. you understand how demanding their job is but, you just can't remember the last time they really exhausted you...pleasurably. and then winter break comes around , and they have all the time they need to make you lose your mind. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. explicit. overstimulation. light dom/sub. quickies. cunnilingus. vaginal fingering. vaginal sex. unsafe sex. safewords. creampie. come eating. squirting. hand job. masturbation. dacryphilia. mention of taking explicit photos. praise kink. aftercare. set after the 2023 season. no beta we die like carlos’ fuel system. 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 6.5k words 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: daniel ricciardo/max verstappen x black!fem!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: take me away • daniel caesar

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: set post 2023 season. mm, i luv me some danny caesar–i got to see him live this year 😛 i was originally gonna pick a classic country song in true american fashion to show some patriotism for the austin gp—as a black woman, i can attest that we love our country bangers—but take me away just fit perfectly. and daniel is definitely taking yall somewhere this upload—max and reader are just along for the ride 💀. i tried to write sub!max, i think it came across well, and ahead of time i sincerely apologize to the maxiel truthers…i think i may have slayed. i will not be paying for your therapy < 3 🙂 (and if you think i changed the summary, stfu no i didn’t 😌) enjoy y'all !!!!

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cross-posted on my ao3, htppsss

to see what kinktober uploads have already been completed or to see what's coming next check my f1 kinktober masterlist ! for all of my works see my general masterlist!

this past racing season was long; daniel knows that well; he went from being the third driver at red bull, to having a seat at alphatauri, to breaking his wrist–and still managed to recover to drive in the last five races. max can also account for how lengthy this season was; he dominated every race illustrated by his 10 consecutive wins, won his team the constructor’s championship 16 races in, won his third world driver’s championship the following week through a sprint race, and still had to stick around for five more races. but, daniel and max both know who has the best firsthand account of how prolonged and draining the formula one 2023 season was.

you.

daniel knows that you’re they’re biggest supporter; you’re a sweetheart. and while you haven’t vocalized your displeasure for the twenty-three races this year–he can feel your dejection. at the start of the season, everything was seen through rose-colored glasses; max was winning, the three of you were having champagne-drenched celebrations in hotel rooms–so filthy the poor staff probably had to incinerate the sheets. you were satisfied; and daniel was with you whenever red bull didn’t want to parade him around at a grand prix. but as the months progressed and as daniel got a seat, the demanding nature of formula one was observable. the longer season had stolen them from you–they were flying from country to country, the gaps between races only long enough to only have them home for two or three days at a time, before they had to fly out and adjust to a new time zone. leaving your two boyfriends unable to make a mess of you as often as you all crave in doing so. phone sex is hot–but it can lose its luster over almost nine months. they’ve been neglecting you–even though every time either one of them suggests that notion, you disagree vehemently– but, it’s the truth.

they pride themselves on the fact that they used to make you beg for them to stop drawing orgasms out of you...but recently your sex life has consisted of dry-humping like horny teenagers, frantic pussy-eating and cock-sucking, and quickies in the shower. so, max and daniel formulated a plan.

after abu-dhabi, the three of you returned home to max’s monaco flat and fell into bed. you’re comfortably laying completely on top of daniel, front to front, and your head is tucked under his chin, turned to the side to face max, who’s settled on his side facing the two of you, arm draped over your back, with his hand squeezing at your waist randomly as he talks to daniel. you’re fighting sleep and losing; eyelids fluttering closed every now and then against your will, breath slowing as you edge closer and closer to sleep. you're floating on the brink of unconsciousness until you're dragged away at the soft sounds of daniel and max rousing you.

“there ya’ go, honey,” murmurs daniel, his voice rumbling in his chest underneath you, “we got somethin’ to ask you, before we let ya sleep, sweet girl.”

max’s hand shifts to rub at the length of your back, and you clear the sleepy haze from your mind enough to nod your head and hum softly in question, “m’kay.”

daniel gently pulls your head from his neck with his tattooed hand on your nape, making sure your pretty eyes, foggy with sleep, make eye contact, “how do ya’ feel about spending december in australia, hmm? a sunny christmas–on the ricciardo ranch; you, me, max and our families–ain’t that perfect, honey?”

max smiles softly at your pout–you’re never one to appreciate having your sleep interrupted–before adding on to daniel’s question, “jimmy and sassy can stay with the sitter; i already spoke to her a few days ago. she’d be thrilled to have them, so you don’t have to worry about where’d they stay. i don’t think i can get pet passports in three days nor do i want to see how two bengal cats act on a private jet for twenty hours.”

a few seconds pass, max and daniel searching your face for any hint to a possible answer. you blink a few times, before you murmur faintly, “‘m okay with it…can i go to sleep now?”

max laughs tenderly, guiding your head back into daniel’s neck before he scoots closer and rests his own head on the australian’s shoulder, “yeah, mijn schatje. sleep well.”

daniel wraps the arm pinned under max around him, pulling him closer to drop a kiss on his forehead. his other hand falls on your back over the dutchman’s, caressing it softly. he holds the two of you as tight as he possibly can, the big grin on his face only seen by the ceiling. he has his whole world in his arms right now, but come christmas time, his whole universe–his family–will be under the same roof back home in australia.

the next three days are filled with an absurd amount of packing. max and daniel have five suitcases between the two of them—you have five for yourself; it doesn’t hurt to be prepared. the night before your flight, they watch you pace around the bedroom making sure there’s nothing important you’re forgetting. jimmy and sassy had been dropped off at the sitter’s, and max and daniel had already moved all the luggage to the entryway for the early flight. the two drivers had stopped trying to convince you to join them in the bed and cuddled together, knowing it’s best to let you work out your anxieties now so you don’t overthink on the flight.

as you start combing through the closet again, max whispers to daniel, “we could fuck the nerves out her right now, danny.”

daniel smacks max’s hip, smirking when he whines quietly, “no, maxy. she has to sit for an almost twenty hour flight, we can’t make that any more difficult for her.” the dutchman huffs, unhappy with the answer even though he knows it's the logical course of action.

dan continues, “remember: as soon as we get to the ranch and settle in—we'll be alone for a week before my parents come ‘n join us. we’ll have plenty of time to take her apart and put her back together.”

daniel was wrong. after y’all landed in perth, and made the drive out to the countryside—it was apparent that the three of you weren’t the only ones at the ranch. his parents had come early to make sure the ranch was prepped and fully stocked for your vacation, and prepared a home cooked dinner to welcome you in. dan can’t help his big smile from becoming a permanent fixture on his face as he watches his mom and dad fawn over you and max. grace pulls you into the house, instructing the men to bring the luggage inside while she gets to fixing you a plate heaping with barbecue. joe affectionately calls max ‘son’ with a tight hug, congratulating him on his third championship before they all make their way into the house.

the original plan is put on the back burner as daniel watches you and max bloom under the loving attention from his parents. the days passed quickly, all of them spent horsing around the farm; horseback riding, dirt biking, atv riding, making a trip out to the beach, eating good food, and sleeping well. dan sees max’s pale skin pinkening and your melanated complexion glowing with warmth from the caress of the australian sun. your afternoon naps are taken underneath the warm rays, stretching out in any slice of sun you can catch, bathing in it like a cat. max and dan do as many things as they can shirtless attempting to get their tan in as quick as possible—dan tans gracefully, max, on the other hand, burns like a lobster first before his tan becomes apparent.

they fucked you on the second day after your arrival, but not exactly how they were hoping too. it’s still a relatively short affair—for their standards, at least. while it quieted the need within you, it didn’t completely satisfy the urge for any of you. daniel had to coax you into biting a pillow to muffle your squeals, and have max nearly choke on his tattooed fingers to quiet his whining—dan himself clenched his jaw so tightly to prevent his own moans from escaping that he’s surprised he didn’t crack a tooth. he loves his parents, but he’s genuinely going to snap if he doesn’t get to ruin you and max without worrying if they could hear how he makes you and max beg for him.

on the fifth day, you wear your first sundress to lunch and max pulls daniel in the kitchen to muffle a scream into his chest.

“dan, baby—i love your parents,” max starts, his eye twitching, “you know i do! but, i can’t go another day without hearing her scream for me—for us.”

they’re only men. very desperate men. and you had the nerve to parade yourself in this flowy, yellow, strapless sundress at a meal they have to suffer through. they can’t even tear it off of you after, because dan’s parents have a chance of overhearing. but, what forces the australian to kindly kick his parents out of the house, is how you fail to stop yourself from drooling over them playing around in the pool—struggling to continue speaking with his mom as you sit on the pool’s ledge.

before dinner, dan showers by himself first, changing into fresh clothes. he then ushers you and max into the shower, ‘to rinse off the chlorine and sweat from the day,’ he says. but, he could care less about that. as soon as he hears the shower start, he practically sprints to the kitchen to see his mom and dad put the finishing touches on the burgers they fixed up.

daniel skids to a stop in the doorway, leaning against it in faux-relaxedness, and says, “howdy.” it’s silent for a minute; his dad stares at him blankly, and his mom eventually breaks and speaks plainly, “what is it, danny?”

daniel gasps in mock-disbelief, “why d’ya always think i want something from you? i can’t just be greeting my wonderful, loving, and understanding parents?”

grace stares at him, not fooled, “are you just saying ‘hi’?”

daniel stutters aimlessly looking to his dad for help, but joe just shrugs at him in a ‘you did this to yourself, son’ manner.

“maybe! well, no, actually…” daniel sulks, slinking into the kitchen, and resting against the counter next to his mom.

his mom hums knowingly, and gestures at him to start speaking.

“uh, so, you know i love having y’all around, right, and uh, it’s nice y’know—i mean, i don’t see ya’ as often as i want to, but uh—don’t get me wrong, you’re my parents, but uhm—“

joe sighs, “daniel, cut to the chase, please.”

daniel groans, before he leans his head back to look at the ceiling, “fine. look—we just expected to at least have one week to ourselves when we got here. not that y’all being here to surprise us is bad! you know that. but, uhm…we just made plans, i guess. a-and we kind of can’t do it, because, well…”

grace washes her hands as daniel continues to ramble through an unnecessary apologetic explanation. she turns the water off, drying her hands on a towel, and turns to her husband, pointing at daniel while rolling her eyes teasingly, before she cuts her son off, “daniel, we can leave tonight.”

daniel stops, head dropping to look at his mom in shock, “what?”

“we can leave tonight, if that’s what you’re trying to ask. your father and i don’t mind,” grace smiles gently, “we weren’t supposed to stay for this long anyways, we were just trying to get the ranch prepared for y’all, and you know how enamored we are with your girl and boy; we overstayed our welcome. we can go and come back a week before christmas with the rest of the family, danny.”

daniel perks up, “you guys don’t have to leave for that long, i don’t wanna kick you out—“

“daniel, please,” joe scoffs, walking over to clap daniel on the back, “you’re not kicking us out. we’ll be back on the seventeenth, alright. hopefully, that gives y’all enough time to work out your frustrations. we really don’t want to overhear or see anything—“

daniel pales, “okAY, thank you, yes—please don’t comeback until as late as y’all want, jesus christ. wait—did you hear the other night?! ohmygod…they’re going to kill me.”

joe and grace laugh, “no, we didn’t hear anything, danny. we just figured from how they were following you around in the morning—max couldn’t even look us in the eye, son.”

daniel groans, embarrassed, “don’t tell them anything about this okay? they’ll break up with me if they know i asked you to leave so i could have sex with them.”

his parents' laughter only gets louder, but they agree eventually after they indulge in teasing their son a little more.

dinner is pleasant; you and max remain unaware of the ricciardo’s intervention, enjoying the well-cooked meal and lighthearted conversation. when everyone’s stomach is full and the conversation quiets, grace and joe break the news that they unfortunately have to return to perth. you and max sadden, trying to convince daniel’s parents to stay a little longer—max’s eyes fail to hide his eagerness at their announcement, even though his voice manages to be completely sincere. daniel watches as his parents formulate a fake excuse about their departute before he gently reminds you two, “they’ll be back for christmas, babes. you’ll see them again.”

the two of you calm at daniel’s statement, and walk his parents out to the car, exchanging hugs and kisses before they drive off back to the city. daniel leads you two back into the house after you’ve watched his parents disappear down the road, and the shift in energy as soon as the door locks is missed by you.

you mindlessly amble back to the dining table, stacking the emptied plates and glasses and wandering into the kitchen to clean them. as soon as you turn the sink faucet on, a strong body pushes against your back, and presses you against the edge of the counter as their hand reaches around you to shut the water off. you turn around to tell-off whichever boyfriend did that, but before you can get any words out, you’re pulled into a filthy kiss.

your shocked gasp is muffled by max’s lips, and you half-heartedly attempt to pull away, but the dutchman chases your lips, not allowing you to stop. you give in with a sigh, allowing max to continue kissing you. he buries one hand in your hair, tilting your head to the side for a better angle, and licks at the seam of your lips. you squirm against him, not quite giving into the coaxing of his tongue, and max hums softly before he tugs at your bottom lip. you turn your head to the side, panting softly to suck in a few desperate breaths before max pulls you back and invades the opening of your lips. you squeal at the feeling of his tongue laving against yours, the lewd wet sounds of your mouths have your thighs pressing together. max brings his other arm to grasp around your waist, and pulls you against him, groaning into your mouth at the smallest amount of friction that movement provided. you feel lightheaded, your knees weakening, but max firmly holds you up, not letting you slip from his grasp. your hands come up to wrap around him, one feeling up his chest before resting around his neck, and the other hand digging into the meat of his back in search of stability. he hums at the ache of your nails and drops both of his hands to cup the back of your thighs right under your ass. he lifts you onto the counter, spreading your legs and shoving his body between them, while still managing to not break the kiss. at the show of strength you arch your back, whining highly, pushing your chest against his—he’s so strong. he eagerly starts tugging the sundress up your legs, making to expose your panties before he’s interrupted by a sudden heavy hand on the back of his neck.

max jerks away from you (you can finally catch your breath), his chest heaving, and his own whine fills the air at the weight of daniel’s hand.

“now, darlin’,” daniel addresses max with a smirk, “this wasn’t part of our plan, was it? you forget the script, maxy?”

max blushes a pretty pink, and murmurs, “no, daniel—sorry, danny.” dan hums at the apology, pressing a kiss to max’s warm cheek.

“w-what plan?” you timidly ask, still sitting on the counter, legs spread obscenely, dress skewed messily, and lips swelling from max’s ambition.

daniel chuckles, eyes shining at you hungrily, “mmm. how ‘bout we make our way to the bedroom and ‘ll show ya, sweetheart?”

you’re spread eagle in the middle of the bed, completely naked, with daniel fully dressed in between your legs sucking marks and pressing kisses on your thighs, max stripped down to his boxer-briefs on his side next to you, doing the same to your neck and chest. you’re squirming viciously just from the feeling of his beard scraping against your inner thighs, squeals ripping from your throat when he leaves a hickey or bites at the meat of your thigh. the australian’s pupils are blown wide, as he watches you try and muffle your cries behind your hand—if this is how you’re responding to the two of them thoroughly refreshing their claim on you, he’s thrilled to see how you’ll lose your mind as the night goes on. pulling his head away, daniel presses his thumb into one of the bruises he left and your back arches deeply–you choke on your squeal, thighs slamming shut around his hand.

“none of that now, sweetheart,” dan instructs firmly, “‘s just me, you, and max, honey. no need to quiet those sweet sounds of yours, alright?”

you nod wildly, stumbling over your agreement, “y-yeah, danny. ‘ll be- i’ll be loud for you guys.”

max moans at your words from where his lips were tugging at your nipple, pulling away to raise himself back to your lips, thirstily tasting your desperation from its source. dan allows max to bruise up your mouth, and leave his own beard burn around your lips, as he undresses himself down to his briefs.

“max…max, maxy, babe,” daniel softly calls a few times, failing to get the impatient man’s attention, “max, look at me.” the switch from dan’s soft tone to a deeper, base filled sound has max snapping away to look at daniel, panting roughly.

“be good f’me and give yourself a hand, darlin’,” dan commands, and max sighs lovingly at the endearment, “you can manage that right, maxy? while i get our sweet girl ready to take you, hm?”

max whimpers, “yes, danny,” and shifts to sit upright, pulling his underwear off and wrapping his large hand around himself. dan purrs, “good boy. her sweet cunt’s already drippin’ for us, maxy. won't take me long to stretch ‘er open for you.” you keen, humiliated at the way dan speaks about you like you’re not in the room with them. daniel tugs your legs open again, hiding his laughter in the plush meat of your thigh, but you can feel the smirk against your skin.

embarrassed, you whine hushedly, hands fisting into the sheets by your side, “mean.”

daniel hums uncaringly at your remark, “mean? don’t worry, honey–when i finish with you, you’ll think ‘m mean for a very different reason.” he doesn’t give you a chance to ponder his words, and a firm drag of his tongue across your cunt destroys any chance for your thought processes. this time around, your moans are clear, echoing around the room. the press of daniel’s tongue is unforgiving and working intently at your clit. your thighs clamp around his head, not allowing the australian to escape even though he can feel your hips bucking away, trying to escape the consistent stimulation on one of your most sensitive spots. when one of your hands flies down to tug at his curls, he relents his assault and switches to prodding his tongue against your opening. he moans depravedly against your entrance, the noise vibrating through you, causing your shriek to pierce the air. he eats you out like a man starved; savagely shoving his tongue deeper inside you, curling against your walls, nose bumping against your clit, mouth moving like he’s truly trying to eat you alive. he ignores the ache of his jaw, the tightness of his briefs, how his beard scratches your skin; and he smoothly slips a finger into you, beginning thoroughly stretch you out.

it’s absolutely obscene-sounding. daniel works his way up to three fingers, and any previous qualms he had about you being too quiet are resolved. your whines are constant at the insistent invasion of daniel’s curling digits, and based on the way your legs are trembling, he can tell you're nearing the precipice. what’s even more erotic, is the way your cries harmonize with max’s own grunts of pleasure; the dutchman’s hips buck into the frantic pace of his hands and danny wouldn’t be surprised if max comes before he even gets inside you. daniel sits back on his heels, his fingers still digging deeper inside you, forcefully pressing against your g-spot. with his left hand, daniel knocks max’s hand away, ignoring the responding yowl of displeasure, and fists max’s cock on his own, “doin’ a little too much, maxy. our desperate girl deserves to come first, anyways—lemme set the pace for you, darlin’.” max suffers under danny’s ministrations; the extreme shift down in tempo, the constant attention on the head of his cock, a finger pressing at his slit or the vein along his underside alternatingly. you, on the other hand, are being pushed closer and closer to your orgasm. daniel’s thumb joins, rubbing quick circles of your clit–and you scream out, pleasure overriding you. when your moans start to blend into breathy little ah-ah-ah’s, he slips his fingers free from the tight clasp of your cunt, and releases his hold on max’s cock.

you sob achingly, begging daniel to make you cum, dismayed cries of, “no! danny, why’d you stop, please, make me cum,” falling from your lips as max mewls next to you, his own hands trying to force danny’s back around him. daniel shushes you, and motions for max to come closer. max flies forward happily, his whines cutting off at daniel’s attention. he man-handles max into hovering over you in missionary, his cock resting against your fluttering cunt, waiting for permission. your cries quiet, and your heart races with anticipation for max to bury himself in you. danny’s left hand grips at max’s corresponding hip, and his right hand slips in the narrow space between you two, and he presses the flushed arousal in you. and the australian cannot stop running his mouth.

“that’s ‘t, baby–nice n’ easy for ya’–mmm–he’s splitting you open isn’t he–yeah, soak ‘im, babe, get him nice and wet–no, sweetheart, don’t run from it–yeahhh just like that, you take ‘t so well–”

your own orgasm suprises you, otherwise you would’ve at least made an attempt to tell the two men. max hasn’t even gotten halfway inside you and you’re cumming; back-arching, toes-curling, hands rushing forward to scratch down max’s back, eyes screwed shut, and walls clamping tightly around him. max is whining above you, flinching away from the hot grasp of your inner walls, but daniel won’t let him pull out.

“danny, danny! please–oh–i-i-i’m gonna–not gonna last–‘m gonna cum, if i stay inside her,” max admits, sobbing embarrasingly.

daniel laughs softly from behind max, and shifts so his front is pressed to the dutchman’s back. max shivers at the sound, the hair on the back of his neck rising. “aww, you can’t handle it, darling? don’t worry, i’ve changed my plans for you, anyways,” daniel smugly whispers into max’s ear. dan brings both of his hands to the younger’s waist, and forces him deeper inside of you, ignoring the way max cries sensitively and keeps pushing him forward until he bottoms out. you and max let out twin squeals from the white-hot flash of pleasure; you struggle to adjust to his size as quickly as daniel forced him in–you pulsate around him, it’s like you’re still trying to drag him further in and push him out at the same time. daniel presses a kiss to max’s shoulder blade and praises him, “see, maxy? i knew you could do it—such a good boy f’me.”

max’s eyes roll back, and he can’t fight it–he cums, loudly. his limbs weaken and his body collapses over yours, head falling into your neck, and his lewd moans vibrate through your raw skin. the younger’s body covers you completely, and your knees come up to cradle max’s hips, encouraging him to thrust through the aftershocks. daniel leans back, continuing to bathe the two of you with praise as he lets you guys shudder through the come down. a couple minutes pass before your legs relax and max’s moans die down to breathy hums, as both of your chests heave as you try to regulate your breathing.

“feelin’ good, my loves?” daniel questions tenderly.

you’re the first to respond, a sated smile sent the australians way, “so good, danny.” max sighs out a breathy “yeah,” muffled into your chest. daniel brightens, “alrighty–maxy, fuck her properly now, and make her cum again.” the dutchman grunts in disbelief, “what? no, i-i can’t, i just came–”

dan cuts max off, “you can’t or, you won’t?” max’s breath stutters at the sudden dominance in daniel’s tone, sitting up to turn his head to look at the older man incredulously. the smile on dan’s face is gone, his expression suddenly firm and unyielding–max can only drop his gaze away from daniel’s eyes, avoiding the piercing gaze.

“max, look at me,” the australian states unflinchingly, and the younger man’s eyes fly to meet his at the command.

“what’s your color, darlin’?”

with his tongue flicking out to wet his lips nervously, max mutely whispers, “green.” daniel’s piercing gaze drops to you and he repeats the question, “sweetheart, what’s your color?”

you squirm under his intense attention—max’s hips stuttering at the stimulation, and your bruised brown thighs squeeze at his waist until he stops—but the slight flare of pleasure that races up your spine decides your answer, “green, danny.”

a smirk spreads across daniel’s lips, “see, you can, maxy,” the younger blushes deeply at his teasing croon, “now, be a sweet prince for me, and fuck our sweetheart, hm?” and with a pinch to max’s hip, he sinks in you deeply with an oversensitive sigh, before he pulls out and sets a slow rhythm to allow you both a little more time to recover. the drag of his cock is coaxing soft shuddery breaths out of your lips, and sharp over-sensitive whines from max. his hands are trembling from where they’re grip flexes on your waist, veins popping with the strength of his grasp, sure to leave a mark on your darker skin. dan’s hands halt the gentle roll of his hips, before the man leads him at a quicker pace. max throws his head back onto daniel’s shoulder, overwhelmed at the feeling of your tight, soaking wet cunt, and cries out “too much—ngh—i-it’s too much!” but aside from all of his whines, he’s getting hard again. unlike max, the sensitivity from your orgasm had faded quickly—if anything, it’s doubling the amount of pleasure you’re feeling. desperate for more, you plant your feet on the bed and start rolling your hips to meet max halfway; moaning yearningly at the change in position.

the younger man frantically tries to force your hips back down, the friction added from you meeting his thrusts is too great. “heyheyhey—none of that, prince,” daniel quickly tugs max’s hands away from your waist, one hand firmly holding them against the younger’s chest, “remember, we made a promise to give her so many orgasms to make up for how mean we’ve been to her. you don’t want to break that promise; right, darling?” max tries to hide his face in dan’s shoulder, but it’s too late—he starts sobbing. daniel watches how the tears rain down max’s cheeks, and how his face crumples so prettily—is it weird that making his usually unbothered boyfriend cry, turns him on?

max sniffles, “n-no, danny. -ll do it, i-i wanna make her cum.” not wanting to disappoint you any further, he starts quickening his strokes on his own, eventually outpacing the rhythm daniel set for him. it dawns on max quickly; he’s not going to last, again. he makes the mistake of looking at the blissed out expression on your face, the knot in his tummy tightening as he watches how your mouth falls open in a moan, wet and inviting. he drops his eyes away, but they fall on where the two of you are connected; the sight causes him to choke on his breath. his own thrusts have forced his cum out of you, frothing at your entrance, smeared all over your labia and staining your inner thighs. if he could eat you out and fuck you at the same time—he’d be doing it. max urgently asks daniel, “d-danny, ‘m gonna cum—please, can i cum?” ignoring max, dan’s hand lets go of max’s, and falls to let his middle and ring finger rub vigorously at your clit. your body jackknifes, a scream leaving your lips at the sudden addition, you choke out a warning, “g’na cum! pleasepleaseplease—” and when daniel’s thumb sneaks down to press gently at where you're wrapped snugly around max, almost like he’s trying to slip in alongside his cock—white flashes behind your eyes and you’re cumming hard.

daniel hums, satisfied, “now, you can cum, maxy.” the younger had already started coming the second he started speaking. it’s erotic—how the two of yours’ orgasm feeds off of each other. every clench of your cunt has you squeezing tightly around max, causing him to thrust in you deeper, which in turn has you pulsating around him tightly, and the cycle continues. max rides out the two of your orgasms viciously this time around, his hips slamming into you, forcing himself as deep as possible wanting to empty every last dreg of his cum within you. you can only whimper brokenly, not making an effort to calm his grinds, wanting to savor anything you can get before he pulls out of you. with max’s last pump of his hips in you, daniel slowly guides him out of you. the two of you hiss, extremely over sensitive from the two times you’ve cum, so daniel tries to make the affair as smooth as he possibly can. with a squelching pop, max is freed from the tight grasp of your cunt, and dan leads him to lie down next to you on the bed.

you’re still floating, not a single thought in your head, a deep sense of satisfaction coating your mind, but you can vaguely hear daniel checking on max, making sure he didn’t push him too far. you hum quietly under your breath, almost like a purr, eyes shut blissfully as you allow yourself to relax in your afterglow. you faintly register daniel slipping in between your legs, his broad shoulders pressed against the underside of your thighs. you feel his left hand gently press at the raw skin of your thigh, and you fuzzily manage to move it over for him, thinking that he’s trying to clean you up.

daniel can only stare. the pink skin of your hole has turned to a deeper red, with how max bullied your cunt. his mouth falls open, entranced, at the sight of your bruised pussy winking at him, struggling to close, and he moans softly as the pulsing of your cunt starts pushing max’s cum out of you. the creamy, frothy, white fluid slowly sliding out of you and down your ass. his tongue wets his lips—he wants a taste. dan drops the towel he was holding in his right hand, and brings the now empty hand up to spread your lips with a ‘v’ of his fingers. his eyes flick up to your face, and once he sees that you're still floating, he takes a gentle pass over your entrance with two fingers, collecting yours and max’s combined release. he sucks the mess clean, and a groan rumbles through his chest. fuck—he needs more. daniel quickly finds himself breathing softly over your cunt for the second time tonight, and he can feel how your thighs already start shaking at the exhales of his breath against you. he laps his tongue once in a broad stripe over you, and moans depravedly—and then, he pretty much forced to eat you out; why let this go to waste.

the minute his tongue slips inside you, your thighs slam shut around his head, trying to halt his overeager movements. daniel doesn’t care, he’d happily suffocate in your cunt if it meant he got to eat max’s cum out of you for the last time. when he slips two of his fingers in to coax more of the cum max fucked deep in you out, your hand flies down and tugs at his curls. daniel pulls his mouth away, growling sharply at the pain from the grip of your hand, but he steadfastly dives back in—he’s going to swallow every last drop you’ll give him. “hngh—too much, –anny, can’t take it—my tummy feels weird—it hurts!” daniel’s hips starting grinding against the bed, and he’s made aware of how painfully hard he’s gotten throughout the night; he hasn’t cum once. daniel moans against your cunt, panting against you, “ya got one more f’me right, sweetheart? yeah, ya do—just let me taste you, yeah?” daniel tunes out your cries again, and brushes his nose against your clit as he laves his tongue over you picking up every drop of cum the two of you have spilled on your swollen cunt. his fingers start to curl upwards as he pulls them out, dragging wetness out from the depths of your walls, and you squeal, any pleads that you planned to say have been suddenly erased from your throat at the sudden pain-pleasure that bursts behind your eyes. your core tightens, and you seize against the bed cumming for the third time this night at daniel’s insistence. this is the most intense orgasm all night, and it feels never ending; all of your senses feel like they’re burning hot, nerves tingling from your scalp to your curled toes. what you’ve failed to recognize is that you're gushing all over daniel’s face. he practically gets waterboarded from where he was pressed against your cunt, but once he realizes that he’s made you squirt, he happily starts drinking down each spray of your fluid, uncaring of how his beard is drenched with your release, and how it puddles underneath your ass.

he swallows you down to the very last drop, plump lips massaging your labia sweetly. he backs off your pussy, switching to your thighs to collect any wetness he missed out on. when your hand tugs at his curls again, pulling him away when the beard burn gets too much, daniel rises to his knees over you. he tugs his cock out of his briefs, the tip flushed the deepest red he’s ever seen it, and it throbs hotly in his grasp. he uses the hand soaked with your squirt to roughly rub himself off, tattooed thigh spasming, and it takes less than ten pumps of his hand before he’s cumming. with every spray of his hot cum that lands against your swollen cunt, your hips jerk—even that feels too much.

when daniel finishes, he moans at the picture he painted on you—would you let him take a picture if he asked? but his fantasy is disrupted when you squirm up the bed, your hand falling to cup protectively over your cunt, thighs tightening around your hand, and you murmur repeatedly, “no more, no more.” max coos quietly from where he’s laying, still just as fucked out as you, but he tries to soothe your cries. he sweetly pulls you into his chest when tears slip out of your eyes, petting at you clumsily, not quite yet having regained complete control of his limbs. “did so good, schatje. daniel did just like he promised—i-if, if you let him clean you up, we can cuddle and go straight to bed, ok? be good, j-just a little longer.”

you sob messily into max’s embrace, but after a few minutes with max and daniel both reassuring you that they’ve finished pulling orgasms out of you, and comfortingly massaging the already setting soreness of your muscles—your cries die down to sniffles, and you slowly spread your legs open for danny. daniel stares at the mess he created this time around, but dismisses the urge to lick it off you; his only goal right now is to properly clean you up, and make sure you go to sleep feeling satisfied and worn-out. as gently as possible, he takes turns wiping both your thighs and cunt, and max’s thighs and cock, switching when either of you says it’s too much. it takes longer than it usually does, but it doesn’t upset daniel as long as it means the two of you are comfortable.

“okay, okay,” daniel soothes sweetly, “i’m done. you both did so good for me tonight.”

max blushes at the praise, and with a voice as airy as silk, you whisper, “you ‘ere good too, danny—made me feel r’lly good, thank you.” daniel smiles, his heart warming at your sweet words, “thank you, honey. you’re always so sweet to me.”

“now, let’s move this party to the bathroom so both of you can pee, and take a bath before we sleep, i’ll get some snacks for you to eat too,” daniel orders softly, “i took a lot from the two of you tonight—so let me make sure i put you back together, okay?

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bluexiao · 2 years

Text

#are you leaving? are you leaving me?

—how would they react if you stormed off after an argument (for the first time) and they thought you were leaving them for good?

CHARACTERS. Aether, Albedo, Ayato, Childe, Cyno, Dainsleif, Diluc, Gorou Heizou, Itto, Kaeya, Kazuha, Scaramouche, Thoma, Venti, Xiao, Zhongli; gn! Raader

THEMES. Angst; Hurt (no or with) comfort; can be reversed comfort too; has varying intensities so there are others that has fluff/crack (im looking at you heizou and kazu)

WARNINGS. may emphasize venti’s drinking on his part

NOTES. I was supposed to post another one but I really can’t stand not answering this request so good luck with two consecutive angst everyone~ I’ll post the other one next week!

ZHONGLI would look rather calm, no matter how big the argument was. He normally would not let the argument go further, but today was rather stressful, even for someone like him. With all the arguments at work and also to those who would ask for his help even when he was just on his way home, and now, everything piled up and he… maybe he needed a bit of rest.

“Let us discuss this tomorrow, beloved, I-”

However, all he heard was the sound of the doors closing, and there was no sight of you in the room.

He sighs heavily, thinking that you probably had only gone out of the room to calm down. Of course, he only realized he was the only one in the house when he woke up and there’s still not a sight of you beside him. Startled, he stood up and found himself scavenging the entire house—could you have left him?—this thought was all in his mind but as soon as he turned to the living room, there you were, sleeping so peacefully on the couch. He heaves out a sigh immediately, kneeling in front of you, taking your hands to his and bringing them to his lips. He had never in this life felt so anxious—it had been awhile, he thinks, but maybe this was more…-

“Zhongli?” He heard you call for his name by then, but before you could fully comprehend what was happening, he was hushing at you, whispering so slowly to not awaken you any further.

“There’s no need to wake, my love.” It’s going to be alright.

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

XIAO and you had been arguing for the whole week. Actually, he only showed up today after being gone for three straight days. Three! And now he expects you to pretend that everything is okay?

“What is the matter with you, Xiao? Really? Three days?“

He clicks his tongue, not even looking at you as he crosses his arms.

“Really? That’s how you’re going to respond? Talk to me! Please!”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Anything!”

XIAO purses his lips and by then, you’ve had enough.

You had always seen him disappear in front of you and you figured that this was just the same—you were only doing what he had been doing to you. However, unbeknownst to you, his mind was already racing—-you were going to leave him, this was for sure. But… why does his chest hurt very much? Does the idea of not having you in his life that-

He falls to his knees upon realizing the answer to his question.

This is it, he thinks, he had finally ruined the only thing that was beautiful in his life.

When you returned to the Inn that same night from your night stroll, you were taken aback by the sight of your lover sitting on the bed, head in his hands and upon your entrance, he raised his head, and with shaky eyes, he whispered, “Y/n? Is that… you?”

There was disbelief in his voice, you could only stand still when he slowly stood and found his way to you, reaching out his hand. You let him when he caressed your cheek—how could you not? Not when he was looking at you as if you were a cloud, about to fade away upon his touch.

“Is that really you?” Only then did you find your strength to nod slowly and silently as a response. He was silent for a while, golden eyes scanning yours before he released a breath of relief, leaning his head over your shoulder and pressing a kiss on your neck.

“Thank you… for coming back to me.”

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

VENTI has been drinking far more than he usually would lately. Of course, he does not even have the mind to comprehend what you were saying before you left him in the bar that night, and by the time he came home, morning came and apparently, the house was empty.

He was groggy and almost too sleepy when he scoured the whole home and soon, the whole city. Maybe he just forgot? What did you even say to him before you had gone?

He can just remember you screaming at him.

“Have you seen Y/n?” Everyone could only shake their heads as an answer to the bard, some even whispering how you had finally decided to leave him all alone.

“Oh, no, it’s nothing… I just can’t remember where they went so…” he scratches the back of his head, but despite the smile on his face, this was far from what he truly feels on the inside.

Perhaps… you truly had gone and left him?

Ah, no, no, maybe it was just a commission so far away… right?

He sits at the bar but no matter how many drinks he had gotten, there was no erasing this stupid feeling on his chest that taunts in his mind that maybe you were never going back.

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

Someone like THOMA is rare. It would take forever for you to find someone else like him—not that you would ever do so.

And at that moment—at that very moment, that was all in your mind. And thus, you could not do anything else but find your way out. Maybe your mind would calm down once you’ve breathed the freshness of the air and felt the stars ground you back and remind you of your worth and commitment to this relationship.

THOMA on the other hand was too tempted to rush to your side, already wanting to take you to his embrace and cast all the negativity aside.

Apparently, it proved the same for you and you both were already running to each other, engulfing one another in each other’s arms.

“I’m sorry… I did not mean to raise my voice, Y/n…”

You sank into his shoulder as you shook your head, “I’m sorry as well, Thoma…”

Usually, he had more words to say, but he thinks this will be enough for now. Just having you here is enough.

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

Loving SCARAMOUCHE takes a lot. Being patient with him is far more.

It does lead you to often walk off and leave for the meantime to give space to the both of you—it’s just the stress, the pressure of being a Harbinger, you’d reason to yourself.

But that was earlier.

Now was the second time you had walked out of the conversation (argument) for today.

You sighed heavily and his subordinates all around you could tell just by one look that something was going on, but none had the courage to go and speak to you about it.

It was nightfall when SCARAMOUCHE realizes that you were nowhere to be found.

As the camp was surrounded by the forest, ideally, there was nothing out there—not unless you’ve decided to leave without another word and escape from his grasp.

As if he’d let you—but he doubts that it was what you did.

Right?

“Where’s Y/n?”

“W-We… We do not have any idea, my lord, maybe the lord Y/n merely went out on a walk-”

“I don’t care,” he snaps, “find them! Now!”

He chews on the inside of his cheeks as he paces around the campsite—where are you even?! For all, he knows you could’ve been attacked by some Treasure Hoarder and maybe other beasts out there!

“How could you be so careless!” he disregards how his shoulders eased down and his breath evened just as soon as he saw you safe and sound.

“If you’re going to fight with me again, I might just very well leave,” you glared at him and he tenses up. Every move you made makes him flinch and when he realizes that you were walking off to the tent, he follows suit with a heavy sigh.

“Wait,” he speaks as soon as you both got inside the tent, and when you stopped, he was inspecting you, making sure, “you’re not hurt, are you?” he asks, far calmer than he usually was the whole day—or maybe it was just the exhaustion. Either way, it was enough for you to do the same and silently shake your head.

“Why? Are you worried?”

He scoffs but says nothing more.

Oh, you knew that he definitely was. Unknowingly much more than that.

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

KAZUHA does not come home that often. Actually, does he ever come home? One minute he’s there and the next moment, before you knew it, he was already saying goodbye to you.

“Is this how we’re going to be? Kazuha?”

Those were your last words to him before you left him on the docks that night, turning away and leaving without even hearing if he had an answer or not.

You see, he figured that it would soon fade away, your anger would dissipate just as the other sailors said, telling him that’s how their own lovers say goodbye sometimes and they’d still be there waiting for them.

But the thing is, he was wrong for believing them.

By the time he had returned from their trip to Inazuma, instead of seeing your usual figure in the docks, waving at him cheerfully with a smile and tears attempting to escape your eyes, you were nowhere to be found.

His heart sinks, far enough that Beidou and the others could not even find him a second after for he was already rushing to your place—are you still there?

Please still be there.

You weren’t.

KAZUHA could feel his knees weaken but they were unmoving. When was the last time he had felt this way? He could remember, but he could not have expected to feel this too soon.

Everything was going well—or was that all in his mind?

He stands all alone in the house, and even if you do come home, he wonders if he really is doing the right thing to keep all of these like this.

You were right.

Is this really how you two were going to be?

The uncertainty kills him, and he realizes that this must be the pain you had been feeling as well whenever he was gone.

But now, it’s him who was tasting his own medicine.

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

KAEYA has a knack of teasing you, maybe far too much.

Ah, when you walked out, at first, it felt like he just won. But not a minute longer, his brother was already sending him a dirty look. “How can you act like that? Pathetic.”

May it be the harsh words his brother had told him or the realization that he may very well had been a jerk, he felt an unpleasant flutter in the pit of his stomach—he definitely was in the wrong this time.

“Y/n?” Of course, he knew where to find you, but whether he did the right thing or not, he could only contemplate it only afterwards.

“Why did you follow me, Kaeya?”

“Babe…”

“Don’t babe me,” you snapped your head at him and sent him a glare, “that was embarrassing, Kaeya! What do you think I should’ve done? Stayed?!”

“I know, I know…” he attempts to bring a hand over your shoulder to console you, and when you let him, he sighs in relief. “I’m sorry, I should’ve known better.”

At this point, he was tempted to kiss the pout on your lips but he resists.

Maybe later, he thinks.

But he’s glad that you at least let him have a chance once more.

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

Now you do feel bad for ITTO whenever he gets accused over something and he gets jail time over it. Most of the time, it’s really unavoidable, as he does things without fear that even if he did have a good motive, he gets misunderstood easily.

The problem is, his jail time was eating away all your time with him, and now you doubt that there will ever be a time when he will stay, even for a week without being too far away inside his prison cell that the Tenryou Commission had always settled him in.

“Ugh this is giving me a headache,” you groaned as you attempted to walk off in the middle of the argument (actually, it was just a conversation that was slowly getting heated).

“Wait, wait, wait, where are you going? You’re not leaving are you?” he immediately tries to stop you and you could only narrow your eyes at him with a hand still on your forehead. “Are you angry? Oh please don’t be angry, babe, please?”

“I’m not leaving-”

“You look like you are!”

“But I’m really not!”

“Wait, really?”

Your hand fell from your forehead to your eyes with a heavy sigh.

“Babe, please, let me take a breather, my head is aching.”

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

HEIZOU knew it the moment you stormed out of the door. He knew it right from his guts and yet he did not move—he was frozen, as if someone attempted to glue his feet on the floor and prevent him from stopping you.

It turns out, that person was him—he was the one stopping himself.

He knows very well how unpredictable people are, how emotions can make them do something that no one else expects, not even people they were very close with.

At this point, HEIZOU was at a loss.

Maybe if he went out and followed you then he will be able to ask for your forgiveness?

But it had been awhile since you’ve gone out, who knows where you’ve gone, and what if you go back home anyway and he’s not there?

Now what should he do?!

He spends the whole time thinking and brooding to himself that he did not even realize that it was nighttime already. He already had a plan in mind—of course, he should follow you! Maybe you encounter some sort of danger and–when so suddenly, the door opened and revealed your figure coming in. You were startled upon seeing him still sitting in the same place you left him but soon pretended as if you did not see him and went on to attempt walking away further inside the house.

Unfortunately for you, he was already standing up by the time you passed by his form and before you know it, he had wrapped his arms around you, pulling you by the waist and your back pressed to his chest.

“Leave me be, Zou… Is this not what you want? For me to leave you alone?”

“Y/n… don’t be like that-”

“You can say those to me but I cannot say it to you?”

You break away from his grasp even if he tried holding on.

And when he was left all alone in the living room did he have time to contemplate the seriousness of the situation.

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

GOROU is going nuts the second you turned around. He was debating with himself if he should immediately stop you before you step out but his feet only moved when you were almost closing the door, it was just a good thing that he was able to move and stop you in time.

“A-Are you leaving? Where are you going?” Are you leaving me? He was about to say but he bit his lip in order to stop himself.

“Gorou… I need some air-”

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Y/n.” he says but he doesn’t let go of the sleeve of your shirt.

“Rou..”

“I’m really sorry, I did not mean to say those to you and raise my tone, I’m really really sorry-”

“Baby,” you immediately stop him as soon as you faced the man, holding both of his hands with yours and looking at him straight on the eye.

“I’m not leaving you… okay? I just-I just needed air and we can talk about this later, okay?”

He bites his lip further and this did not go unnoticed to you. You had to let go of one of his hands to bring it on his chin and use your thumb to pull his lower lip out of his teeth gently.

“You’ll injure yourself…” you muttered with a frown before landing a kiss on his cheek.

“I’ll be back, okay?”

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

DILUC wants to stop you but ends up being too engulfed with his pride to even move a little bit.

Don’t go. He wanted to say those two words but it got stuck in his throat.

You were probably the one who realized that you were leaving without a word and had instinctively gone back inside the manor after only taking a few steps. When you went inside, he was standing still, still in the same place you left him not moments later.

“Luc?” you called him and only then did he regain his senses, flinching upon your touch when you took hold of his cheek, only to relax and kean onto the warmth of your palm.

“I’m sorry, I left without a word-”

“It’s understandable,” he interrupts, bringing a hand over your own, “I was at fault, allow me to apologize to you first.”

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

DAINSLEIF had been through a lot over the years, But it seems he had not learned that much as he lets you walk out and off, ready to let you go at that very moment. But was he?

He was holding your hand before you could take even a step out of the door,

“I apologize, I didn't mean to raise my voice, Y/n.”

You pondered in silence and despite not being the type, he felt compelled to say more, “I hope… you can forgive me.”

You sighed and for a moment, he thought about the worst—-were you going to tell him how sick you are? You probably wouldn’t… but he wouldn’t be surprised if you would.

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

CYNO is far too logical for this.

So he does not really understand the meaning why you stormed off like that.He had seen others do it but… what does he do? It’s not like he had experienced this before.

“Where are you going?” he stopped you just in time before you had gone far away, hand wrapped on your wrist, effectively stopping you from stepping away any further.

“Cyno…”

“If you’re going to leave, say it to my face.” he says even if the thought brings an unpleasant feeling in his stomach. Will you end it? He wanted to ask, just to get it done with, but he couldn’t find his voice. Why was it so difficult to say?

Maybe he really does not want to say it.

But what should he do if you do the very thing he couldn’t comprehend?

Out of all the questions thrown his way, this one was probably one of the only things he couldn’t answer.

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

CHILDE’s naturally competitive personality does have its ups and downs. And clearly, this one is one of the latter.

It’s not so often that you find yourself walking out but you do have those times when you’re just too pissed at him that you couldn’t bear to see his face.

“Hey! Babe! I’m sorry, I didn't mean it!” he was following you, of course, he was. He just doesn’t know when to stop, that’s who he was and is—even you couldn’t find a way out of it.

“Oh, please, you did! And can you stop following me?! I told you I’m just going to take a walk!”

You two had probably caught other people’s attention by then but you kept on walking.

You look back to where he was and you find that he is not there anymore. Feeling slightly disappointed, you turned around, now stepping calmly further on.

Unknowingly however, he is indeed following you. Of course, he needs to make sure you are safe, especially since you’re stepping out of Liyue.

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

AYATO is well-versed with his words and his expressions. It was how he grew up and how he went through his social gatherings each and every day.

This was the first time he had let you walk out of your own, and that was because he thought that you needed it—taking a fresh breath of air would always help someone clear their mind, and he knew full well that you were only stepping out for that very same reason.

He is rather calm and would stay so, but he would stay outside of the door, waiting for you, and by the time you had done so, he will be there.

“Shall we discuss about it or do you want to have cuddles instead?” he smiles at you warmly, maybe even too much that you forgot all your anger already.

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

ALBEDO knows you very well, maybe too much. However, since this is the first time that you had done such a thing, he was rather taken aback and it kept him thinking the whole time that you were gone.

He looks over the way out of the laboratory and frowns. It has been a while since you’ve walked off, will you be okay? Should he go and follow you?

He ponders even more.

Your safety is indeed more important, and thus, he decides to go and search for you. Just as he was about to, however, you were already back, but you did see him prepare to go out of the laboratory—which he never does so often.

“Are you going back to Mondstadt?” you asked him even if you still felt hesitant after the argument earlier. You had cleared your mind but you still couldn’t find yourself looking him directly in the eye.

This didn’t go unnoticed to the other, however, as he stepped in front of you and brought his hand on your chin, instinctively making you meet his eyes—ah, what a wrong move, you began to think.

“I apologize for what I did earlier, I must have hurt your feelings.” He looks away for a moment and composes himself, “I was quite unsure what to think when you left. I admit, I felt rather guilty. With that, I am very sorry, love. Can you forgive me?”

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

AETHER and you never argued that much. They were all easily prevented and he has the person who has the longest patience you’ve ever known.

Today was only different, driven by exhaustion and the pressure of his identity, it was easy for anyone to ask him for help and him to accept them. You, on the other hand, felt that it was getting out of hand and told him to say no at least a couple of times. Of course, the kind person AETHER is, he still went on a big mission that left you hanging for a whole month. Day by day you were left praying he would send word to you that he was doing alright—that he was alive, but nothing.

When he came back, it turns out he had gone to Inazuma and even Liyue’s Chasm! Of course, you were relieved, but you figured that it was too much.

For both of you.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

When you turned around, you almost knew that he would not follow you.

How could he? When he knew as well that keeping this up would only hurt the two of you more.

Your chest felt heavy, every step you took carried al the weight you’ev had on your shoulders this whole time.

Of course, it was hard to leave. Who were you to think that this was the only way to lessen the pain?

You turn around not long after, only to find him running after you, even crashing you into an embrace that you could not have ever expected. By then, tears were already falling down your eyes without your permission—why does it feel so good? His warmth—it feels… calming.

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#genshin x reader #genshin fluff #xiao x reader #kazuha x reader #heizou x reader #genshin angst #ayato x reader #zhongli x reader #albedo x reader #childe x reader #venti x reader #diluc x reader #dainsleif x reader #cyno x reader

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fatswaps · 6 months

Text

NURSE BODY THEFT

Lucas had been a lovely young man his whole life, with a passion for helping others out. It was why he'd studied medicine to become a nurse. At only 26 years old, the young man had it all- a well paying job at a local hospital, an amazing body he'd worked hard for, and a pretty decent reputation in his neighborhood. This reputation was mostly because of his part time job, which involved helping his sickly neighbor Hector.

Hector was an old veteran, the man was 87 years old, and his body was simply ruined. His hair was patchy and balding, with a completely white beard on his wrinkly facem his eyesight wasn't very good hence why he had to wear glasses and his 5,4 height was certainly not complimented by his morbid obesity. The old guy's health had been in decline for years, but Lucas was determined to make his last years more comfortable for the old man.

Unbeknownst to Lucas, Hector didn't see him as a means of making peace with his old age, but rather a way to escape it. One day, he invited Lucas over and showed him a strange device. Telling Lucas that it was an heirloom from his days as a soldier, Hector explained the device's purpose.

"This here is what the military called a swap gun. It's used to switch the bodies of two people that are consecutively shot by it"

Lucas seemed intrested, but his expression changed as Hector begun to explain what his idea was

"I'm getting older Lucas, and I want to feel what it's like to be young again, at least for a few hours. Would you let me switch bodies with you? It's completely reversible"

Feeling sorry for the old man, Hector sighed and responded

"If you really think it'll work, then sure. It's only a few hours, right?"

with that, the old man handed Lucas the device as his bedridden self was unable to stand long enough to do the job. With a deep breath, Lucas first shot himself and then Hector and suddenly everything fell silent.

When Lucas came to, he felt a crushing weight almost gluing him to the bed he was now laying in. With a struggle, the young man now turned old and fat sat up to see that his old body was nowhere to be seen. Spotting a note on his bed's side, Lucas begun to read

"Thanks for the body, Lucas! I'll be sure to get it back to you after I have some fun today. Until then, enjoy the pipe I left for you and watch some TV!"

With that, Lucas turned to the mirror to look at himself. He was hideous, his body a mess. He couldn't believe the swap actually worked and his mind was racing, but he kept himself composed as he reminded himself that Hector would swap them back tonight. So, he did as Hector suggested and decided to try that pipe.

As the day slowly came to an end, Lucas was beginning to get anxious. Looking at his huge, slob like body- he longed to be his old self again. After several hours of waiting, Lucas realized how boring and difficult Hector's life was. He needed help to even get up and go to the bathroom, and he was constantly out if breath.

Suddenly the door opened and a familiar sight walked into the room. There was a confident smirk on Lucas' face, now belonging to Hector. He walked up to the bedside table and placed a hand on Lucas's fat belly

"Damn. I really let myself go in these years haven't I? I won't miss this old body."

Lucas seemed distressed as he frantically looked up at his old body

What do you mean- I- I thought we were swapping back!"

Hector let out a booming laugh as he grabbed the letter from Lucas's hands and crumbled it up

"No way I'm going back in that disgusting body. Enjoy being a fat fart for the rest of your life Lucas, not like you have much time left hahah!"

Hector than flashed his new abs at the crying old man Lucas was now permanently stuck as before leaving Lucas behind to helplessly struggle in his bed. Soon moving away from the neighborhood never to be seen again.

As Hector enjoyed his new life, Lucas was left helpless as he didn't even have the support of another person to help him out. After a few months passed from the swap, Lucas was admitted to a mental hospital for saying stuff like his body was stolen. That was where he spent the rest of his days, as he passed away due to his morbid obesity three years after the swap.

He'd only gotten fatter, hairier and balder as he'd aged, his youth stolen from him by a selfish old man.

#bad ending #identity theft #male body swap #male weight gain #young to old #bodyswap

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jeongintwenty3 · 1 year

Text

so full of love

pairing: lee know x gn!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none? i think

summary: clingy lee know bathing his other half with all the love he can give

author's note: hi! rey here ♡ as of for now, i have 2 accounts! one will be for writing and the other will be a dump account (?) as usual, feedback is very welcome. please excuse any misspellings or misuse of grammar ): enjoy loves 🌻

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minho just got back home from his meeting, exactly an hour ago. what was funny is the fact that you had to open the door for him, since he punched the passcode to your apartment wrong for a consecutive 4 times. excitement or clumsiness, you decided to believe the former; bearing in mind the two of you haven’t met since a week ago. tackling you in a bear hug, he kept you close for a good 5 minutes.

whispering i miss yous and i love yous, he technically had his hands everywhere; making sure you’re really there, it’s really you whom he’s hugging after a dreadful week. you gently scratched his nape to reciprocate the love he’s currently giving while humming since it’s been a while since you feel this content. well, he would’ve clung onto you for an extra 5 minutes if only you didn’t push him off and screamed in his ear telling how he is still in outside clothes and you just showered.

“do you not miss me?” he furrowed his brows and pouted, an act that made you want to smooch the living daylights out of him.

“i do, but you have to shower min. you’re smelly,” which was a lie, you’re perfectly aware of his blue de chanel perfume lingering around the room – he can see right through it.

“fine, I’ll go shower. with one condition, you’re accompanying me,” he smirked, knowing quite well you’ll do it.

you scoffed in reply and headed straight to the bathroom, preparing everything needed for him, there’s no way in hell you’re gonna shower again, water bills are expensive. you opted drying your hair, since it’s still wet from the shower you had.

while he was showering, he managed to tell you all about the meeting and the fact that he got a week off due to his amazing presentation. times like this are times you most cherish, it’s not something as extravagant as having sushi in the most expensive restaurant there is nor something as fun as going to the amusement park. but times like this, are where the two of you can take a break from the real world, not having to hide from anyone; being vulnerable with one another.

hopping out of the shower wearing a robe, he grabbed your hairbrush. confused, you only tilted your head and furrowed your eyebrows in the mirror. he turned you around and grabbed both of your hands, only for him to place it around his neck. then, he brushed your hair while looking at you like you were the most beautiful human to every exist in the world – which was true, but he’s too prideful to admit that. putting down the hairbrush, he stroked your hair a few times while looking at you with those lovestruck eyes. you swear you could see the love swimming through his eyes, cupid must’ve been happy it got it’s job done.

deciding to continue with your hair serum, he chose to not take part in that as he knew how much you love your hair products. considering on whether to disturb you or continue to stare his one and only while doing his routine, he chose the latter.

“quit staring,” after a few minutes of him looking at you from the mirror’s reflection.

“and why would i?” he replied, while giggling, “i haven’t seen you in a week, i believe i get to stare as much as i want at my other half.”

you tried to suppress a smile, trying for a sulking expression. minho saw through you and immediately hugged you from behind, his hands on your waist and his head on your shoulder.

giggling, “come on now babe, don’t try to hide that smile.”

with no choice but to smile, you replied, “what’s up with you today, min? it’s not like you to be like this.”

heart so full of love it was about to explode, he resorted to kissing your cheeks, temple, everywhere his lips could reach. aiming for you lips, you saw through his intentions and turned your heads so your lips would meet. a kiss full of adoration, affection and warmth, if only breathing wasn’t mandatory, you’d never pull away.

“i love you, so much,” minho said, breaking away from the kiss the two of you just shared. feeling overwhelmed, you tried to keep your tears at bay. minho realized this and was quick to act on his feet, asking whether everything is okay.

you can only stare back at him with the same attraction and love he has been giving you for the past year you’ve been together. getting yourself together, you replied, “i’m okay, min. i love you too, much more than you can ever imagine.” feeling the heat creep upon his cheeks, he chose to bring you in a comforting hug, something the two of you missed and needed.

it’s been a while since you felt this fond for someone. minho being clingy? that happens once in a blue moon. but once that happens, you have 0 complains.

#skz fluff #skz imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #lee know #lee know fluff #lee know x reader #lee minho blurbs #skz #skz x reader

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livingdreams97 · 5 months

Text

Eloise Bridgerton - "The Prince" (Part 2)

Eloise Bridgerton x Male reader/oc

Summary: Two people who have never seen each other before, with the same need and desire to be free in different ways. What could come of that when both people meet each other?

Words: 3.275

PREVIOUS /// NEXT

Masterlist

POV Narrator

Dear readers,

The same two words always come to mind for this author the morning after a big party: surprise and delight. And dear reader, the scandalous accounts of last night's evening at Ranger House ( Bridgerton house ) are quite surprising and a real delight.

Emerging from her previous failure with Viscount Anthony Bridgerton, Miss Edwina Sharma seems to have charmed Prince Friedrich of Prussia with her charms.

They have been seen very together at every social event and close sources comment on the success of the diamond of the season with the prince. Perhaps it turns out that the Queen Regent is a very good supervisor and has an eye for pairing.

Maybe this is the queen's redemption, compared to the resounding failure she had last season with Miss Sharma herself; her diamond for the second consecutive year, and the frustrated wedding she was going to have with the Viscount.

Speaking of royalty, we must also mention the presence of Prince Y/n of Hannover and also the queen's nephew in this season. Also remember that Prince Y/n is the future heir to the throne since the queen and the regent king so dictated after his 16th birthday .

Apparently, this handsome green-eyed prince is also looking for a wife and a future queen. The mothers are very attentive to each moment of solitude, to push their daughters into hisarms and try to catch the biggest fish in the place.

But it seems that his attention is fixed on none other than Miss Eloise Bridgerton. It should be noted that this is the second season as a debutante for the second daughter of the Bridgertons and the bad reputation that comes from the people with whom she joined last season.

But that fame does not seem to frighten or matter to the Prince of Hanover, as he has been seen many times on the dancefloor with Miss Bridgerton. They say that love is blind and perhaps in this case it can also become deaf.

How will the queen feel about this possible union?

On the other hand, we have Miss Prudence Featherington who is still engaged to Mr. Jack Featherington and it seems that the nuptials are still some way off. On the other hand, we have Penelope Featherington , who has reportedly been seen in the company of Mr. Colin Bridgerton more than usual. Could this mean something else; or is it just a friendship?

Always yours,

Lady Whistledown.

Eloise's POV

I can't do it anymore. I can't continue with this constant pressure, feeling like every step and every one of my movements is being watched. And not only for my mother, but also for the rest of the people in each event.

It's only been three weeks since the social season began, three weeks that have seemed eternal and one of the heaviest. It seems that three months have passed and not three weeks.

I feel exhausted and totally stressed. I don't want to disappoint my mother again and have our last name put in doubt again because of me. That is what I least want.

But the pressure not to disappoint Mother again, the feeling of being completely watched at all times, and the discomfort I feel every time a newcomer questions me about my "radical" ideals overwhelms me.

The only times I don't feel so overwhelmed and suffocated by everything is when I'm reading in my room and no one bothers or watches me at all.

I can only relax when I am completely alone.

Worst of all, I can't talk about it with anyone, since I would have talked about it with Penelope before and that's it. But after her betrayal, I can't talk to her, much less when she didn't trust her and continues to write as Lady Whistledown .

The fact that she continues writing annoys me even more, especially when she writes about my family and more specifically about me. If anyone had forgotten about her comment last season, about my relationship with Theo and my supposed radical political ideas; with what she wrote about me three days ago, she reminded all of London.

So people looked at me even more and not in a very positive way. But I couldn't talk to anyone about how I felt, because I don't have any friends left and no one in my family would understand.

I can't even tell Benedict how I feel, since he's too focused on his drawing and I don't want to worry him with my problems. In addition to that he would tell me not to pay attention to people and he would tell me something funny to make me laugh.

But that's not what I need right now. What I need now is someone who listens to me, who understands me and can help me with all this that I feel. Because I feel like I'm drowning more every day and how I'm short of breath every time I enter a dance or social event.

And the same thing was happening to me right now.

Tonight was the annual seasonal ball at Vauxhall Gardens, so the whole family except my two younger brothers had come. Even Kate had decided to leave little Olivia at home.

As soon as the family had set foot in the party, all eyes were on us and more specifically on me.

Ignoring with all my might the gazes on me, I comply with what my mother asks of me and dance with two men until the song ends. But neither of the two men are educated people.

Because both of them have spent the dances asking about my ideals and how wrong I am with my radical political thought, since that promotes the extinction of my life as a person of high class.

What ends up getting fed up and in a carelessness of my family I flee towards the labyrinth of the gardens. Where I sit on one of the stone benches of the place and I start to cry without being able to avoid it.

XY: I don't think it's safe or correct that you're out here without supervision.- I hear near me, causing me to jump scared and turn around to find the Prince of Hannover.

Eloise: I could say the same to you.- I reproach with a frown, forcefully wiping away my tears and trying to stop crying.

Y/n: Are you alright Eloise? - he asks with some concern on his face, walking towards where I am and sitting a bit far away; but in the same bank.

Eloise: Of course I'm fine.- I answer clenching my jaw and holding back the urge to continue crying.

Y/n: I'll believe you and we can go back to the dance as if nothing had happened.- he says with some sarcasm, bringing a glass to his lips and giving a small sip.

Another thing that has changed is my relationship with Prince Y/n. At first it seemed unbearable and somewhat unbelievable. But over time I have been able to learn more about him and have long intellectual conversations about our interests.

So I've started to see him a bit as a friend, since he knows what is said about me and completely ignores it. He has never come to ask me about my radical political ideas, even though I don't have them as such and that is something that everyone has asked me about.

So you can say that I like him a little, although not enough to tell him my stuff and be considered my friend completely.

Eloise: I'm just tired and overwhelmed by everything.- I admit with a sigh and see how he offers me his drink.

Y/n: What has you overwhelmed?- he asks as I accept the glass and take a small sip, feeling a burning pain in my throat.

Eloise: Iugh Yuck.- I say with a gag, giving him back the drink and causing him to laugh at my reaction.

Y/n: Don't change the subject and answer me.- he tells me funny.

Eloise: I feel overwhelmed for not finding a husband and disappointing my mother for a second time.- I answer playing with my hands and lowering my gaze.

Y/n: And why do you think you won't find a husband?- he asks with some confusion in his voice. -From my point of view, you are perfect for any man. You are beautiful, you have your own thoughts and ideals that you defend with very good arguments, you are educated, you like to read and you do not give importance to what the rest of the world says. - he enumerates and I look at him completely surprised, feeling a certain heat on my cheeks and ears.

Eloise: You say that out of politeness.- I played down what he just said, feeling embarrassed and somewhat impressed by his opinion about me.

Y/n: I say what I've seen and what I've experienced with you.- he assures me with a small smile, so I look away from him. -There are very few women like you Eloise Bridgerton and you should be proud of who you are. Because you are worth much more than any of the other debutants with knowledge of pianoforte or whatever they know how to do, because you go further and you don't focus only on learning something to please your future husband.- he expresses and i presses my lips , so that he does not see the smile that wants to appear on my face about what he has told me.

Eloise: That's the problem, I don't want a husband to please and become a boring housewife.- I say with a sigh. -I don't want to have to pretend to be someone I'm not in order for a man to like me, I don't want to make myself less so I can get married and I don't want my life to be left in the hands of a husband who is only interested in himself.- I complain and I can see how he listens to me attentively.

Y/n: So you don't want to get married? - he asks with confusion and with some interest shining in his eyes.

Eloise: No.- I deny with a sigh. -It's not something I want, but my mother wants me to get married and I don't want to stay like a spinster either; because it is not that they are very well seen in our society. - I explain and I see how he nods with his head processing what I just said.

He stares at me in silence for a few moments, saying absolutely nothing and with a certain pensive look on his face.

Y/n: Can I make you a proposition?- he asks me with some caution.

Eloise: What kind of proposition? - I ask a little interested, but also with some caution for the possibilities.

Y/n: You don't want to get married, right? - he asks and I shake my head. -But neither do you want to stay single and "disappoint" your mother by not getting married.- he says and I nod without understanding where he wants to go. -I propose that you marry me.- he says confidently and I open my eyes wide.

Eloise: WHAT?!! - I exclaim completely in shock.

Y/n: Don't yell or someone will see us.- he whispers looking at all sides.

Eloise: Have you gone crazy?- I ask quickly in a whisper. -I just told you that I don't want to get married and you ask me to marry.- I commented as if it were the craziest idea in the world.

Y/n: Be quiet and listen to me for a moment please.- he asks me with a certain plea in his eyes.

Eloise: Okay.- I accept with a sigh, trying to relax my breathing and the accelerated beating of my heart.

Y/n: I don't want to get married either, but my father forces me to find someone and marry her for love.- he begins to tell me. -I just want to travel the world and enjoy life, but I can't do it until I get married; since I made a deal with my father. The deal is based on the fact that if I marry for love, he will pay me six months to travel the world and buy me a house wherever I want for myself and my wife.- he explains and I still don't understand his proposition.

Eloise: And what do I paint here and in your proposal for me to marry you? - I ask still a bit confused.

Y/n: That's what I'm getting to.- he complains with a sigh. -I don't want to get married and you don't want to get married, but for different reasons we don't want to be single either. So it's the best thing that could happen to us. - he exclaims and I look at him still confused.

Eloise: I still don't quite understand the reason for your proposition.- I point out how poorly it is being explained.

Y/n: You marry me and your mother is glad that you marry a prince and future heir to the crown; besides that you don't stay single.- he points to me first . -And I marry you, finally being able to travel the world and having the freedom to live away from my father. We both won.- he exclaims with some joy.

Eloise: But I would still have to marry you and I'm not going to make myself less or become a housewife for you.- I deny immediately.

Y/n: And you won't.- He denies, reassure me immediately. -You will have all the freedom in the world, you will be able to read everything you want and dedicate your time to yourself without having to worry about your future anymore.- he assures me and I observe him considering the proposal.

Eloise: Could I choose where to have the house? - I ask with a raised eyebrow.

Y/n: As long as it's not near my father; yes.- he nods with a smile.

Eloise: I want to review your proposal, okay? - I ask and he nods. -You want us to get married together; because neither of us really wants to get married, but I don't want to disappoint my mother and I don't want to stay single either. At the same time as you , you have made a deal with your father and if you get married he will finally let you travel the world and buy you a house.- I am saying everything he has told me, causing him to nod again. -And I will be able to continue enjoying my books and not being the most feminine woman in the world, without you caring and I will have all the freedom in the world; besides that I will choose where we would live? - I finish reviewing the proposition.

Y/n: Exactly.- He nods with a smile.

Eloise: What's the catch? - I ask raising an eyebrow, knowing that everything sounds very perfect and there must be a catch.

Y/n: It has to seem like we really love each other and my aunt has to accept our marriage.- he responds a bit insecure and I open my mouth in surprise.

Eloise: No.- I deny getting up from the bench. -Your aunt; Your aunt THE Queen hates me.- I point out and he follows my example getting up from the bench.

Y/n: My aunt will adore you if she thinks you're the love of my life and thinks I'm in love with you.- he assures me and I shake my head.

Eloise: Nobody will believe it. - I deny nervous and somewhat disappointed.

The proposal was perfect, but it was too perfect to be true and now it's clearly impossible.

Y/n: Eloise, please listen to me.- He begs me, grabbing my hands and making me look at him. -You are my only hope, the other debutants want to marry me to show off and for the possible power that marriage would entail. And to be honest, I couldn't pretend to love them one bit, no matter how good an actor I may be.- he explains sincerely and I can't help but laugh at the last thing .

Eloise: And with me if you can pretend perhaps? - I ask strangely nervous about his closeness and curious about his answer.

Y/n: Yes, because you have something in your head and you have thoughts of your own.- he answers without thinking for two seconds. -It would be easier for me to fake a relationship with someone intelligent like you, than with someone who doesn't even know what an intellectual and casual conversation is; without it being planned.- he comments and I can't help nodding at the reality of the situation.

Eloise: And what happens if we don't fool anyone? - I ask with an exhausted sigh.

Y/n: Lady Whistledown already believes that there is something between us and as my aunt says, if that lady writes about it, the rest of the town comments on it and also thinks about it.- he answers calmly. -We just have to start being seen more together, take walks in the park together and dance only with each other.- he explains part of his plan.

Eloise: And how will we convince my mother, Lady Danbury and your aunt the Queen?- I ask and I see how he remains thoughtful.

Y/n: I could go to your house for tea from now on, show an intense interest on my part towards you and a notorious approach so that they do not suspect.- he plans and I can recreate the plan in my mind.

I can see how the situation can turn out favorable for us and how we can both win if everything works as he has said. But it can also go wrong and someone discover us.

Eloise: Can I think about the proposal for a few days? - I ask a little nervous and insecure.

Y/n: You can think about it for as long as you want. - He nods with a small smile. -But I'm afraid that to ensure a positive ending in case you accept, we have to start acting now and even if in the end you reject the offer, we'll just distance ourselves a bit and that's it.- he raises and I nod, understanding his point of view .

Eloise: Okay.- I nod and he leaves a light squeeze on my hands and then releases them. -I'll think about it these days and I 'll give you an answer as soon as possible.- I assure him and he takes a couple of steps back, picking up his glass from the bench.

Y/n: Great, now let's go back to the dance and hopefully no one has noticed our absence.- he tells me and we both head towards the dance.

Before reaching the end of the maze, he asks me to go first and that he will appear a few minutes later; so as not to arouse suspicion. And that's what happens.

Ten minutes after I have found my brothers, excusing myself for having been in the bathroom and for the long queue, there he was. Prince Y/n approaches us and asks me to dance with him, which I immediately accept with a smile and beginning the most important performance of my life.

From this moment on, in the following days we will have to be the best actors in the world and make all the people believe that there is something between the prince and me.

I just hope that everything goes well and that in the solitude of my room, I can think calmly and weigh all the pros and cons of the proposition Y/n has made me.

I only hope to be able to choose well and not regret it in the future; either close or far from the decision that I have to make in a few days. Because that decision will dictate my life and future from the moment I make my final decision.

#eloise bridgerton #bridgerton #eloise bridgerton x reader #bridgerton netflix #eloise bridgerton x male reader #anthony bridgerton #lady whistledown #queen charlotte #benedict bridgerton #violet bridgerton #edwina sharma #kate sharma #oc character #male reader

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the-bad-batch-baroness · 2 months

Text

Where's Mommy?

Wolffe x OFC

Part 8

Summary: Wolffe's wife suddenly dies, leaving him a single father in the middle of a war.

Pairing: Wolffe x OFC

Characters: Comet, Cara (child OFC)

Tags & Warnings: heavy angst, mention of death, off-screen death, spousal death, grief, hurt/comfort, family fluff

Word Count: 2.2k

Author's Note: After two consecutive heavy chapters of Wolffe angst, I figured it was time for something a bit lighter. So, you get more Comet and Cara! Honestly, I love their dynamic so much. It's cute and adorable, and it's my favorite. Cara doesn't view Comet as an uncle, but more like a big brother and that's how Comet feels too. Be forewarned, there are still sad undertones. I also really wanted to cut this chapter in half, but there was no good way to do it. As always, please enjoy 💚

Part 1 || Prev | Next

Before Comet made his way to Cara's room, he stopped by the kitchen to do what Wolffe asked him. It really was a mess, but at least they were able to make Wolffe think about something else for a couple of minutes. Comet couldn't even begin to imagine how difficult it was for Wolffe to go through this, but on the flip-side, it was incredibly difficult for any of them to watch, especially when they knew there was nothing they could do to alleviate Wolffe's or Cara's pain. It was such a tragedy.

While still in the kitchen, Comet caught a glimpse of a flower-patterned apron hanging on a bronze hook. He approached the garment and rubbed the fabric between his fingers with fondness, remembering when he first became part of the Wolfpack. He was just a shiny, hot off Kamino, and assigned to the most rugged of commanders serving alongside two veteran clones, and yet, they took him in like family. She took him in like family, too, and made him his first real meal.

Comet smiled at the memory. The Pack missed her too, even if they didn't say it out loud. With Wolffe still raw from her passing, it wasn't the time nor the place for them to air their own sorrows, but they still felt it. The hole she left behind and the vacuum it created in all of their lives. She was kind, gentle, loving, and could go toe-to-toe with Wolffe like no one he'd ever seen. He chuckled at a memory of Wolffe retreating with his tail between his legs after being scolded by her.

Realizing that he forgot about his other mission, Comet left the apron where it hung and made his way back to Cara's room. He'd have to remember to grab it before they left. Wolffe would want to take it with him. At least, he thought Wolffe would want to take it. If not, then he might grab it out of pure fondness. They were all aware that once they vacated the apartment, everything in it would be trashed, and the thought of that apron laying in a pile of trash somewhere made his skin prickle.

On his way to Cara's room, Comet grabbed the largest box he could find. Wolffe said one box, but he didn't say it had to be a certain size. He knew it was going to be an uphill battle to get Cara to pick and choose what she kept and left behind, so a bigger box would make it easier. She was four, and she'd grow out of most of her things in a couple of cycles, which meant he needed to guide the choosing. It might be difficult now, but she'd thank him one day when she was older. If he was even alive to see her get older.

As he approached her room, he didn't hear any noise, which made him suspicious of what she could be doing in there. Maybe all of that crying and screaming wore her out and she fell asleep. If that was the case, then this just became a lot more difficult. If there was one thing Comet had learned from spending time with children, it was to never wake them from a nap. Kids were mean when they were tired and they would make everyone around them feel every ounce of their displeasure at being woken up.

Reluctantly, Comet opened the door, and not-surprisingly the lights were still on. A quick inspection of the room showed no signs of life within the four corners, but there was a suspicious looking child-sized lump under a blanket in the middle of the bed. Comet sighed. Just what he was afraid of. When he stepped closer, the lump moved. He crossed his arms and tilted his head to the side, watching as the lump squirmed around. She wasn't asleep, she was hiding. Comet smirked and decided to play along.

"Oh, no," he said dramatically. "Whatever will I do? I seem to have lost Cara."

The lump giggled and Comet smiled.

"Wolffe is going to kill me," he continued while slowly creeping towards the bed.

The lump giggled louder and Comet snuck up real close, ready to pounce.

"I'll be decommissioned for sure," he joked, then grabbed the lump and hoisted it up into the air.

Cara squealed.

"Found you!" he exclaimed.

"No!" Cara squirmed in Comet's grasp. "Put me down!"

Comet plopped down onto Cara's bed, placed her on his lap, and uncovered her from the blanket. "Are you hiding from me, ad'ika?" he asked.

She wiggled her little body and tried to escape from him, but his grip was firm. "No," she pouted and stuck her tongue out at him.

Comet raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"I don't want to," she whined.

"Ad'ika," he sighed. "I don't want to either, but sometimes we have to do things we don't want to do."

"What's an add-ee-ka?" she asked.

Comet knew she was stalling, but it was an easy enough question to answer. "It means child, but in a more loving way." He wanted to use the word affectionate, but she might not understand that one yet.

"Why doesn't daddy call me that?" she asked.

Comet thought about it for a moment, because he too wondered why Wolffe didn't use Mando'a around Cara, and shrugged. "I don't really know why."

"Does daddy not love me?" she asked.

Comet's brain stalled. The mental leaps and bounds she just made caught him completely off guard. How could she think, even for a second, that Wolffe didn't love her? It baffled him. Wolffe talked about her all of the time, to anyone who would listen, and even to those who wouldn't. There was nothing Wolffe wouldn't do for his daughter, well, except leave the GAR. He knew Wolffe would if he could, in a heartbeat, but they'd track him down and decommission him without a second thought.

Comet shifted Cara on his lap so that she was facing him and gently brushed some of the curls out of her face. "Your dad loves you very much," he said. "So much so that he can't express all of it, even if he tries. He misses you all of the time when he's out on missions and it makes him very sad to be away from you."

"Oh," she said. "Does daddy love mommy?"

"Very much," he answered. "Almost as much as he loves you."

"Then why isn't daddy sad about mommy?" she asked.

"What makes you think he's not sad?" he asked in return.

"Daddy doesn't cry," she said. "I cry when I'm sad."

Comet's eyes softened and he wrapped his arms around her. "He does. Trust me, he does. But daddies are different from ad'ike. Daddies don't cry like you do when you're sad. They cry by themselves."

"Why?" she asked.

"Because," he began, then paused as he tried to figure out how to explain it. "He wants to be strong so he can take care of you."

"Oh," she said. Comet could tell she was still confused.

"You see," he explained further. "Love isn't stored in our words or even our actions. It's stored here." He placed a hand on his heart. "Inside our hearts, our ka'rta."

"Ka-ro-ta," she pronounced. "Sounds like carrot."

Comet snorted, then started laughing. "Yeah, I guess it does."

"So, daddy loves mommy in here?" she asked while pointing at her heart.

"Yes, exactly," he said, then tapped her nose. "And he loves you in there, too."

"I love daddy in here, too," she said. "And mommy."

"Good," he smiled. "You keep them in there forever, okay?"

Cara smiles. "I will."

Comet really didn't want to change the subject or ruin the mood, but time was running short and he still had a job to do. "You know," he began. "If we don't pack up this box, you won't be able to bring anything with you."

Cara's eyes widened and she scrambled off of Comet's lap to start filling the box. She might have been stalling, but he was glad she asked those questions. The last thing Wolffe needed was for his daughter to think he didn't love her. He would crumble into a pile of dust if he ever found that out. Wolffe might not be able to spend a lot of time with Cara because of the War, but he really did love her, and Comet hoped Wolffe would continue to show her that love every chance he got.

The packing process went pretty much as Comet expected. Cara grabbed a whole bunch of things and tossed them into the box without really thinking about it. While she rummaged through her shelves and closets, Comet stealthily removed certain things from the box. If she realized they were gone, then maybe she did want them, but if she didn't see them missing from the box, then she probably wouldn't miss them at all. It was a gamble, but one he was willing to take for her sake.

Comet made sure to grab a few of the things he knew she'd actually want and need, like Cloney, ducky, her favorite pajamas, other important pieces of clothing, a few bedtime stories, and the drawings she made of her family. The drawings were easy because they were flat and could lay flush against the side of the box, so he was able to fit them all in. He knew she was going to need them once they were deployed again and she was alone. Some of the toys were a bit harder to fit, since they were bulky or oddly shaped, but he managed.

When the box was nearly full, Cara grabbed the blanket off her bed and tried to stuff it in the box, but it was just too big and it spilled out all over the top and sides. She had that blanket since birth, so Comet knew there was no parting with it and he needed to find a way to fit it in somehow. He rearranged some of the items in the box, rolled the clothing instead of folding it, and adjusted the more angular things, but it still wouldn't fit. Cara was on the verge of tears and Comet needed a new plan.

"Ad'ika," Comet said. "Would it be okay if I made your blanket into something else?"

Cara looked at him with watery eyes, and nodded silently.

Comet smiled and scruffed her hair. "Don't worry. I'll fix this."

Besides learning how to cook delicious food, Comet picked up something else from Wolffe's wife: how to sew. It was an odd skill for a clone to have, sure, but she loved to do it and he was always mesmerized by what she could make with some scraps of fabric and a little imagination. He was definitely not a master seamstress like her, but he knew his way around a needle and thread enough to be dangerous. He left Cara's room and grabbed what he needed from the sewing closet: scissors, chalk, a needle, blue and black thread, two gray buttons, and some stuffing.

Comet returned to Cara's room and laid out the blanket flat on the floor. He marked out the pattern with some chalk, and with Cara standing back, he cut out the pattern. Placing that piece on more of the blanket, he cut out the second piece in the same shape. With the cutting done, he placed the scissors out of Cara's reach and sat on the floor to start sewing the pieces together. Cara leaned over his shoulder to watch, just like she did with her mom, and Comet smiled at her curiosity.

He took his time with the stitching, because it would be of no use to her if it fell apart while he was gone and wasn't there to fix it. When he was done stitching most of the outer edge, he sewed on the two button eyes, which proved to be difficult when Cara wrapped her arms around his neck, practically strangling him. He readjusted her so he could breathe, then finished sewing the buttons on. Lastly, he filled the opening with lots of stuffing, then closed the final stitches to finish the doll.

"Ta-da," he said, then handed the finished doll to her. "One tooka doll."

Cara's eyes lit up and she squeezed it against her chest. "I love it!"

Comet smiled. "It should fit in the box now."

Cara placed the doll in the box and smiled at Comet. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome," Comet said. "Ready to go find your dad?"

Cara nodded her head and ran out of the room.

Comet shook his head and got up off the floor. He picked the box up and grunted. It was a little heavier than he was expecting, but he did a good job of fitting everything in there. Cara would never be able to carry it, but he could. He'd carry anything for her. He'd carry her sadness if he could. He knew Wolffe would, too. Actually, there wasn't a member of the Wolfpack who wouldn't do anything for Cara. She was family, a part of the Pack, and now also motherless, just like them.

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guess-my-next-obsession · 1 year

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8 Days of Christmas — Christmas Always Makes Me Cry

pairing: javier peña x f!reader

rating: E (18+ ONLY, angst, javi being homesick, talks of crime, violence, other shit that comes w/ being a dea agent, alcohol consumption, strangers in a bar trope, blowjob, filthy!javi, cunnilingus, ass eating, dirty talk, soft!ending)

word count: 2.5k

8 Days of Christmas Masterlist

It was Christmastime in Bogota, Javi finding himself far away from the comfort and familiarity of Laredo for the third consecutive year—though at this point, Bogota had become more familiar to him than his hometown.

It was summer in Colombia, the heat making him feel all the more distant from the holiday as he washed off the sweat and grime built up from a hard day chasing down sicarios they never could seem to catch. In a way, he felt appreciative for the sweltering air outside—it gave him the opportunity to pretend as though Christmas didn’t exist, and therefore he didn’t have to feel guilty about missing yet another holiday with his father.

But he did miss him. No matter how hard he tried to push the longing out of his head, he missed his dad.

Every year, Chucho and Javi would be sent off by his tias and tios to collect at least five different Christmas trees, the two men helped by a couple generous cousins. They’d drive over to the town’s farm and pack the trees in the back of their trucks before delivering them to each of the Peña households, their payment typically being tamales and, if they got lucky and picked a particularly good tree out, a cerveza.

His family celebrated Christmas on Christmas Eve, as most other Mexicanos did in this part of the country at least. Javi never really did know the reason why—it’s just what they did.

Chucho and Javi rarely spent a Christmas at their own home, the two-story ranch house full of too many memories of Christmases past when his mother was still around to make the holiday feel right. Since her passing, it just felt easier to leave and head over to one of Chucho’s sister’s houses, the crowded, loud, and busy nature of the home providing the perfect distraction for their grief.

But now Javi was left to do his grieving alone, this job of his becoming less of a career and more like a lifestyle with each passing day.

Though he truly didn’t regret going into this line of work—helping people had always been his strong suit—it would be a lie to say that there were days, weeks, months even that he found himself buried beneath the violence and death he witnessed while trying to put these bad guys away. The old Javi, the one that his father and tias knew, was hard to find through the layers of thick skin and numbness he needed to build up in order to survive.

Even if he made it back home for the holidays, he wasn’t sure his family would even recognize him anymore, which hurt him in a way he wouldn’t dare to acknowledge. Not right now, at least.

Needing to blow off some steam, Javi chose to head out to one of the bars catered to tourists and Americans who couldn’t speak a lick of Spanish, hoping to find someone so far removed from everything here in Colombia that suffocated him to take home for the night. While he thoroughly enjoyed his usual exploits here—DEA secretaries and informants, typically—they were all too close to everything he was trying to forget.

“Whiskey,” he ordered once he walked up to the bar, his head turning to the side to scan the room for anything that caught his eye, coming up short in this unusually packed room full of mostly elderly people escaping the northern cold.

When the glass of amber liquor was set in front of him, he paid and tipped the bartender before picking his glass up, taking a full-mouthed swig in hopes of numbing the constant stream of anxious thoughts running through his mind.

One drink turned to four as the hours passed by, the nagging voice inside finally hushed as he continued to watch everyone else have a good time, but no amount of liquor could cure the loneliness he felt deep inside. In fact, he was pretty sure nothing in the world could cure it. He was bound to feel this way forever.

“I’m serious! We went out for a drive and I swear to god I saw a car shot up with bullet holes,” one of the clearly well-off grandmothers beside him recounted to her group, earning a scoff of disbelief from the man beside her.

Javier had never wanted ear plugs more in his life as he sat listening to these out of touch and over-privileged Americans detail how much fun they were having here “exploring the culture”. If only they had any fucking clue that real people lived in this country and had to deal with this shit on a daily basis, maybe that would have removed the smile on their faces, but he doubted it.

“That gonna be it, sir?” the bartender asked, bringing Javi’s eyes forward. Javi held his finger up to gesture for one more drink, hoping that by some act of fate, the woman he’d been hoping for would walk in and help take some of this weight off his shoulders.

With the door opening, Javi turned to look over at the new patron and found his lips parting in surprise. Perhaps the universe was listening after all.

He watched as you walked in, your face scrunching up at the amount of people packed into the bar, a sigh leaving your lips as you weaved your way to the empty spot beside him at the bar. Between your natural beauty and the clear scowl on your face, Javi felt sure that he’d stumbled upon the only other Scrooge in Bogota.

Finding his courage, he managed to clear his throat and gesture to his glass.

“Can I get you one?” he asked, watching you as your eyes flickered to his as though you weren’t sure that he was talking to you.

“Me?” you questioned with a quirked brow, earning a chuckle and a nod. The bartender turned his eyes from Javi to you, awaiting yo ur order. “Uh, yeah. Gin and tonic.”

“I, uh, I’ve never seen this place so packed before,” Javi spoke, the liquor in his system forcing his voice into a huskier tone than usual.

“Yeah, it’s usually dead,” you replied, taking a look around the room before sneaking a glance at him, impressed by his handsome profile as he took a sip of his whiskey. “Must be the tourists escaping the cold.”

“That what you are?” he asked, setting his glass down and looking back to you. You felt your cheeks heat as his eyes bounced across your features with an intense admiration.

“Uh, no, I teach english lit at the University of Bogota,” you informed with a small smile. Javi nodded as though he was proud of you, widening his smile just a bit.

“Impressive.”

“What about you? You here for the season or do you live here?” You noticed the way he tensed a bit at the question and hoped you hadn’t crossed a boundary. Picking up your drink, you decided to take a few needed sips to loosen you up a bit, your nerves clearly still in control.

“I, uh, live here. For now, at least.”

“Oh yeah? Where to next?” you pressed, watching as he weighed his head to the side and shrugged.

“Hopefully back home,” he replied, cracking a somehow sad smile that brought a frown to your face.

“Why hopefully?”

Because I don’t know if I’m gonna make it out of here alive, he wanted to reply.

“It’s…a long story that i’m not allowed to tell you even if i wanted to.” He flashed you a winning smile before holding his hand out. “I just realized I haven’t caught your name.”

You smiled as you slipped your hand into his and told him your name, pleased by the warmth of his palm and how his fingers encompassed your entire hand.

“Javi,” he gave you his name and you whispered it back to him, watching as he nodded in confirmation. “Sounds better when you say it.”

You blushed and rolled your eyes playfully y his compliment. “Well, Javi, what brings you to a bar on Christmas eve? Sú mujer le molesta?” [Your wife bothering you?]

He chuckled. “¿Ves un anillo en mi dedo?” [Do you see a ring on my finger?]

“Figured you took it off,” you shrugged, the liquor in your system turning you playful.

“No, no wife at home nagging at me,” he finally answered your question, bringing his glass to his lips. “What about you? Escaping somebody?”

“Escaping everybody,” you replied with a groan. “Tonight was our work party, and I walked in, took a look around, and walked right back out. Figured getting drunk in a room full of strangers was better than a room full of coworkers.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, eyes flickering to your lips. “Sometimes it’s easier to be with a stranger. You can be whoever you wanna be.”

“And who would you like me to be for you, Javi?” you purred, reaching your hand over to trail a finger up his forearm. Javi’s breath hitched but he quickly recovered, placing his hand on top of yours and intertwining your fingers.

“Just yourself,” he replied, hardly audible over the loud chatter and ambience of the bar.

“Ah, fuck,” Javi had one hand on the back of your head, the other gripping the sink behind him as you took him deep in your mouth. Sinful slurps and glucks filled the single stall restroom at the bar, your eyes wide with tears falling down your cheeks as you bobbed up and down on his cock like you were determined to win a trophy. “So fucking pretty like this, cariño. Gonna make me cum quick.”

You lived for his praise, his husky rasp like music to your ears as you reached to cradle his balls, determined to get him across the finish line in record time. Javi’s neck strained as he tossed his head back, gulping down the strangled moans both of you wished he could let spill freely.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he warned looking down at you with a crease between his brows, s look of awe on his handsome face as he watched you stroke him in time with your slurps and sucks. “Fuck, fuck, fuuu-uck!”

Javi’s coco pulsed as you took him deep into your throat, his lips forming an ‘o’ as he watched you swallow his entire load with ease.

“Jesus fucking Christ, come here,” Javi pulled you onto your feet and kissed you without care of the saliva and cum that remained on the corners of your mouth, his neediness driving you wild. You tossed your arms around his neck and kissed him back with just as much fervor, Javi’s hands reaching for the hem of your dress and lifting it up over your ass. “Bend over. Wanna eat your pussy.”

“Fuck,” you whined and did as he requested, bending over the sink while he positioned himself on his knees behind you. You looked into the mirror, staring at your fucked out state as Javi tugged your panties down your thighs and spread your cheeks to get a good look at your glistening heat.

“So fucking pretty,” he praised before leaning in and licking a broad stripe from your clit to your puckered hole, pulling a gasp from your lips. “And you taste fucking good.”

“Shit, Javi,” you breathed out and reached your hand back to hold his head against you. Javi growled and began his work, lapping at your clit until it swelled before running his tongue all the way up to your ass and back down again. Your thighs shook as you kept yourself upright, your eyes unable to watch yourself anymore as you could hardly keep them open, his tongue pressing into your cunt wiping all coherent thought away. “So good…so fucking good, Javi.”

Javi wrapped his lips around your throbbing clit and started to suck, obscene sounds filling the room again as he spit on your cunt just to slurp it all back into his mouth and do it again.

“Your pussy tastes so good, I could eat you for hours, cariño,” he praised before pressing his tongue to your tighter hole while he circled your clit with two fingers, threatening to push you over the edge. “You gonna cum, baby? Tell me so I can lick it all up. Wanna taste everything you have to give me.”

“Fuck, Javi!” you whined, guiding his head lower to your cunt again as your high began to dawn, Javi’s lips replacing his fingers as he started to suck on your clit again, the pulsing sensation finally pushing you over the edge. “Javi, I’m coming! Fuck!”

“Yes,” he growled against you, sliding his tongue to your entrance to drink you down while you convulsed against the sink counter.

Once your walls ceased their fluttering, Javi stood up, tucking his cock back into his jeans before sliding your panties back up and pulling the hem of your dress down. He helped steady you as you turned around, your hands on his face tugging him down for a searing kiss.

“You wanna come back to mine for the night?” he asked breathily against your jaw, palming your ass as he held you close.

You bit your lip and shook your head, feeling him frown against you. “Sober me wouldn’t be proud of me for going home with a stranger on the first night. No matter how handsome or talented he is.”

“Understandable,” he chuckled against you, his lips now on your neck leaving tiny kisses all over. “I’d like to you see you again, though. Got any Christmas plans?”

“Si, con mi gato,” you replied with a playful grin. “You could come and join us, if you want. I bought a ham and some sides for dinner. Wouldn’t mind sharing it with a handsome stranger.”

“Maybe then you wouldn’t see me as a stranger anymore,” he suggested, pulling back to look down at you. “I’d like that. Might have to take an allergy pill but, for you, it’s worth it.”

“I’ll tell my cat to leave you alone,” you chuckled, stroking over his mustache. “I’m glad I came out tonight. You really made my holiday better, Javi.”

“I can’t tell you just how much I agree,” he smiled and kissed you again. “C’mon, stranger. There’s probably a line of old people outside waiting to scold us for taking so long.”

“Gotta fix this first,” you gestured at your face, your mascara running and lipstick smudged over your chin. Javi shrugged as he took a good look at your fucked out state.

“I think it’s a good look.”

taglist: @infesstisssumam @outlawedmando @suttonspuds @joelmillerscoffee @ajeff855 @wildemaven @axshadows @sherala007 @browneyes-issac @tooflef @mariasabana @tae27 @kimm4710 @stxrrylunatic @sara-alonso @paulalikestuff @jbh-castaway @oceandolores @mandomover @chxpsi @auberosier @mashomasho @vanemando15 @wickedmunson @marvel-sw-lover @jediknight122 @harriedandharassed @star-wars-fan-2005 @alwaysdjarin @jalobro @trickstersp8 @mccn-bcys @manuymesut @trinkets01 @tanzthompson @jlmaddinson @golden-library @ayoungpascallover-readings @ziggyrocket @pasckles @mrsparknuts @dodgerandevans @medusaandposeidonshead @pastelnap @mando-amando @notyourlovemonkey @psychesreads @oncasette @laureliciousdefinition @notyourlovemonkey @peachyaeger

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fluff #narcos fanfiction #javier peña angst #javier pena fic #javier peña x you #javier peña fluff #javier pena #javier peña x y/n #javier peña x reader #javier peña smut #javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #8 days of christmas

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wannab-urs · 1 year

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The Spreadsheet Digest - Fic Recs | Vol 7

Howdy, folks! It's time for this week's recap of what I read :)

As always, you can find the spreadsheet here, and you're always more than welcome to tag me in your fic if you'd like to be included. New and old fics both appreciated; anything from a drabble to a 400k word series is fine; and the only Pedro boy I don't really read is Pero Tovar.

Without further ado here are the fics I read this week and the unhinged ramblings of a madwoman (me) to substitute for a coherent recommendation.

One for the money, two for the show a Joel series by @cowgurrrl

Rockstar!Joel AU with such a sweet fake dating trope lead in and then the most delicious yummy angst. As your resident angst whore this was everything because it was so REAL and so fucking heartbreaking. And then the happy little hopeful ending and then all the drabbles and extras??? AH! My favorite part was the lil instagram stories i think <3

sharing is caring a Frankie/Santi one shot by @walkintotheriveranddisappear

Your friend Santi introduces you to his friend Frankie and uhhhh you guys go make a sandwich.

Only Lovers Left Alive a Joel series by @atinylittlepain

I love every single thing about this. Revenge. Vampires. Blood play kind of? Biting. Etc. This shit rocks.

Waiting Room a Joel one shot by @beskarandblasters

I fucking love what kel did with this song. The repetition of one for the road really fuckin got me too. Angst angst angst.

The Special One a Joel series by @toxicanonymity

What if a reluctant soulmates AU was also a vampire!Joel AU? It would be perfect, that's what. I'm loving vampire!joel rn anyway, but this was such a cool twist on it. Also his vibes in this are fucking immaculate

Copycat Killer a Joel series by @beskarandblasters

Bitch this is so good. Stalker!Reader x Rockstar Joel... fucking perfect. I love how they both kind of suck as human beings a little bit. And that blow job oh my GOD.

Sweet Creature a Dieter series by @wildemaven

I really really love how this story is going. The little town is so real to me and I love all the little places we get to see. The bookstore sounds like a DREAM. And I can't wait for Reader to bond with D over art ahhhhh.

Stitches a Din series by @djarinsbeskar

This fic is so fucking good dude. I love the set up for the whole thing and the reader character is really fuckin' cool. The like... 8 consecutive parts of incredible smut that continues to be genuinely interesting and really fucking hot even after like 200K words is extremely impressive. I'm also pretty sucked into the story and the way Medic is being interwoven into canon. Oh and the introspection we get from Din's POV is *chef's kiss*.... anyway pls god finish this story i need it

False God a Frankie series by @swiftispunk

Frankie asking for what he wants is so... yummy... especially when it's wanting to be your subby lil pussy eating king like... PLEASE. And his praise kink??? I am in Frankie heaven

102 a Frankie one shot by @tieronecrush

I fucking love this ahhhh. I felt so bad for Frankie but also their friendship is so cute??? I love the unrequited love//idiots to lovers trope

Safe in my Arms an Ezra one shot by @mishasminion360

Ezra struggling to adjust to having one less limb and me crying about it. This was so fucking good. The raw emotion he feels and reader's unwavering support... the realism in saying something that accidentally hurts his feelings and trying to take over tasks he might find difficult AGH. I love this so much

Leave Off Your Wandering a Joel series by @oonajaeadira

Adira, I fall in love with every single little world you create without fail. This is obviously no exception. Your sheep ranch is a dream. The way you build up this backstory with the Roostlings and the friendship with Tommy and Maria and just all these extra little details you take the time to flesh out and weave into the story... makes my heart sing, friend. I adore this <3

-------- fics i read a while ago and never recommended -------

Name a Javi P one shot by @joelscruff

Consent a Dieter series by @fuckyeahdindjarin

Whiskey, Dark and Deep a Jack one shot by @prolix-yuy

Stay on the Screenplay a Dieter series by jazzelsaur (ao3)

A Safe Haven a Joel series by @joelsgreys

Psychomanteum a Dieter series by @whatsnewalycat

In Name Only an Oberyn series by @forever-rogue

------

I haven't written a word in weeks, so once again no updates for me :/

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Happy Reading

#the spreadsheet digest #vol 7 #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro fics #pedro pascal character fanfiction #Joel miller x reader #frankie morales x reader #javi peña x reader #Oberyn Martell x reader #Dieter Bravo x reader #Ezra (prospect) x reader #Jack Daniels x reader #din djarin x reader

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rishiguro · 1 year

Text

32; “I SCREWED UP”

it was way too bright for your liking when you woke up. you furrowed your eyebrows as you stirred, heavy eyelids opening after some effort. you looked around, a little lost, before you found iwaizumi sitting next to you.

“hi,” he whispered once he noticed your stare, a tight lipped grin on his lips. “you’ll be okay,” he assured you immediately after, hand engulfing yours and drawing his thumb over the back of yours.

you couldn’t reply yet, still too confused about what was going on as you finally noticed that you weren’t at home. you looked to the other side and found aran standing next to you with his arms crossed over his chest.

“you passed out when i was driving you home, so i took you to the hospital,” he simply said with a quiet voice.

you blinked a couple of times before you looked down. “i’m sorry”

“yeah,” aran sighed, nodding his head slowly and glancing around the room, practically looking at everything but you. “i know”

the awkward silence that settled over the three of you was practically deafening. you quickly examined your childhood friend’s posture as he was standing next to your bed — he was slightly hunched over, despite usually being the one to remind you not to slouch daily, with slight eye bags. he must’ve been waiting for you to wake up for a while. he took consecutive deep breaths and had his hands in his pockets with the veins on his arms protruding. you could tell that he had his hands balled into fists, a habit he took up in his teenage years whenever he was either agitated or upset about something.

you clenched your jaw before turning to your boyfriend on your side.

he didn’t look much better. his leg was bouncing rapidly but other than that he seemed to be completely still, not even his shoulders moving much despite his breathing. he didn’t look at you either, instead staring at the blanket old on top of the lower half of your body. he seemed like he was lost in thought. his lips were dry, you could tell he picked on them a couple of times already. just like aran he looked tired with sunken eyes. he must’ve come to see you as soon as he found out, probably barely getting any sleep himself.

your heart sunk in your chest.

“okay,” you broke the silence, attracting the attention of both men, “i screwed up”

it was your friend who decided to answer, raising his eyebrows slightly, leaning against the wall. “yes you did”

you sat up, drawing your legs closer to you and crossing them. “i didn’t think it was this bad,” you defended yourself, realizing the irony of your words. obviously it turned out to be bad after all, otherwise you wouldn’t be in the hospital right now. “i was fine. i mean, i felt fine,” you insisted before sighing. “guess i wasn’t”

“what gave that away?” aran snickered. “the coughing, dizziness, fever or the passing out?”

you felt your throat closing up again, opening and closing your lips like you were trying to say something, anything, but failing every time, not finding the proper words.

you heard him taking a deep breath and finally sitting down on the empty chair on your side. “i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have said that”

“it’s not like you’re wrong,” you mumbled, twirling your thumbs in your lap. “i know i’m bad at taking care of myself”

the two young men glanced at you expectantly, not saying a single thing. you let a couple seconds pass before you spoke again. “i know, i just got so busy and stressed and i’m finally doing what i’ve wanted to do basically my whole life and i didn’t want to jeopardize it by, well, not showing up,” you rambled.

“you wouldn’t be jeopardizing it,” aran insisted immediately after, “you’re sick. not just not showing up or anything. there’s a difference”

“i barely started working! i can’t already be sick, people need me!” you shot back, standing firm on your point.

iwaizumi leaned forward, grabbing one of your hands into his again, making you look at him instead of your childhood friend. “they do. but they need you to be healthy”

you drew your hand back out of his warm grasp, clenching your jaw. “i’m never healthy! and i’ll never be healthy!” you exclaimed loudly, eyes looking at the blanket on top of your legs. you noticed that it wasn’t the scratchy, white blanket the hospital usually supplies patients with, but instead one of your own blankets. you would recognize it’s soft, comfortable texture and the ugly green wash anywhere — it was the one blanket you always took with you whenever you went to the hospital ever since you were a child. you felt warmth spreading through your chest.

one of your friends must have gotten it for you, knowing how important is was to you and how many memories, good, bad and even painful ones, were stuck to it.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, throat closing up.

“no”

you watched as iwaizumi’s hand carefully inched closer to your tightly closed ones, waiting a couple of moments before carefully untangling them and intertwining his fingers with yours. slowly he raised them up, pressing his lips to the back of your hand.

“i’m sorry,” he said, immediately being followed by aran apologizing to you too. “it was wrong to get mad at you. we’re in a hospital, that’s like, the last thing you need right now”

you could only bring yourself to nod halfheartedly.

it’s not like they were wrong. you knew that you had to change things and pay more attention to yourself and your health.

but it was so exhausting.

you clenched your jaw. you should be doing more. you had to be doing more. these simply were the cards you were dealt and it didn’t matter how tiresome it was sometimes.

“how about we wait until we hear whatever the doctors have to say and we go from there?” iwaizumi proposed. “i’m sure we’ll get somewhere from there” you agreed weakly, leaning back against the wall.

“¥100 it’s just the fucking flu,” you cracked, trying to lighten the mood. you turned your head to both sides, shyly looking at the two people in your room to see if they were reacting to it. iwaizumi couldn’t help but smile slightly, but gave you a warning look. meanwhile aran rolled his eyes at you. “you can say what you want, but your betting problem is just as bad as rintarou’s”

you gasped in fake shock, putting a hand on your chest. “is not!”

“is too. and your jokes are terrible too while we’re at it”

evanescent

/ɛvəˈnɛs(ə)nt,iːvəˈnɛs(ə)nt/ — “soon passing out of sight, memory, or existence; quickly fading or disappearing.”

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taglist: @ninjamomo @not-another-ackerman @midnight-drives-with-sunarin @bloombb @jewlmin @tia827 @namyari @fuckyouwhotookmyname @yuminako @megumuro @saiewithakatana

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ohtobeleah · 2 years

Text

Chaos // Bradley Bradshaw

Chapter Four: Flight 29 Down

Summary: You were told that for this mission to be a success there would need to be no less then two consecutive miracles—but all you got was a back seater and a shitty ex boyfriend.

Warnings: Angst. Rooster x reader. Platonic Bob Floyd x reader.

Word Count: 7.1k

Author Note: We have some platonic Bob moments and a couple of flashbacks. Absolutely powering through this series. Also, for a filler chapter before we get into the big stuff somehow this is 7k.

“Not a morning person Chaos?” Hangman picked the wrong day to try and mess with you, but then again. When was there ever a good time? Slamming your locker had become something of a habit you’d created, but this morning? After having just had your heart torn out and gutter stomped into nothingness by the man you promised yourself you wouldn't go back to– it only seemed out of necessity. You know, so you didn't blow your own brains out. “You look awfully tired? No coffee in the mess hall?”

“Hangman, there are exactly three places you can stay for free, the fuck out of my face, the fuck out of my way and the fuck out of my buisness.” The silence that filled the room, you swore you could hear a pin drop. Everyone looked at you like you’d just committed a crime. Suddenly the centre of attention, exactly where you didn't want to be. Rooster stood by his locker, hurting himself. He didn't have the balls to confront you in the locker room, not after this morning's escapades. He thought some time passing would help ease the situation, perhaps he’d get you at a better time to just explain he hadnt done what you thought he did. He didn't have a girlfriend. He didn't want anyone except for you.

Hangman stared at you with a subtle smirk on his face, chewing a piece of gun as always. Cocky and oh so sure of himself. Looking over your shoulder he saw Rooster staring at you. Guilt just dripping off of him. Jake Seresin was good at a lot of things, but one thing he was exceptionally good at was spotting a guilt ridden man. Choosing to leave the situation he found himself in at that. Not giving you the time of day as he walked away, directly towards Rooster.

“I was right about the eleventh man theory wasn't I?” Hangman whispered as he came to stand next to Rooster. Rooster was adamant if there hadnt been so many people around he would have clocked Jake up the side of the jaw himself, but the risk to reward ratio didn't weigh up in his favour. “What exactly did you do?”

“I messed up.” Rooster's eyes never left you as he watched you leave the locker room, doing up his flight suit as he sighed. His fist slamming against the thin door of his locker. Leaving an indent. “I messed up big time.”

“God what is it with everyone abusing the lockers this morning?” Fanboy questioned as Bob shook his head as if to say don't ask. Hangman was trying his best to put the pieces together, opting to place his hand on Roosters shoulder. Smirking, still chewing that piece of gum Rooster hoped he’d choke on.

“Oh well, you know what they say man, the more you fuck around the more you find out.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“Good morning.” You barely had the energy to sit and listen as Admiral Bates stood before you. Unlike yesterday, you sat snugly between Phoenix and Bob, Rooster’s gaze burning into the back of your skull as you did everything in your power to ignore him. Still seething from your fight earlier that same morning. From having your heart ripped from your chest without any medical intervention. “The uranium enrichment plant that is your target will be operational earlier than expected.” Sighing dramatically as you rolled your eyes, your head lulling to Bob's shoulder in defeat. Honestly at this point it didn’t shock you, you used to think adulthood was one catastrophe after the other– but oh how wrong you were. They all liked to pile on top of one another at the same time.

“Raw uranium will be delivered to the plant in ten days time, as a result, your mission has been moved up one week.” Now that? That sparked your interest slightly. Truth be told, It scared you—what the hell? What time did any of you have?

“I don’t mean to offend, but you know you look like hell right? Everything okay?” Bob leaned over as he whispered in your ear.

“Thanks Bob, you always know how to make a girl feel awfully sure of herself.” You teased as you sat up straight, sending him a soft and subtle smile. “Im fine–” Admiral Bates raised his voice a fraction, gaining your attention once again.

“In order to avoid contaminating the target valley with radiation.” Bob kept his attention on you though. Something had happened, he just wasn’t sure what. You looked tired—sad. What had Bradshaw done? Bob had a pretty good memory and it wasn’t hard to put the pieces together. He knew Rooster had a tendency to break your heart, his favourite pastime. A hobbyist.

“Sir, no one here has successfully flown a low-level course.” Coyote interjected as he sat up a little straighter. More integrated. Concern plastered evidently on his face.

“Nevertheless you've been ordered to move on.” Admiral Bates wasn't a warm man, but this? Even this was a little out of his usual realm of expertise. “Captain–” He gestured as Maverick stepped before the group, you'd all seamlessly lowered yourselves into the chairs you sat on. Defeated even before the first training session of the day. The deck was truly stacked against you, everyone felt it. But you felt it the most. How on earth could you pull yourself together to be able to look Bradley in the eye and confidently tell him you’d have his back if you were told to fly together? At the moment you couldn't. No way in hell, completely blinded by rage.

“We have one week left to focus on phase two, it's the most difficult stage of the mission.” All you could do was listen at this moment in time, but that was difficult when memories of last night were rushing through your head. The juxtaposition of love and wholeness you felt in Bradleys arms completely diminished by the anguish and betrayal you felt when you heard those words come through his phone. His girlfriend? What fucking bullshit. Did you have loser tattooed on your forehead? Perhaps use me?

“It's a pop-up strike with a steep dive requiring nothing less than two consecutive miracles.” Pete held up two fingers as he looked your way, making a mental note at how drained you looked. Something was off– he could tell. Turning his attention to Rooster who sat across the aisle from you, who looked just as awful. Fuck not now. Not with the teams he’d already proposed to the Admirals for training today. Whatever it was, it would have to wait.

“Two pairs of F-18’s will fly in a welded wing formation, teamwork, precise coordination of these aircraft is essential to both the mission's success and your survival.”

“As you know, the plant rests between two mountains.” Pete went on to explain as you watched the graphic play behind him. Taking notes as you watched the screen run through of the mission someone in operations must have digitalised. “On final approach, you’ll invert directly into a steep dive. This allows you to maintain the lowest possible altitude and the only possible attack angle.”

“Your target is an impact point less than three metres wide. The two seat aircraft will paint the target with a laser bull-eye. The first team will breach the reactor by dropping a laser-guided bomb on an exposed ventilation hatch.” This all seemed too surreal. How on god's green earth were any of you supposed to pull this off?

“This will create an opening for the second pair, that's miracle number one.” Maverick pointed out as he walked up and down the front.

“The second team will deliver the kill shot, and destroy the target. That's miracle number two.” It wasn’t that Rooster wasn’t paying attention—he was. But as he fumbled the necklace you’d thrown on his lawn, he couldn’t help if his mind escaped to someplace far away. He’d managed to fix it in the time he sat eating his breakfast before work. Thinking of all the ways he could explain himself.

“If either team misses the target? Then the mission is a failure.” Rooster couldn’t help but to think about the moment he’d gifted it to you. Your sixteenth birthday.

His face still hurt like a mother fucker. The stitches in his eyelid, cheek and neck would be a dead giveaway to the pain that radiated across every inch on his face. But Bradley Bradshaw would need to be six feet under in order to miss your birthday.

“What the hell are you doing here!?” You beamed, so unbelievably excited as you took Bradley into your arms. Being as careful as you could be so as to not hurt him. Still battered and bruised. “You should be at home!”

“I wasn’t gonna miss this.” Bradley beamed back as you gently ran your fingertips across his cheek. “Trust me—it looks worse than it really is.”

“I find that really hard to believe.” Two weeks prior to your sixteenth birthday, Bradley Bradshaw has gone head first out the windshield of his buddy TJ’s 1998 Toyota Corolla. He hadn’t been wearing a seatbelt. For a few days it had been pretty chaotic to say the least. But you’d spent every morning before school and every afternoon after school by his bedside. Some afternoons even staying so late that the nurses had to remind you of visiting hours.

He’d learnt a valuable lesson that day, to savour every moment he could because life was precious. He’d also decided that loving you was going to be the one thing he was going to put any effort, any time into.

“Enough about me—I got you something.” Bradley pulled out a small box from his back pocket. Handing it over as you took it gently. Your dad watching the moment from a distance, asking god to give him strength if a Bradshaw was gonna be the one who stole your heart. “I just thought maybe having something to always know how much I appreciate you would make things a little easier to process when I get myself into situations.” He wanted to say how much he genuinely loved you—but right now? With all your friends and family around for a barbecue, he’d settle.

“Bradley—it’s beautiful.” You cooed as you opened the small box, the left side of a silver broken heart with a small B.B etched into it. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.” Bradley pulled out the other half that hung around his neck. “See, I’ve got the other half.”

“Well I'm sure it’s the only broken heart I’ll ever have as long as I have you around.” Pushing yourself onto the tips of your toes, you gently kissed Bradley Bradshaw on the lips for the second time in his life. Stealing his breath away. The first time being when you were playing a game of spin the bottle at Roger Mclauclans house over the Summer time. “Thank you, I love it.” Bradley remembers washing you dash away to show your mum. He remembered standing still with his eyes on you for what felt like an eternity before your dad made his approach.

“You look more and more like your old man every time I see you kid.” Tom smirked as he stood next to the seventeen year old. “Just don’t grow a moustache, ever.”

“I’m trying my best Mr.K—“ Bradley teased. Rubbing your cheeks. “But I’m not quite there yet.” He remembered standing with your dad, both admiring the person you were becoming, sighing Tom asked an incredible question that Rooster still remembered his answer to word for word.

“What are your intentions with my daughter Bradshaw?”

“Just want to love her the way she deserves to be loved, Mr.K”

“Egress is a steep high-G climb out to avoid hitting the mountain.”

“A steep climb at that speed? You’re pulling at least eight G’s–” Hangman was quick to interject as he sat across the aisle. His eyes drawn to the graphic display behind where Pete stood. He was in this–every ounce of his being was in this mission.

“Nine minimum, most likely.” You offered your opinion easily, knowing eight G’s wouldn’t be enough to get you over the lip. “Closer to ten if you really wanna keep your speed going over the lip–basic aerodynamic maths.”

“The stress limit of an F-18’s airframe is seven point five.” Rooster ran his mouth as you turned to face him in your chair. His eyes dark as he twirled his pen. He’d abandoned all his Inhibitions at the threshold of the door you were so eager to leave through this morning. His neck littered with bruises, reminders of how close he came to being yours again and just how easily he let you slip through his fingers. “Basic, knowing your aircraft.” Bob felt your hand ball up into a fist beside him, opting to cover it with his own as he looked at you completely blinded by range.

“That's the accepted limit, to survive this mission, you’ll pull beyond that. Even if it means bending your airframe.” Maverick had your back, you were right. Rooster eased off a little into the back of his chair, watching as you let your head fall back to Bob's shoulder. Tired. Still listening to what Pete had to say.

“You’ll be pulling so hard, you’ll weigh close to two thousand pounds,your skull crushing your spine, your lungs exploding like an elephant sitting on your chest, fighting with everything you have just to keep from blacking out.”

“And this is where you'll be at your most vulnerable, this is coffin corner. Assuming you avoid crashing into the mountain, you’ll climb straight up into enemy radar while losing all of your airspeed.” A sudden beeping rang throughout the room as you watched the two jets flash red. “Within seconds you'll be fired upon by enemy SAM’s, you've all faced sustained g’s before, but this? This is gonna take you and your aircraft to the breaking point.”

“Sir, is this even achievable?” Phoenix cooed as she sat quietly taking everything in—she’d been benched with a sinus issue for today, grounded.

“The answer to that question will come down to the pilot in the box.” Maverick lethis answer linger for a second as he pulled a piece of paper from his top left pocket. Unfolding it as he rubbed his brow. “First team will be the red team, Hangman flying with Payback and Fanboy. Second team will be the blue team.” You caught onto his pause, perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea Pete thought to himself. But nevertheless—he persisted. A chance now would be detrimental to the lineup of today's runs. “Because Phoenix is out with a sinus issue it’ll be Rooster with Chaos flying pairs with Bob.” This couldn’t be fucking happening.

“Mav!!” You shot up out of your chair like a rocket, laser locked eyes mixed with a locked jaw. “You can’t be serious—“

“Trouble in paradise huh Rooster?” Fanboy bumped into Roosters shoulder as you looked at him. His eyes full of regret and love. Rooster knew you were hurting, but the extent of it he was blind to.

“It’s not a question Lieutenant, either fly or pack your gear. That’s an order.” Vice Admiral Beau’s voice bellowed from the back of the room as you spun around to face him. Groaning, you marched off to grab your gear—feeling completely set up to fail. Deciding hiding your emotions was going to be the only thing that would get you through this day—either that or a lobotomy.

***~***~***~***~

“Chaos!” Rooster caught up with you as you walked towards the double seater F-18 you’d be flying. It had been a minute and truly? You didn't know if you were ready to do this again. Simply because the idea of having Bob’s life in the palm of your hand scared the shit out of you. “Y/n!” You didn't dare slow down, ignoring Rooster as he called your name. “Lieutenant Kazanksy, a word, please?” God he got you with that one. Knowing you couldn't deny a direct order. Rolling your eyes with a huff, you turned to face Rooster. Both geared up in your flight suits and flight gear. “We need to talk–”

“About what, exactly? The way you manipulated me into thinking you really wanted to change or the fact you omitted key details about your blooming love life!” Your voice was just above a scream. Nostrils flaring. You were just trying to protect your heart at this point.

“I didn’t omit anything Y/n, if you would just let me explain then—“

“Unless it's about the mission I would like to refrain from mixing my professional and private life, Sir.” Rooster felt like he’d just been shot in the chest. You wouldn’t give him the time of day to explain. “So, do we still have anything to talk about? Or can I go now?”

“No ma'am, I guess we don't.” Silence fell heavily around the pair of you as you both stood looking each other up and down. You would rather be anyone else right now. You felt dirty, like you had to wash the first three layers of your skin off.

“Good, because this is hard enough for me to handle, standing here–with you, after I fell for the same bullshit again–”

“Y/n.” Rooster reached out to grip your forearm, only for you to pull yourself away. Bob happened to be walking towards you as you grimaced at Roosters touch.

“I sweat to go if you don’t stop touching me Bradshaw I will fucking shove my fist so far down your throat you’ll need a permanent feeding tube.”

“What are you? Psychotic?” Rooster towered over you as you held your ground, how did things change so quickly. Last night you were convinced you were the love of Roosters life. Now you were convinced he’d only ever wanted someone to play with, his personal play-thing.

“I dare you to say that again you sociopath—“ You got a little closer to him. “I’m not afraid to throw hands Bradshaw ask Hangman—“

“Okay–” Bob intervienced as he heard you threatening Rooster, reaching out for your shoulders as he led you away from the confrontation. “Enough of whatever the hell that is?” Looking over his shoulder back to Rooster with a puzzled look. God what the fuck was going on with you too?

“You good?” Bob asked as he offered you a hand up onto the wing of the F-18.

“Never been better Bob—“ Taking it, you huffed as you stepped up. Walking carefully across the mix of carbon fibre and aluminium.

“I’m not feeling inclined to believe you, somethings up.” Bob groaned as he jumped up onto the wing, pulling himself up muscle up style. It always seemed to catch you off guard as to how strong Robert Floyd really was.

“I promise I’m good, just drop it.” Bob was starting to get on your last nerve. But that didn’t stop him as you sat down in your seat. Strapping in.

“You know you’re a bad liar right?” There was something comforting in Bob's persistence. It was coming from the best part of him. But right now? Was the last place you wanted to be grilled about your love life. Behind the throttle of a god damn F-18 fighter jet.

“Jesus Bob, get off my dick—I said I’m fine!” You shouted. Bob didn’t care, he knew he was close to cracking the shell you’d surrounded yourself in. Situating himself behind you as he strapped himself in. Going through the motions. The process.

“You know beauty isn’t your lack right?” Bob learned over your shoulder from his seat behind you. “I mean—if he’s gonna call you a psycho anyway, you may as well cause a scene, just not around me because I feel inclined to intervene.” If there was one thing on this earth Robert Floyd was good at? It was being a good friend. It felt good to fly with Bob again, strange. But good. Going over your systems as you taxied down the taxiway, you made sure your communications systems were still turned off. Sighing as you explained what the hell had been going on.

“We slept together—“ It felt wrong to say. Especially since you’d told Bob just how badly things had ended in the past.

“Oh?” Well, I wouldn’t think that would be—“ You didn’t let Bob finish what he was about to say.

“Then his girlfriend called this morning.” Bob couldn’t see your face, but he just knew by the tone in your voice that you weren’t alright. Not in the slightest bit. “There’s a part of me that loves him unconditionally Bob but I swear to god I’ve never wanted to punch him in his perfect teeth more.”

“Rooster has a girlfriend?” Bob questioned as he continued checking all his systems. “That doesn’t add up?”

“Names Lindsey—“ You interjected. “She called while I was still in his bed.” You groaned as you threw your head back in defeat, squinting your eyes to stop the tears from falling. “I’m the other woman Bob, how fucking gross is that? I should be put down for this.” Placing your helmet on you flipped your visor down. “I’m completely exhausted, emotionally and physically and I feel like I’ve been broken into a million different pieces.” Bob followed suit as he placed his helmet on, flipping his visor down before he responded.

“The world breaks everyone, Chaos, the very good, the very gentle, the very brave–and those it doesn't break? It kills.” Scoffing out a small chuckle, you made your way to the end of the taxi zone.

“Is that from the good book, Pastor Floyd?” You teased as you turned your communications systems on, knowing flight control was having an aneurysm at how long it had taken you to do so. But your conversation about your forever failing love life didn’t need to be the talk of the naval base anymore than it already was.

“The great book, Hemingway.” Bob chuckled as he continued checking his systems. “All I’m trying to say is, if you let him get to you? That’s exactly what he’s gonna do.”

“That advice free?” Clipping your mask over your mouth you signalled the runway guides that you were ready for take off.

“Throw me a fiver and I’ll even write you some positive affirmations.” Bob followed suit, placing his mask on. “All systems are a go back here Chaos.”

“Roger, Roger, preparing for take off—requesting permission to engage in active drill mission run through two two nine four.” You spoke to range control. Waiting for their response you signed, gritting your teeth as you grounded yourself in your professionalism. “Rooster you copy?”

“Check, all systems in check standing by ready for take off.” Roosters' voices hit you like a frate train. He had you feeling all kinds of emotions. There was a part of you that wanted to hear his explanation, but the part of you who just wanted to get as far away from him as possible overpowered that urge.

“God this is gonna take everything I have.”

“Nice Kazansky, way to make a guy feel like you’ve got his back.” Rooster fired back as the remaining pilots sat around the break room listening in.

“The last thing I'd want is to be haunted by the ghosts of you, Bradshaw so of course I have your back.”

Your knuckles felt hash against the front door of Rooster house. Carrying an empty box for the bits and bobs you had left there over the last couple of months.

Breakups were hard enough as it is, but the moment Carole opened the front door? She was embracing you with loving arms. It made it so much harder.

“Oh sweetheart—“ Carole cooed as she pulled away, her hands still resting on your shoulders. “He’s such an idiot.”

“It’s okay Mrs Bradshaw, really.” You wiped your tears before they had a chance to stain your cheeks as you followed her into the home that held so many memories. “Maybe we just weren’t meant to be together?”

“Oh trust me honey you are definitely meant to be together.” Carole Bradshaw had never been one to not speak her mind. Following her down to Bradley’s room, she turned back to you over her shoulder as her feet padded gently against the hardwood floor. “Boys just don’t know how to think—I remember Goose tried to break up with me twice before we got married.”

“Tried?” You asked, following the women who had always treated you like the daughter she never had.

“You think I let him?” She chuckled. “I just never listened.”

“Well, I think Bradley’s pretty set on just being friends right now—“ You explained as you sat down on Bradley’s bed, next to his mother as she pushed your hair behind your ear. Admiring your beauty, your sadness. How you tried to keep yourself together even though your heart was breaking. “And at this point I think I’d just be happy to keep him in my life—so friends it is.”

“He’ll lose you one day if he’s not careful sugar, don’t let any man take you for granted, not even my son—“ Carole had always been good at giving advice. Were you going to listen? Probably not. But it was nice to hear she thought you deserved better. Looking at the picture frame Bradley had on his bedside table of you and him as children playing in the sandpit, you couldn’t hold back your sobs any longer. Falling into Carole’s arms as she consoled you. Her chin resting on the top of your head as her arms wrapped around you tight. “Oh honey, don’t let him get to you like this.”

“Why doesn’t he love me?”

“Talk to me Bob.” Roosters' voices cut through your memories like shards of glass through your skin.

“We’re twelve seconds late on target, we gotta move, we gotta move.” Bob explained as you got yourself back into the game. Throttling forward.

“Copy– Try to stay with me.” Rooster replied as you trailed just behind him. Something appeared on Bob's radar that made him question his judgement.

“Huh? Wait, who's that?” Bob questioned as Mavericks voice was sharp though the comms, coming in hot.

“Blue team, you've been spotted.” Maverick chimed in. Of. Fucking. Course.

“Shit– it's Mav.” Rooster hissed under his breath.

“What the hell’s he doing up here?” You questioned as you tried to stay on target the best you could, flying just shy of Roosters left wing.

“I'm a bandit on course to intercept, blue team what are you gonna do?”

“He's twenty miles left, ten o’clock, seven hundred knots closure.” Bob reported from the back seat as he watched the radar system before him light up. Maverick position changing rapidly.

“Your call Chaos, what do you wanna do?” Rooster’s voice rattled around in your head like a rock. Visions of his body under yours flashing before your eyes as you tried to remain focused. The way he felt inside you, the way he made you feel. Explosions of pleasure still jolting your core, the very essence of Rooster still dripping from you. Metaphorically.

“Continue, we’re close, stay on target Rooster.” He knew he should have just told you, should have just shouted it to heaven and never let you go. He should have tried harder to get you to listen, explain what the hell was going on. But He didnt and Rooster couldn't go back in time no matter how badly he wanted to.

“He's swinging around to the north!” Bob shouted, both you and Rooster committed to seeing this run through out.

“Stand by for pop-up!” Rooster engaged as you failed him. Just behind him.

“Be ready on that laser Bob” You ordered the big eyed, big hearted soul in your back seat.

“Copy” He beamed, his hand coming down to unlock his laser. Your second pair of eyes in the sky.

“Blue team, bandit is still closing–” Maverick chimed in as he came closer and closer to getting you on tone, knowing you were too damn stubborn to leave Rooster.

“Popping now!” Rooster shouted as he pulled back on his throttle, sending the nose of his F-18 high into the sky as you followed shortly after. “Talk to me Bob, where's Maverick!”

“He's five miles out. He's coming fast.” Bob turned to see Maverick coming in hot behind you.

“Targets in sight.” You shouted. Ready for this exercise to be over and done with. You couldn’t handle flying with Rooster—you had to make that known.

“Where's my laser Bob?” Rooster hissed.

“Deadeye, deadeye, it's no good. sorry– I can't get a lock.” You couldn’t help the groan that escaped you. All this effort for a deadeye?

“We’re out of time, I'm dropping blind.” Rooster tried to line his target up the best he could. Dropping blind only to miss. “Dammit, missed.”

“That’s a kill—“ You heard the tone before you heard Pete.

“Mavericks got missile lock on us–” Bob sighed in defeat.

“Shit we’re dead.'' You signed, ripping your mask from your face as you levelled out.

“Blue team, level out– Rooster, Chaos? Nice team work, try a little harder to not die next time.” Just as Maverick pulled up beside you, birds smacked against his window. “Bird Strike!” he shouted as he turned to watch them get sucked up into your engines. Sending you off course for a second before you regained your bearings. Only for a second.

“Bird Strike!–” You gasped, Jesus Christ not now.

“Chaos, you good?” Rooster's voice came through the comms a little unnervingly. “Talk to me Chaos—“

“Chaos, left engines on fire.” Bob relayed what was going on, even though he knew you already knew from the amount of alarms ringing off. This couldn't be happening, not again.

“Climbing!” You began to panic, there was no way this was happening, not now. Not after Lemoore, Not with Bob, not with Rooster. “Throttling back, shutting off fuel to the left engine, extinguishing fire.” Bob watched as the right engine began to diminish, not something you’d want to see at a time like this.

“Chaos, right engines out I repeat! right engines out!” panic laced his tone as Bob watched you do everything in your power to keep you level. Keep him safe, get him back on the ground.

“It’s still spinning, trying to restart the right engine.” You explained as you went through the motions. You lungs felt heavy, like you’d forgotten how to breathe.

“Chaos it’s on fire, don’t try to restart it!” Roosters voice came through the comms. All he could do was watch on in horror as you lost altitude, your engines on fire. Although you were an exceptional pilot, he knew you were panicking. “No—fuck, Y/n don’t!” God he loved you, so much. Rooster prayed to whoever would listen that you’d make it back to base safely. He couldn’t lose you, he wouldn’t be able to handle losing you.

“Throttling up!” Warnings for every single system you had were ringing throughout the cockpit as you tried to regain control of your F-18.

“Chaos we’re on fire, we’re on fire!” Bob shouted, his own heart racing—trusting you to get him the hell out of dodge.

“Dammit–” You groaned. Feeling completely out of your depth. Feeling completely out of control of the situation. Rooster couldn’t breathe as he watched you losing control of your aircraft.

“Chaos, Bob, punch out now, punch out!” Maverick shouted in desperation. Both him and Rooster flying around watching in horror.

“There’s warning lights everywhere Chaos, we’re in hydraulic failure.” Bob reported, there was nothing left to save.

“I can’t control it–” It was the way you said it that broke Rooster's heart as he watched you burn out. He couldn’t lose you, not like this. Not with everything he had left to explain. “I can’t—I’ve lost it.”

“We’re going down Chaos, we’re going in, we're going in!” Bob repeated. Automated warning signals blasting throughout the cockpit.

“You can’t save it, eject, eject!” Rooster cried, hoping his voice would break through whatever clouded panicked judgment you were experiencing. “Get outta there—“

“Eject, eject, eject!” You shouted, Bob was first to pull his emergency handles, seconds later with a solid pull—you felt yourself flying up into the air. Gasping as you flug up and out of the cockpit. It wasn’t long before the jet was barreling down into the side of the valley, exploding on impact.

Damn—that could’ve been you.

***~***~***~***~

Miramar base hospital didn't really get a lot of attention most days. The small clinic accompanied with a few surgical rooms and about a dozen in patient rooms would consider it a busy evening when you and Robert Floyd were brought in for mandatory observation. There was something off putting about being made to do something you didn't want to do. You hated being poked and prodded. Hated being in hospitals, the smell of sterilised everything, it made you feel sick, weak.

“Where is she?” Roosters' voice filled the lobby. Pete Mitchell considered himself to be a patient man, but Rooster was testing his limits. Pushing himself up from the chair he sat in as Rooster came closer—his hand stopping his trajectory by pushing against his chest. “Mav—“

“I don’t know what the hell is going on between you too, but whatever it is needs to stop.” Pete grumbled as he stood before Rooster, a few inches shorter but a few decades older. “Now I've asked Y/n already and she assured me it wasn't going to be, but are you two going to be an issue going forward, or do I need to pull one of you from this program?”

“Now's not the time—where is she?” Rooster held back every single tear he wanted to cry. He’d just witness you eject from your F-18. He’d see it over and over again in his nightmares. He’d never not remember the way he felt watching you go down, thinking he was truly going to lose the love of his life, his best friend, the person who was supposed to know him better than anyone. The one person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, for better or worse. And fuck things had never been wrse between you. “I just need to see her, Pete.”

“She’s with Bob, room nine.” Mavericks' voice was soft and collected as he removed his hand from Rooster. “Bradley, she’s alright, but I can't not look past whatever is going on between the two of you, it's distracting and dangerous, it's against protocol.” Rooster didn’t respond, he simply turned on his heels and ran down the hall, ignoring whatever Pete had to say as he followed the numbers on the doors, mostly empty until he spotted a very frazzled, very dazed Bob sitting in the corner of room nine. Stopping in his tracks as he saw you in the bed, out cold.

“They had to give her a sedative.” Bob explained as Rooster stepped into the room, his eyes immediately locked on you. Never wavering. “She wasn’t being cooperative—I was gonna leave but.” Bob paused as he choked up. “I know she wouldn’t leave me.”

“Bob I—“

“What the hell is your problem?” Bob hissed as he stood from his chair in the corner of the room. “Chaos told me what happened—“

“Yeah well, she wouldn’t let me explain that I don’t have a girlfriend!” Rooster had had a gutful. “I don’t—I wouldn’t do that to her! God I tried to explain it to her but she wouldn’t listen to me.”

“Full disclosure, it's none of my business and I really couldn't care less about any of it.” Bob hissed as he stood beside Rooster, both men watching as you slept. “But you look like the biggest idiot on the planet in my eyes.”

“Don't know how I'll ever recover.” Rooster replied, almost rolling his eyes. What did Bob know? Rooster didn't care about how he thought about him, all Rooster cared about was you.

“She’s in love with you, Rooster, undeniably and wholeheartedly in love with you for some unknown reason I dont think I'll ever understand.” Bob spoke softly, his own gaze watching as your chest slightly fell, you were still breathing. Good. “She told me that she’d never go back to her ex because that would be doing herself a disservice. She knew if she went back to him, she’d end up just as broken as she was left all the other times before.” That stug to know, that you had disclosed so much about him yet so little. But what hurt to know the most was that the damage Rooster had managed to unintentionally do, caused you so much pain. “But as much as she told me she hated him, she hates herself even more because she knows deep down he could put her through everything, rip her heart out, break it a million times, but for the chance of getting to feel an ounce of love–an absolutely miniscule amount of love she deserves, she’d swim across oceans and run across fire for him.” Rooster stood next to Bob as he tried to take everything in, his head throbbed. It was hard to deny he never needed you more than he did right now, never needed your reassurance more. Never needed to hear your laugh or see you smile or feel your touch more than he did right this very moment. Because watching you almost die, coming that close, Rooster finally understood he couldn't live without you even if he tried.

“I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say that ex is you, Bradshaw.”

“It is now will you two be quiet?” You grumbled as you turned away onto your side. “I'm gonna press the distress button if you don't quit it.” Bob couldn't help but to laugh softly to himself as he shook his head, patting Rooster on his shoulder.

“I'm not a betting man, but if I was? I'd put a twenty on your jaw looking worse than Hangmans in about ten minutes.” Bob had to leave it at that, he knew you could take care of yourself. But that didn't stop him from just making sure that the ones who hurt you the most knew he wasn't very fond of them, regardless if you went back to them or not. Rooster dragged a chair to the side of the room you were facing. Sitting down as close to you as he possibly could without actually being in the bed with you.

“Chaos–”

“I'm calling security.” Reaching out for the remote, Rooster grabbed your wrist as his eyes grew a little wider. “Bradshaw, I'm serious, you are the last person I want in here right now.”

“Okay fine, but let me explain first.” Rooster let your wrist go. Watching as you pulled the thin cover up over your body a little more. The room as cold as your heart. “Lindsey, isnt, my, girlfriend.” Rooster put so much emphasis on the four words he wanted you to hear loud and clear. “She was a fling who is still a little obsessed.”

“I couldn't imagine why–” you snarled. Rooster chuckled as he leaned back in the armchair. Silence filling the room for a moment.

“I understand the picture you've painted of me isn't all that great.” I know I've hurt you, over and over, but I promise you–you’re it Y/n.”

“I'm no stranger to being lied to, Bradshaw, don't start this shit again.” You huffed, rolling over in the hospital bed you laid in, still medicated, still heavily sedated. But not enough to not remember Rooster was bad for you. Heavily addicted to a drug that you knew one day would be the death of you. Rooster let you roll over, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he hung his head low.

“You don't have to believe me–”

“I dont–” You didn't care that you had interrupted Rooster. You just wanted him to leave. Your back to him still as he tried to explain himself.

“But–” He continued effortlessly. “I thought I'd lost you.” The weight of Rooster's words felt like an elephant sitting on your chest. He already had? What difference did it make if you were alive or dead. “You’re all I want, you’re all I have.” Singing, you sat up, crossing your legs under the blanket that kept you warm.

“Bradley, my plan fell out of the sky today. Do you really think I give a shit about your feelings right now?” Picking at the cuticles of your nails. “There will be a day when I can look at you again without feeling sick to my stomach but today is not that day.”

“I just want you to know I didn't use you, I don't have someone wondering what I'm up to behind their back, I'm not a cheater.”

“Well I'm glad you can take that off the list of things you are.” Turning to Rooster, you held back tears as you saw him holding the broken heart necklace you'd thrown from your car. Handing it to you as you shook your head with a scoff. God he pulled out all the heartwarming stops huh.

“If you honestly think we can’t make this work. Tell me to walk away right now and I will.” You didn't respond, god you wanted to, you wanted to tell Rooster to get up and get out so badly, but you couldn't. No matter how hard you tried. “I should have told you earlier, but I would never do that to you, never–you are the only person I ever want to be with.”

“You said it yourself Bradshaw, all this bullshit? It's a chain reaction that started with you and I can’t do this ag—-“

“Lieutenant kazansky?” Before you had a chance to finish what you were saying, A gentle knock came from the door of your hospital room. Vice Admiral Beau stood with his shoulders slightly hung. A sadness in his eyes as he approached your bedside.

Remember how you thought adulthood would be one catastrophe after another? But as it turned out, catastrophe’s love to bombard you all at the same time. Well, you now had another catastrophe to add to the ever expanding list that included but wasn’t limited to, Bradley bradshaw still owning your heart, regardless of his antics. Jake Seresin and his cocky attitude, Pete Mitchell and his threats of expulsion from the detachment if you didn't get your act together, your wingman's death, and now?

“It's your father–”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Chaos Masterlist

Tags: @lyannaredbird @luckyladycreator2 @skagelynn @teacupdreams @the-winter-marvel33reblogs @mrsjaderogers @katieshook02 @thescarletknight2014 @justanothermagicalsara @4ngelicb4byy @percysaidnever @puriini @luckylexie @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @shrimping-for-all @fayethefairy @lonelywitchv2 @mizzzpink @unforgettwble @itzyogurl92 @lemoonandlestars @mulletmcghee @redqueeen99 @bucky-barmes @mak-32 @fivsecondsflat @loveless-simp

#bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #too gun maverick #top gun fandom #bradley bradshaw angst #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bob floyd x y/n #hangman x y/n

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aseaofyoongi · 1 year

Text

a years interlude | kth

kth x reader (f)

genre: 19th century; one-shot

rating: mature audiences only (18+)

summary: a story of pain, healing, love, and the yearning of the heart.

warnings: slight mention of blood; non-descriptive (brief) mention of dead fetus (lost baby at birth); memory loss; slight fluff; penetrative sex; cunnilingus; clitorial stimulation; nipple play; hand job; taehyung looking like a 19th century prince in his photofolio; if non-19th century things are mentioned i am so sorry, i tried to do as much research as possible but so many personal things went down while I was writing this that research was slim.

word count: 10,9 thousand words

posted: friday january 6, 2023

The Levate was your home. It had been assigned as your unruly fate far before you were even a fetus in your mother’s womb.

It was your destiny.

The tale commenced about two-hundred years prior, with your great grandmother. She was a mere lass—young, beautiful and most importantly educated girl. It was a rarity for its time. Initially, the men in her family, your family, were destined healers but your great grandmother’s father's bloodline was referred to as fragile and it was ‘cursed’ with just daughters.

One after another after another.

A couple of years passed before the men of the village realized that their people would only benefit in allowing the women of your family to become a part of the legacy and aid those in need. . Especially, the wives of the select few who were in need of assistance during childbirth, word had it women were growing uncomfortable in being presented with male assistance while they carried their babies for nearly nine months and then having inexperienced servants assisting during deliveries— numerous women left to neighboring villages which implemented the requirement of having qualified female only aids during their pregnancies and in their labor confinements.

After a rather hefty consensus the people of the town spoke and your family was granted their titles as former healers and reputable midwives.

Upon shadowing her nearly retired father and the accoucheuse from neighboring villages, your great grandmother learned the complexity of your modern medicament rapidly. She was very astute, stretching as far as the barriers of your society allowed her to reach. Truth was despite everything she was still a woman and was only allowed a speck of liberty—and one single mistake sent her down a bridle pathway of damnation for an eternity and her grave would be dug up by the Kim family.

The Kim’s were the most powerful family in the village, simulating the most vicious predators at the peak of the food chain. They were pythons while the rest of you were rodents. Their formidable force stemmed from their affluence leading them to soar like eagles in the expansive sky, high beyond the passing clouds—they were as close to royals as Hawkshead could attain.

Your great grandmother had been called on by Viscountess Kim to service in the delivery of what would be their fifth child. They were hoping for a male to supply as an eventual successor after being consecutively burdened by a string of daughters. The task was seemingly simple as she already had a hefty resume in delivering babies day in and day out but this particular delivery was. . arduous. The pressure was immense, she knew there was little room for error, and despite the dozen pound weight dragging from her shoulder, she graced her mind with confidence; the assurance of her skills and began her duty as a midwife.

Things began as usual, the dimly lit birth chamber was crowded by servants as they serviced Viscountess Kim any and all of her absurd requests ranging from kneading her feet beyond comfort to fetching her intricate suppers that could only be found a whole town away. The room was aromatized with the soft scents of chamomile, her remedy for easing the nerves. That was all she could provide but of course, medicine then, wasn’t what it is now.

Her duty was to sit and wait. And then sit and wait some more—until baby Kim has decided it was finally time to meet the world.

From her place at the delivery stool her eyes roamed across the unblemished midnight sky. There were innumerable stars prancing around the black vastness accompanying the moon as they danced a soft tango together. Nights were serene; peaceful and she always found herself enthralled in it. The twinkling seams of the stars were dazzling yet there was no way she could look away. Initially, there was a brief silence amongst the emergent storm sweeping across the dormitory, she recalled screaming; frantic screams. In the beginning they were muffled, so far away, for a brief second she had thought Lord Kim was chopping off someone's head down the corridor—except, it wasn’t.

Lady Kim was beginning to hyperventilate, she broke out in sweats, and the lady maids were flailing their arms in the air calling your attention, their attempt at getting her to snap out of her trance.

“We need help,” she’d heard from one of the many nameless figures accompanying the Viscountess.

“Just give me some space,” she abandoned her spot near the window now sitting at the foot of the bed, “fetch me more linens.”

She was heaving, trembling, gasping for air and her screams could likely be heard by the Levate. Her forehead glistened, “I need him out of me,” her breathing was heavy, “I need him out.”

There was a cold bead of sweat rolling down her back but she remained in her position waiting for baby Kim, (hopefully, a boy), to greet you with bright chocolate eyes and raucous cries. You instructed her to push, and she complied. Again, you communicated the same and she did as told. She pushed harder and harder, until the fetal head crowned.

She almost sighed with relief.

Almost.

But the room was eerily still.

Baby Kim, the baby boy, was now in her hands but he was not weeping—his eyes were closed, and his skin was a shade of periwinkle.

He was not breathing.

“How is my baby?” Lady Kim asked.

But she stood, completely still, the tiny body of what was supposed to be a healthy scion laid in her arms, unmoving.

“How is he?” She asked once again.

Your great grandmother’s skin glimmered in the dim candle light as the sweat trickled down her forehead. She quickly walked the boy to the baby bassinet and laid him down.

“Is he OK?” her pleas to know rumbled in the inner walls of your ears, and all you could do was rummage through your brain for an answer on what to do—this had never happened before. She’d always delivered healthy babies, always.

How could this happen? She had not pulled too hard, the mother seemed in good health. . What evil lurked in the shadows to drag this baby away from its mother before she even has the chance to hold him in her arms?

Lady Kim sat up on her elbows—her eyes were mimicking the sparkle of shining glass, she was shaking with anxiousness; fear.

“The baby-”she stammered, “h-he’s”

Words failed her. Her tongue felt heavy in her mouth and no matter how she tried to structure the news, sentences did not come easy to her.

“He’s what?” the Viscountess yelled, her voice vibrating through the walls like a high pitched sound wave, “how is my baby boy?”

“Baby Kim has passed on, Lady Kim. My sincerest apologies,” She bowed as her voice cracked delivering the unfortunate news.

The viscountess’ wails were inconsolable, they were haunting and your great grandmother couldn’t help but hang her head in shame. Everything her father taught her was flushed down the drain, her career as a healer was compromised and her life was not guaranteed at the sake of her failure.

All her certainties hung by a single thread and her freedom disintegrated when a lock and chain adorned her wrists and soon as Viscount Kim heard of the unfortunate events surrounding the birth and death of his only son. He—they blamed her for the entire thing, despite her best interest always being the delivery of a healthy boy. They did not listen to her, instead they ostracized her and held a trial to supply her culpability. Her charges included, ‘conspiring against the noble Kim.’

You closed her journal up and slouched on your rickety rocking chair, swinging back and forth lightly.

That was all written by her.

She wrote it as an autobiography for the following generations to understand—it was a reminder of the story you didn’t need to read because you knew it by heart; you lived it; you simulated her pain.

After the verdict was delivered by the counsel, composed of those hand selected by the Kim family, for the proceedings of an unjust trial. They were ready to send your great grandmother to be executed. Hastily, they came to the realization that our family were the only healers in Hawkshead and the nearest family of honorable medicinal knowledge settled days away from our village, so instead of ending her life. . They decided to sentence her and the women to follow to be banished, and sent her on exile to the Levate.

So they walked her to the outskirts nearing the barrier of the viridescent enchanted forrest—she was to reside there and if her knowledge was ever requested they would seek out for her, but that was not her only duty, she was to assist all men injured in the Levate and guide them out the barrier in the direction of the village.

It was the punishment of imprisonment without the shackles, but at least in a cell you had cell mates, guards, people around you—there was nothing but emerald pasture and brobdingnagian trees for miles into the dense forest.

Her husband and son stayed behind in Hawkshead and they continued the legacy of male healers while the women in our family were condemned by her mistake. We were sent to fend for ourselves in the estranged surroundings of the Levate as soon as it was decided by the Kim counsel. A lot of them wed and snuck their husbands in and out of the forest but it wasn't in your intention to subject a man through the complications of the barrier but specially you did not plan to contribute a child into the damnation of this curse. Your predestined beginning and end was as it was, your inevitable demise. There was nothing you could do about it but your principles—your conscience wouldn’t allow you to drag someone else to be a subject of this morbid ordeal and while residing in the Levate was out of your reach; celibacy was the only aspect of your life you had control over.

It’s been a continuity of the same thing, day after day, the same sky up above, the same redundant emerald leaves on the same golden tree branches.

Everything was the same.

It was revolting and it sent you on a spiral of drumming headaches, the same four walls in this same cabin, and the same scenery outdoors.

Five years down, an eternity to go.

An eternity. Seems like ages away but our perception of forever is but mere speck in our reality because to the people out there—living, laughing, loving, life is dazed and comes and goes in the blink of an eye but within the barriers, behind the unchanged days and the repetitious routine your eternity has exceeded the five years you’d been in here and it seemed roads away from where you stood in that moment.

Though you were promised occasional outings of aid, not a single person back in the village has requested your healing abilities for months now and no one ever stumbles past the barriers unless absolutely necessary. You were completely alone, left to rot in abandonment—the Kim counsel knew that but you were certain the infliction of isolation was their specialty for torture.

Nightfall approached quicker than expected that day but you supposed it was the repercussions of being cocooned behind your probing thoughts for a clock’s worth. After dining and changing into your nightgown, you found yourself laying down on the creaky bedstead, you kept your window open becoming astounded by the luminosity of the night sky. The pale crescent moon shone like a bright pearl, and the blanket of winking stars stretched to infinity. Their soft glint mimicked the flickering candle light of your neighbors back at the village, and for a single moment. . you weren’t forgotten, they were just a door away keeping you company until you were finally able to drift off into a deep slumber.

“There’s word in town about the death of the Lord Kim,” There were two girls walking by the southeastern border of the Levate, close to where you currently kneeled picking berries.

Although you could not see their faces, the youth and naivety in their tone was indication enough that they were young, far too young to acknowledge the gravity of their claims.

Being in seclusion was a dead man’s curse because despite the exigency of claims floating around the forest’ border you could never truly confirm its legitimacy.

One of the girls hushed the other, and they began their soft whispers but you could still hear. They were to keep away from the barrier, you should’ve probably warned them but their gossip was far more interesting.

“How could you even know of this?” one of the girls questioned, you didn’t dare peek out from your place behind the bushes to see who they were. . just listened, “what business have you in the Kim estate?”

“For starters, they called on that knowledgeable nurse from Lockwick and the lady maids have been spreading word around town.”

“I suppose you’re right but how could we be certain? They all hide so discreetly behind those golden gates.”

“Process of elimination obviously,” —you’d admit this is the most intel you have eavesdropped on in the last one thousand eight hundred and twenty five days. They continued, “The Kim daughters are all married off, their son is off on a voyage and Lady Kim was seen in town just two days ago. Who is the only person we have failed to see for weeks?”

“I suppose you’re right,” she continued in a whispering voice, “that still is no proof of his passing. I think we should wait and keep this to ourselves if we don’t want to end up like that girl who was banished there.” They were probably pointing into the Levate and were certainly referring to you.

Is that all you were in the village? A fable? A tactic to scare kids into respecting their elders? Did anyone even know what happened?

You sat on the soil which likely stained your blush pink skirt—you couldn’t bring yourself to care however.

‘like that girl’

‘that girl’

The words bounced in your head, their kinetic force dented the delicate walls of your brain. You just played their predicament over and over in a continuous loop. You were alive, breathing but you were as good as dead.

Noone remembered you or your name or what you stood for. Noone knew who you were anymore. You felt like an ant on a planet of giants—so insignificant and useless.

Your only consultation lay beside Lord Kim, in his deathbed if he was even dead. Your hope is rooted, that with his passing, the abolishment of the previous ancient laws and regulations would be mandated. This could be the opportunity to get out of here for good, to leave Hawkshead and live for yourself. You had never wished for the cessation of anyone before but you sure hoped there was a stone with his name engraved on it somewhere, especially after the hand he’s dealt in the suffrage of the women in your family, especially after he held onto the grudge of his ancestors as if they were his own.

Your brain was still frazzled by the rumors of the young girls, still, you attempted to map out who the following Viscount would be to serve as a successor. You doubt any of their daughters would come back, they are all married into wealth far richer than the Kim’s could even dream of. There was their eldest son who was off on a voyage and no one had seen sight of him for the last 11 years. No one knew exactly who he was anymore or what he looked like for that matter.

If speculation was right and Lord Kim has passed—their mysterious son should be coming into town. Perhaps, you could try and arrange a meeting with him, and argue your case.

You could be free.

At last there was hope. The possibility of a future you actually had the chance of living.

You skipped the rest of the way to the cabin. Your feet felt lighter against the verdure path—a buoyant spark coursed through your blood stream, the current sent you floating in mid-air. Intoxicated off ecstasy at the mere grasp of the potential freedom you so desperately craved.

You stood near the barrier.

You were still in the Levate but there was a shift in the surroundings you were so accustomed to. Your initial thought was to run once and for all but your thoughts kept you grounded right where you stood.

Of course, you’ve thought about escaping but if the journals had taught you anything it was that running away would only lead to your demise.

All of your ancestors who disappeared. . turned up in a wooden box days after. You supposed freedom in the afterlife was much better than no freedom at all but you craved living and besides you couldn’t give the Kim’s the satisfaction of seeing you crumble.

You couldn’t.

You breathed slowly as the figure on the other side stood facing you. Its face was blurred and the usual lines outlining one's eyes, nose and lips were consumed by irrefutable darkness.

“Who are you?” You yelled out. . No response, “what are you doing so near the barrier?”

It held its hand out—palm stretched out reaching for you; calling out for you.

“I cannot leave unless called for medical assistance purposes,” you stepped closer to the barrier. . definitely digging into treacherous territories, “this is my home.” The words tasted so sour on your tongue, because although you were forced into the Levate it certainly wasn’t a home.

It remained in the same position, you knew you should’ve been petrified but his demeanor was inviting, it called out to you. His vocal vibrations perforated right through the barrier and enchanted the soles of your feet leading you to inch closer and closer to it.

“I can’t. .” you mouthed.

You looked back into the thicket there was nothing left for you here.

One step closer.

The bottomless feeling of loneliness vanished and was replaced with optimism. You shouldn’t wait to go far away.

“I shouldn’t. .” you mumbled.

“Come to me,” you heard, the voice was monotone, displaying no real sense of emotion, “we must make haste.”

“No. . no. .” Your objections convinced no one at all, not even yourself—but your eyes were closed and you shook your head vigorously, “No. .” you chanted over and over.

The voice which was once louder than yours, sounded farther and farther away, its words became muffled and disintegrating in your head. Suddenly, there was a shift and his pleas to have you disobey the rules set upon your life became cries for help.

“Help,” it repeated once over.

“Shut up.” You screamed, finally opening your eyes, there was nothing but darkness. . and you were laying in bed.

You were just dreaming.

You sighed, relieved to learn that you were not on the brink of insanity. . a little deprived of formal human interaction but you weren’t entirely a lost cause yet. Perhaps, the whole thing was rooted from the lone thread which remained intact, the same one which was to eventually lead you right out of the Levate, if the Kim son was as merciful as he was rumored to be in the village back when you were younger.

You sat up on your bed, a cold bead of sweat traveled along your temples and once again you found yourself in solace within the night sky. It was peaceful, as usual, but you couldn’t help but wonder how far the sky stretched. Was there such a place on earth where the heavens met its end? A place where you could climb up the stars as you would a ladder and swim amongst them forever.

There was a whimper, initially, it was faint and you thought it came from a traveler on the pathway near the barrier. But the whines became louder and louder and they were followed with soft cries for help. Unfamiliar, to the one in your dream this voice sputtered much more emotion, whoever it belonged to, surely they were hurt.

You slid on your slippers and made kitten strides towards the front door of the cabin.

“Is there anyone here?”

You grabbed onto the door handle, before stopping for just a second to take a deep breath. After grabbing the lit up lantern from the nearby countertop you made your way out of the house.

“Where are you?” you called out once stepping off the last wooden staircase.

Realistically speaking, you were aware you should’ve armed yourself with a kitchen knife for protection—but you were steered by adrenaline almost; shaken with the possibility of your first patient in five years. Guzzled, with the idea of the presence of another human being on the premises.

“I’m on the left side of your lovely home.”

“Lovely. .” You scoffed, more like hell.

When you finally reached him, he was crushing your rose bush as he remained sprawled out on the ground.

“Are you in need of some assistance, sir?” You asked in the utmost innocent voice.

“Uh,” He groaned, “Yes. . yes please.”

“How did you end up past the barrier?”

“I came. .” he scratched the back of his head, his voice you noticed was grave, much lower than you could remember any man sounding like back in Hawkshead. It was soothing, and felt just as it does when the sun hits your skin on a hot summer day, “I can’t actually remember..”

“The barriers have that effect on people, especially those who were not cursed to be in here.”

“Cursed?” he asked.

“Yes, I’ll explain soon. How about I help you up and we can chat inside. I’m getting a bit cold out here.” You stretched for him to grab, he did, and you quickly led him to the safety of your home. You sat him on one of the dining room chairs and pulled the second one for you right beside him.

“Welcome to the Levate,” you placed the lantern on the table. The swaying of the candle’s flame reflected on his perfect fucking face.

Actually, was there anything more passionate than the word perfect? because if there was, it would still not be enough to describe the beauty of the man you’d just housed.

“The Levate.” He repeated, his expresso eyes glimmered under the flickering flame, they sparkled like the hundreds of bright friends you had found in the dead of night every dawn.

“Yes,” after washing your hands and gathering a bottle of whiskey, cloth bandages, tweezers, and a cold compress for his head you took a seat beside him

“Is this forest part of the village up ahead?”

“You remember Hawkshead?”

“Is that the village?”

You hummed.

“Vaguely.”

You placed the cotton cloth with ice against the bump on this forehead, “Is it ok if we remove this sleeve of your shirt?” You pointed at the bloodstained sleeve with the scattered holes which were likely a result of the thorns dug into his arm from your roses. He nodded, “does it hurt?”

He shook his head, “not really.”

“Can you remember your name?” You asked, slowly removing the shirt as to avoid more injury.

“Tae,” he winced. “All I remember is being called Tae.”

“Ok, Tae. .” you began, “This is going to pinch just a bit but you let me know if you want me to stop.”

Tae nodded. His arm had seven thorns adorning his honey-toned skin. “Do you remember anything about your family?”

“Not really,” You pulled out the first thorn and he winced, just six more to go, “I remember I have a mother and like 5 sisters but their names are blank. Is this normal here. . In the Levate?”

“Yes,” you pulled out two more, “It is. To on goers the Levate is a pause in time. This is the forest of abandonment—while in here your mind is on pause and all your memories are tampered by the forces casted upon the ambience.”

“So when I leave—”

“I have never had the liberty to leave but I believe I’ll be but a faint memory.”

“Are you stuck here?” You pulled out the remaining with little to no reaction from him.

You nodded. A faint smile was pressed upon your lips.

“I suppose I am.” After grabbing the whiskey and pouring some into a cloth you began dabing his wounds to prevent infection. His gaze was on you like a spell and while you tried to remain focused you couldn’t help the stutter in your movements as you began wrapping his arm up.

“What does that mean?”

“My great great grandmother made a very wealthy family in the village angry and ever since then the healing female descendents have been casted to an eternity of damnation here in the Levate. This is our home for the rest of our lives.” You looked right into his gleaming orbs in an attempt to hide the melancholiness in yours, his were soft; soulful; and you could easily map out the entire galaxy in them.

“Have you ever tried to just up and leave?”

“Others have tried but it didn't quite work out.”

“These people really hold onto grudges don’t they,” he shook his head.

“I guess it’s human nature.”

“What’s yours?” You stood to discard the supplies you had used to assist him. The ill-lit cabin was the worst reminder of what your human nature was; the Levate was too; your lineage; you were.

“To be alone.”

“And you believe that?”

“Doesn’t really matter what I believe because it is as it is. There’s nothing to change now and the only person who can is on voyages nowhere to be found.” Saying it out loud was unsparing—every time those hopeless words met your tympanum it added to the deeply rooted sentiment of wanting out, of searching for a better tomorrow.

“Who can?”

“Their son.”

“And he’s gone?”

You shrugged, “not dead just away from Hawkshead.”

He slouched back on the chair, lips spread widely in a yawn, his toned chest was exposed under the two torn buttons on his white top—he looked exhausted.

“Well this is the only home in the Levate but you are more than welcome to stay over as long as you like.” You offered.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course, my tiny prison is your tiny prison.” You smiled.

“I love the decorative statements you’ve made here,” he unhurriedly scanned the cabin’s walls, taking it all in inch by inch, “especially this unique wall paper.”

“It’s sun dried flowers. . they were all dead.”

“Well they certainly bring life to the place.”

“Thanks.”

His smile was wide, so luminous it lit up the pathway back to the village even from here. “And where shall I divulge in my slumber? I require a lot of commodities, you know.”

“Of course, will a sleeping bag or a duvet do?”

“Duvet sounds lovely.”

“I’ll fetch that for you.”

Mornings were always your favorite time of the day. You awoke, read a few pages from your ancestors journals or medical books, prepared a pot of tea and fetched the daily nutritional offerings left for you by those in the village. It was a routine, one you have grown accustomed to, and embraced dearly because it reminded you that despite being shunned away you were still here. Alive. Breathing.

You rubbed sleep off your eyes and sat up on the bed.

“Good morning,” the voice was invasive and although you knew Tae was here, you just weren’t used to having anyone around.

“Good morning to you.” you reciprocated, “you seem to be doing well this morning.”

“It was but a couple of scratches.” His back was still turned to you as he scrambled around on top of the stove, “I’m much better. I really hope you weren’t expecting me off this early.”

“Honestly, I thought you would’ve ran out of here as soon as the sun emerged.”

“Why is that?”

“A lot of men flee from the burden of not knowing. Actually, no. . Nobody has ever stumbled amongst my gardens before. I assume they would all run for the hills.��

“Assumptions are not facts.” Tae handed you a piece of bread and a small cup of coffee, “I hope you do not mind me staying just for a bit though.”

“That is fine with me.” You deliver softly. The only burden weighing on your shoulders was getting used to being around Tae and then having to watch him cross that barrier to his regular life back in the village without the faintest memory of you.

“Are you alright?” He asked, taking a seat next to you on the bed.

You nodded, “I’m alright.”

“So. .” he rubbed his hands on his slacks, “What’s on the itinerary for the day?”

“Not much actually,” you laughed as you were reeled back into your pathetic life, “there are very few things to do in here.”

Tae smiled so tenderly it felt as if you were floating on water—as if you were being swayed aimlessly on a body of water. Allowing the curvatures of his mouth to direct you as they pleased. It felt so refreshing having someone smile at you that way. You couldn’t quite get enough of it.

“Anything in particular you need to get done?”

“I need to go wash my clothes in the river.”

“I’ll come along.”

Upon making it to the river you landed at the usual spot on the river bank where a couple of boulders sat. You placed your basket on the ground and reached for the first item before smearing soap on it to slap, twist and rub the clothes against the rock.

You repeated the same for everything you brought over which was not necessarily a whole lot but you felt the need to distract yourself from being so indulged in Tae’s presence.

“So what are you going to do to arrange a meeting with this wealthy person to get you out of here?” He laid on the grass, his head touched your calf slightly and you swore you could feel the small sparks beginning to ignite as his dark hair tickled your skin.

“First, I have to see if he’s back in town.”

“And how would we know?”

You shrugged, “They’re pretty well known so I’m hoping word gets around and somehow makes it back to me.”

“That’s an absurd plan.” His protests were right but you really had no way of arranging for things to be executed in a better way.

“Well, Tae, that is the best I could come up with. There’s no other way.”

“Are you even being watched here?” He asked.

“I walked the perimeter of the Levate previously but I didn’t see anyone guarding it but all my previous ancestors who have attempted an escape have been killed shortly after leaving.” You twisted the cloth a bit harder against the hard surface.

“So they’re not caught leaving but instead on the road out of the village. I’m guessing they’ve been unlucky enough to encounter people who honor that wicked family.” Tae continued, “how many have tried to escape?”

“Two.”

“One’s a coincidence but I believe in a situation like this two might be intentional. I’m not sure I remember but there might be guards watching movement in and out of the village”

“Seems like it. . but I do not plan an escape. I wanna leave out of here honorably and to break this stupid curse once and for all. It needs to end with me.” You rubbed harsher and harsher.

“I promise I will remember you. I’ll help you get out of here,” he sat up and guided your chin towards him—your eyes met his once again. They were dark this time, almost black and you could tell he actually meant the words he said and even though you did not quite believe he had a say in remembering anything upon crossing the barrier you smiled either way. He believed in you and your hopes of getting out and that’s all that mattered.

“I’ll hold you to that.” You laughed playfully.

“You won’t have to wait long.” He held your hand and his thumb rubbed circles on your wrist, “I promise.”

Promise. The density of the word was far too great and while you wanted to believe Tae’s dulcet words, you knew that even if unintentionally he would forget about your existence the moment he left.

His heart was in the right place but you could not get your hopes up on empty promises.

You just had to find the Kim son.

“It’s really no trouble. I don’t want you knocking door to door back at the village asking about the girl living in the woods.”

“I’ll do it if I have to. You are not your ancestors’ mistakes. You deserve a chance at a life to live.” His touch was still soothing against you, it mimicked the softness of silk and you could maintain your fingers intertwined for an eternity. Funny enough in this situation an eternity did not seem long enough to have Tae holding you as he was.

“I’ll be here.” There was a flutter in your heart—something you’ve never felt before, “I would ask about you but your memory is impaired at the moment.”

“Yeah,” He scoffed, “I’m hoping I’m an only child and hopefully a succeeding prince.”

“A prince would never set foot in Hawkshead.”

“Perhaps I was in search of my princess.”

“In Hawkshead?” you shook your head, “again. . unrealistic.”

“Not entirely.” He laid back on the grass and closed his eyes, “It is no secret how desperate princes tend to be.”

“So now you are desperate?”

“Perhaps,” he shrugged.

“Perhaps—” you reiterated, “and what exactly is his desperateness dependent on?”

“The lady I would be searching for I guess.”

“I’m sure there are countless potential maidens to choose from back in Hawkshead.”

“Hawkshead?” He chuckled amusingly.

“Well, yes, that was your intentional destination. Was it not?” A breeze swept swiftly easing the haze raging in your head as a result of Tae’s words and the scorching mid-summer sun.

“Intentional?” he shrugged, “Sure. But I believe I ended up right where I needed to be.”

“You believe so?” You hummed.

“I know so.” Tae was confident and the certitude behind his words sent a shiver down your spinal cord—just twenty four hours with him and your heart began to pounce at your chest whenever his voice graced your ears. Your movements slowed and you felt breathless as if his being alone sucked the air right out of your lungs.

“The implications of this place are less than ideal don’t you think?” you resonated.

“You have lived it darling. Is the Levate substandard?”

“It is like a prison chamber,” you scrubbed the top in your hands so hard it felt like you were grating your palm on the boulder.

“Do you not believe yourself to be free?”

“I live the same days over and over again, Tae. There is no freedom within these borders.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

His being was alluring like one of those paintings your father kept in his study back home. The soft strokes of the emerald grass complimented the honey tone Tae seemed to have adopted for the duration of summer. Elegance augmented his features from his dark locks, to the soft smile curved at his face, to his attire.

He belonged in an art gallery.

He cleared his throat, “can I ask something?”

“Sure.”

“Is your love already promised to someone else once you leave this place?”

“No.” One word responses were not usually your forte but Taehyung’s question was rather surprising, although coming from the peak of his curiosity you expected nothing less, “why is that inquiry living in your head?”

“I wanted to decipher whether I would ever have a chance with you.”

“Perhaps, if it is written in the stars, we could meet back in Hawkshead and during courtship we could attend the balls in each other’ arms.”

“The balls are pretentious and congested with chaotic gestures of desperate daughters. . I want no distraction in my attempt to romance you,” he was a sweet talker, you had noticed, swatting the butterflies in your stomach was useless — you could already feel yourself colliding against him.

“In society we would not be granted the privacy you require. .” you shook your head, “do you want a forced marriage at the cost of your hands accidentally touching mine?”

“Not forced. . My willingness is voluntary.”

“You live inside the fantasy brick walls of your creative mind..”

“Are you saying you would mind?”

“I wouldn’t.”

“Good. Now push over,” He kneeled beside you making your elbows grace each other ever so slightly. You weren’t sure if he did it on purpose or if he even felt what you did but your feet levitated into the stratosphere. His touch even unintentionally swept you right off your feet, “allow me to give you a hand.”

It’s been three days since Tae stumbled upon your rose bushes and sadly it was his last night here in the Levate. He was to cross the barrier early morning and embark on his quest to help you out of here. . if he even remembered.

You really hoped he did but there was no certainty and that very detail would gnaw at your anxiousness until you were given the chance to be face to face with him once again.

“What are you so deep in your head about?” Tae asked from his position on the floor.

“Many things.”

“What? Will you miss me?” He joked.

Yes. You wanted to shout out but you didn’t.

“Not one bit.”

“I don’t believe you,” you were sure there was probably a smug expression plastered on his face but you were too busy glancing out the window to verify, “your days were graced by my charm.”

“So narcissistic,” you heard him gasp, “perhaps you are a descendent of royals after all.”

“It is in my bloodstream.”

An ear-splitting silence fell between the two of you. You realized even just his company sufficed to provide you with warmth and comfort you needed.

“Have you ever tried to count how many stars look over us every night?” The vibrato of his whispered; grave utters bounced right off of the oak walls.

“That would be impossible.” The luminous points invaded the night sky as they did every other night. They were your faithful companions.

“Not at all,” slumber was catching up to him. You could hear it in the stammering, “every night as we lay under the same sky, let’s both count the stars until we finally get to reunite once more.”

“How would we know we are watching them at the same exact time?”

“Just trust your heart.”

“I know it’s selfish. .” you began, “but I wish you could stay for a bit longer.”

Tae did not respond, not vocally anyway. Instead, he turned in the direction of your bed from his place on the floor. His expression was tender, his cheeks were impaled by dimbles.

You would miss his company, and his eyes, and his smile, and the unspoken intimacy you felt dancing between the two of you. You wondered if he felt it as intensely as you did even in such a short time? You wouldn’t dare ask—but your heart was convinced he did, while your head remained on his departure the following morning. No matter how many times he promised, you were aware you would be a granule of sugar in a short three days of his abundant existence, one he would not be able to remember the moment he walked out on the other side.

You wanted to kiss him so badly. His lips were so inviting. . It would be your perfect departure from him.

But there was no use if he would not be able to recall any of it once he crossed over.

“I would stay with you forever,” he murmured.

You opened your eyes abruptly—but he was already fast asleep. Surely, you’d imagined it.

Surely.

“Lord Kim,” a voice sounded through the other side of the door, “are you decent?”

He hummed back groggily and almost immediately his doubled doors were pushed open. The Butler of the Kim estate, Hoseok, invaded his dormitory.

“I told you since I have come back, Hoseok,” he yawned, “you are more than welcome to refer to me as Taehyung.”

“Of course Sir,” he stumbled, “I mean, Taehyung.”

Taehyung sat up on the canopy bed surrounded by fine silk sheets. Ever since he was able to make it home after being missing, life in the Kim estate seemed like so much for just one person. It all did. This bed, his room, his new title as Viscount Kim ever since his father passed away twelve months prior.

Before making it to Hawkshead, Taehyung had gone missing for a period of three entire days, and although his mother had kept this information from him at the time, he managed to obtain the location from where he was found by staff in the manor after his mother passed just nine months ago.

They told him he had been laying down near the northern border of the Levate forest geared towards the entrance of the village.

Back then, he was coming back home to assist his mother with the funerary ceremony for his father—but after losing her as well just a few months after he was shackled to this place as he was officially the new and esteemed, Viscount Kim Taehyung III.

“I just wanted to announce that dinner would be served in about ten minutes, sir.” He did not make it a habit to correct Hoseok on the usage of anything but his name once again. For, he knew his father and ancestors before were rather stern with how they managed life around the home.

He knew his changes would take some getting used to.

“Would you like me to close the drapes, Sir?”

“No, Hoseok, they’re fine. I like to look at the night sky before falling fast asleep.”

“Very well, I’ll see downstairs in ten.” Hoseok walked towards the door and reached for the golden handle before opening it.

“Hoseok,” Taehyung called out, “the files that I requested a few days ago. Have they been fetched yet?”

“Yes sir, they’re bringing up the last of the few boxes and everything should be in the study right after dinner.”

“Thank you so much, Hoseok.”

Hoseok disappeared behind the mahogany door and Taehyung was left alone once again.

Just him and his thoughts.

And somehow they always brought him right back to those three days he couldn’t even precisely remember. The Levate was always known to be desolate; scary and unexplored. Those were the stories his parents always recounted as a warning for him to stay away but he could not help the feeling that there had been someone out there who took care of him.

But who could willingly reside in that creepy forest on the outskirts of the village?

Tae walked over to his bedroom window taking in the sights of the stars swimming amongst the late night sky. In the couple of minutes he stood by he counted hundreds of them. There was a sense of serenity in being able to witness their brightness, there was a bubbling urgency in him in wanting to assign a number to all of them, although it seemed impossible.

He would one day, though, and that was a promise he made to himself.

After scarcely getting through dinner as he did not have too much of an appetite, Taehyung invited Hoseok over to the study in an attempt to get through all of the documents he needed to before dawn.

Under the flickering flames of the candles around the room, Hoseok took the couch with one box while he sat in the leather chair behind your father’s desk with two more. The first few documents detailed finances, work affairs and where your father usually geared towards for business encounters. On the bottom of the first box there was a folder with a black stamp sealed in the top right corner, spelling the word, confidential in all capitals.

He quickly pulled out the folder and scattered the documents out in-front of him. It was a family tree with all of the female descendants circled in red ink for the last two-hundred years. There were two years listed under every single name, one for which they were banished and one for the date indicating they had passed away.

The most recent one showed the latest descent had been banished around six years prior.

Taehyung, flipped through a couple more pages in the document before landing on the agreement between the council, the Kim family and the first ancestor to have been banished.

Apparently, she had attempted to assist in the birth of a Kim ancestor hundreds of years ago who passed during the delivery and instead of public execution, they had sentenced her to banishment in the Levate. Although not stated in the original document they made a new regulation after her passing to imprison all the female descendants on her side of the family as a repercussion to avoid the death of any more babies in the village by the carelessness of their hands.

“This is absurd,” he hissed through gritted teeth, “come here, Hoseok. Did you know about this?”

Hoseok hovered over your shoulder as he began scanning the document, nodding slowly as if he wanted to lie instead but opting against it in the end.

“I found out when it was time for your father to banish the recent descendant six years ago,” he leaned on the dark walls of the room, “but your father wasn’t as understanding as you are. He threatened me and my family in exchange for my secrecy.”

“But he’s been gone for months, Hoseok.” Taehyung reasoned, he was mad that the butler had not brought it up at least once in the past few months, “You’ve had so many opportunities to bring it up to my attention.”

“I did not know many details, Sir,” his lips quivered and Taehyung could see the exasperation glooming over Hoseok, “All I know is the latest descendent was banished and only you have the power to bring it to the council for reconsideration as a Kim.”

Taehyung’s expression softened, “thank you for providing me with the details now. Would you please seek out the council and arrange for a meeting tomorrow afternoon?”

“Of course.”

“This is all for tonight. Please let me know of the meeting time and location come early morning. Good night, Hoseok.”

“Good night.”

The meeting was arranged in the Kim garden early afternoon and while you had discussed some pressing points the council held relating to your parents passing, it was time for you to bring your own concern to their attention.

Most of the original council has now been overtaken by an earlier generation for reasons similar to your own.

“Joon, I presume Hoseok mentioned the reason for the calling of today’s meeting.”

He nodded as he gobbled on yet another tea sandwich, “he provided a brief synopsis.”

Joon was the descendent of the original founder of the council and whatever he said went. He was far less serious and strict than his father was but Tae supposed they all were. None of them were their fathers.

“Why don’t you detail what you want to propose with a bit more clarity, Taehyung?” Yoongi cut-in as he noticed Namjoon was far too indulged in the delicacies table. Yoon was more of the straightforward kind of guy and had fought tirelessly to be kept out of the council but with the passing of his father he had no choice but to step in as the eldest Min son.

“This is regarding the descendants of the Levate. I wanted to propose an official release as the original document was altered after the first healer passed away.” you detailed, “it is not fair to continue the imprisonment of those women in that forest.”

“I agree,” Jimin cut-in. His family was known for being quite liberal and you figured the recorded vote against the sending of that woman to the Levate all of those years ago came from his ancestor.

“That’s 2-5, as I am obviously voting against keeping her there,” Tae said.

“I’m with them seems a bit cruel and unusual,” Seokjin conquered.

“Same.” Yoongi said.

He was the more traditional man of the bunch so it surprised you when Joon seemed to be the bearer of bad news.

“I also agree with your arguments but the only way out of banishment for the healer is marriage to a Kim descendent. It is stated in the original document that you should have read Tae.”

“Don’t ‘Tae’ me if you plan to enforce the rules of our beastly fathers.”

“I plan to do no such thing,” Joon quickly argued, “but we were sworn in to provide transparency to the people of Hawkshead. We are not royalty by any means but as founding families we do not and cannot sit above the mandates of those who came before us, for if we do, how can the people trust in us as the new replacing founders.”

“I’m afraid he’s right, Taehyung,” Seokjin was the voice of reason, “we cannot afford having the village against our judgments and decisions at this time.”

This is not what he originally planned for.

“With all due respect Tae,” Yoongi began, “How about we near the borders of the Levate and summon the descendent. From there we can propose the marriage proposal and see where she stands. If it is not an option for her she will unfortunately have to enter back into the Levate until we can seek a viable way to get her out.”

“It is settled, she does not need to be paying for reparations of an accident that took place years ago. Therefore, all in favor of the marriage proposition to lift banishment say I.” Joon was an honest man, and Taehyung was sure the pressures of being head of the founding council was a heavy-bearing occupation and though this wasn’t the conclusion he was hoping for—it was a start.

A wave of I’s circled around him.

He hesitated but ultimately caved as he saw no other way as of now, “I.”

Approaching the Levate was quite intimidating and it certainly did not help that Yoongi, Jimin, Seokjin and Namjoon had offered to accompany you on the trip to the initiation of a possible loveless marriage.

They stood near the carriage as he walked towards the barrier. The hairs on the back of his neck stood as a wind of familiarity immediately brushed past his face the closer he got.

Taehyung hoped this would not seem odd to you but he was trying his best to get you out of the Levate as soon as possible.

Taehyung saw her figure nearing the border of the green pasture and automatically noticed her smile beaming from ear to ear. She was as radiant as the flowers embedded in the wealthiest of gardens in the village, as dazzling as the sun and her aura was as familiar as the late-night stars he had begun conversing with ever since he made it back home earlier that year.

“Tae, you’re back,” her voice was silky and your name sounded like honey dripping from her lips, “you promised and now you’re back.”

He cleared your throat “I promised?”

“Sorry,” she began, “yes, some months ago you had stumbled into the Levate after being back from a voyage. After falling on my rose garden. I did a miniscule job of pulling out the thorns and you stayed about three days before heading off,” her recount of the events cleared the patches of missing information within your memory.

“Why can’t I remember any of that on my own?”

“The barrier of the Levate erases your memory as soon as you cross over,” her eyebrows were furrowed, “but if you cannot remember how come you are here?”

“My name is Kim Taehyung III, a descendent of the Hawshead founding families. After the recent passing of our fathers the replacement council made it our mission to overturn the cruel mandates set forth by our ancestors.”

“Yes, we discussed that while you were in here,” she said softly, “although, I did not know then that you were the person I needed to speak to.”

“Your case was the first to come to our attention, mine especially, as a Kim descendent. In the unofficial documents by the founders however there is a minor detail standing in the way of your immediate liberation.”

“What is the minor detail?”

“The only way of our banishment for your family is through marriage.” Taehyung said.

Her pupils were blown and her voice quivered, “who would I have to wed?”

“Me. Otherwise you would have to remain in the Levate until the council finds another way to get you out.”

The agreement of marriage came unexpectedly to you but in your time together she had recollections of only pleasant memories plus made you made him promise to drag you along on his explorations when he had to go off on voyages.

You craved to see the world.

Taehyung agreed and after the small wedding ceremony with the founding families bearing as witnesses. The two of you became husband and wife in the local church after your meeting a couple of days prior. Everything was geared on high speed and happened just a few weeks after your meeting with the proposition.

The two of you barely had any time to talk between the legality of documents and the preparations of the hurried marriage.

“Are we all alone?” you asked, flickering on the lights of the family room as you walked in the Kim estate.

“It is the beginning of the honeymoon traditions,” he informed, “the house is left vacant for the husband and wives and the next couple of days we get to ourselves before embarking on a voyage to visit extended family.”

“Is my family still around in Hawkshead?” you asked to take a seat on the couch, he followed sitting across from you.

“They live a boat ride over now but not far. They were granted leave by my father as the remaining siblings seemed to be brothers who were born just a couple of years ago.”

“I have brothers?”

“Twin brothers,” he confirmed, “we can go see them tomorrow if you would like.”

“Can we go later on in the week?”

“We shall go right before heading off to see mine early next week. How does that sound?”

“That sounds fine.”

He scratched the back of his head, “I forgot to thank you for your care back in the Levate. I am sorry I cannot remember anything about our time together.”

She shook her head, “it is not your fault my Lord. I was just happy I could assist, plus you made those three days the best of my time in the Levate.”

“You can just call me Taehyung if you would like.”

“Taehyung.” she repeated, “so it is true that the replacing founders are trying to implement structures of change to Hawkshead. They seem to be less austere and puritanical than their ancestors.”

He flashed a boxy smile in your direction, the one you missed so much over the past year, “I heard they are trying their hardest.”

“I am glad their compassion now graces the land,” you complimented, watching as his cheeks turned as red as the roses he had stumbled upon in your garden, “thank you Taehyung, for keeping your promise of getting me out of there.”

“No need to thank me. Unfortunately, my descendants were at fault for this entire ordeal. It is the least I could do.”

You gazed at the way his cherry lips were moisturized by his tongue. Perhaps, a nervous tic you had not quite picked up back in the Levate. Was he nervous? Replaying, the rather chaste kiss he left on your lips back at the altar and his clammy palms holding yours you deduced he was in fact nervous.

All you could ever think of however was his body heat in your proximity.

“It will forever be engraved in my heart that even after losing your memories of me after crossing the barrier, you still cared enough to get a stranger out of that situation,” you placed your hand on top of his.

“It was my basic duty after everything inflicted on your family all these years,” you noticed the change in his tone as he breathed out ruggedly, “please do not assume you owe me anything because of this. You do not.”

“I know you are a perfect gentleman, Taehyung but my heart beat for you the moment we met back in the Levate. What I feel is not forced or payment for your heroic antics,” his eyes remained on his lap and he seemed to be averting eye contact at all costs, “but that doesn’t mean you are forced to reciprocate something you cannot remember.”

“I cannot remember it,” he spoke barely above a whisper, “but I can feel the way my heart races when you come in my proximity. I felt it during our meeting. I feel it even now.”

The heat rose rapidly as you felt the way his eyes began mapping out your figure sprawled out on the couch. You figured it was a bit onerous though, as the wedding dress gifted to you wasn’t too flattering on your body. You made short strides towards him and stood in between his thighs, after unzipping the fabric you saw as it pooled at your feet exposing your inner-wear.

His carnal desires were reflective on the way his eyes scorched to a deep umber and his lower lip was blanketed under his teeth.

“Can I take you up to my suite?” The question sounded in your ears like a song being played delicately on the keys of pianos.

“Take me to your suite.”

Taehyung carried you bridal style sharing plenty of laughs at the countless trips and stumbles as he trotted up the stairs with you in his arms. You both finally made it to his massive sleeping chamber—it seemed a bit crazy how you were shoved into a tiny pocket of the Levate while Taehyung slept this lavishly every night.

You didn’t hold it against him but it was ironic how your worlds were destined to be so different and somehow clashed.

“Your house is so grand,” your eyes wandered through the different shades of blues adorning his room, “and to think you wanted to stay with me in the forest.”

“What?” he scoffed, “you do not see me as someone who can forage off the land?”

“You are far from the term, Kim Taehyung.”

“Assumptions are not facts,” he laid beside you on the bed and suddenly you were taken back to that morning in the Levate when he uttered those exact words.

“You have said those exact words to me before, you know.”

“My wisdom transcends the erasure of memories from a magical forest. You didn’t know?”

You giggled landing a soft punch on his elbow. “It seems I was not aware.”

“Now you are,” the tips of his fingers felt like waves of static shocks against your skin. He traced the outline of your chin, the nape of your neck, and collarbone before stopping where your cleavage began.

Your eyes were shut tightly as his cold touch continued exploring your searing body.

“Darling, are you sure you want to do this?”

“Taehyung, you have been the muse of my wildest dreams and the root of my deepest desires for the year following your leave,” you caressed his delicate cheeks with the back of your thumbs. He melted right into your touch, “I have longed for you and now I am finally here with you.”

“You waited for me?”

“Well realistically speaking,” you shrugged, “I had nowhere to go. My only option was to wait.”

He winked, “I will remember it my way.”

As a substitute to the small talk the both of you had engaged in to relieve some of the tension clinging to the air, you found yourselves leaning into each other at a leaden speed until finally your lips crashed into one another. His tender lips tasted of strawberries exactly as you imagined.

And the way his lips moved against yours was agonizingly mellow - and made you feel faint.

Who would have guessed being free could ever taste so sweet. . so fucking sweet.

The two of you were bare, crashing back into the ocean of his silk sheets. His wandering touch landed on your breast, while his kisses continued sweeping you off your feet. . his fingers focused on your nipple as he began rolling, pinching, and rubbing the sensitive bud.

“Taehyung. .” you breathed out.

“I’m just getting started,”

His pillowy lips trailed down your stomach leaving icy wet kisses on your skin leading you to succumb to the delicacy of his care. Your paradise you quickly realized was at the mercy of Taehyung’s ministrations.

The way he pecked your body so sweetly was intoxicating.

Just when you believed he reached his destination, he continued to travel lower and lower positioning himself between your thighs.

“Taehyung?” your eyes met his as he hovered over your arousal.

“Do you trust me darling?”

He propped your legs up on his shoulders. A yelp escaped your lips as your pussy was now placed right in front of his face.

Your heart began pounding against your chest blaringly - it became so potent you could almost hear its rhythmic beat against the shell of your ear.

“I trust you.”

The feeling was electrifying and beat through you like a bolt of lightning igniting a warm feeling in the pit of your stomach. His effects on you were lost in the darkness invading your surroundings; still he devoured you as if you were the last meal he’s been presented with.

His tongue licked and sucked your clit. Your breath hitched and all your voice could manage were incoherent babbles accompanied by the chanting of his name.

“Y-you are so good Taehyung.”

He hummed against your folds.

“So good, Taehyung.” You repeated, lacing your finger into his dark strands.

There were spurs of white light behind your eyelids as you became enthralled in the way he continued to move against you. The pleasure was addicting and you were afraid your longing wish was to have Taehyung on his knees every hour of every day and at every given moment.

“Please do not stop,” He continued, “please.”

There were successions of shooting stars ornamenting the heavens and finally you reached the breath-taking place where the earth and the sky meet.

Your heaven.

“You were so good darling,” he paused, “you took my breath away.”

His voice is now deeper than you remembered. A train of moonlight invaded his dormitory. Taehyung looked as stunning as ever, his hair is a disheveled mess, his lips adopted a deeper hue of scarlet while his features were inundated with his sweat.

“Ready?” He asked.

“Yes.”

The feeling was foreign and dissimilar to the feeling you had experienced hen his mouth ate you out, you felt full with him inside of you and although initially there was pain, the more you grew accustomed to it the more pleasure you felt.

His hips moved slowly in and out of you.

Your whimpers mixed with his groans was all that could be heard through the house.

Still, his agonizing pace remained, while his finger landed back on your clit as he traced the number eight repeatedly.

There was no falter in his movements, continued, and continued and continued once again.

Those shooting stars from before burst into beautiful displays of fireworks and for the second time that night you reached your high.

When Taehyung pulled out of you he was still hard, “I am going to head to the bathroom.”

You cut-in, “can I help?”

“Oh,” he moaned, “can you?”

“I want to.”

He sat at the foot of the mattress and patted the spot next to him for you to sit—you did.

“Use your hand. Is that ok with you darling?”

“Yes, can you guide me?”

“Of course.”

The tip of his cock disappeared behind your grasp while his balmy palms covered yours. He guided you down to the base and back up to the tip—the motion he set was swift and you could only ogle as Taehyung masterbated using your hand for release.

The thought made you wet all over again.

He whimpered, “I’m so close.”

His hand remained on top of yours but his motions were no longer leading, he was too engrossed in his own pleasure. You hastened the speed, now determined to help him feel as good as he made you feel.

His whispered moans only motivated your movements until finally his come covered your hand.

After disappearing for a couple of seconds Taehyung walked back from the wash room with a towel in hand, “sorry I didn’t warn you about this,” he wiped you all clean.

“I liked it,” you murmured, “I would like for you to teach me many more things.”

“We have a whole eternity for that darling.”

“Eternity. . That sounds nice.”

author’s note: this feels a but rushed in certain parts and I apologize for that but this story is been something that has taken way too long and I was truly just looking to put it out — hopefully it’s enjoyable though.

thanks for reading. comments, likes, reblogs and messages are always appreciated. let me know what you think <3

#bts #bangtan sonyeondan #kim taehyung #bts v #taehyung smut #bts v smut #bts smut #bts imagines #bts reactions #taehyung x y/n #taehyung x you #taehyung x reader #bts v x reader #taehyung

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icallhimjoey · 1 year

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She’s everything I aspire to be, confident in her own skin, a ray of sunshine a bit awkward who isn’t intimidated by people’s opinions. I was just like her, but most of my peers didn’t like me. I was a messy bundle of cheerfulness, my laugh loud and ungraceful. I wasn’t cool because I loved too much, with an intensity that people struggled to understand. I really appreciate the fact that you managed to go from an almost introspective story, full of the uncertainties and perplexities of our main characters to a very cute and flirty banter that is absolutely amazing. This is what I needed, I’m so happy that is making me feel all warm and fuzzy, it’s adorable ♡‧₊˚

i love her, need her in my life, make ME blush and shit. Wordcount: 2.6K

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Sunshine Blend Dark Roast

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

The first day Joe didn't show up after having done so for eight consecutive days, you didn't even notice until your coworker asked what name he used that day.

"Oh, he hasn't been in today," you said as your coworker rinsed out blenders and you wiped down counters.

"Then he's just Joe today," he said, and you grinned. Yea, Joe could be just Joe today. A comforting thought, although, you were bad at lying to yourself and acknowledged the small tinge of sadness. You really would've liked to make him scratch his face all nervously. Oh well, there's always tomorrow, you thought.

Except Joe didn't come in the next day. Or the next one. You weren't stupid. Joe had work things. Film things. Press things. You had no idea what being an actor entailed, but you could imagine Joe didn't have a set schedule that left wiggle room to get a coffee every day. And there were other customers to annoy, to get smiles and chuckles from. To sing at, to joke with, to ridicule just slightly, never enough to offend, never enough to not be able to fix things with a giggle, but always just enough to surprise them. Find that weird border to dance on. It was always so much fun to play.

But none of them were quite as fun to play with as Joe was.

Yes, other people would blush.

Yes, other people would awkwardly chuckle.

Yes, other people would stumble over their words. Would raise surprised brows when you asked them if they were sure they made the right choice. Would try to look away and pretend they weren't tickled at your attempt at a tap dance as you made iced drinks, rinsed out blenders, and scooped ice into large plastic cups.

They would all do all of those things.

But none of them made your stomach flutter like Joe did. And none of them made your chest swell like Joe did. And none of them got your throat to strain with back-held giggles like Joe did.

You didn't know if Joe was aware of the effect he had on you, so you made a mental note to tell him the next time you saw him. See if that would turn his ears red, too.

You just hadn't expected that the next time you'd see Joe, it wouldn't be in the coffee shop.

The next time you saw Joe, a couple more days had passed and you were on your way home after your shift, late afternoon on a Wednesday. You were on your phone, reading texts you'd missed throughout the day when you spotted him in your peripheral vision. You hadn't even been able to focus on much else but your phone and your blurred feet taking steps below it, but you somehow saw him and unconsciously glanced his way. Then did a double take. Yep, it was him. Joe. Staring right back at you. Frozen. In shock, a little, maybe?

Joe was sat in the window of a Starbucks.

A fucking Starbucks.

White paper cup in hand that you eyes immediately checked and it read Patrick.

Patrick.

Starbucks didn't know how to play. Idiots.

You halted, stopped right in the middle of the pavement, and had people bump into you from the abrupt standstill. They apologised grumpily, you apologised with a giggle, it was all fine. Then, you pointed an accusing finger at Joe and you tried to hide your smile. You saw Joe was still sat frozen, big eyes aimed at you. No way around those. He'd definitely seen you. But you pointed at him and then you got no reaction.

You let your eyes find the door, looked back at Joe, then back at the door, then back at Joe again to see he was also looking at the door, and you thought, fuck it, let's go. You saw how Joe followed you with his eyes and how panic rapidly built. Oh, fun. This was going to be fun.

"I can't believe it, Patrick," Loud. Right in the middle of the doorway, not even fully inside, you were immediately attention demanding. You didn't care. You'd be out of there in a second and would likely never see any of the other people in there.

"H-hi," was all Joe managed to stammer, and behind him, sat next to him in the window, someone stopped talking and leant back to see what was going on.

"Mingling with the enemy, are we?" you gestured into the store wildly. Windmill arms, almost.

Joe said nothing.

"If that's anything other than a large, oh wait, sorry, a venti americano, you've got some serious explaining to do," you smirked, let your eyes crinkle and waited for a reaction.

You got one. Finally. Non-verbal, though. You got stutters, and fingers fidgeting with rings, and nervous eye-contact with his friend and, oh my God!

That was Jamie Campbell Bower. Jamie Campbell fucking Bower, drinking a Matcha Crème Frappuccino. You let your shock from seeing Jamie Campbell Bower's face travel to his drink, your big eyes aimed at what he was holding now, instead of his face.

"That's a Matcha Crème Frappuccino."

It was bright green, not hard to guess. You knew your shit.

He laughed. "Yes, it is."

And like you'd known Joe your whole life, you reached out, grabbed Joe's forearm, wrapped strong fingers around and squeezed as tightly as you could. Used your hand that was still holding your phone to twist his cup until you could read its contents, said, "I fucking knew it." way too close to his face as you stood on your tippy toes.

A grande - not venti, Joe wasn't insane - caffè americano.

You felt Joe's tensed arm, but saw his shoulders relax as he let out a breath he'd been holding in a laugh. Joe saw your phone. You were holding your phone. Had it ready. Out. You weren't working now, and had walked up to him with your phone ready and out.

You were a girl.

You'd walked up to him.

With your phone ready.

And out.

Of course.

"Do you want a picture?" Joe's arm moved, and it made you lessen your grip on him. You blinked in confusion for a second, but Joe's arm was quick to find your back and a large palm placed itself on one of your shoulder blades.

Joe was lining himself up for a selfie with you.

A misstep. A grand one that was going to make him stumble when he'd realise. Like he hadn’t seen the last step when walking down a long winding staircase, and it'd make him run, big steps, in a bid to save himself from letting his knees scrape the floor.

"Ew, gross," you muttered, grimaced as you stepped aside, back towards the glass door, bumping into yet another person as you recklessly weren't paying any attention to your surroundings.

"Boring, and gross," you said softly before you nodded at the two men staring at you.

Everything about this interaction had been confusing to you, let alone to Joe, let alone to Jamie. It held so much potential to have been a quick little fun chat, but it left you with a bad taste in your mouth.

"You better take him with you next time," you pointed at Jamie, made big eyes at Joe who looked at you like you were speaking a different language, arm still hovering in place where it had been on your back second ago. "Patrick."

And out you went.

You knew then that, if you hadn't scared him off entirely before all of that, you certainly had scared him off now. There wasn't going to be a next time. You just knew it.

These weren't new feelings. These feelings didn't fester, didn't take you in a chokehold. They were familiar pains that no longer felt sharp, were more of a dull ache instead, easy to shove aside, because you'd been shoving them aside since childhood. You were an expert now, and you knew to let yourself feel it for a minute, and then you'd carry on. Never dwelled too long, because, who did that help?

What a way to make you dislike him. Did Joe honestly think that you were just after a picture with him? You shuddered. Gross. So gross.

But Joe didn't understand.

Had he ever understood anything about his interactions with you? He thought he was starting to get it. Starting to be able to predict you a little bit. Recognise what type of songs you would dance a little too. He could be waiting for his coffee, hear a beat, and know if he'd look up, he'd see you bounce. And he'd be right, too. He could see a girl walk in with large earrings, and he'd just know that you were going to mention them. Compliment. And then you would, "Look at them hoops, girlie! What can I get you?"

And then, you'd walked up to him with your phone out and confirmed everything that had been whispered to him from the dark corner of his mind. A photo. Of course you wanted to get a photo with him. Because, why wouldn't you? Didn't they all want a photo? He thought he was starting to get it.

But then you said, ew gross, to his face after he offered - he offered - and Joe wished the floor would've opened up beneath him. He wished to fall into black nothingness. He could just exist in that void for eternity, no problem.

Joe cringed.

Outwardly.

Where everyone could see.

"What the fuck was that?" Jamie asked, but couldn't help his face-splitting grin.

"I... I don't..." Joe saw Jamie's face. "Oh, fuck off," Joe winced, able to awkwardly chuckle at himself outwardly, but inwardly, died a little.

Joe didn't come in the next day. You knew he wouldn't, and you'd only given yourself a second to think about him, be a little disappointed, aw, woe is me, before you forced yourself to get over it. Let it go. There were other people that needed serving, and they were fun to play with too. You could make it fun, like you had made it fun for so many days before Joe had stepped foot into the coffee shop.

But then the next day, you'd seen him outside, on the other side of the street. You saw him, and he was with Jamie, and they were walking towards the shop. You saw them, grey and black coats billowing behind them as they walked, looking down at their feet, Jamie talking, Joe listening. You used both hands to hastily push your hair back from your forehead, slapping yourself in the face as you did, then clasped onto your coworker and said, "Suck in your stomach, Joe's coming," and made him laugh.

They walked in, and Joe looked up at the menu whilst Jamie made direct eye contact immediately, raised eyebrows, friendly face, ready to politely greet.

"Please, get a stupid latte," No good mornings. No hellos. You pleaded, hands clasped in front of your chest, eyebrows knitted, eyes as questioningly cute as you could manage them.

Jamie laughed, shrugged, said, "Sure," and communicated with his whole body that this was bizarre, but he was absolutely going to go with it.

You clapped your hands together excitedly, bent at the knees as if you were going to jump, but then didn't, because you weren't six years old. If you had been? That's what you would've done.

"We've got a bunch to choose from," you gestured at the menu behind you, let Jamie's eyes roam and then looked at Joe.

"Hi," he smiled.

You'd called him gross and boring to his face, made him uncomfortable in a public place, and he had come back. Brought Jamie with him. Said hi. Smiled.

What an idiot.

"Oh, can I get the Maple Matcha Green Tea Latte?"

"Yes, perfect. So fun. Not at all boring."

You asked for his name, wrote down Johanna because you were an annoying bitch and had had a weird Sweeney Todd phase years ago, and then turned to Joe.

"A large Am-"

"Americano. God." you interrupted and finished for him, like you despised it. Squeezed your eyes shut like it was the worst news Joe could've possibly given you. It wasn't, but it was a bit you were committed to, and it was fun to play with Joe. "Yes. Of course," you rolled your eyes, asked for Joe's name - Tim, today - wrote down Joe and then didn't let him pay.

"This one's on the house."

Joe frowned. Was about to sputter some polite rejections to a free drink, but you held a hand up. Joe was going to get this coffee free of charge.

You switched places with your coworker. Standard practice now. You always made Joe's drinks. But today, you got to make Jamie's too. Maple Matcha Green Tea Latte. A latte. This meant you got to do latte art. Latte art for Jamie.

"Look," you said, letting Jamie see inside before you were going to place the lid on.

"That's..." Jamie let his jaw drop a little.

"It's a penis!" you said it so proudly, it left no room for anything but acceptance of what he was staring at.

"That's a penis." he confirmed, and you saw Joe close his eyes as he shook with silent laughter next to him.

You placed the lid on, smiled at Jamie and before handing it over, you shouted, "A penis maple matcha green tea latte for Johanna," as if Jamie wasn't stood right by the counter, making direct eye contact with you.

At the mention of Johanna, he raised a curious eyebrow.

"I feel you, Johanna," you sang, and it was enough to make Joe burst out into giggles. Jamie soon followed, side eyed his friend for laughing at him, and then took his drink from you.

"Thanks, I love it."

Joe came in the next day by himself. Jude. You wrote down Joe. Didn't let him pay.

The next morning he walked in too. Jacob. You wrote down Joe. Didn't let him pay.

This kept going for a while.

You kept making Joe large americano's and kept not letting him pay for a single one. It was a new way to make Joe blush. Make him smile bashfully. Make him say thank you through squinty eyes. And if Joe thought that you weren't going to get straight back into trying your best to see his ears turn bright red, he was wrong.

You would compliment his outfits, said they were horribly mismatched, which offended him a little, but then said that he'd look good in fucking anything.

You would try to make him sing again, several times, and you upped volume each time. Upped the ridiculousness of the songs each time. Played fucking Johanna once, just to see his grin.

And Joe kept coming in.

And you kept not letting him pay.

Your colleague had made a comment about it. You told him to not interfere. Mind his business. This was a game you and Joe played, and you were winning. You played games to win, and you were winning.

You were giving Joe free drinks and in return you got so much more. Soft giggles, blushing cheeks, red ears, clumsy fumbly fingers, slow scruff scratches, bashful smiles, shy eye fluttering, stuttered words and wild butterflies in your stomach.

Until one morning, Joe stepped inside and was greeted by two people behind the counter, neither of whom were you.

You weren't there.

The music was set to a sensible volume. The shop was busy, but quiet. Calm. Odd. Joe'd never seen the place like this. Total different vibes in there now.

"Hi," Joe said to your coworker, the one he recognised, when it was his turn.

"Large americano?" he asked Joe, blank faced. Looked a little... bored.

"Yes, please. Is um... is she not in, today?" Joe asked carefully, and fished for his wallet in his coat pocket.

"No, shift switch. Helped him out," your colleague nodded at the other guy behind him.

"Great," Joe said, "Because I've got about 47 coffees I still need to pay for. Ring me up."

Joe didn't mind you playing weird games with him, even if he didn't understand, but Joe could play too, and Joe played games not to lose.

---

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#joe quinn #joseph quinn #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn x reader #joe quinn x you #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x y/n #joe quinn x y/n #joe quinn fanfic #joseph quinn fanfic #sunshine blend dark roast #fanfiction #fluff #requested #rpf #part 3

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