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#again i am as usual back on my bullshit i just needed to take a weekend break from fic writing
tunastime · 2 years
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If you would be so kind scarian 17 for the writing prompts
17. you’re distracting / you promised (x) (843 words)
“Grian.”
Scar looked over at him. The wind blew his hair into his eyes so that he had to push it back and man, was that a sight for sore eyes. Something about the tycoon suit fit him so well (besides it being well fitted) that it was a bit hard not to stare. They sat on Scar’s balcony, legs kicked over the side, sitting in autumn sun. Grian had to help Scar sit. He didn’t mind.
“Hm?” Grian cocked his head. He furrowed his eyebrows. Scar looked away as if the sun got a little bright and he shifted, not away and not closer to Grian, just shifting. He had a frown between his eyes, just barely visible from this angle, an angle Grian found himself in quite frequently, staring at the side of Scar’s face and wishing he’d look over just a tad more. Scar said:
“Remember back the first time we did the death game, and you got me killed?” he laughed, and if something soft hadn’t made a homestead with a windmill and a farm in Grian’s chest it certainly had then. Was it silly to describe someone’s laugh as soul-mending? 
Scar continued. “And then you promised me that you’d be with me until you lost your first life, and then stayed even after that?”
Grian wasn’t sure where Scar was going with this. Not that he often did.
“Mhm...?” he hummed.
“Did...” Scar’s eyes flicked over. The frown was still there. “Hm...”
Grian’s hands, splayed out behind him, shifted. He moved back on them, like he were stepping foot to foot to throw off the nervous shudder up his spine.
“Did what?” he asked, voice twinged at the lip with concern. “What’s up, Scar?”
Scar shook his head, as if he’d decided this was some awful thing to say that didn’t taste good to him and he couldn’t make it happen. Some part of Grian maybe knew the words he wanted to say but he wouldn’t ever force Scar to say them, especially if he thought Grian may lie to him (which he wanted to say he couldn’t, but he could. He could lie to him for his safety. Because it was easier to swallow. To protect him from some great evil. Otherwise, maybe he couldn’t. It had never gone beyond protecting him or pulling jokes. He didn’t know if he could lie to him maliciously. He hoped to never find out.)
“Nothing,” Scar swallowed. Grian watched his throat. “I was just wondering something, but it’s kind of lame.”
“It’s—” Grian scoffed. That’s crazy. He waved his hands, dismissive and careless. “It’s not lame, whatever it is, just spit it out.”
Scar’s eyes were back on him, out of the corner. He saw the green before the pupil. He watched the curve of his mouth when he spoke.
“Did you love me in the desert?”
Grian scoffed again, not malice, disbelief. The words say of course, even if he doesn’t speak them.
“Did I?” he said. “You mean—” Then the words got thick. He realized what the sentence ended with and his brain caught up just in time, so he stopped, still do a gritty, peanut-buttery texture on the roof of his mouth. He couldn’t swallow.
“Do I mean what?” Scar said, just out of a whisper. He turned to him, all at once, then, those green eyes bright and big enough to drown in. “Grian—”
Grian met those eyes, clutched to a life preserver in them, letting the paste of the words thin in mouth.
"Do you mean do I?” he said. Grian spoke hesitantly. He held Grian’s gaze. “Do I still love you?”
“Not necessarily...” Scar supplied. Grian breathed, feeling it through his teeth.
“Did you love me in the desert?”
“I...” Something registered, then, and Scar understood, maybe, that scope of the question. The lingering still. He let go of Grian’s gaze, turned it to his hands, and finished: “I still do.”
I loved you in the desert. I did. I still do. That’s what Grian had wanted to say, in the beginning. But it was lost in a half sentence, and Scar was looking away from him, and he couldn’t say the words I love you without it sounding more like pity (right now), so instead he said:
"Damn it, Scar—”
And he took his face between his hands and pulled him in to him and mashed their lips together unceremoniously and clumsily with teeth knocking teeth by accident and Scar did it too. Just like in the desert. In the sun and in the heat.
 Grian kissed him on the porch, face warm and head full of all the soft things he wanted to give him. Starting with his heart, his hands, his arms, the other side of his bed. Breakfast, promises, lingering looks. Soft because this world handled soft well enough to allow it. Soft because it wasn’t something Grian was good at, and Scar was a good teacher. Soft because, well, why not? Scar deserved it.
He loved him. He still does.
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 2 months
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader
Part 5 of Truth or Dare Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader
Summary: Things are getting complicated, truths are being revealed, and a decisions are going to have to be made regarding the future. So much hangs in the balance and emotions are high as reality makes this about no more games.
Word Count: 9.8 k
Warnings: light mentions of smut (nothing explicit), pining, mutual pining, heavy angst, forcing a decision
Captain Price bristles at the private’s words, taken aback by this impromptu revelation, but he hides it all behind his usual stone cold stare. A gruff exhale exits his lips as he runs his fingertips over the perimeter of his mustache. “Don’t care ‘bout what happens on off hours,” he says full of contempt at being dragged into this bullshit. “It’s none of my business and it’s none of yours either, so best just drop it private.”
This isn’t how it’s supposed to go; the captain is supposed to march over to the lieutenant’s quarters and break up your little lovefest right this second at hearing his confession. At least that was what the private was hoping for when he decided to make this visit. He needs something more. 
“But sir,” he says more exasperatedly, “it isn’t just after hours. The first time I caught them, the lieutenant and sergeant were going at it in the munitions depot when I walked in; you remember that day you sent me to fetch Lt. Riley. They’ve even been engaging in activities in the field as well. During our mission they neglected their watch duties to screw around like some fucking teenagers. Is that what you call acceptable, sir? Is this how you run your operations?”
Goddammit, now it is Price’s problem. Messing around when off duty or on leave is one thing that can be easily overlooked as you are both adults who are engaging in activities with consent, but risking it all when out in the field is another matter altogether. There are protocols and you are supposed to be professionals. And if this bit of information gets out it could have dire consequences for the validity of this task force. 
“Maybe I should bring my concerns up to someone higher,” the private mutters in the silence that follows as Price mulls over everything in his mind. 
“What did ya say?” the captain fires back as he rejoins the conversation, his firm glare boring holes into the private.
Immediately the young man regrets having uttered it aloud, but there’s no going back now. “I just… I-if I need to, I-I will have to go above you, sir,” he stammers out as he tries to maintain his resolve.
Fuck, this is bad.
Price sits forward in his seat, his eyes never leaving the private even though he tries to divert his gaze; each time he brings it back Price is ready to meet it head on. “You will leave this be private,” Price threatens, his voice firm. “This is not under your jurisdiction, nor is it in your ability to decide who needs discipline in these matters. I will take care of it as I see fit; I am the one in charge, not you. Do you understand?”
“Sir, I should at least get to know that you are going to do…” the private tries to argue some more, but the captain is having none of it.
“You’re dismissed,” Price barks as he points a steady hand towards the door.
“But sir…” he tries to protest again and again he is cut off. 
“I said, dismissed private, or would you rather I start my disciplining with you,” Price says unyieldingly, staring him down with a glare that means he is seriously done with this conversation and with being disrespected. 
Quickly the private gets up from his seat with a furrow-browed nod and a rushed, pointed ‘yes, sir,’ that he mutters through his gritted teeth before he turns on his heels and stalks to the door to fling it open and stomp off into the night, leaving Price alone in his office once more as he slams it behind him. 
With the immediate quiet that follows, all Price can think about is what the private has revealed to him. To have the highly trained professional that is Simon Riley abandon everything to mess around with anyone during a mission is unheard of, but it being you makes this even more complicated. This is territory he has no prior knowledge on; something big must be happening for everything to be turned on its head and he doesn’t know what the fuck he is going to do about it all.
Though he knows he cannot just let this go. At least he has the weekend to think it all over, but he knows come Monday he is going to have to act or risk too much because that private is not going to let this go, that much is clear.
The captain decides that that is enough for the night and packs it up to head out. As he leaves out and turns to get back to his own quarters, his eyes linger over to where a specific officer is housed. “What the fuck have ya done Simon?” Price questions aloud to himself as he steps off into the darkness with much weighing on his mind, pondering the next steps of what actions must now be taken.
Back in the lieutenant’s room, hours pass in the blissfully exhaustive ecstasy produced from your union. Both of you slumber on peacefully, wrapped in one another, entirely unaware of anything outside the confines of the mattress until something unfamiliar makes Simon stir awake.
Intaking a full, deep breath, he fills his lungs with a flood of air as he comes back into consciousness, his eyes fluttering open in a mild panic from movement at his side. It takes him a moment to realize that it is you rolling back over to face him that has caught him off-guard; he forgot that you would still be in his bed. Mystery solved, he calmly settles back down into his pillow and watches the slow rise and fall of your chest, admiring how tranquil you look as your dark eyelashes rest delicately against your cheeks.
It’s been a long, long time since he’s slept beside anyone; he’d almost forgotten how comforting it can be to have another laying beside you. A weak smile spreads across his lips as careful fingers reach over to the side of your head so that he can tenderly tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.
God, you’re beautiful just like this. How did he get so god damn lucky to have something so pure sleeping soundly next to him? You let out a whispered sigh and suddenly he is caught up in a whirlwind of feelings that have been in hibernation for years as his fingertips linger delicately against the soft flesh of your cheek a moment more. He wishes he could kick himself for not trying to get closer to you sooner, if only to have you here lying next to him as if it has always been this way.  
Those copper eyes drift to the plain black and white standard government issue clock tacked to the wall. It’s nearly five in the morning; still too early to be conscious just yet, but once he’s up there’s no going back down. He takes a few more minutes to silently appreciate your sleeping form by capturing the image of you like a polaroid in his mind and then decides to just let you sleep until the last minute before he wakes you up to send you safely on your way.
Who said you needed to rush off anyway? 
As carefully as all 6’4” of him can, he eases his way out of the bed and creeps bare-arsed to the en suite bathroom so that he can grab a quick shower, though he’d like nothing more than to keep the scent of you on him a little longer. It won’t do him any favors to go around base today with the fragrance of sex covering him like a beacon to draw people’s unwanted attention.
Cautiously he eases the bathroom door to where it is slightly ajar, not risking shutting it since he knows how bad the damned thing squeaks, and only then does he flick on the fluorescent lights to illuminate the space. Blinking to adjust his eyes to the harsh brilliance, he opens them and immediately catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror that faces the door.   
Even though he still carries the signs of sleep in his distinct features, he can already tell that he is different somehow and he walks closer to his reflection to get a better look. Everything is exactly where it should be, but his eyes seem brighter, more full of life… as if he is happier than he has been in recent memory. He stares back into them as if he is looking at a different person, a reunion with an old friend he hasn’t seen in a long time.  
And he doesn’t know what to think. It is a gift from you, after all…though you don’t even know you’ve given it to him yet.
Simon shakes his head and chuckles to himself, not fully ready to accept this drastic change to his appearance just yet, as he pulls from the mirror and walks the few steps to the shower to get it going. The pipes running to the showerhead squeak to life as run for a few seconds when without warning he feels a pair of arms wrap around his waist from behind as a warm, naked chest presses into his back. It momentarily takes him by surprise as he is still getting used to having someone around, but he eventually settles into your embrace. 
“Was tryin’ not to wake ya yet,” he mutters as he runs his hand over yours that is against his stomach.
“Heard the shower kick on,” you murmur sleepily into his shoulder as you place your lips to the smooth skin near his shoulder blade, “thought I could do with getting clean myself, so I wanted to join you.”
It isn’t a total lie, you do need to wash up after the mess from the night before, though you wish you could be honest and say that you just wanted to be close while you still can. You know you are going to have to leave soon if you want to make it back to your quarters without detection, but it doesn’t stop the feeling of disappointment that looms like a gray cloud at the back of your mind that you will have to part ways. 
Simon holds your palms pressed rigid and flat against his abdominals so you can’t let go as he leans in to check the temperature of the water with his free hand. The heated liquid rains down onto his palm perfectly warm, but not too hot, and being satisfied he pulls you both inside the cozy oasis. 
He moves you in front of him so that your back is directly under the shower head, letting the heated water run through the length of your hair and down the curves of your bare back to keep you warm. It feels like you’re still in a dream the way the steam rises around your bodies in the tight space, the condensation clinging to your skin like a warm blanket. Maybe you are still asleep in his bed, you feel barely awake as it is, and if that’s the case you hope you don’t wake up cause you don’t want to leave the fantasy just yet. 
The soothing water lulls you into a drowsy calm as Simon holds you close against him while he naturally rocks you both back and forth with slow, easy movements as he gently tries to help you wake up. He cannot help admiring the flush in your face brought on by the heat or the way the droplets trickle over your soft, delicate skin. Reaching out, his hand connects with your cheek as he strokes his coarse thumb over your jaw and up to the corner of your mouth before dragging it heavily over your bottom lip until he has them parted. 
“I swear you’re a fuckin’ dream, pretty girl,” he whispers as his hand on your face brings it in towards his so that he can gently connects your lips. 
Memories of confessions from the night before spring back to the surface, admissions of possession that he doesn’t want to take back even though that mind-numbing haze from being inside you is gone. You can hear him sigh heavily as he breaks the kiss to rest his forehead against yours.
If only he could wake up like this every day. Could that even be a possibility for someone like him? Inside the steam-filled oasis that cloaks you both from reality, he allows himself to fantasize just a little. Maybe…maybe…
Simon lets you go only to grab the soap from its place sitting on the edge of the tub, ready to clean up the mess he made. Taking care of someone other than himself is an oddly comforting sensation to him and even though you try to protest that he doesn’t have to, he still takes the time to wash you down anyway before tending to himself. 
He leaves you inside the shower to finish up as he steps out into the bathroom, wrapping a towel securely around his hips, making sure to leave a towel for you as well before he heads to the mirror. His rigorous actions between your legs last night left a rather rough patch against your thigh that he caught sight of in the shower and checking his face in the foggy bit of glass above the sink, Simon decides it’s about time to shave.
…cause he is definitely going to get between those legs again soon. 
A bag of random toiletries lies at the edge of the sink and he rummages around in it until he locates his razor. He steps up to the counter and turns on the sink just as the creak from the shower handle rings out and the water is shut off. From the mirror he can see you step out and wrap the towel he’s set out for you around your chest. 
You ring out your hair behind you before you move to his side and turn to rest your butt against the edge of the countertop. Looking down, you spy the shaving instrument in his hand.
“Gettin’ rid of it?” you ask with a hint of disappointment as you reach up and run your fingertips over his jaw. The steam from the shower has already softened the hairs so they don’t prickle roughly against your touch as you outline his face.
Suddenly he can’t find his voice; every single time you touch him it’s like the first time all over again and it makes his head spin. Clearing his throat he looks down at you. “It’s a bit too rough, innit?” he says, tapping at your thigh with the abrasion on it. “Don’t wanna hurt ya again.”
Why did it sound more deep a sentiment than it should have been? A lump wells in your throat as you realize he is doing this for you and you alone; it’s just a shave, but to have him care about your wellbeing is very special to you. Especially after the confessions from the night before; clearly he has meant it: you belong to him now.
“Well, if you must…but, I wonder. Can I?” you ask with a smile as you reach for the blade in his hand.
Simon pauses before giving it up to you. This is a new one for him and he is a little unsure, but curious enough to see where it leads. You move your body between him and the counter so that you can hop up and sit yourself in front of him. Opening your legs, you pull him in close.
“You trust me, don’t you?” you ask barely above a whisper as you situate him in the middle of your legs. 
More than anyone, he thinks to himself as he silently stares back into your eyes. He doesn’t say a word, doesn’t have to, he just drops his hands by his sides and tilts his jaw up.
Your ankles link behind the small of his back as your hand grasps his chin to keep his head steady so you can place the razorblade to his cheek. The sharp edge of the blade pushes into his skin and is dragged slowly down the line of his face until it reaches your hand where you pick it up to move on to the next section. It’s like an intimate dance, the risk of it all as the blade continues to pass over his skin, but you skill keeping him safe from cuts, making his heart race so you can feel his pulse under your fingertips.
“Just hold still,” you say as you feel the sensation of his hands moving up your bare thighs, running up towards your hips that have peeked out through the slit in the towel. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Ya won’t,” he says in that gruff tone without hesitation and you can feel the warmth rise in your face. 
There is steam still lingering in the air from the shower; it is fogging the mirror and adds a filmy haze to the atmosphere. The aroma of his soap is strong between your bodies, both of you coated in his usual plain, clean scent. It’s nice just being here like this with him. 
Another pass of the blade and more of that thick stubble comes right off under your careful hand. You move the blade over to the sink to rinse it again and that’s when you feel it, a stabbing against your thigh from within the confines of his towel. His damp, hair-covered chest rubs against your forearms as he moves in even tighter to you.
“Like the way ya look, all serious like when you’re workin’ hard at somethin’,” he says in a breathy whisper as you finish another swipe of the razorblade across his jaw. “Didn’t know how good you’d be with a sharp object in your hand.”
“Well, if you keep moving I might not be so precise. I’m almost done,” you scold him, but Simon isn’t deterred just because you have something sharp in your hand. He has something just as deadly prodding into you too.
His strong fingertips jab themselves into your hips, stabbing into the meat hard through the towel as he presses himself into you and suddenly it feels like you can’t quite catch your breath. He hums deep in his chest, a low, guttural sound that makes your clit throb as those long fingers of his twirl the loose, wet strands of your hair between them.
“I’ll give ya ‘bout another minute to get it done,” he says as his gaze lingers longingly on your mouth. “That’s all I can wait.” 
Suddenly the room isn’t the only thing that is obscured in a haze; your mind is misfiring terribly now as you hurry to finish the job while also being sure you don’t miss any spots. You rinse the blade for the last time and quickly check him over, flashing him a satisfied smile at your handiwork. 
“I thought we just got clean for the day?” you ask as he takes the blade from your hand and sets it on the countertop beside you.  
He doesn’t answer the question with words, instead letting his mouth do something else to convey his thoughts. His kiss is softer now with the missing stubble, though just as passionate as it always is and it takes your breath away. 
“I like the way you kiss me,” you murmur against his lips. 
“Good, cause I don’t plan on stoppin’ anytime soon, sweetheart,” he groans as his fingers reach up to your chest to find the edge of the towel; with one small tug he has it undone. It drops down around the sink as he leans in more aggressively to capture your mouth.  
There’s still enough time for another shower, right? Fuck, at this point he’ll make time.
Dawn is just beginning to break its first soft light over the base as you step out of the shower for the second time and hurriedly get dressed. Simon meets you at the door with a knot in the pit of his stomach; time’s up whether he is ready or not and if you want to make it back undetected it has to be now.
“Got plans later tonight?” he asks as he pulls you to him one last time.
You look up into his face and shake your head. “Not that I know of. Gonna be a light day today. Why?”
Simon pins you against him with his arm around your waist as he tilts his head down to kiss your lips. “Just thinkin’ ya might want ta be in later,” he says, giving one last peck before he opens the door and you immediately take off in the direction of your personal quarters.
He keeps his eyes on you till you’re out of sight, trying to wipe away the slight upturning of the corners of his mouth. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he grumbles under his breath as he shuts the door.
The rest of the day is spent in a blur, punctuated by the few times you just happened to catch a glimpse of Simon through the days as you go about. Your mind constantly wanders back to what he meant by you might want to stay in later, so when Soap asks if you’re gonna come hang in the rec with them for a bit of Saturday fun, you decline and stay put in your room instead.   
It’s a little after 9 o’clock when there is a heavy knock on your door, loud raps that echo through the room and make you put away the book you are failing to distract yourself with under your bed. You hop off the mattress, your heart fluttering in your chest. Making it to the door and pulling it open you immediately come face to face with the person leaning against your door frame: Simon. 
“Ya gonna let me in, luv?” he asks. “Or ya just gonna fuckin’ leave me out ‘ere all night?”
You cross your arms and furrow your brow as if you are agitated, but it doesn’t last more than a few seconds before you are breaking character. “Couldn’t stay away for one night, could you?” you pick back.
There is a visible smirk beneath the thin fabric of his lightweight balaclava. “ ‘S part a my routine,” he says as you grab his hand and drag him inside. “Too used to it now.” 
“Well far be it from me to stop you,” you say with a smile as you shut the door and bolt it behind you both while Simon quickly rips off the mask and pulls you into a kiss. 
“Knew you’d cave,” he breathes against your mouth.
“Maybe I like you around,” you say back.
Maybe I like bein’ around, he thinks as he kisses you back harder as you lead him over to your bed. 
Sunday evening is spent in the same vein except with you both switching off again so that you are the one to come over to his to spend your evening together. Cause he is right, this arrangement has become routine now and your day just doesn’t feel complete without seeing him. Unfortunately though, it being Sunday you both decide to call it earlier as your duties will call you to work early in the morning.
One lingering goodbye later and Simon is once again watching you walk away, secretly making a wish that maybe you’ll get the chance soon to spend more time together when something breaks him out of his thoughts. As he shuts the door behind you, suddenly he can hear a distinct buzzing coming from somewhere near his bed. He knows that sound; it’s his cellphone. It’s late and he never gets a call at this time, so quickly he grabs it up off the nightstand near the bed and as soon as he is able to get a look at the screen, his heart sinks into the floor: Price is the one that is calling. 
He picks it up. “Yes, sir,” he answers in his usual stern tone.
There is a pause over the line before the captain speaks. “Lieutenant,” Price says, “I apologize for calling, I know it’s late, but I need to see you in my office tomorrow morning. 0800 hours. There are some things we urgently need to discuss.”
This strikes Simon as odd; never has the captain called him this late to inform him of a meeting the next day, so why would he be doing it now? Something feels off about it all and though he has no information other than that his presence is needed, there is something in Price’s tone that has his blood running cold. 
“What’s this about, sir?” Simon asks, keeping his voice metered as his heart begins to race. 
Price sighs. “I would rather wait till the mornin’ to talk further as this is something that needs to be discussed in person.”
“Yes, sir,” Simon agrees.  
“That is all lieutenant, enjoy the rest of your evening,” the captain says in a rush and with that the line goes dead, leaving Simon confused and slightly worried.
Time seems to drag on endlessly as anxiety keeps him up the entire night tossing and turning as he stares into the ceiling. He thinks about texting you just to see if you’re up, but he talks himself out of it. His needless worries shouldn’t bother you, even though he knows you’d answer him in a heartbeat. No, he just needs to get through the night and then in the morning everything will be settled; it’s going to be fine.
An hour before he is supposed to meet the captain and Simon is already up and dressed; his office is less than a ten minute walk from Simon’s, but he wants to be early. It’s better to just get this over with so he can enjoy the rest of his day and make plans to see you later. With twenty minutes still to go he heads out and makes his way across the base. 
With a knock on the door, he waits until Price looks up before entering the office. 
“Early as usual,” the captain greets him.
“Better than late,” he says, before nodding back behind him. “Ya want me to shut the door?” 
“Not yet,” Price says and Simon leaves the doorway to take his seat in one of the chairs facing the large, wooden desk.
He’s sitting for just a few minutes before Price’s eyes dart up to the door and he can feel the shadow of another person standing there. “Ah, yes, come in and shut the door. Now that you are both here, we can get started,” he hears the captain say as he turns his head to see who it is that has arrived; he had been under the impression that this was a solo meeting this whole time.
Suddenly his heart stops as the person comes into his line of sight. It’s you, the blood draining from your face as you see him sitting there. It’s clear you have been caught off-guard by this as much as he has. The atmosphere becomes tense and strained as you take a seat next to Simon. Captain Price sits tall with authority as he stares back at the pair of you, a grave look in his gaze. 
“Do you know why I’ve called you in here?” Price asks, looking first at you, then the lieutenant.
Neither of you feel keen enough to say anything, but you finally speak up first, if only to break the anxiety bubbling under your moderately calm surface. “No, sir.”
Price takes a hesitant breath. “I have been informed over the weekend about you both engaging in acts of misconduct,” he says firmly. “You’ve been seen cavorting with one another on several occasions. Now, there are things that can be overlooked and if it were up to me I woulda simply turned a blind eye and pretended to know anything, but it has been brought to light that these ‘activities’ were done while out in the field on your latest mission. Is this true?” 
The hair on Simon’s arms is standing on end and he feels like he is about to be sick, the bile violently churning in his stomach as his worst fear is realized. Instantly he feels guilty and begins to blame himself; this is all his fault. After all, he was the one to break protocol back at the safehouse. His careless actions have caught up to you both and now you will have to face the consequences.
Price turns his attention to you as there is no hiding the guilt on your face like Simon can behind his mask and though neither of you have spoken yet to confirm, there is no need. Your body language mixed with his lieutenant’s silence alone tells him that the accusations that were made are indeed true.  
“You both understand that this is out of my hands,” Price emphasizes the point. “If this reaches anywhere outside this base my authority will be brought into question and this operation cannot afford that. Not to mention that I risk the possibility of losing either one or both of you if things escalate. What the hell were you thinkin’, doin’ that while deployed?”
The lieutenant doesn’t have an answer, at least not one that will make this all go away. The problem is that he wasn’t thinking; all he knew was that for the first time in a long while he wanted something so bad that the consequences didn’t matter in that moment. Now he has to pay for them and unfortunately that means you do as well…and that is what is breaking his heart. 
He has dragged you into hell with him.
“You both have crossed a line that I can’t pull you back from,” Price continues with a defeated exhale. In all honesty, he wants nothing more than to let this go, but there are too many variables at stake. “The one who reported this is threatening to take this up the ladder as far as they need if I do nothing. My hands are tied on the matter.”
“Sir, if you’ll let me explain, perhaps we can come to an agreement…” you try to reason with your captain, but that is not how this will go.
Price can hear the tremble in your voice and he knows he’s struck a chord. The look he gives you is one full of remorse. “But in the end we’re all adults here and that means ya have a say in what happens to yourselves. If you want to request a transfer or, hell, apply for a discharge, I can’t stop you; that is a decision you have a right to make.”
The wind feels like it has been knocked from Simon’s lungs and though he can see Price talking, his mind will not allow him to fully comprehend what is being said. 
Amidst the stunned hush that has fallen over the room, Price slowly pushes his chair out from the desk and makes his way to stand. “I know I’ve sprung this on you both without so much as a warning, so I’ll give you some time alone to make your decisions. Otherwise, I will have to make them for you and that is something I want to avoid.”
With that he steps out of the office, closing the door behind him, and thrusting you both into an uncomfortably tense stillness. It lingers for far too long as Simon battles internally with what to do, struggling to accept that his happiness has imploded as it always does, but one thing he keeps coming back to is the fact that no matter what, you will be forced to separate if one or both of you decide to stay in this line of work.  
The taskforce means everything to you just as it does him and this is so much bigger than simply exploring the depths of a crush. This is your entire life, all the blood, sweat, and effort you’ve both put in to be here; it’s all you’ve worked so hard for. It is all you both have ever known. 
Can you really give that all up? It’s too soon to be having this type of life-altering conversation.
Out of the turmoil in his mind, he hears you calling his name. “Simon? Hey,” you call out to him again to get his attention; it feels like he is a million miles away even though he is still sitting right beside you. 
He can’t bear to look you in the face and keeps his eyes locked on his shoes; his gaze is so avoidant that it is painful, especially after how close you both have become. Still, you try your hardest to lighten the mood even through the ache making your chest tight. 
“Not the best way to start the morning,” you chuckle uncomfortably. 
More silence follows, more agony. He’s going to have to say something at some point and when he does it’s all going to come crashing down. As long as he is quiet he can suspend the moment for as long as possible. 
“Listen,” you say, “I know this sounds bad, but we can figure it out. I mean, I don’t have a problem with requesting the transfer if I have to.”
That’s the last thing he wants; you can’t leave. If you leave it will kill him. “Sweetheart… don’t…” Simon speaks up for the first time since you entered the office and it sounds like he’s being tortured. 
“Would a transfer really be so bad? Who knows? It could just be for a short while until everything cools off,” you remark, still hopeful, but he simply shakes his head.
Simon pauses. “No, ya can’t do that,” he says and you can feel a lump forming in the base of your throat that makes you almost gag.
“Isn’t it my decision? Don’t I get a say in what I do?” you push.
Another drawn out pause. “Ya don’t wanna do that, I know ya don’t.”
“Don’t speak for me,” you say harshly as you know where this is headed and you can’t stand even the thought of it. “I can choose to do what I want.”
“I can’t let ya do that,” he denies you again, his words firm. “I can’t let ya fuckin’ give up everythin’ for me, no matter how much I may want it. Ya forget I read your personnel file when ya arrived, I know ya worked your ass off ta get ‘ere. You made it all the way ta sergeant by the sweat of your brow. Don’t fuckin’ throw it all away jus’ for somethin’ so new.”
More pauses. Why is there so much silence present now? It hurts to have all that quiet be filled with sadness where it was only comfort before. 
“So, this is it then?” Your heart is shattering into pieces, you can physically feel it crumble as you suffocate on the sadness. When did this get so god damn complicated?
Simon bites the inside of his cheek until he can taste copper. “I don’t know what else ta fuckin’ do…” he says quietly. “This is all so sudden, I don’t ‘ave a plan. I just know ya can’t leave and I need more time.”
He’s not as quick to act on this as you are and you can’t fault him for that. In all honesty he isn’t wrong; this is all happening so fast that it’s overwhelming and nothing really feels like the right decision. So, even though it pains you to concede to his argument, you do and the heartbreak wins. Yet you cling on to the hope that maybe there is a way out of this. He did not say outright that he is completely done, only that he needs time to think. 
You can give him time, right?
“Please, Simon, just look at me.”
Those brown eyes drift up to meet yours and the agony of this whole fucked up situation is written in his gaze. This is supposed to be something wonderful, not something that has casualties, and he is being ripped apart by duty and what he wants most. He wants to scream, beat his fists, break anything, but it won’t do any good; he is like a man cursed…somehow this was always going to happen.
“ ’m sorry,” he says and a heavy bit of silence follows as you sit there just looking at one another. 
Overcome with emotion, you swallow hard. “I know,” you retort as you reach out to take his hand in yours. “I know.”
Simon slides his long fingers in between the spaces in yours and holds on so tight to your hand it’s almost painful. Irrationally he thinks that maybe if he squeezes hard enough not even fate can take you from him, but that isn’t the case. There is no stopping what has to happen and though you both can prolong the moment, you can’t stop time. 
Releasing his grasp, he lets you go and all at once you feel like you’re drowning. He leaves your side only for a moment to reopen the door as a sign that a decision has been made. Several more excruciating minutes pass, but eventually Price reenters the office and again takes his seat. There is a gloom that sits in the room now like a fog and he knows without even having to ask that a decision has been reached and it is one that clearly was not reached happily.
“It’s over, sir,” Lt. Riley confirms with the short response; any more than that and he may fall apart.
Price nods in acknowledgement. “In that case, I think it best to send ya both out on separate missions very soon. It’ll show that action has been taken in case anything else comes from the allegations. I appreciate your cooperation in this matter; I know it could not have been easy.”
You nod back firmly in agreement and Lt. Riley does the same. 
Price quickly dismisses you both and you immediately bolt up from your seat to make it to the door in a flurry of quick steps, too overwhelmed by your emotions to sit still another second more beside the one thing you can no longer have. You can’t seem to catch your breath and even though you make it outside of the stifling atmosphere inside the office, it does not lessen. 
Your feet carry you forward to where you have no clue; there is no rational thought left with you right now. All you know is that you need to put distance between everything and everyone that you can before you shatter because it hurts like you are being torn in half from the inside and if you are going to rupture you want to do it where no one can see.
But grief is a volatile and disastrous thing; it consumes and destroys and confuses. Right now, your mind is scrambling to feel something other than the pain of your loss, any other emotion it can experience that won’t murder it and it settles on the emotion that is the opposite side of grief: anger.
Halfway across the site you spot that familiar mohawked head near the mess hall and a rage builds in you. You and Simon had speculated before about Johnny’s knowledge of your situation, what if he was the one that told Price? Intentional or not, what if he is the reason all this is destroyed? There is not a shred of proof, but your brain is desperate to find someone to blame, anyone to throw all your anger on and that just happens to be him. Before you can stop yourself, you are already bounding his way. 
Johny looks up as you come within earshot, turning his back to the building. “Hey, stranger, ‘aven’t seen ye ‘round much this weekend. Wonder why that is?” he says with a knowing smirk, but it drops from his face as he sees the look on yours. 
Without warning you grab Johnny by the collar and manhandle him until you are able to haul him forward and slam into the wall behind him, knocking the wind from his lungs as you crush him up against the concrete. “Was it you?” you spat the question with fury into his face. “Tell me now or so help me God…”
“What the fuckin’ hell are ye talkin’ ‘bout?” he asks back as he struggles under your tight grip around his collar. “Have ye lost yer mind?”
Blinded by rage, you pull him back only to shove him harder into the wall. “You know exactly what I’m talking about,” you say, the venom in your voice full of acid. “Were you the one that ran like a bitch to tattle on me to Price? You better have a fucking good reason why.”
Johnny pauses and stops struggling against your grip, confused. “Wait, what?” he asks. “Someone’s gone te Price ‘bout somethin’? Ye gotta explain everythin’ cause I don’t get it; seriously, what’s this about?”
The tone of his voice causes you to really discern the look in his eyes: he is genuinely confused by your statement. “You really don’t know what I’m talking about?” you question.
He shakes his head. “No and I’m bein’ serious.”
In the time you’ve known him, Johnny has always been straight with you and you do genuinely trust him to tell you the truth. He may be a pain in your ass sometimes, but honesty is always something that you have shared. If he says he doesn’t know, he must really not know.
“Tell me, what’s happened?” he asks, his brows drawn together as he stares back at you with serious concern. 
You choke back the emotion gathered in your throat as your eyes sting. No sense in hiding anything; he’d probably find out eventually anyway if gossip gets around. Besides, keeping this inside makes you feel like you’re rotting. “Price knows about what me and the lieutenant have been doing in secret and what we did while we were on our last mission,” you admit as you hang your head. 
Johnny is silent for a moment. “I fuckin’ knew it,” he says with a chuckle, which he immediately regrets as you pop your head up to give him a heated glare. “No, I… look, jus’ listen ta me for a moment.”
Releasing him from your grasp you take a step back, the anger subsiding to be replaced by an overwhelming sense of dread. Tears burn around the rims of your eyes at how lost you feel and how easily you are flying off the handle; it makes you worried. How are you meant to control this? How are you meant to survive?
Johnny straightens himself up and continues. “Yes, I knew ‘bout ye and the lieutenant…cause I was the one that orchestrated the whole setup. I seen tha way ye two kept eyein’ each other an’ I decided that ye both needed a push in tha right direction. Why the hell would I get ye together only ta get ye in trouble with Price?” 
You divert your gaze again. “Well, it’s all over now,” you can barely say aloud; just hearing yourself speak it into existence feels like being stabbed in the chest. “Whoever ratted us out is threatening to go above Price’s head if they need to. There’s nothing left for us to do, but end it or shit’s gonna get worse. It’s already done.”
Fuck, you can’t hold back for much longer and the last thing you need is to cry, but a pair of strong hands clasp around your shoulders to bring you back from the brink of your sadness. 
“Look,” Johnny tries to reassure as he is genuinely worried about your wellbeing. “I’ll figure out who it was that stuck their bloody nose in it, alright? Jus’ leave it ta me; I’ll get ye a name and hell, I’ll help ye gut the bastard if ye need. We’ll figure it out, honest.”
Somehow you don’t think anything will come of it, but at least it is something. Right now hope is a drug you have to take just to get through.
Days pass the same way with little variation in your mood. You try to stay as busy as you possibly can, filling your schedule to the brim with as much work as Price can give you. He doesn’t mention it, but everything he assigns you seems to keep you from even crossing paths with your former lover and for that you are grateful. Then a few days become a week and a week becomes two, but time does nothing to stop the ache in your chest and at the end of each day, when you return to your room and the quiet hits you, it’s impossible not to shed a few tears into your pillow as you pine for the company you once had. 
Thankfully mission assignments finally go out and you can spend your time consumed in preparation to depart to fill the void that settles in your chest. It’s a couple of days before you are meant to leave and information makes its way through the grapevine that Lt. Riley is headed out tonight with his team and god if it doesn’t kill you not even to get the chance to say goodbye.
You can’t even finish your lunch today; you are so upset by the news that you quickly toss your food into the trash and head out. You’re so wrapped in your thoughts you don’t even hear Johnny calling to you until he has caught up to you outside of the mess hall and is grabbing your elbow to drag you alongside him. Where are you going? You have no clue.   
“What are you doing?” you ask with annoyance, not up for whatever bullshit he’s trying to pull today. 
“Jus’ keep walkin’,” he says, his head constantly on a swivel as if he is looking for something. You try to protest, but it gets you nowhere as he keeps booking it across the base with you in hand until you both reach the munitions depot where he finally comes to a stop and lets you go. 
You look up at the building. “Why are we here?”
“Keep yer head and jus’ go inside,” Johnny says as he gives you a shove towards the door. “Ye only got a couple minutes, so ‘urry the hell up.”
You stare at him with a raised eyebrow. What the hell is he talking about? You really aren’t in the mood for his shit, but you also don’t have the energy in you to fight him on it; you let out a weighted huff and grab the handle, pulling it hard so that the door swings open and you head inside. 
“What the fuck am I supposed to be looking for?” you question yourself.
There is movement and you hear the sound of boot steps. “That would be me,” a gravelly voice sounds at your side, making you jump.  
You are thrown into respiratory distress as you turn around where you’re greeted with that familiar mask and its wearer is just standing within reach. “Simon,” you breathe his name like a prayer, forgetting decorum.
“Wrangled Mactavish inta helpin’ me, said he’d bring ya and guard the door,” Lt. Riley says as he stands there, unsure of what to do with his hands. “I-” he sighs, “I had ta see ya ‘fore I leave.” 
Suddenly the room is spinning and you can’t figure out which way is up. After the agonizing chasm of space that has been put between you it is disorienting to be this close again and you aren’t sure what to do. Do you run into his arms? Do you keep your distance?
It doesn’t make sense.
“I know I shouldn’t have brought ya ‘ere like this,” he says, “but I…missed ya.” He pauses and sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose through the mask. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doin’. I’m supposed ta follow orders no questions asked, but…” 
Standing there, waiting on bated breath, you stare back at him with those big doe eyes until you are able to speak and break the silence. “But what?”
More silence follows your question as he steps closer and closer and closer. Then he stops and there are only inches between your bodies. He reaches out his hand and the backs of his gloved fingers brush against your own with a touch so delicate it doesn’t seem humanly possible, most of all from someone like the lieutenant. 
“Priorities are changin’,” he admits as he takes your hand into his grasp hesitantly, eyes unable to look anywhere but at the connection as if he isn’t sure if he should touch you at all. “I never experienced somethin’ like this before. I don’t know what the fuck to do.” 
“Are you saying you want to go against Price?” 
His sight lingers on your conjoined hands as his jaw shifts under the mask, struggling to find the words. As he clears his throat, his gaze finally draws back to your face to meet your eyes. He doesn’t have to say anything, you can read the sentiment in his gaze: he is being tortured by being forced to choose between his duty to this task force and what he wants above all else. 
“Listen, yeah? As long as we follow orders, we get ta stay near each other. Fight it and who knows what the fuck’ll happen. I…” he pauses, the pain of confession hard to stand, “I don’t know if I can risk not bein’ able to see ya at all, sweetheart. Even just a glimpse cross the way.”
“You think that is better than one of us leaving?” you want to ask, but the question dies on your tongue and in its place is only a bitter taste in your mouth. 
You know if you say anything at all it’s only going to make it harder- for the both of you. You are just two soldiers bound by a need to do what is right and nothing is going to change that. Fuck do you want to scream, to rage at what you are being strong-armed into doing against your will, yet your exterior stays a calm mask against the storm inside. The situation puts you between a rock and a hard place and though you don’t want to admit it he is ultimately right; if all you get is to have nothing or what you had before all this mess started, then you would choose the latter.
At least you can still be around one another; at least you can still see him. Even if every time you do it is going to shatter your heart all over again.
Lt. Riley feels like he is being ripped apart as he catches the agonizing pain in your eyes. “I need ya ta know, if circumstances were different…” 
You stop him before he can say more by gently placing your hand against his covered lips; you cannot bear to hear anything else about ‘what ifs’ and ‘maybes’. It’s too painful right now to dream. Accepting reality is the only thing that is going to help you survive now. The lieutenant’s eyes drop to the floor as he comes to terms with the fact that some things are better left unsaid. 
Removing your hand from the fabric of his mask, you can feel that recognizable mass welling in your throat and you know you are going to have to leave soon or risk him seeing you cry. That is an image you don’t want to leave him with, not if this is what he has to see before he goes.
“I’m glad I got to see you before you leave,” you say while forcing your best smile for him. “It was hard thinking you’d leave and I wouldn’t get to say goodbye at least.”
He nods as he cups your cheek. “Ya be safe, yeah?” 
You lean into his touch and close your eyes; god, it’s hard not to enjoy his touch. “You too.” 
Time is slipping away fast like sand through a sieve and he knows that you only have a few short minutes left that you will go unnoticed so he blurts out the question that sits on the tip of his tongue and he can’t stop it from coming out. “One last kiss?” he asks, though he hates himself for doing so.
A ragged breath is pushed out of your lungs as your eyes flutter open. The question is surprising, but you already know the answer; you can’t say no because to deny him would mean denying yourself and your heart won’t let you. His hands paw at your face as his eyes beg. 
Your heartbeats mesh together as you press your body against his until they become one rhythm. He keeps his hands locked to your face as you reach up and slip the bottom of his mask up over his lips and rest it on top of his nose. It feels like you are holding your breath and time stops as you again capture his unwavering stare.   
“Make it count,” you breathe.
You can feel the shudder from his desperate inhale as he collapses into you like the burst from a dying star, crashing his fiery kiss onto your mouth with an intensity that makes your knees buckle, but he has you. His arms keep you up as he aggressively steals your lips over and over again, pinning his mouth on yours until it burns, stealing your breath, tasting your kiss, letting that gnawing ache that had been festering in his heart eat him alive.   
His intensity is matched with your own as you kiss him back with everything that you have. You need the feeling of his lips to be imprinted on yours for as long as they can and you push so hard he cannot catch air. But just as quickly as it started, it has to end.
“Eh, ye need ta ‘urry guys,” the sound of Soaps voice calls from the door, forcefully thrusting you both back into reality. Lt. Riley grips around your biceps and pries himself from you with everything he has and with that he bounds away as you fall to your knees and enfold your arms around yourself like a hug, the tears streaming down your cheeks in heavy, engorged droplets. 
He is gone.
The time away does nothing to ease the pain of your separation. Being off base makes your absence in his life even more prominent. You are in his head constantly after that last kiss, haunting him like a ghost that he cannot get rid of and though he knows he should, part of him won’t let go; he can’t. No, that’s not entirely it. Even if he could let go, he won’t.
The lieutenant’s days spent on assignment pass by agonizingly slow and he begins to realize that as much as he enjoys what he does, that it is no longer holding the same importance in his heart as it once did. That feeling has been replaced by something else and that is the way he felt with you. He had thrown everything outside of work to the wayside because never believed that he would get a chance at bits of normalcy in his life. Until you…
What if he is throwing away something that could fulfill him more than his work with the 141? Could he live with that? Whenever he finds himself with a free moment, he spends them silently contemplating that question, mulling it over incessantly in his mind even though he keeps returning to the same conclusion: he can’t live with it. 
He would rather regret leaving all this behind if it meant he could be with you than to regret letting you slip through his fingers. And he desperately wants to tell you that he finally knows what to do.
The thought eats at him until one night, as he lays awake staring at the pitch black ceiling, he can no longer take it and without thinking he is digging through his pack to grab his cell phone and just like that the small, square device is in his hand and he is turning it on. As the light pierces through the darkness, missed call after missed call pops up on the screen all from… Mactavish?  
It’s only been off for a few hours. What the fuck is going on?
Lt. Riley hurriedly moves himself into a quiet corner away from the others sleeping and quickly redials the number. The repetitive ringing continues until they instantaneously stop and the young sergeant answers with an urgency in his tone that makes the lieutenant’s heartbeat pound in his ears.
“LT, fuck, been tryin’ te get a hold a ye fer a while now,” Soap says over the receiver. “Don’t ye ever answer yer god damn phone?”
The lieutenant tries to speak quietly so that he won’t draw any prying ears into eavesdropping on this conversation. “What the hell sergeant? Ya think I just have all the fuckin’ time to chitchat?”
Soap ignores the lieutenant’s agitation; this is more important and he is risking a lot by even having this conversation at all, so it’s gotta be quick. “ ‘Ave ye spoken te Price? Laswell? Anyone back ‘ere?” he asks as if insisting on a swift answer.
“No,” Lt. Riley confirms. “Haven’t had a need. Why?”
“Fuck, so no one’s said anythin’ te ye yet?” Soap questions as if the fact is distressing him.
“ ‘Bout what? Today, Mactavish,” Lt. Riley says with a hint of unchecked panic in his voice. Nothing about how Mactavish sounds is making the lieutenant feel any better, not the way whatever it is has him flustered like this. 
“We ‘ave a situation,” he says firmly and what comes out of his mouth next makes the usually calm and collected lieutenant nearly drop his phone as his entire body goes numb. “The sergeant and her team deployed right after ye, as ye know… all was fine until a few days ago.”
Simon can’t breathe as Soap finishes his sentence. “...we’ve lost contact…they’re all currently MIA.”
Tag list: @flameohotpotatooo @shadowtfpcod @xnyx1n @igotmajordaddyissues @essentialbeats-blog @mishaglass
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spacedace · 3 months
Text
“Hey, I need to get married for bullshit Infinite Realms reasons, you two in?”
“Tt, of course.”
“Sure thing! Do we need to get going for that like, right now? Or later?”
“Eh, like in a couple of hours? The Observants are demanding some Royal Ball or something and they pulled out some stupid old laws out of their collective asses that if I’m not married by the time it starts they can assign me spouses of their choosing, can you fucking believe that shit?”
“Woah, what the hell? Can they even do that?”
“I was under the impression they were only permitted to observe.”
“Right? It’s total crap, but apparently there’s like this super old law on the books and they didn’t bring it up until now when there’s like no time left to try and force me to marry someone they pick.”
“They are training to gain influence over you?”
“Eh, more like they’re trying to get control of my Dad by way of me. But still fucked as hell.”
“So why do you need to marry both of us? Or do you just need to marry one of us and we should play rock paper scissor for it?”
“Technically I only need to marry one of you, but I don’t want them pulling out any loopholes or something. So, it’d be great if one of you could be my consort for my role as Queen of Mirrors, and one could be my consort for my role as Crown Princess. You two can figure who’s who on that all that, I’m good with whatever.”
“Oooh, can I be consort for the Mirror Court? I can annoy Kon more that way.”
“I am amenable to that. Grandfather will have a fit when he learns that I can cut his access to the Pits off at my discretion and there’s nothing he can do about it.”
“Awesome, okay are you two good for meeting up at like, three? We can pop over to my Lair and get everything sorted out there.”
“Works for me, my only class til this afternoon is at one and the professor already said we’re cutting out early because she has to go out of town this weekend.”
“Four would be more agreeable if possible, I have to take Titus to the vet for his checkup.”
“Okay let’s aim for four then. It’s just signing some paperwork, making some quick blood-slash-ectoplasm pacts and swearing a couple binding oaths… Should only take like five or ten minutes?”
“They’re not gonna make you have a huge royal wedding or anything?”
“Nah. Dad keeps things pretty chill so as long as the paperwork is all in order we’ll be good. Though once Auntie Dorathea finds out she’s absolutely gonna make us have one. She loves planning weddings. Swear its what she makes her hoard out of somehow.”
“So long as we have a say in some of the proceedings I have no issue with that eventuality.”
“Same, it sounds like it’d be a fun way to annoy the Observants even more.”
“Don’t for get all the weirdos trying to be my suitors and all that bullshit.”
“We have an accord then. We can reconvene at the usual place.”
“Awesome, you two are the best! I gotta jet and let everyone know and get the ball rolling on the paperwork stuff. See you guys at four!”
With that, Nomad - Stella Phantom, Crown Princess of the Infinite Realms, Queen of Mirrors, Core of the Speedforce and ghostly hero of the Titans and the Justice League - tore a rip in the fabric of space and time and darted out of the room the same way she came. Through the mind-bending tear in reality the eerie, eye-searing green of the Infinite Realms glowed in all its unsettling glory, Phantom Keep a glittering expanse of night sky made solid in the distance.
Jon waved at her cheerfully as Damian gave a nod of farewell before both silently turned their attention back to their respective tablets as the portal closed behind their friend and teammate and the glimpse of the Ghost Zone disappeared again. Completely unbothered by the conversation just held or the life changing implications that came with them.
Jon was humming as he tapped away at something on the screen before him, Damian propping his head up on his fist in vague boredom as he frowned down at the information he was reading.
The rest of the room Nomad had left behind was caught in a frozen, stunned silence in the wake of the baffling conversation they’d all just been witness to. All eyes in the room darted between Flamebird and Pheonix seated calmly at the end of the table, then to the space where Nomad had disappeared to, back to the young men, and then towards the head of the table where Superman and Batman sat looking bewildered and a bit on the verge of heart attacks.
The short status update meeting was about to become much, much longer it seemed.
Though a lot more entertaining.
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tinyavenuesailor · 1 year
Text
Crack Fic! Where Everyone thinks Merlin is the reasonable one.
Everyone loves Merlin and thinks he’s the sweetest person, who couldn’t hurt a fly. So, they’re all annoyed when they see how Arthur treats him. The King is constantly overloading his manservant with work, ordering him to do massive tasks and coming up with ridiculous excuses to keep Merlin from taking a break. So, the knights and others constantly try to find ways to pull Merlin away from Arthur’s side and give him a break but Arthur always finds a way to mess up their plans.
Gwen and the other maids sometimes try to help Merlin with his chores
Gwen: Arthur you can’t actually expect Merlin to clean the entire throne room by himself
Arthur: *shrugs* Yes. I’m hardly asking him much
Gwen: It usually takes five maids to thoroughly clean the throne room. It’s ridiculous to ask one person to do so much work and then, to place Lancelot as a guard to make sure none of us can help him. 
Arthur: Lancelot wouldn’t have to guard anything if you all weren’t so ready to disobey my orders. I said Merlin will clean the throne room ALONE and that is final
Gwen: I never knew you could be such a cruel person and to Merlin of all people
*Gwen storms off*
Gwaine, Leon, Percival, Elyan and some of the other knights try to steal Merlin away to the tavern to relax
Gwaine: Come on Princess. I’m sure you can survive one night without Merlin 
*Gwaine tries to pull Merlin to their side but Arthur grabs hold of Merlin and pulls him back*
Arthur: Need I remind you, Merlin is my manservant and doesn’t have time to play around. He still has very important duties to complete
Elyan: What could he possibly have to do at this time? Most servants have gone home for the day?
Arthur: Well Merlin is the King’s manservant as I keep reminding you and still have very important things to do
Gwaine: Like what?
Arthur: *pauses* For one, he needs to clean the mess he made in the closet
The knights: *trying to process the bullshit Arthur just told them* 
Arthur: *crossing his arms, 100% serious, daring them to challenge him*
Merlin: It’s fine guys really, probably next time *pulling Arthur and himself back into Arthur’s chambers and locking the door*
Or when something terrible happens to Merlin like the time he got kidnapped and everyone went into full panic
Arthur: *staring hard at Lance* Merlin’s been kidnapped?
Elyan: They ambushed us out of nowhere and before we knew it they were off with him.
Leon: Don’t worry sire, I’ll gather a search party immediately to have him found.
Gwaine: We’ll make them sorry they ever thought to mess with our Merlin
Arthur: *holding up a finger and turning to Lance again* Merlin’s been kidnapped?
Lance: ..... That is the story
Gwaine: Princess, have you not been listening. We need to hurry every second counts. 
Arthur: I heard, just wondering why he couldn’t have chosen a better day to get himself kidnapped
*Everyone gawks at Arthur in disbelief*
Basically, everyone thinks that Arthur doesn’t appreciate Merlin and that their cinnamon roll deserves better and formed a protection squad to help Merlin get the treatment he deserves.
Meanwhile in Reality....
Arthur knows about Merlin’s magic. He is fully aware of how powerful Merlin is and finally sees that his manservant isn’t an idiot. He’s just a bloody madman.
===In the throne room=== 
*Arthur and Merlin both staring at a dark purple swirling vortex on the floor*
Arthur: *takes a deep breath* Merlin, why is there a hole in my throne room?
Merlin: Well, it's not a hole. It’s a sort of gateway to the dark dimension.
Arthur: Oh, okay. Why is there a gateway to the dark dimension in my throne room?
Merlin: ..... I can fix it
Lancelot: Arthur, I heard you- *looks down at the menacing purple gateway on the floor and then back to Arthur and Merlin* 
Lancelot: Should I go guard the door?
===After Gwaine, Elyan and Percival tried to take Merlin out for drinks===
Merlin: You know we both could use a break. I am a bit hungry. Been a while since I had a drink too
Arthur: Well maybe, we can join them after you explain why my Uncle is tied up in my closet
*Arthur opens his closet doors revealing a tied-up and gagged Agravaine making muffled noise*
Merlin: You told me to get evidence that he was working with Morgana
Arthur: And your solution to that was to kidnap him?
Merlin: What better way to hear it than from the man himself? 
Arthur: What’s going to happen when people realize he’s missing
Merlin: Don’t worry, one memory wipe spell and he’ll be back tomorrow in his chambers like nothing ever happened
Arthur: You told me those spells were dangerous
Merlin: *laughs* Well, yeah, I’m not using it on us
Agravaine: *making muffled and panicked pleads to Arthur*
Lancelot: Sorry, Arthur, Gaius told me that Merlin needed m- *sees a tied-up Agravaine* 
Lancelot: *nods* I’ll go stand guard
=== Arthur, the first to find Merlin after his “kidnapping” ===
Arthur: *folds his arms and looks behind his manservant to see a trail of bodies* Kidnapped?
Merlin: Well they did try to kidnap me. I just decided not to resist. 
Arthur: *sighs* Is everyone dead?
Merlin: I was supposed to leave someone alive?
Arthur: *rolls his eyes* Come before I have to explain how my “innocent”, “weak” manservant took out a group of mercenaries.
Lancelot: *already standing guard* 
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cryptidghostgirl · 4 months
Text
Make You Wish Chapter Two -- Where Is She
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Warnings: really super mild versions of cannon violence.
Word count: 2,072
Previous Part: Make You Wish Chapter One -- Seven Years
Master list link:
Master Lists 
Hazbin Hotel Master List 
Make You Wish Master List
A/N I accidentally posted this before I was ready tooo ahhhh!!! it's fine. Everything was already written I just had to format it properly and stuff.
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Alastor had been at the Hazbin Hotel for only a few days and was already enjoying his time there greatly. It was an entertaining place, to say the least, and now that he had his feet under him, he was intent on making it even more so.
Charlie was pacing around the sitting room, stressed beyond belief. She had gone to speak to Adam the previous day to try and get his support for her plan, only to wind up with the news that the next extermination was coming in six moths, rather than the usual twelve. Alastor watched her duress in amusement as he sauntered into the hotel lobby, side stepping Angel, Charlie, and Vaggie to take a seat at the bar.
"It's nothing we can't handle," Charlie was explaining, trying to convince herself as much as anyone else in the room, "just angels cutting our timetable in half. But who needs a whole year to save souls? Am I right? And next time, when they cut the time in half again and again, we'll just handle it, right?!"
Vaggie got to her feet, grabbing her girlfriend by the shoulders and stopping her from her relentless pacing.
"Yes, we will." she confirmed.
"Oh please," Angel cut in from the couch, his eyes fixed on his phone, "ya had less than half a chance when you started all this salvation bullshit. And now...? Ain' no silver lining this time, toots."
"Sure there is." Charlie turned to him, "We just have to look a little harder for it."
"Well, while you're lookin', the rest of Hell is going nuts."
Angel turned his phone to Charlie, showing all the news headlines of terror he'd pulled up.
"People are already freaking out about the news. Look at what's happening in the Doomsday District."
He scrolled down to a video of a burning town just as a text notification popped up.
"Uh, what is a 'donkey show'?" Charlie asked in confusion, having read the text.
"Ah, heh, nothing." Angel pulled the phone from her line of sigh, trying to come up with a quick lie, "My boss, Val, is just freaked out about the news too. Like I said, everyone's losing their shit."
"Yeah, that is true." Vaggie hummed thoughtfully, a hand to her chin, "Sinners are desperate. Maybe desperate enough to try anything to escape extermination?"
"Speaking of sinners," Alastor said, drawing the attention in the room to him as he turned towards Husk who was busying cleaning glasses, "I think it's time I look up my old partner in crime."
"And what do I have to do with that?" the cat demon gruffly replied, not sparing Alastor a glance.
"Your partner in crime?" Charlie asked, taking a step towards the bar, "I always thought you... you know, worked alone?"
Alastor's grin widened.
"Oh never you mind, dear." he replied, throwing her a glance over his shoulder, "Just a lost soul I'm acquainted with is all."
"Yeah. You've been trying to get her to sell you that soul for what, the past seventy years is it now?" Husk scoffed.
Alastor's eye twitched slightly at the implication of his failure.
"If I wanted it, I would have it." he hummed threateningly, and Husk backed down.
"That's great!" Charlie exclaimed, "So she's a friend of yours? Do you think she'd help with the hotel? Oh! Or maybe that she'd want to be a guest?!"
"Charlie-" Vaggie began but Alastor quickly cut her off.
"I don't see a harm in asking." he cheerily replied.
"And you know her, Husk?" Charlie asked.
He looked up as he placed a clean glass on the shelf, shooting Alastor a glance before nodding.
"Do you think she'd be a good fit?"
He sighed, crossing his arms as Husk turned to face Charlie fully.
"She's a sweetheart, I think you'd get along well." he admitted, "But she's trouble, just like him."
Husk gestured towards Alastor and Charlie's smile widened.
"Well, with all Alastor has done for us so far, I think we could probably use more trouble like him."
"Oh you flatter me." Alastor waved her off, looking away in a false show of humility.
"No really." Charlie insisted, "You-"
"Show yourself, Alastor!" a dramatic call cut Charlie off mid thought.
----
"Um. Alastor?" Charlie hesitantly began, peeking out from behind his shoulder as she watched the havoc he was wreaking on the snake shaped sinner, "I think he's had enough."
Alastor cackled joyfully, not even watching as his shadows destroyed the air ship.
"Nah, he's got a few more hits in 'im." Angle disagreed, enjoying the show immensly.
The shadows tilted the ship forward, dropping Sir Pentious out through the broken windshield. He hit the ground with a thud, right before Alastor's feet. Stopping in his fit of laughter, he looked down at the man, spinning his microphone like a baton.
"Thanks for another forgettable experience." he teased as one of the egg creatures fell from the ship, splattering on the ground beside Charlie who took a step away.
"Thank... you..." Sir Pentious began, his voice pained as he raised his head slowly, "for letting your guard down!"
Almost before Alastor could register what was happening, the snake had grabbed onto his coat with his tail and torn a piece from its hem. Alastor took a menacing step forward, his eyes narrowed.
"Oh shit." Pentious' triumphant laughter died out.
Slowly, Alastor sprouted a pair of shadowy horns. With a snap of his finger, the ground under the snake detonated, throwing him up into the air and far away from the hotel with a scream. He watched as Pentious flew away, retracting his horns and standing with a hand behind his back. Once the snake was out of sight, he at last turned to Charlie and Angel, as well as Husk and Vaggie who had come out to join them.
"Well, it looks as thought I need a visit to the tailor." he hummed, "Husk?"
"Yeah?" Husk grunted.
"Where did you say she was again?"
"I didn't."
Husk crossed his arms defensively and Alastor took a step towards him, his smile a little smaller than normal. There was an odd air between the two of them, a tension every one present could feel biting into their skins.
"Whats that?" Alastor asked lowly, his head cocked slightly to the side.
Husk sighed.
"Last I heard she was working for some imp in Pentagram City." Husk reluctantly admitted, looking away, "As an assassin or something, I don't know the details."
"An imp, you say." Alastor thoughtfully replied, his expression unreadable.
"Look, Alastor." Husk turned back to his master, "Don't fuck this up for her. She seemed pretty happy last time I saw her. You disappearing like that wrecked the poor girl."
"Just means she'll be all the more happy to see me."
Alastor turned, beginning to walk away. At the sound of Husk speaking again, he paused, keeping his back to the quartet.
"Alastor, ju-"
Alastor turned his head, shooting Husk a critical look over his shoulder. It shut the cat demon up almost immedeatly.
"Best of luck, chums!"
"Wait, you're leaving?" Vaggie exclaimed, taking a step forward.
Irritation prickling beneath his skin, Alastor turned back to them once again. It had been seven years, he didn't know how much longer he could wait. Sure, he'd had time in Hell on his own, nearly twenty years of it. He didn't need her per-say, she just made things more interesting, more enjoyable. It just felt odd for them to be parted.
Sure, when they had first met, he had thought she was just an easy steal of a soul. Young, naive, frankly undeserving in his opinion of eternal damnation. But smart, smarter than she looked. Y/n had refused any and all deals with the man and so, he had taken it as a challenge. What had begun as a game: Alastor trying to gain ownership of Y/n's soul ended up as an after-life long friendship.
Alastor would never admit it to anyone but, in his absence, he had even missed Y/n the smallest bit. She kept things interesting, he told himself, that was all. Always causing discreet mischief, always quick with a joke. A true pleasure to have on the show, as he always used to say.
"Alastor, we need your help. We need you to do your job." Vaggie continued.
"We need a wall." Angel finished for her, gesturing to the portion of the hotel Sir Pentious had destroyed in his attack.
"Of course." Alastor replied, keeping an irritated remark at bay, "Can't let my new project fall into disrepair already. What would the papers say?"
With a snap of his fingers, minions made of shadows pulled themselves from the ground at his feet. So as not to give anyone another chance to stall him further, he quickly turned on his heel and walked off.
Alastor was a man of image, he kept his pace slow and firm. Couldn't have any of them getting any ideas in their heads about the nature of his relationship with Y/n. That had always been trouble in the old days. The minute people saw the pair together, they started assuming things. He had already decided he was going to be more careful about that this time around and this was the first step.
There was a slight bounce in his step as he headed into the city's center, an odd anticipation fluttering in his chest. Alastor pushed it to the side. It was simply the thrill of being back in his old stomping ground that was to blame. It didn't matter he'd already been back a few days and it should have worn off by now, he should just feel lucky to still be so entertained by this place he'd known longer than he'd even been alive. Right?
----
Y/n was sitting at Blitzo's desk, reading through paperwork he had neglected to fill out or file correctly. It wasn't like any one in Hell really payed their taxes, but the mess still stressed her out. She let out a sigh, leaning back in her chair and rubbing her eyes in irritation. She had never had to do this type of work before, not since she'd been alive anyways. How the times had changed.
Noise of Blitzo and Moxxie fighting filtered in through the closed door. It wasn't anything special, anything new. The pair were always at one another's throats, she wasn't worried. What would be worrying, was if things were quiet. This was just the way life sounded now: inelegant and brazen. Nothing like it used to.
The buzzing of her phone on the desk beside her pulled Y/n from her reveries and she picked it up. The collar lay heavy around her neck as she read the message. Y/n had made some bad choices along the way, figuring out how to be on her own. She wasn't pleased with them, but it was what she had had to do. Back then, she hadn't had the need to fight for herself in over sixty years. It was the only thing she could think to do.
She double tapped the text, marking it with a thumbs up before shutting her phone off and leaning her head down on the table. There was no point in wishing for things to be different than they were but, it was just that time of year and the text had pushed her over the edge. A few stray tears trickled out of her eyes.
"Goddamnit, Al." she sighed into the empty room, "Where the hell are you."
Silence pressed its hands against her ears, blurring her perception of the world around her. Y/n had a few seconds, a few nearly peaceful moments before, again, her thoughts were interrupted. This time, not by her phone but by Blitzo calling for her from the other room.
"Y/n!" he yelled and she lifted her head off the table.
"Yeah?" she called back through the closed door.
"Get your ass out here!"
"Why? A client? Can't you handle it?"
"Y/n!" he insisted again, a sense of urgency to his voice.
If this was anything less than an absolute emergency, he was never going to hear the end of it. She was not in the mood for his games today.
"Fine." she groaned and pulled herself from the chair, "I'm coming."
----
Next Part -> Chapter Three -- A Reunion
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blingblong55 · 6 months
Text
His pretty girl -Vladimir Makarov
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Based on a request:
I looved ur makarov fic n im here to request smth else w him, there's barely anything w him its sad How would makarov treat his dear wife when she's sick? I'm kinda sick rn so.. : 3 ---- F!Reader, wife!reader, husband!Makarov, nothing but fluff ----
A/N: short but good…I hope…
Vladimir was gone for some weeks. He couldn't come in contact with you so when you didn't show up to greet him he was worried. The drive home was usually calm but this time, he rushed it. Avoided all cars and soon, ran inside. The image he saw before his eyes, oh did it melt him. You were curled on the couch. The blanket slowly falls off your body. Used tissues all over the coffee table and floor. The tea was cold and your soft breathing gave him even more reason to clean the area as quietly as possible. Your shared bedroom was cleaned, all dishes washed and then he carried you to bed. The medication you took to sleep was so strong you didn't know he even carried you to bed. That entire night, he checked your temperature, kissed your forehead and held you against his chest.
When you got sick, the first time, he panicked, called a doctor and yelled at him when he said that all you needed to do was drink tea and take it easy. Now, knowing his pretty little wife too well, he knows all he needs to do. 8 am, have breakfast ready, with tea on the side and orange juice just in case you want that one more and it must be room temperature, not cold. He must put on some video as you eat because you like to catch up on some show as you eat. You like wearing his shirts more because you swear it makes you feel better, which is bullshit because he knows you like to just have a reason to wear his clothes.
He must wash all dishes, not complain about being tired because how dare he. Makarov knows this well mainly because it worked the first 4 times and this time it is the same. After breakfast, washing dishes, he has to take you on a walk, the air, the way you smile, oh he knows the fresh air helps that stuff nose and he also gets even more private time with you.
Lunch for a day or two is chicken soup, his grandmothers since he knows you loved it any time you were sick. Kisses on your forehead all day is a must, you know that. If you groan and push him away, he gives you a little frown and moves closer. "You know kisses are a part of the remedy, my pretty girl." He grins when you give him your lazy smile. Your face is hot from both the fever and from his lips. Once he and you eat lunch, he cleans the home and don't you dare walk to the bedroom, he has made it clear he needs to clean and sanitise the bed.
If he has a meeting, he doesn't go to it, it's over the phone as he is in bed and has you cuddled to him. You can't argue against it. Your husband must give cuddles while on the phone. It's a rule at this point.
At night, he makes dinner, makes sure it all tastes wonderful and then feeds it to you since wrapping you in a burrito can't let your hands move. It's a funny but cute image. You, sat on the couch, blanket wrapped around you which makes you look like a cute little bug as your husband feeds you dinner. Oh, the frowns and pouts you give to his giggle and laughter won't help, he just adores you this way.
After dinner, more cuddles and kisses come by. He calls it 'kiss the sick away.' When you lean on him he knows this is to sleep but he can't allow over 3 naps per day when you're sick. So, he carries you to the bathroom. Gives you your medicine, and takes the blankets, clothes and anything in between off you. The bath was set to a very comfortable temperature.
He undresses too and once he has both of you in the bath, he kisses your shoulders. Your warm back on his chest as he cleans your body with so much gentleness it has you leaning on him and smiling. "That's what you needed huh, pretty girl," he kisses your wet shoulder again and wraps his arms around you. You kiss his bicep and he chuckles. "Don't start, my love," he whispers. The lights dimmed, him and you…this is the perfect way to get better. He hums a song, the same one he married you to and the same one he hums when he is far from home.
"I love you, pretty girl," he whispers and kisses the nape of your neck. "I love you more," you whisper back. "We both know who wins this, so do you want to start this game?" He kisses your neck again and chuckles. In moments like this, in which the world is kind and calm, he appreciates life like any normal person would. "You always win, i want to win this time." You pout and know damn well he can't say no to his pretty wife. "Fine, you win this time but we both know I have a long winning streak in this game." He grabs your hand and kisses it. In his head, he already won. And in this life, he truly did.
A/N: Makarov and Ghost are the kind of man to give me a Hozier song kind of vibe and that is what feeds my fluff brain
Tags:
@makarovsbbg @sans-chara @selarus @liyanahelena @hilmiponken @personwhosucksassatmath @undercover-smutlover @ontopofyourceiling @kielsegur @johfamm0 @goldenmclaren @moonsua1 @rivivienner @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @alxexhearts @baldwinhearts @strangepuppynightmare
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appleblueberry-pie · 3 months
Note
Yandere Miguel asks? Alright
Miguel who's already lost his daughter Gabriella and his wife when he messed up the Canon and the universe got destroyed. He's doing his little thing in the spider society when he finds a universe nearly identical to the one that got destroyed, the one where he replaced himself.
Only, in this universe, (Y/n) and Gabriella are meant to die instead of that universe's Miguel.
I imagine Miguel would tell himself a lot of excuses and rationalizations before bringing those two back to his universe (probably with a permanent form of a day pass). A little white lie to them won't also hurt.
Its a plot I've been wanting to write for awhile (as a fellow Yan author) but I've put writing on the back burner so I wanted to share this idea and see how'd you approach it :)
I'll be honest, I didn't feel like writing the entire backstory for what you want(which I usually would), but I went to straight action.
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BLOOD MOON
He thought things would get easier from here. He thought he could finally come home, relax, see his beautiful and amazing wife, along with his precious baby girl. Because he's worked too hard in this lifetime. Too many short days and long nights, too many sacrifices made to keep himself and others safe. Too many deaths. Too many losses. Too many remembrances and forgotten memories. He just wanted it all to end. And he thought it did. Because he finally found you guys. Here you were standing before him with those gorgeous eyes he always got lost in. Telling him about his daughter and your day. So why were your words so venomous?
"I can't do this anymore." He kissed you on the forehead and closed the front door behind him. He walked past you and placed his work items on the table. "What was that, dear?" You stared at him as if he grew two heads. "We can't stay here forever, Miguel." He shuffles to get one shoe off before he finally comprehends your words. His face falls and he looks over at you. He had told you it was all in the past. Why are you bringing up old news? "Can't stay here?" He quotes you as if you said a joke. Your face twists into one of anger and you walk over to him.
"You know what I mean. Holding us here with no real motive besides keeping us for your own sick fucking pleasures. We're not pets, Miguel-" "Wait, wait, wait, wait. Where is this coming from? Pets?? Y/n, what are you talking about? I've never treated you like any kind of animals, you're my wife-"
"I don't know you!!" The growing silence allows you both hear the creak of a door opening from afar and Miguel begins to stare at you as if you mentioned something taboo. As if you're stupid. "Let's talk about this later." Miguel turns his back to you to go your shared bedroom. "No, I'm not going to talk about this later, Miguel, we're not from here! Look, I don't know what you want, or even who you are. But...you can't just-" Miguel feels his irritation that build up all day begin to rise again. His shoulders tense the more you talk, and your daughter peeking out her bedroom to witness this wasn't helping.
He turns to face you again, almost seeming to crowd over you. "I am your husband. I am your husband! I've given you everything you needed. I gave you a place to call home, a better home. You don't have to live off of minimum wage anymore. And finally, your daughter has a father figure to watch after her, aren't you happy?? Because I sure am! Gaby's been so happy now and so have you. Why can't you just.....appreciate the things I've sacrificed for the both of you???"
You scrunch your face and take a step back. This stranger suddenly spouting bullshit to you about your killed husband and saying that the two of you being in a random different universe is a blessing?? You're confused and scared and would rather live where you used to than wherever this foreign place is. He was beginning to piss you off. ".....How dare you?" Miguel raises his eyebrows when he notices your tone. "How dare you? My husband is fucking dead......You stole us away from home and now you're saying that whatever this shitshow is, is a blessing?" "Mommy?"
You shake your head and jab your finger into his chest. "You don't know the first thing about me." "I know you love teaching Gaby piano, I know you love going out on walks when the sun is setting, I know you love letting me drive you to places, I know you love when I cook you dinner, I know where you used to work, where you want to work, I know when you first told me you were pregnant with our babygirl, I have your vows memorized and I know that you love me. I know that you love me, so why don't you just let me love you, hermosa?" Miguel had backed you into a door and gently cradled your face into his hands. He softly whispers to you as if trying to snap you back into reality, as if it wasn't setting in the moment you realized this psycho was obsessed with you two.
"I would never, ever hurt you. I do everything for our family, nothing else. My two girls are the only things on my mind all day when I'm at work. And to come back home to you is everything I could ask for. And if there was anything else I could ask for, is for you to love me back. Please." He had gestured your daughter out of her bedroom and she ran into his arms. He smiled down at her, making her worried face shift into one of relief. Miguel laughs and kisses her forehead lovingly. You want to kill this man for ever putting his hands on you and your daughter. You failed to keep your girl safe and now she was in the hands of a monster she believed to be her dead daddy. Your worst fucking nightmare come true. Calling out to her and making her come to your side wouldn't save her. Attempting to kill him wouldn't save her because then the both of you would be stuck wherever you were. All you wanted was for her to live a normal life, and not even the universe could give you that. What were you gonna do?
Miguel noticed your blank face and sent Gaby away, grabbing your hand gently. You let him. He hugs you and whispers into your ear. "I'm done talking about this. You clearly need sleep." You look up at him, glaring, yet he continues to stare down at you with adoration. He leaves no room for argument as he opens the bedroom door to lead you in.
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writing-blog-iguess · 7 months
Text
Online Matchup 7
Summery: It’s Jason’s first gala since he came back to Gotham. As expected, he’s n a little nervous. But don’t worry, you’re there to help him get through it.
Warning: fluff, swearing
Words: 4.2 k
A/N: So, here's the long awaited gala scene. Feedback is always welcome and Enjoy!
Taglist: @xoxoyourdoll @teapartydreams
ao3
Series master list
————
October 29
Jason (10:30 am) *sent a picture of the two of you cuddling on your couch*
Y/N When the fuck did you take that?
Jason Such language And so early in the day
Y/N First of all, you swear just as much as I do so shut And second of all, answer the question Jason
Jason But you know the answer We fell asleep on the couch last week
Y/N But we didn’t cuddle We were on the opposite sides of the couch!
Jason You’re right But somewhere in the night That happened
Y/N I do not remember that
Jason Because I got off the couch before you woke up Didn’t want you to be embarrassed
Y/N Sir, I call bullshit You love making me flustered
Jason That maybe so, but I needed the bathroom I tried to wake you up But man, you sleep like the dead
Y/N I’m very proud
Jason No kidding So, what are you up to today?
Y/N Homework, probably Clean the apartment Been slacking with that lately And with the party that’s happening on Tuesday, I need to make sure things are put away before they can break
Jason You don’t strike me as a party person
Y/N I am not My friend loves to throw Halloween parties And it’s usually at my place
Jason And you're okay with it?
Y/N We have a deal I let her throw it at my place She has to clean it up the day after
Jason But Halloween is on a Tuesday Don’t you guys have classes the next day?
Y/N Yup and she knows that I take great pleasure in seeing her clean while hungover She’s going to do a shit job cause she’ll be rushing But she wanted it on Halloween
Jason You’re a bit of a sadist aren’t you?
Y/N Only with my friends and they do that themselves I wanted to hold it yesterday But noooooo, it has to be on Halloween
Jason Your friends sound lovely
Y/N Don’t get me wrong They are but sometimes it feels like I have all the brain cells
Jason That’s hard to believe Sometimes I think you don’t have any
Y/N Wow WOW Guess you’re not invited to the party anymore
Jason That’s okay I probably couldn’t make it
Y/N Helping your brothers again?
Jason I plead the fifth
Y/N You ain’t slick I see you
Jason (3:40 am) Finished everything you wanted to get done today?
Y/N Cleaning, yes Homework, no
Jason How come you're always doing homework?
Y/N I don’t know if you’ve noticed But I’m in school And in order to pass and get my degree I need to hand in my assignments
Jason Lame
Y/N That’s just rude Why do you wanna know? Planning to have a sleepover again
Jason No Just curious
Y/N That’s a little sus babe
Jason I didn’t know we were up to pet names now
Y/N I retract the pet name If we started using pet names, I wouldn’t start with bade
Jason Looking forward to hearing what you’ll use
Y/N Mm, we’ll see
A series of knocking woke you up from your accidental nap. Blinking wearily, you tried to figure out what had woken you up.  The knocking started again, and you let your head lull in that direction. “Okay, okay. I’m coming, I’m coming,” you grumbled, as you slowly got off the couch. 
You pulled the blanket from the couch and wrapped it around your shoulders as you made your way to the door. Unlocking it, you pulled the door open and blinked at a very well-dressed Jason. 
“Was there a date we agreed to that I somehow forgot about?” you asked and moved out of the way when Jason let himself in. 
“What? No, why would you say that?” he asked, pacing around the living room. You closed the door and turned around, meekly gesturing to his outfit.  
“You’re in a tux.” 
“Huh?” he said and looked down. “Oh. Yeah no, this is for something else.” “Okay…? Can I help you with something then?” 
“So, there’s this gala tonight,” Jason said, going back to pacing, “and it’s the first one I’m attending. And Bruce has the idea of making a statement that I wasn’t actually dead.” 
“So, it’s the dead coming back to life thing,” you mused, “does Bruce have a story?” 
“Yup. He has everything planned but I-” 
“You’re not ready to be integrated back into society,” you finished and he merely nodded. “What me to come with? Act as your buffer?” That had stopped Jason’s pacing and he turned towards you in surprise. 
 “You’d do that?” he asked, shrugging. “You’ll be in front of cameras. You’ll meet my family for the first time.” 
“I know,” you said, hiding how nervous you were at the thought of meeting them for the time. “But you need help, and maybe someone in your corner.” 
“But you don’t know the full story.” 
“I don’t need it to help you.” 
“I could kiss you.” 
“I’ll count this as date two,” you said, smiling when he snorted. “What time do you need to be there?” 
Jason looked at his watch before answering. “Twenty minutes.”
“Give me ten.”
“There’s no way you’ll be ready in time,” Jason said, and you ignored him in favour of going to the bathroom. 
“We’ll see about that,” you muttered as you started the shower. 
Shower done, and hair dried, you wrapped a towel around you and quickly made your way to the bedroom. Jason had the decency of looking away when he saw you coming out of the bathroom.
If there was one thing about Jason, he was a gentleman and it was something you liked about him.
You closed the door behind you, and went through your closet until you found the dressing bag. Taking it out, you unzipped it, wanting to know if there was anything it needed before putting it on. To your relief, there wasn't.
Putting it on, you did one final check to make sure everything was good before going to the living room.
“Well, I stand corrected,” Jason said when he heard the bedroom door open. “That was less than-wow,” he breathed out when he looked up to see you standing there. “You look fantastic.”
Putting your hands behind your back, you swayed a little, looking a little shy. “You think so?”
“I know so,” he answered, giving you a smile. “Are you sure you want to do this? We can stay here and have a movie marathon. We don't have to.”
“Yeah, but you’ll be delaying the inevitable,” you said, making your way to him. Standing in front of him, you took his hands and squeezed. “I know you're not ready for it, and you probably never will. But I’ll be there with you the entire night. You just need to trust me that I will.”
Jason’s eyes softened and he cupped your face, thumb gently stroking your cheeks. “I do,” he whispered. You smiled and turned your head slightly and kissed his palm.
“Then let’s go make the best out of a shitty situation.”
The ride to the venue was a lot shorter than you had anticipated. But the drive was spent in silence as the both of you mentally prepared yourselves for the night.
You weren’t entirely sure what you were getting yourself into, but you planned to see this through.
Jason slowly made his way through the line and pulled the car in park when it was your turn to get out. Before you could reach for the handle, Jason’s hand tightened around yours, stopping you from moving.
Sitting back, you turned to Jason. “Everything okay?”
“Are you sure about this?” Jason asked, and your eyes softened. “I mean it, we can turn around and do something else.”
“I’m sure,” you said, leaning over slightly. “But if you're not ready, I’m sure Bruce would understand the situation.”
“It's not what I’m worried about,” he said, “the life of a Wayne can be pretty hectic. With being in the public, everyone’s eyes are on you. I don’t want you feeling uncomfortable when the media tries to find who you are. I…I don’t want you to leave because of them.”
“We’ll, it’s a good thing I don't care what people think,” you said, squeezing his hand. “I doubt they’ll follow you around. The tabloids are more interested in Bruce Wayne than they are of his kids. And when it’s focused on them, it’s usually at events like these or if they did something newsworthy.” You paused, biting your lip when you realized you might have gone too far. “Um, no offense.”
Jason laughed, shaking his head. “None taken. Ready?”
“Ready when you are,” you answered, squeezing his hand one more time. He gave it a kiss and told you to stay in the car for a moment. You watched as he left, and walked around the car only to open your door.
“My lady,” he teased, holding out his hand to you. You took it with a smile, and stepped out of the car, ignoring the shouts and the camera flashes.
“My good sir,” you teased back, linking your arm through his. Leaning over slightly to whisper in Jason’s ear, “do we need to stay for pictures?”
“No, we can just go in,” Jason answered and led the way. You tightened your grip on his arm as you followed and swallowed down your nerves. “Ready?”
“Never going to stop asking that tonight?” you asked, shooting him a teasing smile.
“When it comes to your well-being? Never.”
“My knight in shining armor.”
“I thought that would be Red Hood,” he questioned as the two of you walked through the doors. He laughed when you hit his chest, grumbling that you should have never told him about your little crush on the hero.
“Shut up,” you whined, though happy to see him in better spirits. “So, are there any rules I need to follow before I make a fool out of myself?”
“I don’t think you could ever make a fool out of yourself,” Jason said, looking around. As if he was looking for someone to avoid or to say hello to.
“Well, clearly you don’t know me very well,” you said, guiding him to the bar you spotted when walking in. “At some point or another, I can and will embarrass myself. If given the change.”
“Then I’ll make sure you don’t have a chance. What are you doing?” he asked when he noticed where he was. 
“Getting a drink,” you answered like it was obvious. You turned to the bartender about to order.
“Aren’t you a little young to be drinking?” Jason asked before you could. You sent him a pointed look, with a shake of your head.
“I’m like, a few months younger than you. What do you think? I’ll have water please,” you said to the bartender, shooting her a smile. She returned it and went to get your drink. “Make those two please?”
“Not a problem.”
“You’re so weird,” he stated, watching as you retrieved the glasses when they were set in front of you. He took the glass you were offering, and held it.
“Yet here we are,” you said, taking a sip. 
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Before you could reply to Jason, a voice called from behind you. The both of you turned and you hid your laugh behind your hand at the look Jason made.
“Well, that didn’t take long for them to find me,” he muttered, turning away as his brothers, well at least that’s who you think they were, walked towards you.
“It was bound to happen sooner or later,” you reminded him, holding his hand that wasn���t holding the cup. 
“Was hoping to spend a little more time with you before my idiot brothers found us,” Jason muttered into his cup. 
“Yeah, but you get to take me home when it’s all over and done with,” you reminded and took great pleasure in watching him get flustered. Clearing his throat, he took a sip from his cup before shooting you a dark look.
“Careful Little Bird, or you’re going to give a gentleman the wrong meaning,” he whispered. A shiver ran down your spine at the meaning and you quickly averted your gaze.
“Hey, Jason! So glad you made it,” one of his brothers said as they reached you. He patted Jason’s shoulder and he shrugged it off, frowning.
“It's not like Bruce gave me much of a choice,” he answered, “where is he anyways?”
“Taking care of last-minute details at work,” he answered, causing Jason to roll his eyes. You get the feeling they’re talking about something else. 
Minding your business, you take another sip, letting your gaze roam around the room. It only turned back when a hand was thrust in front of you.
You gazed at the hand and followed its path until you were met with the smiling brother. “Hello,” you greeted, hesitantly shaking the offered hand.
“Hi, who’s this Jay?” The brother asked. You squinted at him, recalling if you’ve ever met him before. You haven’t, but something about him seems familiar.
“My date,” he answered curtly. Letting go of your hand, you mourned the loss of contact until he wrapped his arm around your shoulder. “Y/N, this is Dick.”
“Dick Grayson at your service,” he greeted, smiling widely at you.
“Hi,” you repeated, squinting at him slightly. “You're the cop brother out in Bludhaven.”
Dick eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Yeah, that’s me. I didn’t know Jason talks about me.”
“Not just you,” you corrected, “he talks about all of his siblings.” And made a noise when you felt Jason pinch your side.
“All good things I hope,” a different brother said, popping his head out from behind Dick. “Tim Drake.”
“No, he usually complains about the shit you’ve guys pulled,” you said, making them laugh. “You’re the asshole who gave Conner my number.”
“That would be me,” he said proudly, grinning. “How’d you find out?”
“My sister’s dating Conner and she got it out of him,” you explained, “I hope you know I’m getting my revenge.”
Tim narrowed his eyes at you, as if he was sizing you up. You only raised an eyebrow and met his stare. “I doubt it,” he finally said with a snort.
“I don’t think you know who you’re messing with,” Jason said, “don’t underestimate them.”
“Why? Because they’re dating you?”
“Sir, I don’t need anyone to fight my battles for me,” you interrupted, “I’m the oldest of four, majoring in engineering. But you already know that since you’ve been snooping in my life.”
“Not much of a life though, is it?” 
“Maybe, and that’s okay,” you said with a shrug. “Though before you write me off, ask Conner what happened during spirit week his freshman year.”
That made him nervous, like he knew what you meant. Smiling sweetly, you reached out and patted his head. “You don’t want to make an enemy out of me,” you said and turned to the shorter of the group.
“Demon spawn?” you questioned without thinking. There was a brief moment of silence before everyone but you and the youngest started laughing. He scowled and you downed your drink wishing that it was something stronger. You set it down and hide your face in your hands, groaning. “Oh no, please don’t tell me I actually said that.”
“Sorry, sweetheart,” Jason apologized, but he didn’t sound apologetic at all. 
“You aren’t that far off though,” Tim piped up. 
“I am so so sorry,” you said, voice sounding a bit muffled, “I didn’t mean to say that, I don’t know why that came out.”
“I have no doubt that Todd had any help with that,” he said, clearing his throat he crossed his arms and introduced himself. “It's Damian Wayne, the only son of Bruce Wayne.”
“Y/N,” you muttered out, finally dropping your hands from your face. “And probably. Every time Jason talks about you, he doesn't say your name.”
“Okay, don’t tell them all my secrets now,” Jason teased, squeezing you into his sides. 
“The night’s still young,” Dick said with a smile, “who knows what secrets they might spill.”
You turned to Jason, and poked his cheek until he turned to look at you. “Shoot me, if I say anything embarrassing about myself or you tonight, just shoot me. I’m okay with that,” you said with a serious face. 
“Sorry sweetie, no can do,” he said with a smile. “I like you too much to do that.” Hanging your head in defeat, you sighed.
“Damn,” you sighed, “guess I’ll suffer then.”
“That’s okay, I’ll suffer with you,” Jason said, leaning over and hiding his face in his hair. You could feel the smile that he was trying to hide. 
“At least that’s a plus,” you couldn’t help saying. That caused another round of laughter. You smiled; happy it was going better than what you expected. “I thought you had another brother, and like two sisters?”
“We do, they just couldn’t make it today,” Dick was quick to say. You raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. 
“I thought it was a mandatory thing for your family. Having to come to these fancy parties.”
“Sometimes, but when Bruce gives some of us a free pass when the need arises,” Jason explained. “But I’m sure if they knew you’d be here, they’d be here too,” Jason quickly added when you frowned.
“Man, I was really hoping to actually meet Stephanie,” you said, and shrugged. “Maybe next time.”
“There you all are,” a voice called from behind. You all turned to see Bruce standing behind Dick, smiling. “Ah, you must be Y/N I’ve heard so much about.” You doubted that for a minute, knowing Jason isn’t one to share things with his family. Then you looked at Tim and things started to make sense. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
You shook his head when he offered, and smiled at it. “Nice to meet you too Mr. Wayne.”
“I’d love to stay and chat, but I need Jason for a moment,” he said, turning to Jason, “are you ready?”
“Do we really need to do this?” he asked, and made a face when Bruce nodded. “Alright. Are you going to be okay for a while?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” you reassured with a smile. “I’ll find you later.”
You were wrong, so very wrong. The minute Bruce and Jason left your hearing range, his brothers turned on you like vultures circling their next meal. You weren’t sure how long you stood there answering questions you didn’t know how to answer.
When you finally managed to escape, you took a breath and began your search for Jason. You found him talking with Bruce and a reporter. 
Quietly standing beside him, you grabbed his hand and ignored the conversation they were having. Jason squeaked your hand in acknowledgement, and you smiled, leaning your head on his arm.
After a moment, the reporter and Bruce excused themselves and Jason turned to you. “You doing okay?”
Taking back your hand, you moved it to cupped his cheeks and squished his cheeks together. Jason tried to smile, but it looked a little lopsided squished between your hands. “Never leave me alone with your brothers again.”
“It couldn’t have been that bad,” he muttered out with a laugh.
“They grilled me like I was a bad guy,” you said, “and I felt like it too. Jason, I am not the bad guy. I felt like one of those creeps that the heroes fight and needed information on something I couldn’t give them. I don’t want to feel like that again, had me questioning if I was right for you or not.”
“Not being overly dramatic?” Jason asked, and you squished his face more in retaliation. “Okay. I get it,” he said, grabbing your hands and moving them off his face. “That was wrong of them for making you feel like that. No one should go through what you just did.”
“Like I get, they’re your family and they want what’s best for you, you know? Like they care about you, and I get that Dick is looking out for you. But Tim? The dude told me I could do so much better than you and Damian? I’m pretty sure he said that you could do better than me? I don’t know, I stopped listening to them at a certain point.”
“Well, they shouldn’t have said that to begin with at all. And I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Jason said, you waved away his worry.
“No, no, you probably could. But that’s not the point, the point is they could be very good cops if they wanted to,” you said, “it felt like an interrogation. And I hope that I never have to do that again when I meet your sisters.”
“At this rate, I don’t think you will,” he said and you looked up at him in confusion. “Don’t worry about it. Come on, let's dance.”
“But I don’t know how to,” you said as Jason started pulling you to the dance floor.
“Don’t worry about it. All you have to do is follow my lead,” he said, twirling you around until you stood in front of him. You looked up, squinting at him. He laughed, guiding your hands to his shoulders before putting his hands on your waist. “Don’t look at me like that, I know how to dance.”
“Oh, I got that. I’m just surprised,” you said, doing as he said and following him as he started dancing.
“I’m full of surprises, Birdie.”
“So, how long do we have to stay here?” you asked after dancing in silence. Jason raised his eyebrows at you.
“You want to leave already? Feels like we just got here,” he countered. Shaking your head, you looked around before meeting his eyes.
“Don’t lie. I’m not sure how long we’ve been here but it has got to be an hour maybe,” you guessed, “and not yet. But I’m getting hungry and I haven’t found any food around. I thought they had food at these events.”
“They usually do,” he said, looking around to see if he could find any. “But it looks like they are either going to the kitchens to get some more, or there is none.”
“Man, that’s a shame. I’m starving.”
“I thought you ate earlier?”
“Nope. When you came over, I was taking a nap. I haven’t eaten since lunch, and even then, it was just a bag of chips,” you said. Jason sent you a disapproving look making you smile sheepishly. 
“You need to take better care of yourself. But we can leave whenever you’re ready.”
“I’ll leave when you’re ready too,” you said through a yawn. “Who knows? Maybe you have to do more interviews or speak to the crowd or something.”
“Nope, I’m done talking to people,” he explained, “all I have to do is stand beside Bruce when he’s giving the speech to everyone. After that we can leave.”
The two of you danced two move dances, before someone announced that Bruce had an announcement to make. You came to a stop, and you watched as Jason sighed. “Well, that’s my cue.”
“I’ll be standing front row where you could see me,” you reminded him, “I won’t be far.”
“You, Birdie are a godsend,” he said, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. “Don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Careful there, Jason. Treat someone like that, they’re gonna think they’re really special to you,” you retorted, reaching up to pat his cheek gently.
“Maybe they already are,” he said and left, leaving you flustered. You covered your face with your hands and silently screamed. There was something about Jason that made you feel cared for, and you weren’t quite sure how to deal with.
Pushing away those feelings for now, you collected yourself and turned to make your way towards the growing crowd.
After a minute of politely pushing your way through the crowd, you found yourself standing beside Jason's brothers. Not one to be rude, you smiled hello to them and turned to the front where Jason was standing a little bit behind Bruce. You gave Jason a small wave, which he returned before Bruce started talking.
You tried to listen as Bruce told the story he had come up with, but your mind kept wandering to your relationship with Jason, and where it might lead to. The thought of the future was scary, but you couldn’t see a future without him. Maybe the two of you were going a little fast, but you found that you didn’t care as much as you should.
If he’s the one, why overthink it?
Soon enough, clapping brought you out of your thoughts. Shaking your head, you joined in the clapping and slipped away from his brothers before they decided to go for a round two.
“Wasn’t so bad, right?” you asked once you reached him. He shrugged and grabbed your hand before pulling you towards an exit.
“Would have been a lot better if you were standing with me,” he answered, “but yeah. It was okay. Now, ready for some burgers?”
“More than ready.” 
168 notes · View notes
maximumkillshot · 6 months
Text
I Got You
Warnings: Mentions of Self-Harm, Cutting and the Like, some mentions of blood, Fluff, Protective boys honestly
Pairing: Changbin x Reader
Characters: Changbin, BangChan, Felix, OC Manager,
A/N: It's a comfort piece for @orchid-mantis-petals and everyone else struggling... You are a warrior... Don't forget it.
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‘This is bullshit!” You scream as you walk into the dorm. Slightly startling the inhabitants. 
Changbin rounds the corner to the living room where you just plopped, with creatine in hand, “You know hobbies are supposed to have the opposite effect on you, right, Jagi?” He knows you love doing your hobby. As much as you despise your job, if anything helps you, it's going out and indulging yourself. 
This was your only off day in the last two months. As much as you hate it, you need to be an adult, your words, not his. Your boyfriend and his friends know that he has offered thousands of times just to quit so that you can find a healthier job for you mentally, he’d take care of you. You just looked at him and said, “Yeah, no. I need to do things on my own, Binnie.” But this is what he was talking about. 
He put the supplement away and said, “Do you want to talk about it or give me an address so that I can put my muscles to good use?” as he sat, dragging you to his lap, “Because as much as I say I do it for the look, I do it to protect you. And someone hurt my Jagi so… You tell me who I need to beat up.”
You chuckled as you said, “They did it again…” 
Bin took a big breath and hissed out, “When you say ‘it’ you don’t mean scheduling you for a shift without telling you… right?”Then he took a breath and said, “Because if they did that then I… I am going to need addresses Jagi.”
Chan heard the big entrance and walked in from the bathroom, one look at Bin and he said, “Oh no.. okay how bad. On a scale of 1-10.” You could see that he just got out of the shower, some beads of water still clinging to his shoulders, sweatpants neatly tied on his hips.
Bin just looked at him and said, “They did it again…”
Chan’s face soured, “Oh ok so 11. Y/N. We talked about this.” he said as he crossed his arms. 
You see, this is a very common occurrence at your job. For some reason, they give you no notice and expect you to telepathically understand that you need to come in on your weekend. This pissed everyone off especially…
There’s a knock at the door and Felix just walks in… he takes one look at his Hyungs and he knows, especially with the frustrated tears that are now rolling down your cheeks. “What’s going on? What happened?”
He dropped the brownies he just baked in the kitchen and came back in. Bin wiped some of your tears away as he said, “They did it again.”
Felix is usually the nicest person in a room. His face however reflected nothing but disdain, “A day off is a day off…. How hard is it for them to get???” He wiped his forehead, trying to flatten the scowl he had on his face. 
“Guys it’s okay.” You said, knowing that all they are going to do is worry about you more.
Felix looked at you and said, “Actually not it isn’t, Cinnamon Roll. It’s not fucking okay. Not when you work so hard for so long that you can barely get out of bed… That is not okay.”
Chan said, “Okay screw this nooope.” He went into Bin’s room then his own and then his own. He emerged with his hoodie on and he threw the keys at Bin. “You are not going through this anymore, Angel. We told you. Naur.”
You looked and said, “Guys.”
Bin gently said, “Listen to me, okay. We talked about this. If they ever did this again, you said yourself that you couldn’t do it anymore. We told you, we are not going to let this happen, and you agreed, did you not?”
“Yes”
“Ookay so we are going right now. You’re done working there. Let’s go.” Bin left no room for discussion as you four piled into the car. These boys have seen you through it all, including passing out from exhaustion when they forced you to work doubles, and others spraining parts of your body you didn’t know you could sprain. That’s the times that are passing through Bin’s head. He hated seeing you like that… for a paycheck?? He couldn’t fathom it. Not when he makes enough and has a bed for you, a home if you say the word. No, he was done watching his Baby getting hurt for something he has plenty of. 
Chan was always worried sick about you. He knows about your history. He remembers the first times he noticed your scars. He didn’t pry, didn’t want you to feel bad. That made him fiercely protective of you. When you did tell him and you pulled up your right sleeve, he wanted to cry. He asked if he could touch it, and you said yes. He noticed some of them connected to make a pair of Angel wings. “Ah, you have the mark of an angel.” He traced it, “A warrior angel… You are so so strong… I’m gonna call you that, Angel.” Since then that has been your nickname.
Felix got so angry because he knew the trigger for you was emotion regulation, and while no one was watching you were digging into your right forearm with your left.  He caught you once, 5 weeks ago. He had tears in his eyes as he helped you clean it. He asked you how long, what triggered it, and how he could help. He just wanted to help his Cinamon Roll. He went with you to tell Bin of the relapse and since then at least 3 times a week he’s at your place, helping take your mind off of the stress, even if it means him staying with you until Bin comes to yours. 
He noticed in the car your left hand was scratching at the old scars again, he held his hand out and said, “hold my hand… I need affection.” as he fake cried. You giggled as you grabbed his hand, stopping the urge to fiddle. 
As soon as the car stopped Bin hopped out and opened the door for you. When they walked in Bin knew who he was looking for as your manager glared at you and said “You’re late.”
Bin laughed as he approached them, “late for what? Another shift you didn’t tell them about?”
They were speechless, as he continued, “Do you know what they go through for you? I love them so much and all you do is hurt them… That stops today, okay. No two weeks notice, no nothing.” 
Their jaw dropped and he said, “Oh doesn’t feel so nice does it? Not knowing if something was going to happen… Well your staff shortage, just got worse. If the last check isn’t in the mail on time, then we are coming back, and you will be dealing with 8 very pissed-off men who have a lot of connections and millions of people in their fanbase… Bad press wouldn’t begin to cover it. Okay? Am I clear?” 
They just nodded and he said, “Good. Jagia, do you have anything you need from your locker?” 
You said, “Yeah I do.”
Bin looked at Chan and he nodded, Chan switched out with Bin and said, “We’re going to have a little chat about leadership and manners. Okay?” 
Bin went to you and escorted you to get your things. Once you have everything you both went back to the front and signaled Felix and Chan to fall back. You couldn’t explain the relief as you walked to the car. When Felix and Chan got in the car. Bin opened the door for you. Before you got in he kissed your scars and said, “I love you… all of you, it’s over, okay? I got you.” Tears started to paint your face as he kissed you. Before he started crying he guided you in and closed the door. 
Right after he closed his door he said, “So I don’t know about everyone else but Y/N’s day is now free which means we go to their favorite pastry shop and get those Apple Cinamon Rolls and have a movie marathon. If you don’t like it too bad we are doing it anyway!!”
You started giggling as Chan cranked the stereo. You had a lot of things that you deal with yes, but this moment let you realize, that you weren’t going through it alone. Especially not with Binnie, Lixie, and Chan. ----------------------------------------------------------------
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170 notes · View notes
kivino · 6 months
Text
CLOSER || SLASHER!SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY X M!READER
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my masterlist
ao3 link to this fic
Word counter – ~2.9k
Tags/Warnings – very much dead dove do not eat, dealing with dark topics, stalking, unhealthy obsession, kidnapping.
Summary – You hear various dark rumors from your colleagues and you don’t believe them, until there is one particular ghost looking you right in the eye.
A/n – Fair warning, I am not trying to romanticize all those things. Requested by the anon from this post. Not proofread, so i'm very sorry if there are any mistakes.
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At first, you didn’t believe all the rumors about ghosts, ghouls, and serial killers scouring every corner of the town in the dark, scratching the brick walls and howling in the tight alleyways. Your coworkers who usually talked about that kind of stuff appeared like gossiping teenagers exchanging something they heard or saw. Whispering on their breaks over lunch, or in those hours when business in the little coffee shop you worked in was slow. 
You thought their talks about some boogeyman hunting on the streets for new victims each night were silly at their best, and just distracting at their worst. You, coincidentally, were also usually the one working night shifts, taking over them after your female coworkers kept complaining about some creep waiting around until the end of the shift and scaring the crap out of them. 
So, how could you not help your colleagues out in a dire situation like this? Those shifts paid more anyway, and you needed all the money you could get. And, to be completely honest, you enjoyed the night. The lack of annoying customers, who’d scream at you for getting their order wrong, not smiling or some other stupid bullshit (whatever it takes to get that glossy paper with the words “20% off”, right?) died down by the night, so it was a breeze. Of course, you’d have to clean up and prep so much stuff for the morning shift, but then again, it was better money. So you could do with stacking some cups and taking out the trash and so on. After closing, you’d walk out a bit tired, but still enjoying the fresh night air, that would knock out any insistent worry straight out of your mind. 
And oh, what a fool you were for that. 
Ghost wanted to laugh, really. It was very amusing to him when you’d bravely head out into the dark, back to your shitty rundown apartment complex, listening to your music in your silly little headphones and not paying enough attention. Not a fucking thought inside this handsome head sometimes. Just perfect. Ghost knew he liked you for a reason. Which, of course, your appearance wasn’t solely why he felt drawn to you like you were a damn magnet. 
At first, he didn’t even notice you. Out and about, searching for any potential victims. Which became harder and harder each time he got bored and finished off the last one – their names fading from his memory as soon as the ringing from their strained, ear-splitting screams died down to a complete silence. They were borderline shrieks of wild, trapped animals that rang in his mind endlessly, day and night, echoes waking him from his restless dreams and lulling him back to sleep. Eyes snapped from figure to figure – searching, looking like a hound dog for something, someone that could satiate his hunger for blood. 
Followed a potentially interesting target to a small, cozy-looking establishment. Tried to look around more, still not completely set on the decision to commit to them. But then he laid his eyes on you and felt that familiar buzz under his skin, the pleasant vibrations that spurred him on like a prized stallion during a race. His blood felt scorching hot in his own body, anticipation for the desired thrill of the hunt already boiling in his veins.  That’s who he needed.
The huge man would follow you home with light, silent footsteps, uncharacteristic for his burly form. He would observe you from the dark corners of the forest, from between trees bunched together in thick, impenetrable layers. Ghost would come in during different times of the day, but wouldn’t ask for you, in fear of drawing too much attention – your coworkers looked like the types to run their mouths for fun, so he figured they would snitch on him to you. And that would just spoil all the fun, wouldn’t it? But then Ghost started feeling something he never thought he would. The more his eyes went over your form, over and over, like fingers picking at a bloody scab, or a tongue grazing gums where the tooth is missing, the more Ghost felt that ache poke needles through his skin, then change and transform into unfamiliar shapes and forms. Prickling on his insides, thorns gashing and bleeding his heart dry, his mind reeling at the mere sight of you in this stupid uniform, or just going about your business, and not knowing what kind of predator was following close behind in the shadows.
He craved more than your blood, your skin, and your smell on his knife, pooling between his fingers and onto the dirty floor of the basement. Etching scarlet lines into your sole being, slicing, cutting, and handling you like he would a piece of precious wood for his woodcarving projects. Ghost’s mind would go rampant with various images of you being with him. Not a victim, but a companion. A worthy one at that. The one Ghost deserves, with your presences intertwining until you two could not be separated from one another, grown together so deeply that you’d find parts of yourselves in each other wherever you’d look.
The only wish Ghost had was to be consumed by you wholly. And to consume you was a natural outcome of that. You’ll come around eventually. One way or another.
The images of his previous trophies resurfaced like thin, melting ice from fresh lake water. Each and every single one of them was an animal. In their life and their death. Scared but swift rabbits. Talkative crows that liked shiny things. Rabid hyenas that bared their teeth at him in a taunting grin. Gorgeous pheasants with their gentle coos. All of them so different, yet same in their dullness and lack of something Ghost was searching for in his prey.
You though, you were special. That’s why Ghost didn’t want to kill you, oh no. He wanted to keep you. All to himself. Lock you up like a wild bird in a golden, intricate cage and hear you sing lullabies and arias for him, and only him. Not for your stupid friends. Not for your idiot classmates. And not for your lazy ass coworkers. Only for him. 
So naturally if he wanted this songbird to be his, he had to get to work. Simon was a man of his words and actions, but Ghost preferred to act, rather than talk. First things first – he had to prepare a “cage”. One where you won’t escape from. One that will keep you safe from any harm. But not from him. He’d never harm you, in a million years. Ghost had to rearrange a room in the basement for that. And while it took some time and care, his feelings only grew stronger, when he would move and carry around so much stuff he had piling up in that dusty room. Then he had to know your schedule by heart, to know when and where he’ll be able to finally get his hands on the beloved songbird. It turned out to be pretty easy, Ghost got it down in a week and everything was working out perfectly. Finally, he had to catch you. Which, he was working on right now.
He waited until the perfect moment came to strike, like a hunter he was. One chance, that’s all it is going to take. And you’ll be his. His gut stirred with anticipation and excitement, that familiar buzz intensifying with each second, he waited to finally start his pursuit while hiding in the darkness. If it was anyone else but you the chase would’ve been lethal. For you, he had to contain his strength. Balling his fists together, beaten and bloody under the rough fabric of his gloves, he could easily snap a neck or break some fingers with the sheer power contained inside of his body, trained and adapted into the perfect shape for his…line of work and “hobbies”. For your sake, Ghost will have to use less force, for once in a long time. You’re only worthy while you’re alive.
The whole shift you felt like something was wrong. That sudden gut feeling, along with impending doom and anxiety that ate away at you was overtaking slowly but surely. Every second ticking away on the digital clock near the register only stretched that unusual, weird feeling like something (you weren’t sure what) was going to happen to you. You even felt a bit of cold sweat pop up right on your forehead, and the worst thing is, you couldn’t even point out what exactly threw you off your usual rhythm. So, all you had left to do was try to pretend like there wasn’t a whole hurricane of worry and panic bubbling inside of you.
You felt like you could snap any minute now from how tense you were. Intuition wasn’t your best suit, but you could not ignore a gut feeling so strong that you felt like vomiting up your lunch each time you were left in silence, alone with your thoughts, that spun around a variety of outcomes where you ended up dead on the side of the road because you didn’t listen to that gnawing dread curled inside your gut.
And you should’ve, really.
Maybe then you wouldn’t have been in the position that you’re in right now. Your chest and throat hurt, cold air burning with every shallow and quick inhale, as you ran, as fast as you could, blood pulsing in your ears with increasing pressure. You were pretty sure your heart was about to jump out of your chest. If it wasn’t for your headphones running out of battery and you having to walk back without any music you wouldn’t have heard the quiet, rapidly approaching footsteps. You couldn’t see your pursuer, too focused on the road, or lack thereof in front of you.
Why did you think dipping into the dark grove at the first opportunity to lose the person who was following you was a good idea? Your feet stumbled over the thick roots that webbed the fresh, wet ground, moonlight barely managed to pierce through the thick layer of leaves overhead and it seemed like any animal in your close vicinity disappeared, with how eerily quiet everything was, safe for your heaving and wheezing, that easily gave away your position.
You’re scared, oh, you’re so fucking scared you could feel the way hairs all over your body stand up from the terror, unknown follower sparkling fear so primal your thoughts are reduced to barely a semblance of your usual self.
You could hear the crunch of the leaves under your shoes, vines, and branches smacking you, as you ram through them in your attempt to get away, to save yourself from whatever wild beast was chasing you, whose heavy breath you could almost feel on the nape of your neck. You were pretty sure your face got smacked by another thorny vine, this time delivering a harsh, stinging cut that made you wince. You didn’t slow down, however, adrenaline made you push yourself to surprising lengths, that you didn’t think were possible in a normal, safe environment. The cut felt warm. You were pretty sure it started bleeding.
That is until your foot slips and you feel everything going upside down, crashing onto you, sharp pain digging into your sides, as you tumble down. And from water in your nose, eyes, and airway, you can give a wild guess that you fell into some kind of creek. If it’s true, then your clothes and your backpack are most likely busted. You try to get up, but your hands slide over slick, wet rocks on the bottom of the stream, making you slip back into the water and sending you into a whole coughing fit, bitter water resting on your tongue like a layer of algae. You yank your foot from under some rock, desperately trying to listen to the footsteps that at the moment were as loud as hell’s bells for you, stumbling to your feet, and through the thick darkness, you see that the path ahead will only be uphill. The ground is wet and muddy, but you don’t care, hands and nails digging into it, crawling upwards as fast as you can. You feel yourself grow cold when you hear a quiet slide and feel a hand grab you by your leg.
And then you start kicking, screaming, howling until a bitter burn on your throat makes you cough, spreading the sharp pain with every collapse of your chest. Fingers digging into the fresh mud and leaves, raking through them, earth sticking to the underside of your nails, as you try to grapple onto something, anything, to hold onto and save yourself from the iron hold on your ankle. Your heart is beating so fast you can hear it pumping the blood through every single artery and vein, and you’re sure that animalistic fear is being spread through your body along with it.
“Sing for me, boy. Nobody will hear you.” The man’s voice, devoid of emotions, littered with deep sighs and grunts of exertion rumbled from above you, as he dragged you down from the insignificant height you managed to climb.
“Fuck off! Let go of me!” You scream, your body contorted into a bizarre shape as you turn your head, trying to catch a glimpse of the man and correct the aim of your kicks. Your neck was weeping in pain and strain, along with every other muscle in your body. Fear scorched your insides. This was it for you, truly. Nobody will find your body in this stupid fucking forest and you’re just going to become the food for local fauna. Beautiful.
You expected anything – harsh blows to the back of your head, being drowned inside this shallow creek, stabbed to death, until you paint the water red, getting your head bashed in, or even shot like a rabid, stray dog who had no one to care for it. Instead, you’re getting your hands and legs tied together, and the man throws you over his shoulder, despite your attempts to scratch or punch him. You scream and cry, burning your throat raw, kicking and writing in the hold of the unknown person. Chanting harsh insults, and trying to kick or punch didn’t work either, but you didn’t care. You weren’t about to find out more about the local serial killer. However, no matter your intentions, you could not see where you were going, dark earth being the only thing in front of your eyes. Your thoughts and presence float far away from here, as the man brings you somewhere, jabbing a needle with something that makes you light-headed and sleepy.
When you finally wake up you’re changed from your dirt-stained, wet clothes, with your body aching like no tomorrow and the cut on your face dressed. The room has barely any light in it, and you feel the warm covers enveloping you, reminding you of home until you turn your head and see…something. Someone. His presence is enough to send shivers through your body.
He’s sitting by the bed you’re tucked into. Skull mask. Large, looming figure. Dark eyes gleaming right at you. You feel your face contorting into an angry scowl when you look at him and try to get out of bed. He doesn’t move. You get yanked back, and promptly turn your head again, feeling the muscles in your back and neck ache. Your hand is cuffed to the radiator. You feel a rough lump in your throat rise and drowsiness floating away. It doesn’t quite sink in yet, but you could feel the anxiety forming once again in the pit of your stomach and that lump rising as if you’re about to vomit whatever was left of your insides.
You hear the man get up from his chair with a quiet shuffle and the squeak of the chair legs on the floorboards. You flinch back, your back pressing into the warm metal of the radiator, almost burning the skin through your clothes. The bed dips down under the weight of the man. He’s not taking away his eyes from you, even for a second. It makes you want to crawl under the blanket that is now resting at your feet, just to hide from the piercing, heated gaze that you want to avoid at any cost.
You close your eyes, trying to calm down and think about anything else, but what surrounded you. Which proved impossible the moment you felt a rough, calloused hand shift from its position on the bed and rest on the side of your face. Warm, scorching fingers stroking your cheek gently, like that same hand wasn’t just dragging you through water and muck in the shallow forest creek.
Ghost felt…Good. Despite the bad first impression, he was sure that he was on the right track. Your skin felt divine, your beautiful eyes made him want to keep you here forever and never let go. And the way you looked while sleeping made him want to abandon observing altogether and crawl into the bed with you, caging in a tight, bone-crushing embrace that would show you just how much he craves you. But for you, it would probably be too fast, too shocking. For now, just being able to look at you and touch you was enough.
Maybe, if Ghost had a little more bravery he would whisper:
“You’re mine, songbird. Forever”
But for now, it’ll do. You’ll come around. One way or another.
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sassycheesecake · 7 months
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Uncle!Osamu who has just having a regular day at his onigiri restaurant when the entrance doorbell chimes, followed by squeals of excitement of a twin pair, one boy, one girl.
The gray-eyed man looks at the direction of the voices, happy to see his niece and nephew again after not seeing them for almost two weeks.
The girl of the twin pair has dark brown hair and your eyes, while the boy has your hair color and hazel brown eyes.
Today, both of them are wearing matching MSBY training suits, a gift from uncle Hinata and uncle Bokuto.
As uncle!Osamu engulfs the five-year-olds in a big hug, his brother walks in, a tired look adorning his usual confident, cheeky expression.
Now Atsumu Miya, Setter of the MSBY Black Jackals looks like he hasn’t slept properly in a couple months.
He looks like he's been through hell and as a father, he is more than justified to look like hell.
After all, he was a child once and along with Osamu they both always got into trouble. His mother was a single parent and how she managed two raise two boys with a job all by herself without having to give up the twins for adoption is still a mystery to Atsumu.
As Osamu looks at his brother, he notices that the Setter's hair is unruly, he has dark circles under his eyes and is looking at his children with a scolding look on his face.
"I told ya brats a million times not ta run across the street when we go see uncle Samu. If ya get hit by a car, mommy will kill me and marry yer uncle instead."
"Would that be so bad?" Osamu grins in mischief at his twin, letting go of the kids, who apologize to their father with apologetic and guilty looks.
"Shut yer trap, I am too tired ta deal with ya right now. I came ta ask for a favor." Atsumu trots over to the bar stools in front of the counter, ignoring the hushed whispers of excitement from some of the costumers.
"Don’t curse in front of yer kids, they’ll pick up that habit. What do ya want?" Osamu turns around to prepare some lunch for his niece and nephew.
"Can ya watch the kids this weekend? I have been wantin' some alone time with (Y/N) and these little shits interrupt every damn time." The blonde leans over the counter and quietly hisses at the ravenette.
"Sorry, but no." Osamu declines.
"Please, please, pweeeeeaaaaaase can ya watch ‘em this weekend? I can’t even remember the last time I had sex with (Y/N)! And my dick is about to fall off from the pent up frustration of games, takin’ care of the kids and tryin’ ta get alone time with my wife!"
Osamu huffs annoyed at his plea, he already has plans for the weekend, sleeping in, to be more precise.
"Welcome to family life. I can’t Tsumu. I already have plans." The ravenette explains, giving each of the twins a pair of grilled salmon cream cheese onigiris, your favorite and also the twins’.
"Oh yeah? What do ya have planned huh? Ya got no marriage, no kids, no responsibilities, if I remember correctly. I call bullshit." Atsumu stares at his brother with a skeptical expression, seeing that Osamu is walking to the back, he decides to follow after him into the back, telling his offspring to stay put.
"I really want ta sleep in this weekend and I have been wantin’ to ask that girl out from the book store down the street. The brunette I told ya about?" Osamu takes a few bags of rice and hands it to his brother, who takes them without hesitation.
"The only thing that’s in my memory department right now is the Paw Patrol intro theme song, along with ‘We don’t talk about Bruno’ in like 15 different languages."
To be honest, Osamu is glad that he doesn’t have kids yet.
Taking two more bags, both brothers make their way to the kitchen area, where Osamu starts up a few new batches of cooked rice.
Atsumu also puts the rice bags down, staring almost pleadingly at his brother.
"Do ya want me ta go down on my knees for ya and beg? I ain’t asking for much, just please, watch them this weekend. Just one weekend. I really need it and so does Atsumu junior."
"Please don’t talk about yer dick in my product storage, ya will ruin my food." Osamu scoffs in disgust.
"Seriously, what do I gotta do ta make ya watch 'em? Name it." Atsumu keeps trying to persuade his brother.
Osamu pretends to think and after watching his brother who looks so desperate it's almost funny, sighs in defeat and agrees to watch the little rascals this weekend.
"Fine, I'll watch 'em this weekend but ya owe me. That was ma only free weekend in a while."
"Whatever ya want bro, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!" Atsumu jumps up and down in excitement like a little kid and hugs his brother while he jumps and down.
"Get off of me, ya dumb idiot. I'll said I'll watch 'em for a weekend, not adopt them." Osamu shoves his brother off and straightens out his cooking uniform.
Atsumu literally glows in excitement and happiness and immediately calls his wife, walking back out to check on his children.
As Osamu watches him leave, he sighs deeply.
What have I gotten myself into?
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baohanhanesel · 3 months
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Valeria Garza x Ally Reader
Just Valeria and Reader bantering. Valeria likes Reader a bit too much for her own liking.
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She always had cold hands. It wasn't anything new to her. She always felt the need to tuck her hands in her pockets but never once did they ever remain warm.
She was used to it. The feeling of cold fingertips was never surprising to her. It was her usual.
It never bothered her until you decided to lean down and take a hold of her gun.
You didn't work for her, you were only a temporary ally. One that never took her bullshit and always acted on your own. She didn't have the best impression of you. Same went for you. You weren't a fan of her, to put it nicely.
"Tuck it down, darling." You told her with a mocking smile. "We are about to negotiate. Not to declare war."
Valeria gave you a cold look, and nodded her head at you. A deadly stare, which sent chills down your spine. Not enough to have you take a step back, but enough to shut your mouth.
"Give it here." Valeria snatched the gun from your hand again. And when she got it back, the handle was warm. She held onto it tightly, the warmth was pleasant against her cold skin.
The comfort it offered her hand bothered her because it came from you.
You were like the damn sun for her. Something she is unable to avoid. You burned everything you touched, and seeing as the saying wasn't only metaphorical made her grumble. The gun in her hand remained warm when she tucked it in the holster again.
"Woke up from the wrong side of the bed, didn't you?" You walked past her, to the meeting room the negotiation will be carried out.
"Aren't you a sweetheart." Valeria rolled her eyes, but followed you suitly.
The negotiation wasn't what you'd call beneficial. The company owners owed you a big sum of money, and they were only putting the payment up. Making you give them more time to bring it. You begrudgingly agreed. You couldn't demand anything in Valeria's presence. You were allies, you didn't want to come off selfish with any decision so you let it go. For now.
"Talk about waking up from the wrong side" Valeria pushed her seat back to look at you, the meeting room emptied before you knew it.
"Excuse me?"
"That's what you said, chiquita. ¿No fue así?(Wasn't it?)"
You huffed, rubbing your temples and looking at the key in Valeria's hand. She was playing with it absentmindedly, probably waiting for you to open the topic so you can talk. You didn't feel like discussing business.
You grabbed her key, she grabbed your hand.
"What is it now?" She looked straight into your eyes, trying to ignore the warmth of your hands burning her skin. You felt too comfortable for her liking. You were running warm, and it made Valeria want to curl her fingers in your palm. To warm her entire hand.
"Impulsive thoughts." You smiled. It was a way to say fuck you in Valeria's face. To show that you do what you want to do. You wanted to grab her keys, you did. "Will you let my hand go, darling? I am afraid I am not ready for such commitment yet."
This made Valeria laugh at your face, letting your hand go.
Despite the laugh, she was dreading the feeling. She wanted your hand on her. But knew the consequences of it. Wanting you, the sun, to touch her was a dead wish. You burnt the people you were close to. There was no good that could come her way if it was you. Yet she had this coldness in her, one that could only be warmed up by you.
The next time she felt you again was an entire month later. You grabbed her arm to pull her away from a gunshot. Your hand where it held her burned. You were so warm, and she subconsciously leaned into it.
"Almost lost you there."
"What would you do without me" Valeria grabbed your wrist and ran away with you. Speaking to her coms and trying to take a hold of the situation.
"I knew they'd betray the deal." You grumbled, feeling the cold of Valeria's hand on your wrist. Your skin was warming her, and you could feel the pleasant tingle of her cool skin.
"Malditos idiotas... (Damn morons)"
You held her hand, slipping her hold from your wrist and holding into her cold hand. She was taken aback by the sudden hold. It was a gentle gesture for an outsider, but to both of you it was yet another way to tell fuck you. That she wouldn't lead you, but you would.
Valeria's heart thumped against her chest. She was getting more than she was bargaining for and you wouldn't hear a peep from her if it meant you would be giving her your touch. So she accepted the fuck you and acted nonchalantly.
"I'll have their heads." She said. And you couldn't agree more.
"So you can be romantic," You mused. This wasn't the best thing to say while holding her hand but... It was too late.
"You know nothing, senorita. Let me and I'll show you just how romantic I can be."
"Beg. And maybe I will."
She shook her head, laughing. You were in dangerous waters.
You were away from the commotion, your fingers entangled and shoulders touching. It felt right, Valeria wanted to risk everything just to have more. But it wasn't worth the risk of taking a step closer to you. She preferred to have some of you, rather than nothing at all.
Within another thirty minutes and Valeria talking to her comms, everything settled down. This entire time your hand was on your gun, securing her left and right.
After you were sure the attack was over, you let her go. You walked away to your own men, demanding answers about the sudden commotion.
Valeria still felt the warmth in her hands.
And it didn't cool down for forty minutes. The forty minutes where she couldn't stop thinking about you. The same forty minutes she wanted nothing but to burn if it meant holding you just a bit longer.
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dizscreams · 1 year
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Hi!! i love your writing! if you were taking requests i was if you could with chad? maybe something along the lines with the reader being insecure about herself? like chad is obviously a god in a mans body and she just feels like he needs someone better than her, so she starts to maybe pull back and change? thank you sm in advance :)
My Girl — Chad Meeks ★
PAIRING: Chad Meeks x Fem!reader
WARNINGS: lots of negative self talk and not thinking your good enough that kinda stuff but fluffy ending
A/N: kind of a long one, enjoy babes 🫡
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You played with the rings on your fingers as you stared at the ceiling. Chad was out at a party that he dragged Ethan, Tara, Quinn, Anika, and Mindy too. You didn’t feel like going and muttered some excuse of not feeling well, though you were fine. Well physically at least, mentally you were struggling. You’ve felt so insecure and undeserving of love lately and you didn’t know how to bring it up with your boyfriend, Chad.
You sighed and rolled over, pulling the blanket over you, and looking at your phone. You’ve been refreshing your friend’s story all night and it only made you feel worse. Chad was always friendly, a bit too friendly, and what doesn’t help with that is that he’s also extremely oblivious. So he can’t really tell when another girl is flirting with him but you’ve been looking at it through other peoples stories and posts all night.
There’s this one girl that keeps talking and getting too close to him, touching him and whispering stuff in his ear, and she was gorgeous. You started to tear up thinking about it, sure maybe it was stupid, but it made you want to puke. You stood up and waddled over to the tall stand up mirror you had in the corner of your room. What hurt even more was that they’d look good together, way better than you and Chad. There was no hiding Chad was good looking, everyone knew it, everyone could see it. You always thought he deserved someone more.
But he chose you and he tells you that all the time. He wants you. It was enough to calm you down at the time until you heard some girls talking about it in the bathroom once. Talking about how Chad needed someone prettier and more popular and preppy, and all that dumb bullshit. You didn’t care about designers, or how many likes you got on an instagram post, you didn’t care about frat parties, any of that. That’s what drew Chad to you, you were so much different than the people he usually surrounded himself with and he liked it.
He liked how normal he felt around you, how carefree and loved he felt. He didn’t care what you looked like, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t think you’re breath taking. He adores you, he adores everything about you. You knew that cause he told you constantly. That boy is always showering you with compliments. So why wasn’t it enough for you anymore? Why did you constantly feel less than compared to him? You knew it wasn’t his fault. You wiped a few tears that had managed to fall down your cheeks and climbed back into bed. You ended up overthinking and crying yourself to sleep.
-
“Hellooo, I’m home!” Chad walked into the apartment and locked the door. “Y/n?” He tried calling for you again since he didn’t hear your voice. Maybe you were asleep? He curiously opened the door to your room and quietly entered. He saw you sleeping, phone in hand, and your face looked wet? He curiously got closer and examined your features, your cheeks were stained with tear streaks and your mascara was a mess. You’d definitely been crying. He frowned and looked at the time, 1 am. Shit, he was late again. He didn’t know if he wanted to wake you up or not.
You looked so peaceful. He decided to not wake you and instead gently wiped the tears and mascara off your pretty face and got dressed in more comfortable clothes before joining you in the bed. He wrapped his arms around your waist protectively and pulled you closer. He made a mental note to take you out on a nice date soon. Maybe you were crying cause you were stressed? You had complained about your classes and exams lately. That had to be it. He kissed your head and started to drift off to sleep. He’d talk to you about it tomorrow.
-
You groaned as you woke up to the blinding sun in your eyes. As you tried to get up you felt a force pull you back. You looked back to see your boyfriend asleep and remembered the events of last night. You wondered what time he ended up coming home. You were asleep by 12 so it had to be late. What kept him? Maybe he ended up doing something with that girl. But it’s Chad, he wouldn’t do that. Right? Your thoughts were interrupted by a yawn from Chad. He looked at you and smiled, “Hi baby.” You tried giving him a smile back, “Morning.”
He frowned at your coldness but didn’t say anything about it, “C’mon I’ll make you breakfast,” he said while standing up. “Okay,” you nodded and got up to walk towards the kitchen. He watched you walked away, not even a hug or a kiss for him? He stretched and went to the kitchen. You were sitting down at the table. “What are you hungry for?” You shrugged at the question, “I don’t know, it doesn’t matter.” He opened the cabinet and stared for a moment, deciding if he wanted to confront you about your attitude or not.
He sighed, “What’s gotten into you? Are you okay?” You looked at him with an expression he couldn’t read, “I’m fine.” He scoffed, “You’re obviously not fine. Just tell me what’s wrong, babe,” he said with a soft tone. He cared. He sounded like he cared. Just tell him, he’ll understand. Your thoughts raced and you bounced your foot up and down as your fingers tapped the table anxiously. “Last night. Did you do anything..with another girl?” You asked slowly, not meeting his gaze. Chad gaped at you. How could you think that?
Why would you think that? You trusted him didn’t you? “Are you serious?” His voice was louder than he intended, “How could you ask me that?” You bit your lip and stood up, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said anything-,” you try walking away but Chad quickly grabs your hand and pulls you back to him. You look up at him and he notices the tears that are rolling down your cheeks. “Hey hey hey hey, what’s wrong?” His gaze softens and he cups your cheeks. “I’m sorry I’m really sorry Chad.” He pulls you into a hug while you sob in his chest.
You broke. You don’t know why but you did. You could tell he was hurt by your words, you could tell he cared and that made you feel stupid. “Deep breaths. That’s it,” he rubbed your back in small circles, “Good, in and out.” You hold him tighter. You didn’t deserve him. He was so loving and kind even after you accused him of something like that. You still feel like you aren’t good looking enough for him but maybe you can talk to him about it. He takes note of your breathing slowing down a bit and he pulls away from you. “Why don’t we go sit on the couch, yeah?”
You nod and he takes your hand, leading you to the couch. He sits down and you sit down next to him. He wraps an arm around you and kisses your head, “Can you tell me what’s been bothering you lately?” He asks, his voice just above a whisper. You look at him teary eyed and let out a shaky breath, “I feel like I’m not good enough for you.” If you weren’t sitting right next to him Chad doesn’t think he’d be able to hear you. “What are you talking about?” He says looking at you concerned.
“You could have someone prettier than me. A lot prettier. All the girls on campus are gorgeous and they want you. So why did you choose me?” You ask curiously, meeting the baffled look on his face. “I chose you because I love you. I love everything about you. You’re funny, you’re kind, you’ve been there for me when I’ve needed you, you like the same nerdy shit I do,” you chuckle at his response but he keeps going, “You’re beautiful you know that? Everything about you. You will always be enough for me, I couldn’t give a fuck less about anyone else. Just you, you’re all I need,” he tells you like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
You give him a genuine smile and he nudges you playfully, “There it is. I love your smile,” he says before kissing you softly. You melt into the kiss and it’s then when you realize how much your boyfriend loves you. You pull back and kiss his cheek, “Thank you, I’m sorry for being dumb.” He shakes his head and laughs, “It’s okay. It’s my job to reassure you.” He kisses you again in the same gentle way as before and you wrap your arms around his neck.
He pulls back and kisses your head, then your cheeks, your nose, under your eyes, your neck, and then your lips again, making sure to add an exaggerated mwa sound at the end of each kiss. “Chad stop,” you giggle. He smiles and quickly kisses you again, “You’re just so pretty I can’t help it.”
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one of my fun little late night fics 😙 goodnight everybody I’ll write smth tmr to make up for this weekend (hopefully)
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Aidlyn Oneshot
Transferring my fics to this blog
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Ashlyn couldn’t stay awake in school. Her head kept dropping to her desk like she was made of metal and the table was a magnet. 
These past few months of dealing with this bullshit nightmare world, she had never been so exhausted. 
During lunch, she sat with the others. They didn’t look much better. Well, except Aiden, of course. She wondered if he chugged energy drinks or if he was just always like this. She really hoped it was the former, because the idea of him always managing to be like this pissed her off. 
“Ok, so..” Tyler said, pinching his brow. “We need to get more ammo.. Ashlyn, your dad got that covered?”
She simply nodded in response before she sighed and rubbed her head and stood up. “I’m gonna go get another bottle of water..” she mumbled. 
Aiden also got up. “I will too!” He said happily. 
She scowled at him, but she was too tired to say anything. Things had been a little.. strange between the two of them after Aiden had saved her from that phantom on the rooftop. He had been so much softer and.. touchy (well, he was already very touchy, but he seemed to have amped it up to 11). And with the whole ‘Tyler on the hospital’ thing, they hadn’t really had anytime to fully process that night, except for that one time they talked and Aiden had reached out to touch her face, which was very weird to her. She didn’t really know how to act around him now. 
She wanted to still hate him, but she knew that he had a soft spot, and that made him more.. endearing. Ugh.. she did not want to think of Aiden like that..
She grabbed a bottled water from the school concession stand. Aiden did not. 
“Aren’t you going to get a water?” She asked him hoarsely. 
“Hmmm.. I’m not thirsty!” He said cheerfully. 
She stared at him, wanting to thump his forehead. But she decided he wasn’t worth the effort. 
“Then why did you follow me here?” She grumbled. 
He glanced at her and then looked around and then back at her. “Come with me.”
She was about to object, but she didn’t get the chance as he walked ahead of her. 
Part of her was just wanting to ignore him and walk back to the table. But she found herself following him. They entered a cleared out hallway, no students around. 
“What is it?” She asked. 
He opened a locker, his locker, and pulled out a can of coffee. 
“I snuck out during 3rd period to get you this!” He said with a jovial smile. 
She was caught off guard. She took the coffee, happy it wasn’t an energy drink (she hates those things). 
It was a black coffee too. Aiden must know she hates all that sweetener. 
“But.. why?”
He laughed and scratched his head. “Because you’ve looked absolutely dead. Well, more dead than you usually do, haha!”
She nearly crushed the can in her hands. 
He laughed and quickly shook his head. “Sorry, sorry! Nooooot funny.”
The two stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say. 
“Hey, um..” he started. “I just want you to know.. you’re doing great..”
She’s surprised by his sudden soft attitude. He used to rarely ever be like this.. so genuine. Then again, she rarely is ever, so maybe she’s a tad jealous that it’s been getting easier for him..
She opened the coffee can and hesitated to respond. She was unsure of what to say. “Thank you”? “Well, I try”? “I know I am”?
She bit her lip, thinking, before blurting out “It’s just my job as the leader..”
He seems surprised and she silently cursed to herself for just speaking without thinking. 
He shook his head. “I didn’t mean in the dream world. I think you already know you’re amazing there. I mean.. in our day to day lives..”
“Hm..?”
He hesitated before slapping on that normal smile of his. Fake and creepy. 
“Forget about it! Cmon, the others are probably wondering what’s taking us so long!”
He walked ahead of her. She didn’t follow immediately. She stared at the coffee and clutched it in her hands. 
Why is this so hard for me? It seems easier for him..
But.. little did Ashlyn know that Aiden was just as clueless about friendship as she was. 
————————————————————
Aiden walked back to the lunch table, quietly scolding himself. 
Why can’t you just say what you’re thinking?! All these words I want to say are so much easier to say in my head!
He reached the table and everyone looked at him curiously. 
“Where’s Ashlyn?” Taylor asked. 
“She’s coming,” he said, resting his chin on his hand. 
And sure enough, Ashlyn arrived, taking her spot again. 
“What took you guys so long?” Tyler asked. 
“Just bestie things!” Aiden said happily. He was glad he was so good at concealing his feelings and that no one knew how absolutely embarrassed he was about the interaction he just had with his crush. 
Ashlyn stared at him with mild contempt before turning away from the others to drink her coffee. 
He really wished he could eloquently say what he thought. 
He wanted to tell her he liked that way her red hair fell into her face when she turned away during an awkward situation. He wanted to tell her he thought her super hearing was super rad, but how he also was willing to take her to a quiet place if it got too overwhelming. He wanted to tell her he thought it was badass how she could smash things with a single kick. 
But most of all..
He wanted to tell her she wasn’t alone. 
And after the Tyler incident, she’s seemed even more closed off and guilt ridden than usual. 
He sighed. His friends turned to him, wondering what’s got him so daydreamy. He just smiled at them and they decided to forget it. 
Well..
Maybe one day he could find the words. 
But it certainly won’t be anytime soon. 
Ashlyn’s got her own problems to worry about. 
So, he’ll just stand next to her and support her throughout everything. Even if she wants to do it all alone. 
After all… he can’t let his best friend carry so much on her shoulders!
Divider by @cafekitsune
127 notes · View notes
foli-vora · 11 months
Note
Congrats on 3k, lovely!!!!
Can I have “you know where to find me.” with Dave York?
Pls turn my pelvis into dust. Your Dave is AMAZING.
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My love. Thank you for your never ending support and love. I am honoured you enjoy my Dave! I apologise for the delay, and I hope you enjoy! ❤️
A sidenote: Yes, I'm slowly making my way through these requests. Yes, they are incredibly late. Yes, we're ignoring the fact I'm well over 3k now LMAO.
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your taste i crave
dave york x f!reader
word count: 1.3k warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY. semi public sex/workplace sex, rough unprotected p in v, brief talk of choking, vague descriptions of toy use, use of tie as a gag, creampie, oral sex (f), cum eating, a brief thigh nibble, dave's messy idc
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The edge of the copier is harsh where it digs into your stomach, but you can’t find it in you to care—not when he’s moving like this, not when his hands are locked on your hips, keeping you at his complete mercy as he takes what he wants.
He’s so fucking rough, and if you didn’t have the tight pull of his work tie around your mouth and making words practically impossible, you’re absolutely positive you’d be begging him for more.
You don’t think it will ever be enough.
Instead, all that falls from your parted, restrained lips are muffled whines and broken moans when he hits that spot that’s almost too far. It sends a jolt of pain through your system, rocketing up your spine and bringing your body harder against the machine in an effort to escape the intense sensation, but it’s quickly replaced with more heat, more need.
He merely drags you back against him each and every time, his neatly trimmed nails pressing indents into the fleshy skin of your waist as he moves behind you with tightly restrained grunts, the slap of his hips meeting your ass echoing in the small copy room.
Despite the time of day, with most of the office having enough and retreating home, there’s not much time left.
Beyond the dizzying, overwhelming feel of him rutting into you without abandon; cock so fucking solid, so goddamn thick; and bringing a flood of tears to your lash line, you know it can’t last—not like it usually does.
He’d still want to go back to work—most likely for the rest of the evening, the strict borderline obsession with his career rendering him unable to leave the mountains of work flooding his desk.
So there’s no room for build up here. No time for teasing. No long, blissful drawn out torture of him bringing you to the edge only to stop at its peak again and again.
This is about release. This is about working and relieving the tension that had been slowly building across his broad shoulders with every bullshit thing that had happened today and granting him a clearer head for the hours left at the office. This is about him, and you’re only too happy to oblige.
“Might—fuck… might have to–to make this a regular work thing,” he grits out, hand curling around the back of your blouse and tugging roughly at it until your back is pressing against his chest.
The silk collar of it cuts into the soft flesh of your throat, and you want to ask for more.
Maybe his hand? His long thick fingers curling around the width of it and giving it that perfect squeeze that borders on too much but is always just enough.
Maybe his belt? The worn, cared for leather smooth against your skin as it tightens and tightens, slowly pushing your lungs to the max until you’re weeping from the irresistible assault of sensations.
The gag wound tight around your mouth makes it impossible to get the words out, and his mouth latches onto the curve of your shoulder, nipping and biting at the skin until it feels raw. You stretch out for more, his lips soon running hungrily along the expanse of your throat.
Close.
He’s getting close.
You know it, you can feel it.
You can feel it in the way his already bruising grip tightens just that little more. You can feel it in the way his breath starts to catch where it ghosts your skin, sticking in his throat and coming out in shorter pants as he chases the promise of that sweet, sweet high.
You can’t speak, can’t utter a single fucking word to coax him along. You can’t beg for him to keep going, to finish right where he is and fill you to the fucking brim so you can take a part of him home.
He goes wild for your shaky home videos, the smooth finish of your vibrator glistening with the remnants of his cum sliding down the silicon as you fuck yourself with his name on your lips in the cosy comfort of your bedroom.
A mantra of his name fills your mind.
Dave, Dave, Dave.
You want him to hear it, you want him to know that it’s only him that could do this, only him that could use you like this. You love it, crave it.
That familiar tingle runs along your spine in anticipation, your body aching for just that little bit more, your clit throbbing in need of desperate attention to get you just over that line right alongside him—
The groan that falls from his throat is utter filth, hoarse and throaty, and one of your favourite fucking sounds he makes. He slams his hips upwards one more time, forcing the head of his cock right up against your soft cervix as he starts to cum, and you’re left to do nothing but whine into the now damp material of his tie, barely aware of the tear that leaks from the corner of your eye.
He takes a long moment to recover, sweat slicked face hidden in your shoulder as his chest heaves against your back. The tie loosens from around your mouth and falls to rest at the base of your throat, leaving a mess of saliva coating your lips and chin which you try to wipe away as cleanly as possible with the back of your hand.
Too soon, he starts to pull away, guiding his softening cock from your tender, weeping cunt with a low hiss of ‘fuck’ before you hear the rustle of his slacks and the smooth pull of his zipper.
You take that as your silent cue, twisting and bending as well as you could on shaky legs to retrieve the damp panties still tangled around your ankles and attempt to drag them back up into place.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He asks gruffly, tugging the thin lace out from your fingers and letting them drop to your feet once more. “Who said I was finished with you?”
“But—”
There’s no time to argue.
He works quickly, dropping to his knees and gripping the underside of your ass enough to spread you open before pressing forward eagerly. The thick, firm feel of his tongue swipes through the mess he had made, forcing its way along your wet folds before pushing into your throbbing cunt.
You manage to smother the yelp of surprise with a quick slap of your hand over your mouth, half wishing he had left the gag in place if he wasn’t done with you. Maybe he’s trying to test you, or maybe he just doesn’t give a shit about being quiet anymore.
God, it’s risky.
It’s so fucking risky, it’s so fucking good—
He holds you tightly, winding an arm around the front of you to pull you harder against his face as he practically devours you from behind, eagerly coaxing more of his cum and your arousal into his mouth with feral curls and flicks of his tongue.
Your knees threaten to give out when he finally moves away from your entrance and finds your clit, smoothing over the swollen nerve with alternating quick, light flutters and firm, wide rolls. He falls into his pace easily, rekindling the heat in the pit of your stomach in a way only he knows how and you’re desperate to find something to anchor yourself with.
“Y-yeah,” you breathe brokenly, hands clutching the machine for life and eyes rolling with the fresh waves of pleasure as you can’t help but start to rock back against his face, focusing on the feel of his slick tongue sliding back and forward over your previously neglected clit, “maybe we could make this a… a r-regular work thing.”
He hums into you, breaking away with an obscene wet smack of his lips before nipping at the inside of your thigh playfully.
“You know where to find me, pretty girl. Bend over, give it to me.”
-
tags: @maievdenoir, @javier-pena, @lv7867, @dihra-vesa, @katronautt, @radiowallet, @januarystears, @missminkylove, @beskarprincessjenny, @mswarriorbabe80, @danidrabbles, @amneris21, @eri16, @absurdthirst, @hnt-escape, @acourtofsnakes, @ezrasbirdie, @mstgsmy66, @lovesbiggerthanpride, @coaaster, @sherala007, @greeneyedblondie44, @wyn-n-tonic, @you-got-me-starry-eyed, @shirks-all-responsibilities, @withasideofmeg, @harriedandharassed, @andruxx, @buckybarneshairpullingkink, @spideysimpossiblegirl, @prostitute-robot-from-the-future, @tanzthompson, @mad-girl-without-a-box, @hope-for-the-best-98, @fangirl-316, @christina-loves, @jediknight122, @hallway5, @xoxabs88xox, @nicolethered, @churchill356, @massivecolorspygiant, @just-here-for-the-moment, @gracie7209, @pinkie289, @lavenderluna10, @goodgriefitsawildworld
297 notes · View notes
sevcasejay1chicago · 1 year
Text
Hot- Jay Halstead, Matt Casey, and Kelly Severide
Summary: When you come down with a high fever, it’s up to your boys to help make it all better.
Warning: some language, EXTRA FLUFFY and EXTREMELY LENGTHY
Authors note: sorry it’s been a while guys. I’ve had two rounds of immunotherapy. Both times I had a reaction, which I’m still recovering from my latest infusion. I started writing this about a month ago when I came down with a high fever. Sorry it’s been a minute and I AM getting around to asks. Thank you all for the patience and the support. I love y’all!
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You had been feeling kind of achy and tired for well over 24 hours. You insisted that you were fine and even brushed Jay off when he said you felt a little warmer than usual. Now, you wished you had listened to your boyfriend and stayed home with Matt and Kelly. Even though they are on shift now, you would at least be in your own bed.
“M’ fine. Jus’ need to lay ‘ere a bit.” You mumbled, laying with your face pressed against the back of the leather couch in the kitchenette. You had stumbled in here after leaving Jay to interrogate the latest suspect. You really weren’t ready to give in, but you knew you were about to have no choice.
“Y/l/n. You and I both know that’s bullshit.” Voight said, leaning on the table. “You either go with Halstead or go by ambulance. You and I both know you have a high fever.” Voight pointed out, crossing his arms as he waited for a response. Similar to Erin, you became like a daughter to him, so he was not keen on letting you fry your brain just because you were stubborn.
You sighed, pressing your palms into your eye sockets to try and stop the burning. “With Jay.” You grumbled, returning your arms back around your body as you violently shivered.
Voight nodded, though you couldn’t see him. He waved Adam in as the officer walked by, not wanting to leave you. “Adam. Go get a washcloth from the locker room and wet it with cold water. After you bring that to me, go finish the interrogation for Halstead. Y/n needs to go home and she can’t drive like this.” Voight instructed, kneeling next to you to test your temp with the back of his hand. “And grab that blanket she keeps on the back of her chair. She’s shaking.”
“You got it sarge.” Adam said, running off to do as he was asked.
Once the wash cloth and blanket were dropped off, it took Jay less than 5 minutes to get to you. “I heard.” He said to Voight as soon as he stepped into the room. “I’ve got it from here. Thanks Sarge.” Jay said, crouching down next to you.
“No problem. Just take care of her and keep me updated.” Voight said, patting Jay on the shoulder before he walked out of the break room.
Jay sighed, touching your forehead to check again for himself. He winced in sympathy as you leaned your burning forehead further into his touch with a whimper. “Shhhhh. I know. I’m gonna take you home.” Jay whispered, rubbing his thumb along the area between your eyes, knowing you get a headache there when you have a fever.
“Jay?” You whispered, shifting on the couch as you blinked sleepily up at your boyfriend.
“Yeah baby. Close your eyes. I’ll get our stuff together and take you home.” Jay soothed, moving the cloth that fell off the back of your neck to your forehead.
When the cold shocked your system and sent a shiver down your spine, you whimpered and reached for your boyfriend. “Hold me.” You whimpered, tears welling in your eyes. You felt horrible and all you wanted were your boys and your bed.
Jay sighed and contemplated it. The look on your face had him caving in seconds. “Okay baby girl. Okay. Come on. Up you go.” Jay whispered, helping you sit up before picking you up with your arms wrapped around his neck and legs wrapped around his waist. He cringed at the heat your face brought to his exposed neck, you having immediately shoved your face into the crook of it.
Kim saw the exchange and quickly walked in from her desk, draping the fallen washcloth over the back of your neck and tucking the blanket back around your shoulders. “Hailey has your stuff on your desk. We doubted she would make it down the steps without you carrying her. Voight said her fever is pretty high.” Kim said, rubbing your back through the fabric of your blanket and frowning at the heat you were putting off.
“Yeah. Do me a favor. Call Matt and Kelly. They should be at the station. I need them to pick up some supplies and meet me at the house.” Jay said, gently swaying with you as you whimpered.
“Sure thing. Whatcha need?” Kim asked, already pulling up her notes app.
“Thermometer, Motrin, Tylenol, Gatorade, her favorite popsicles, and some soup. Have them call Will to double check me.” Jay said, walking toward his desk as he spoke. “Thanks for all the help guys.”
Everyone waved him off, saying no problem or don’t sweat it. Comments offering more help or to call if you needed anything, along with well wishes to you, were said as Jay carefully walked down the steps to get to his truck. Once he had you in and buckled, Jay quickly rounded the truck and turned it on, turning off the high ac to set it at a middle temperature to try and keep the fever from rising, but not get you too hot or too cold.
Jay had barely pulled out of the station before his phone started ringing. Jay answered the phone from his steering wheel, not bothering to check the caller id as he pulled out of the parking lot. “Halstead.” Jay answered.
“Jay. What’s going on? Matt’s on the phone with Burgess and…” Kelly trailed off when he heard you whimpering. “Oh sweetheart.” Kelly murmured before whispering something to Matt.
“She’s got a high fever. I’ve never seen her this bad Sev. Kim is giving Matt a list of things we will probably need. Double check that with one of the medics or call Will and get it all before you come home. I’m gonna get her home and changed into something cooler and start working on getting this fever down.” Jay said, clutching the hand you gave him to hold, silently begging for the contact.
Kelly blew out a breath as he listened to Jay and then Matt. “Okay. Alright. We will run it by Brett. I gotta go tell Boden we are leaving. We will be home in less than an hour. I promise.” Kelly said before rustling could be heard and then Matt’s voice rang through.
“Jay. Is it bad?” Matt asked, sounding calm to your fever altered mind, but Jay could hear the concern.
“It’s not good. I couldn’t tell you her exact temp, but it’s really up there Matt.” Jay answered, glancing at you and squeezing your hand. He tried to relax some when you sluggishly squeezed back.
“Alright. Kim gave me the list, but Trudy is gonna contact a guy who owes her and get the supplies ready for us to grab on the way home. We will be there in half an hour tops.” Matt said, trying to sooth Jay knowing that you had to be in rough shape for Trudy to make the offer that she did.
“Okay. We will see you then.” Jay said, turning into your neighborhood.
“We love you. See you soon.” Matt said, hanging up before Jay could reply.
Jay sighed and carefully pulled in front of your town home. When he looked over, you had your eyes closed, but tiny tear tracks were shining on your face. “Baby.” Jay sighed, wiping your burning cheeks. You opened your eyes and sobbed, catching Jay off guard. “Hang tight. Shhhh. Hang on.” Jay soothed, climbing out of the truck and quickly coming to your side when he realized you needed him and you needed him right now.
As soon as Jay opened your door and unbuckled you, you flung yourself into his arms. He knew you got emotional when you were sick and feverish, but you have never sobbed like this when you were sick with a fever. Unless you were throwing up, being as that is the one thing you fear the most, you are normally just a little misty eyed. This was definitely different.
“Alright. I gotcha. I have you. Shhhhh.” Jay soothed, rubbing your back as he walked to the front door. Luckily, he was able to balance you and unlock the door. If anyone asked how he did it, he wouldn’t be able to tell them anything other than it being sheer will power. He was not going to set you down until he got you to the bedroom.
Once inside, Jay locked up and threw his keys on the entryway table before climbing the stairs to your shared bedroom. Gently, he sat you down and kissed your forehead before beginning to help you undress. You whimpered as the chill of the house hit your skin. Normally, the temperature of your house was a little warm when you first got home, but today it felt like an ice box.
“Jay.” You whispered, shaking as chills went through your body. “C-c-cold.” You whimpered, feeling like you weren’t getting enough air as you shook to the core.
Jay sighed and kissed your forehead. “I know baby. I know. Hang on. I gotta get you into just a tshirt. Your fever is very high.” Jay explained, rubbing your forearms to help you generate some heat.
“B-but ‘m s-so c-c-cold.” You groaned. “It h-hurts.” You whimpered, looping your arms around Jay’s waist, burying your face into his stomach.
“I know it hurts sweet girl. I’m so sorry. Matt and Kelly are gonna come home with some medicine and we will fix you right up.” Jay soothed, running his hand over the top of your head and scratching your scalp just the way you liked it.
Jay held you for several minutes, not keen on letting you go before you were ready. He breathed deeply and loudly, trying to help you guide your own breathing. You were hurting and trembling to your core, which was making your anxiety go through the roof.
Eventually, Jay pulled you off of him long enough to make eye contact with you. “Baby. Look at me.” Jay soothed, rubbing the tears from your face with his thumbs. Once you made eye contact, he started again. “We gotta get you out of these clothes. Matt and Kelly should be here any minute. We just gotta get you into a tshirt and then I’ll snuggle you until they get here. Okay?” Jay asked, searching your eyes as he spoke. He hated what he saw. Fear. Pain. Exhaustion. Vulnerability. You are hardly ever this vulnerable. Vulnerability is something you guys have been working on and Jay hates that your mind isn’t giving you a choice right now.
“Kay.” You whispered, sniffling and closing your eyes to try to stop the tears.
Jay cracked a small smile at your answer. “Okay. Let’s start here since I’m already down here. Mkay?” Jay said, stating it like a question, but he was really just warning you.
You nodded to show your understanding before Jay began removing your clothes. He carefully removed your shoes and socks, rubbing your feet slightly after they were removed. Your feet were boiling and Jay was surprised you weren’t more uncomfortable. After giving you a moment, Jay started unbuckling your belt.
“Do you think you can stand or do you need to lay down so that I can get your pants off?” Jay asked, massaging your hips with his thumbs as he spoke.
“Lay down. ‘M tired.” You mumbled, eyes still closed to try and keep the tears at bay. You knew that if you looked Jay in the eyes, you would lose it.
“Okay sweetheart. Lay down for me.” Jay said, standing to help lower your body to the bed with a hand to the back of your neck. Once you were down, Jay pulled off your pants and tossed them into the basket in the corner. Then, he pulled your favorite shirt over your head after he quickly removed your shirt and bra, which happened to be one of Kelly’s CFD shirts. Just as Jay slipped the shirt over your head, you both heard the door opening and shutting as your boys came in, plastic grocery bags crinkling as they whispered to one another.
Matt came running up the stairs with a bag in hand as Jay helped you get settled against the headboard. “Hey baby girl.” Matt cooed, climbing in the bed immediately since he had kicked off his boots downstairs.
“M-matty.” You whispered, opening your arms and making the same grabby hands for Matt as you did for Jay.
Matt easily scooped you up, letting you get comfortable in his lap. Or as comfortable as you could get. “Jesus.” Matt breathed as soon as your face hit the inside of his neck.
Jay nodded from his spot next to the bed. “Yep. Got the thermometer in there?” Jay asked, reaching for the bag that Matt had brought into the bedroom.
“Yeah. It’s an ear one. Put a cover on it before you stick it in her ear.” Matt explained, rocking you back and forth in his arms. “Now, what’s going on with my Princess, hmm?” Matt cooed, lightly running a hand up and down your back.
You sniffed, trying to hide your tears. “Jus’ hurts Matty. Everything hurts.” You mumbled in his neck, not wanting to move your face away from the comfort that Matt could provide.
“Okay baby. That’s okay.” Matt soothed, rubbing a hand through your hair. “Now, once Jay has it set up, he’s just gonna stick the thermometer in your ear, okay?” Matt explained, leaning back to look at you.
You nodded and waited. Once Jay had everything ready, you made sure to stay still so that you could get it over with. You didn’t miss the sharp exhale either of your boyfriends made at the reading.
“103.4” Jay read aloud, even though he was sure Matt saw the number.
Matt nodded before securing your head into his chest, covering your ears. “Kel! It’s 103.4!” Matt yelled to your other boyfriend downstairs.
A quiet “oh fuck” could be heard before footsteps raced up the stairs. “Oh baby. Hey Angel.” Kelly cooed, coming around to get a look at you.
As soon as Kelly came into view, you started sobbing again and threw yourself out of Matt’s arms and into Kelly’s. Kelly was quick to catch you as he looked between Matt and Jay.
“Sh Sh Sh. Hey Angel. It’s alright.” Kelly soothed, holding you tightly in his arms. “God. Your shaking.” Kelly muttered, burying his face into your hair as you buried your own into his neck.
“We gotta get that fever down.” Jay said, rubbing the back of his neck.
“We brought Motrin and Tylenol like you asked. We should start with Motrin and get her into a lukewarm bath.” Matt said, standing and racing down the stairs.
“I’ll go get the bath started then.” Jay said, hating that you were this sick.
“Hey sweetheart. We are gonna make you all better, okay? Think you can take some medicine for me?” Kelly whispered, lightly rocking you to try and sooth your shaking form. He knew it had to hurt. You were strong and fiercely independent, so this had to be bad.
You nodded your head, not bothering to move from Kelly’s neck. You always found comfort in their arms, hiding your face in their neck. It was something you did when you were in need of comfort. With your face in their neck, you felt like you were safe.
Matt wasted no time in grabbing a Gatorade and your meds before running up the stairs. Kelly gently coaxed you from his neck long enough to get the meds in and for you to drink some before you were shoving your face right back into its hiding spot.
“Alright baby. Your bath is ready.” Jay said, coming up to you and Kelly as Matt placed the meds and leftover Gatorade onto the nightstand.
“Nah- uh.” You said, shaking your head. Your voice was muffled by Kelly neck, but they understood you perfectly.
Kelly tried his best to hide a chuckle at your childish behavior. Your little voice and the way you wrapped your arms tighter around his neck was just precious. Matt smirked and shook his head as he looked at Jay who looked torn. Jay didn’t want to move you if you were truly content, but your fever said otherwise. Given the reactions from your other two boyfriends, Jay know he was gonna have to be the bad cop (every pun intended).
“Yes ma’am. Come on now. We just gotta get that temp down some. It’ll make you feel better.” Jay tried to coax, taking the gentle approach first. He didn’t want to force you if he didn’t have to. When he got no response, Jay groaned and looked to his other lovers. “Come on guys. Give me a hand here.” Jay said, clearly aspirated.
Matt shook his head and held his hands up. He was NOT getting in the middle of this. He knew where this was going. He knew exactly how this was going to end.
Kelly sighed before he slowly pushed you away. “Let’s go baby. Faster we do this, faster we can cuddle.” Kelly tried to bribe you, but had to look to Jay when you immediately started sobbing.
“Okay. I know. Come on.” Jay said, taking you from Kelly. Though you knew what was coming, you immediately snuggled into Jay as his scent, always a comforting smell, invaded your senses. You whined and sobbed loudly as Jay effortlessly stripped you of your tshirt before placing you in the tub. He didn’t even bother with your panties, knowing you would probably attempt an escape as soon as your feet hit the floor. Sick or not, you were fast and Jay had learned it the hard way a few years ago.
Matt and Kelly came running in when they heard you get set into the water, immediately thrashing and trying to get out. Kelly quickly stripped to his boxers and climbed in with you, holding you to his chest.
“Shhhh. I know it seems cold. It’s just lukewarm. Your fever is really high princess. Shhhhh.” Kelly tried to soothe, wrapping both arms and legs around you.
“Relax Y/n. Breathe.” Matt cooed, scooting close to the bath tub. He took your face into his hands to try to catch your eyes. “Look. Look at me.” Once you made eye contact, Matt continued. “There we go. This is gonna help but you gotta stop fighting. Stop fighting baby. Let us help you.” Matt soothed, rubbing a hand over your head, brushing back your fly aways.
Jay stood behind Matt, waiting for you to nod before he came up and wet a new washcloth. Matt and Jay immediately started running wash clothes over your face and body, desperate to get your temperature down and get you more comfortable.
Kelly kept a strong hold on you, even as you began to force your body to settle into his. He could feel you shaking against him, but was relieved to feel the shaking slow as your fever began to respond to the medication and bath. As the shaking stopped, your head lulled back onto Kelly’s shoulder and your eyes slipped closed.
“Jay, go grab the thermometer. I think it’s starting to lower enough to take her out.” Kelly said, hand placed gently on your forehead. He then placed a kiss on your shoulder as you whimpered, pushing yourself further into his hold. “Shhhh. It’s almost over. We just gotta see where your temp is before we get out so we don’t have to start all over.” Kelly explained, pulling you as close as humanly possible.
Jay came jogging back in and quickly placed the thermometer in your ear. “101.8. I think it’s safe to get her out.” Jay said, turning to place the thermometer on the counter. He grabbed two new towels as Matt helped lift you out of the bath tub. Jay tossed one towel to Kelly as Kelly stood and dropped his boxers in the tub. With the other, Jay unfolded it and took you from Matt.
“I’m gonna go get clothes for both of you. Hang tight.” Matt said, jogging into the bedroom.
“How you doin baby?” Jay whispered, sitting down with you in his lap.
“M tired.” You whispered, snuggling into Jay. “Bed?” You asked, not even bothering to open your eyes.
Kelly chuckled as he dried off, listening to the conversation as Jay replied. “Yeah baby. We can go to bed. We gotta get you into dry clothes before we do that. Can’t have you getting any sicker.” Jay said, rubbing the towel over your body. Luckily, you already had your hair up in a bun from work earlier, so that saved them from having to try to blow dry your hair for you.
“Does anything else feel bad sweet girl?” Kelly asked, coming to kneel down next to you and Jay just as Matt came back in.
“Jus my head. Maybe my tummy a lil.” You whispered, not really feeling up to talking.
All of the boys nodded, though you couldn’t see them with your eyes closed. Matt handed Kelly his boxers and pjs before he kneeled down to help get you dressed. “Alright baby. I have some new underwear for you and Kelly’s shirt. Jay, I also have some pjs for you.” Matt said, carefully pulling your wet underwear off. Matt had quickly changed into his own pjs so that he could just grab you and climb into bed once you were ready.
Once all of you were dressed, Kelly helped you settle into Jay’s arms while Matt attempted to talk you into drinking more. You were being stubborn, not wanting to put anything else into your already quivering stomach. You were exhausted and there was no way they were going to get you to do anything else but sleep at this moment in time.
“Fine.” Matt sighed, placing the Gatorade back on the night stand.
“Matt.” Kelly warned in a low tone. You immediately curled into Jay, hiding your face and shaking even harder at Matt’s tone. He sounded disappointed and your fever idled brain crumpled under the same tone your father used to give you when you didn’t do what he wanted you to do. Kelly and Jay took immediate notice, but Matt seemed to miss the sign.
“Shit baby. No no no. Please don’t cry.” Matt said, sighing and mentally berating himself. “I’m sorry baby. It’s okay. I’m just worried is all. It’s okay.” Matt was basically pleading this time, hating that he was the reason you were sniffling in Jay’s grip.
“Why don’t we all lay down, hmm?” Jay cooed, rubbing your back and kissing your forehead. When you nodded, Kelly and Matt helped Jay scoot down in the bed with you. You laid directly on top of Jay who had forgone his sweats and only laid beneath you in his boxers. Kelly turned the ceiling fan on high while Matt turned the floor fan up as well. Once everyone was comfortable, and an alarm was set to check your temp and get more medicine in you, you all snuggled together and fell into a semi-peaceful sleep.
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